My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Going out with multiple girls. At first glance, it might just be the dream life that many wished for but can never attain. And it's only due to quite the bizarre series of circumstances and development that I appear to have inadvertently placed myself at the highest pedestal that heaven on earth has to offer.

So… good life? A hundred percent I'd be lynched and strung up a tree if I even dare say a word otherwise. But, see, no matter how good something may appear, there will always be caveats to deal with—the fine print you have to squint to even realize is there. No yin without the yang and all that wisdom-y metaphors.

And living the good life like this means I'd have to up against the biggest caveat of them all: Society.

More specifically though, Mr. Collins. Though blissfully in ignorance for the time being, you gotta seriously wonder just how exactly he'd react knowing that his dearly beloved daughter wasn't the sole apple of my eye?

And judging by his tone of my voice, the muted look in his gaze, I get the feeling he might be starting to wonder that same strange notion himself.

"Why so quiet?" He asked, creases appearing on his forehead as he furrowed his brows. "I'm just asking if this Ash person is a friend of yours… or maybe… something else entirely."

I'd been clawed, I'd been stabbed, had my bones broken, limbs twisted, ding-dong ditched death too many times to count now, but I probably rather face all that former than deal with the latter of paternal scorn.

"Ash is…" I began at first, working up my nerve, only to backtrack fast at that same exact instance, and I was back to staring directly at my barely touched glass of wine.

Sure, I could dodge it now, silver tongue my way out of telling the actual truth, but then what happens after? later? It's not like the problem actually goes away. It'd still be here, lingering… looming over my head like a tragic secret in my past haunting my every waking moment in the present.

"Ash is…" I started again, too aware of the consequences speaking the truth would entail, yet at the same time, having no desire or intention to lie. "Ash is someone very special to me."

As expected, Mr. Collins grew only more riveted, the empty expression on his face subtly rippling to something a little more than empty.

"Define 'special'."

"Let's just say Ash means just as much to me as Amanda does."

"That doesn't sound very platonic."

"And what if it isn't?"

"Then never see or speak to my daughter ever again, you stay away from her, that's all I'll tell you," He bluntly responded, his voice quickly sounding a momentary iciness that sent my blood running cold. "If you're not gonna take Amanda seriously, if you're just toying with her heart here, young man, I—"

"I'm not," I said at once. "Believe me, I'm not. Your daughter means everything to me."

"But according to you, it seems that this Ash person means just as much to you too," He said, rounding at me with eyes like a hawk. "That's a pretty small world there, if you ask me."

Again, I could backpedal here… lie and say I didn't mean what I meant… but the little voice inside me was stubborn, and so between speaking the truth and the lie, I settled upon the middle ground of silence and simply focused on the steady sway of my wine once more.

"Are there any others?"

My eyes snapped back up. "What?"

"Any others," He repeated, sounding almost, just almost derisive. "You know… anybody else that is as special to you as this Ash person is?"

The tremendous pressure, the crushing impulse to tell him that there was no one else was great enough to sink me to the floor. It was the easiest, simplest way to get him off my back on this, I should really say it.

So why the hell was I still keeping silent?

Mr. Collins shifted in his expression again… and he did not look too impressed with me.

"There are, aren't there?"

Slowly, with the smallest amount of movement possible, I wriggled out of my seat, rising to my feet.

"Going somewhere?" He asked.

"Bathroom," I muttered, turning away. "Be back in a second."

Which wasn't a lie, really. I had drank when I first got here, threw down even more during supper, then there was that tea time with Mrs. Collins for a while, and now I've come full circle gulping down glasses of wine once more. Frankly, I'm surprised I've even manage to last this long.

I could feel his eyes on me up until line of sight was broken as I shuffled deeper into the hallway leading to the bathroom, but I didn't dare let out a breath until I had securely locked the door behind me, and I heard my own sigh bouncing back towards me across the white porcelain walls.

Once I did my business, washed my hands, peering in the mirror the strained look, the conflict residing in the face of a worn and weary man. I'm dreading opening the door, I'm dreading sitting back down, and most especially, I'm dreading the current discussion.

But open the door I did, walked the narrow hall leading back to the living space, and was ready to brave whatever it was next that fate was giddy to throw at me.

Then, sounding from the opposite end of the hall, a door clicked open.

"Psst! Over here for a moment."

Half of Amanda's face protruded out from the gap in the doorway, silently but urgently me signaling me to come closer with a beckoning arm. I hesitated for a split second, before I promptly turned my back toward the glaring light of the living room and complied. No doubt she had some things to say to me, and oh boy, do I have things to say to her too, alright.

