Kinda hard to ask about that, right?
Tafman went quiet. He wasn’t so bold as to barge into the personal affairs of someone he had just met. Maybe he would try it with some grisly old guy, but not with a woman.
“It’s gotten pretty hot these days, hasn’t it?” So he ended up falling back on a rather cliché conversation starter.
“Oh... Y-Yeah, it has.” But Claire gave a rather suspicious response, her smile not moving in the slightest. She then slipped off her heavy cloak and made a big show of fanning herself.
“Well...it’s pretty cool tonight though...”
“Oh, right! With my limited wardrobe, it’s kind of tough managing temperature!” She then put her cloak right back on.
I stuck myself with quite the weirdo, huh? Tafman thought.
“If needing clothes is an issue, I know just the place that can help you out,” he suggested.
She had to have a good chunk of change to her name if she was eating at this establishment. But then, why didn’t he have any idea who she was?
“What kind of work do you do?” Tafman asked, dropping his voice a little. She apparently took his change in tone very seriously as her expression immediately went blank.
“I...work in the castle.”
“What? The castle?” Tafman’s eyes went wide. As a member of the first group inducted into the autonomous zone, Tafman had never heard of a human working in the castle. He was pretty sure the administration was entirely made up of night elves, devils, and hobgoblins.
“I’m, uh, not one of the normal citizens of the autonomous zone.” Claire shrugged with an awkward smile. “I... My father was a low-level government official, so I have pretty good handwriting. Some weird demon took a liking to it, so he kept me around as his personal prisoner. Think of me as a skilled slave. He has me doing all kinds of work, like rewriting reports he gets from the night elves, or writing out the letters he dictates. Stuff like that.”
“Ah... I’ve never heard of jobs like that.”
“Anyway, one thing led to another, and I found myself here in the autonomous zone. I’m less of a new captive here, and more a longtime slave of the demonic kingdom.”
“I see. No wonder we’ve never met.”
She had come to the autonomous zone by different means than the other humans, so he could understand why he had never come across her. And it made sense she could come and go from the castle if she was already used to working for the demonic kingdom. If she was responsible for handling documents in the castle, she probably got paid at least as much as Tafman, if not considerably more.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m...the City Guard’s vice captain,” Tafman replied awkwardly. He still wasn’t quite comfortable with a fancy title like “vice captain.”
“Oh, vice captain? Wow! I thought your name sounded familiar. Here I was, talking to Vice Captain Tafman all along.”
“Yeah, that’s me.” As far as he knew, there was no other “Tafman” in Evaloti.
“Here you are!” A waitress stepped up, delivering Tafman’s food and drink.
“Oh, it’s here!” Tafman’s face lit up instantly as he was presented with his meal: a wooden mug filled to the brim with Warlito Bimi, and a plate of summer vegetables fried with cheese, then roasted in the oven until crunchy. Meat was a rare luxury here in Evaloti, so there was only a little bacon added, but it was still a fantastic dish.
Hmm. I might have made a mistake...
While basking in the flavorful aroma, he realized his blunder. He had ordered his usual dish like always, with no thought for how it would pair with the mellow taste of Warlito Bimi.
No! I won’t know until I try it! First things first...
He lifted the mug to his mouth with both hands.
“It’s... It’s perfect!” Tafman crowed, tears welling up in his eyes. The alcohol rushed through him, invigorating his exhausted body. He could feel it infusing with each of his organs. It was many times stronger than any ale, yet the mellow flavor made it easy to keep drinking.
Oh no! This stuff is dangerous!
He had tasted Arien Bimi once before. Back then, he had partaken in the drink alongside his comrades just before they had abandoned their fortress and retreated. It had belonged to his commander who had fallen in combat. Compared to that magnificent drink, Warlito Bimi was clearly made with the working man in mind. When you wanted to chat with friends in the pub and were looking for a drink to knock back, this was exactly what you needed. But it was so expensive! If he didn’t keep his wits about him, his month’s wages would go up in smoke! The urge to chug the stuff came over him, but he just couldn’t. He glared down at the cup in his hands, so much of its contents already gone.
The soft sound of Claire trying and failing to stifle a laugh came from beside him.
“Oh...sorry.” He had completely forgotten about her, lost in his own world. That was plainly rude.
“Don’t worry about it. You love your alcohol, huh?” He couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed at the way this girl the same age as his niece laughed at him. “If you’re the vice captain, shouldn’t you be able to drink as much of this stuff as you want?” she asked.
“No... I get paid the same as any other guard...”
“Huh? Why?”
“I’m not all that important to be lording my position over others.” Tafman shrugged, Claire staring at him in silence.
“Is it really that good?”
“It is. It really is.”
“Huh. Maybe I’ll give it a try.” Calling over a waitress, Claire ordered her own mug of Warlito Bimi. The casual way in which she ordered only further reinforced his assumption that she was loaded with money. In short order, a wooden mug was brought out for her, sloshing with transparent liquid. Claire regarded the beverage coldly.
“To my first meeting with the illustrious vice captain,” she said with a mischievous grin, holding out her mug.
“To cool summer nights,” Tafman jabbed back, clinking his mug against hers.
“Cheers.”
And they drank.
“Hmm...” Claire seemed to chew the beverage, her face expressionless. “Nah, I don’t get it. I really can’t tell the difference between good and bad drinks.”
“Wait, really...?” Tafman turned a look of unveiled shock on her as she entirely failed to be moved by the drink.
“Here, you can have it.”
His shock only grew as she casually placed the mug in front of him after only drinking a single mouthful.
“What?! Are you sure?!”
“I’m sure the drink would be happier to be enjoyed by someone who can actually taste it.” There was a hint of sarcasm, of self-derision, in her voice, but Tafman was far beyond catching it.
“Th-Thank you so much!” Though he was a man who knew how to rein himself in during conversation, he had no shame when it came to alcohol. He showed his thanks to Claire by bowing without hesitation, displaying no concern for public appearances.