"Who is this 'Inta'? And what are his intentions toward my Entoma?" Ainz muttered under his breath as he sat in the slime bath. He'd asked the question of himself before, but came to no conclusions. He ran through the list of names he knew, and it gnawed at the back of his skull. 'A minor functionary who became a teacher? A student, is she carrying on an affair with one of her students…?' That was a dreadful thought in and of itself, 'Or… no, it couldn't be a situation of the sort that Zesshi spoke of in the elf Kingdom with Berenice.'
"My Lord, if you are so worried, then why not simply 'ask' Lady Entoma?" The demoness asked as she bent forward and proffered out a silver platter on which a steaming cloth sat.
Ainz nodded to grant his approval, and she draped the steaming cloth over his face while the slime worked its way over his bones. "I could, Vanysa, I could. But she is still young and would be uncomfortable telling me things of that sort. If I command it, she will obey, but these are the children of my friends, I'm as much their father now as I am the Lord they serve."
"I understand, My Lord." The demoness chuckled, "That's why you let me come to the bath to bring you things, and not them, but they're awfully jealous." She giggled a little, and Ainz let that pass.
The demoness had once been a human girl who took her own life out of loyalty to him, her reward, resurrection as a demon, suited her temperament, but her personality, whimsical, a little playful, and maybe a little more forward than was proper, never left her even when her body changed.
"But My Lord, if you're that worried, why not just investigate him?" Vanysa asked.
"Wouldn't that be too intrusive?" Ainz asked in return, tilting his head back and sinking lower into the slime that ran over his bones.
Vanysa straightened up, "If my Lord were merely a father, such behavior would be… forgive me, 'creepy'. It would be intrusive. It would be controlling. All bad things. But My Lord is a King. It isn't just your right, it's your duty."
"My duty, is it?" Ainz asked the rhetorical question with a tentative air, and though he couldn't see through the cloth that covered and warmed his face, he could feel her fervent nod.
"Yes. My Lord, what if he is a former Agante member, or presently still one trying to get close to her to hurt you? What if he is a foreign spy? What if he is a rakish figure who preys on the hearts of young and inexperienced women…" The more Vanysa said, the more sense she made and the more worried Ainz became.
"What if he is a seducer looking for a notch on his belt? What if he is some vengeful person like those who attacked the Pope when her son was born, just wanting to hurt her to hurt you? What if he is-" Ainz cleared his nonexistent throat and she stopped speaking.
He raised a hand out of the bath and held his palm out to her, "Your point is made, Vanysa. Your point is made. I can't rule anything out until it is ruled out. Have him looked into, we'll find out what kind of man this 'Inta' is, and what his intentions are toward my Entoma."
"Course, m'lord. I can handle it right easy-like an ah swear nobody'll know noth'n bout noth'n." She said and bowed repeatedly at the waist.
Ainz only nodded while she slipped back into her country dialect as she typically did when her sanity slipped. 'I wonder if she will ever be completely whole again?' He contemplated the question and had no answer. "Bring me a towel, and then get started." He answered, and began to rise to his feet.
"At once, m'lord!" She said and rushed to where the towels hung.
Inta swirled the cup beneath his nostrils and inhaled the rich bouquet of flavors. The red liquid moved slower than wine or water, blood after all, was far thicker. He picked up the bottle that sat on his table, 'Yorajim number nine' the label read. Beneath the name of the vintage was a picture of the man named Yorajim. He had a bright smile, russet hair and a sparkle in his eyes. 'Probably some artistic license was taken there but…' Inta shrugged. It certainly sold. In the years since the war when vampires were allowed to live openly as long as they didn't live as predators, a job class opened up of blood donors, people of various races who made a living selling their blood.
Initially it was an avenue of easy money for the poor, but since then? Inta took a sip and the flavor exploded in his mouth. Since then a few high end 'professionals' arose who ate and drank specialized diets in order to flavor themselves in just the right way. Just a vial of their blood sold for more than a full day's labor at a middle class position.
The names and faces of these people became well known to the point where they were minor celebrities, and invited to 'tastings' where various blood drinkers would gather among the upper echelons of society's intelligentsia. Yorajim was one of the newest of these sensational bloody celebrities, a chef by training, his knowledge of food preparation led to him discovering a combination that made his own blood rich and flavorful… and very expensive.
'Thank. You. God.' Inta thought of ruler of the Sorcerous Empire, whose policies made teachers some of the best paid public servants, to the point where private institutions of education were rare as few could afford to attract talented educators. As a result?
'I can afford to drink this wonderful stuff.' He thought and took another sip before he leaned back in his chair at the restaurant. The only thing which could have improved the experience was the company of his favorite person. 'Ah, my Entoma.' He pondered her, 'I wonder if my interest in her is perverted, given the differences between us?' It was a playful mockery of himself that he wasn't about to share with her, either because it might offend her, or, '...because she might agree.' That of course, only made it funnier in his own mind.
The smell of flesh everywhere in the establishment, and true to rumor, the place actually had a license to serve the deceased of intelligent beings. However, they had to die naturally and were afforded great luxury when they sold the rights to their corpses. The policy was written on the menu, which he glanced down at as he had nothing else to do. 'All those served here at 'To Serve Man' sold their flesh willingly and were afforded great luxury in their ends, provided all comforts and their bodies treated with the greatest dignity after their passing. Inspection rating A+'
'I'm sure my Entoma would enjoy this place.' He thought and glanced around at the other patrons. Four were vampires who came for the blood list. Eight were beastmen from, he assumed, King Rargnan's domain, and another dozen or so were demihumans from the Abelion Hills. 'You'd think the humans and other races would be less at ease with this place but… I suppose with necromancy being so popularly used, it makes sense. If you're not bothered by the use of somebody's skeleton for labor, why be bothered about their flesh being put to use as food?' 'Nothing Wasted' seemed to be the unofficial motto of the Sorcerous Empire, and a place like this proved it.
He was just about to veer off into another stream of thoughts when he heard the chair opposite himself shift, and saw Entoma taking a seat. "This place smells great!" She exclaimed with an almost childish delight. She raised her hand and a dark elf server approached, "Do you have ribs?"
"Of course, madam!" The dark elf waiter was clad in black pants and a laced up shirt with a ruffle around the collar, his back was stiff and his hand folded over his waist in a formal manner as he gave a half bow to acknowledge her. "Would the madam care for an appetizer first, and perhaps something to drink?"
"Bring me your best of both, but don't delay too long." Entoma quipped and focused her attention on Inta.
"Somebody is enthusiastic today, I didn't realize my company was so desirable as all that?" He teased, and though she couldn't blush, he sensed that he'd caught her by surprise.
"It's not that, we have an assignment to carry out, and you get to go with me. We'll have a meal, go back, arrange for our teacher's aides to cover for us for a few weeks, and then pack and…" Entoma went on and on, but when she was done, even if it took her far more words than it should have to explain, he did understand.
"A diplomatic assignment for His Majesty? I'd be honored to accompany you." Inta said just as a black-blood filled glass was delivered to the table and set in front of Entoma. Along with it was a plate of finger rolls, sauce braised fingers with bones intact, wrapped in a buttered bread and baked. A snack considered to be 'dainty' for heteromorphic females.
She picked one up and took a bite, "This is a man of excellent taste." Entoma said as she bit off at the first knuckle.
"Do you mean me, or the food?" Inta asked as the waiter withdrew.
"Yes." Entoma said, and took another bite.