"I'm deep in shit right now," I said to her, shouting as loud as I could in a whisper, "Your father knows about Ash, you told him about Ash, why did you tell him about—?"

In a split second, in a disorienting whirl of floors, doors, ceilings and walls, I was pulled into her bedroom, and I realized then I was being abducted and kept hostage the moment the click of a doorknob resounded in the air.

"Finally! Some time alone," I heard her exhale in relief, hearing the faint trace of a smile in her voice. "Was seriously starting to think they'll keep you their prisoner forever or something."

"Prisoner. Funny you should say that," I scoffed, feeling my exasperation take over as I whirled around to look at her. "Because at the rate this night is going, your Dad might just… actually… do…"

Like before, I felt my voice trail away into nothingness… only this time, it was a silence totally out of my control. The glistening sheen of damp skin, her arms were… her face was… I forgot she just got out of the shower…

Amanda was… wet. With the flimsy, precarious knot of a thin towel the only thing keeping her from the nude, but even then, with how tightly it clung to the curves of her body, it felt as if it was doing a better job exposing her more than it was actually covering her up.

My eyes drifted off on its own volition, gazing, ogling, the clumps of blonde hair draping over her bare shoulders… I could see the exposed surface of her neck, the slightest glimpse of her protruding chest… briefly, I managed to wrench back control, and up above, I met the look in her eyes again, and as well as the shrewd, satisfied smile of a cunning plan successfully executed.

"Do what?" Amanda asked, stepping closer, leaning over far more than really necessary… and right then I never realized just how… springy she could actually be. "There something he said to you?"

The widening smirk brimming her mischievous expression clearly did not mind at all where all my focus and attention had strayed off too at that moment, and for a while there, I'd completely forgotten what exactly we were even talking about. It took a few blinks, another spur of willpower, before I finally came to my senses again.

"Ash," I said. "You told your father about Ash."

"Not intentionally," She said a little apologetically. "It was a spur of the moment. I really wanted him to eat his words, so I showed him some vids, and—he brought it up to you?"

"Yes, he brought it up to me. Caught me completely blindsided," I exclaimed. "And he's curious, oh he's suspicious… I'm practically dying inside with every question."

"And just why are you dying?" She asked, totally indifferent to my sense of alarm. "It's an easy question, an easy answer.  Ash is a friend. I told him just as much. Didn't you?"

I paused, and ran a couple of fingers across the back of my head. "Well…"

"No, you didn't…" She answered me, flashing narrowed lips and a look on her face knowing me all too well. "What? Figured if you lied to him about your relationship, you'd be lying to yourself about it as well?"

"I lie to him now, I'll have to lie later as well," I explained myself before the mockery of her gaze. "I'll be building that lie until it becomes so big, I won't be able to hide it anymore. And then what?"

"But you know you can't exactly tell him the truth either," Amanda said. "He'll kill you!"

"I know that!" Arms up, eyes wide, I bemoaned to the sky above. "So, yeah… again—deep shit here. Got any suggestions, maybe?"

Here I was grasping at straws, at any moment about to walk the walk back to the hangman's noose just outside. Meanwhile, after a bit of pondering, Amanda couldn't have looked more amused, more at peace.

"Suggestions, hm? I think I might have an idea. A simple one too…"

Then without elaborating any further, she shuffled straight past me toward her bed, where she promptly sat down at one end, while also leaving just enough space for one other beside her.

"Stay here with me for a while," She cooed tenderly, curling her legs, resting her hands so enticingly. "Your best bet."

"My best bet?"

"You're best and only."

"Amanda, your dad's expecting me back," I told her. "You're telling me to just leave him hanging?"

"Grumpy tummy," She smiled, cocking her head, and letting her hair cascade in a waterfall of gold. "I'm sure he'll understand. You've eaten quite a lot for dinner, after all."

"Amanda…"

"You don't want to?" She asked, using a voice so accusatory, so disheartened, and so perfectly calculated. "What if I begged?"

"Not necessary."

"So you'll stay?" Once again, the hope in her voice, the eagerness in her expression, not a single action of hers unplanned. "I want you to stay…"

I swear, this entire family tree is nothing but schemes and ploys… and I'm just swept along lost and confused in this 4-D game of chess they were playing with each other.

"Besides, if it's a choice between being with me or my father…" Amanda added on, her smile so enticing, and the knot of her towel loosening ever so slightly with her twist and turn she made her body. "Is it even a choice at all?"

Just as persuasive as her mother. Just as compelling as her father.

Frankly, against her, what chance did I stand at all?