Chapter 50
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s exactly as I said. Sir Ian of Melason is refusing to leave the tearoom despite being told to. Not only that, but he’s also resorted to violence, which is making things quite troublesome.”
Cesare spoke in one breath.
“What?”
“Violence?”
Carlos and I exclaimed at the same time.
“Fortunately, he hasn’t injured anyone—just smashed the tearoom’s furniture—but… things could escalate. You should get there quickly.”
Without a second thought, I sprinted toward the tearoom.
Carlos and Cesare followed close behind.
The two-story tearoom, located in front of the 3rd Knight Order and serving tea and coffee to knights, looked quiet and peaceful from the outside.
But peering through the glass windows told a very different story.
“Is that Ian Melason?”
“Yes, it is.”
I pointed to the handsome man with dark wheat-colored hair and green eyes—just as he’d been described in the original story—and Cesare nodded.
“…He’s made quite a mess of things.”
Carlos muttered in a voice dripping with contempt.
And indeed, Ian Melason’s rampage inside was severe.
“How many teacups has he even smashed?”
I murmured in disbelief. Beside him was a towering pile of broken teacups, and shards from teapots were scattered across the floor.
Behind the counter, the tearoom owner stood frozen, pale as a ghost.
Our eyes met.
‘…Those eyes aren’t sane.’
Whatever the cause, Ian Melason’s gaze was wild, carrying a dangerous, antisocial edge.
‘Strange…’
Though he was a villain, he had always been mild until cornered. What on earth happened?
No time to dwell on it.
“Should we assume he’s taken a hostage?”
Cesare asked. I hesitated briefly, then nodded.
“Treat this as a Level-2 crisis. Arm the knights and call for a negotiation expert.”
I ordered Cesare, while Carlos and I prepared to confront him.
“…Elia Elvington?”
He spotted me and muttered my name.
Well, what was the protocol for this again?
Flipping through Elia’s memories, I vaguely recalled the Knights’ manual on hostage situations—though nothing on when the hostage-taker’s target was me.
“Yes, I’m Elia Elvington.”
Better to draw his attention away from the civilian owner.
His eyes widened.
“Elia Elvington…”
He murmured my name again, tilting his head, frowning deeply as if confused.
“I… why… urgh.”
Suddenly, he clutched his head.
“My head… it hurts…!”
The hostility in his eyes intensified, and an unsettling aura seemed to radiate from him.
I knew instinctively—there was no time to wait for backup.
“Sir Ivach, we can’t wait. I’ll go in and subdue him. Since his fixation is on me, I’m the best bait. Can you cover me?”
Carlos thought for a second, then nodded.
“I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.”
That reassurance felt rock-solid.
Since Melason was hunched over in pain, the timing was perfect.
“Now!”
I kicked the door open, rushed in, and in one swift motion, twisted his arm and kicked the back of his knee.
“Urgh!”
He collapsed to the floor, shards digging into his knees. Painful, but irrelevant now.
“Carlos, find something to tie him—”
Before I could finish—
“Aaagh!”
With inhuman strength, Melason flung my arm aside.
The next instant, his hand was around my throat, slamming me into the wall.
“Khh—!”
The air left my lungs, and my vision spun. Through the haze, I saw Carlos’s face twist in alarm—fear flashing in his eyes.
“Captain!”
“No!”
I stopped him as he drew his sword.
“Protect Graf first!”
Graf—the tearoom owner—was still inside.
Carlos froze, then moved to escort Graf outside. He handed him off to the arriving 3rd Order knights—then his restraint broke.
In a blur, Carlos charged back in and struck Melason’s head hard enough to knock him out, freeing me.
“Are you all right?!”
Cesare and the others dealt with Melason as Carlos rushed to my side.
“Kh, khh…”
I couldn’t answer—my throat burned, my eyes streamed uncontrollably.
“Damn it, Captain…”
Carlos gently supported me.
“Walk slowly. The medics are waiting.”
Good—because I was seconds away from blacking out.
When I nearly stumbled onto the shard-strewn floor, Carlos caught me.
“This might be something you’ll never forgive me for, but… allow it just this once.”
The world tilted strangely.
“W-wait—!”
Too late—I realized he had picked me up. A princess carry.
“Stop struggling. Do you want to fall?”
He spoke coldly, and I decided I didn’t want to fall into a bed of porcelain daggers, so I stilled and rested my head against him.
Surprisingly… it felt comfortable.
And safe.
No one’s ever held me like this before.
Even before I became Elia, my old world had never been dangerous enough to warrant such protection.
Clink, clink.
Each step he took made the shards crunch under his boots, the sound oddly like a lullaby.
I closed my eyes, still coughing lightly.
That made his warmth, and the feel of his hands around me, even clearer.
…What was this feeling?
Sweet and heavy, like candy melted into air…
“…Captain?”
I heard Carlos’s voice—but I didn’t answer.
Not because my throat hurt.
Because, for the first time since arriving in this world, I was sinking into a deep, comforting sleep.
