Chapter 28: Okay, I should probably ban her from alcohol for now… (i'll definitely say no even if she begs me!)

Upper Fire Month, 13th Day, 600 AGG

"Four priests defected," the Pontifex Maximus folded his hands over the table. "How many did we send to the Draconic Kingdom?"

"A little under a hundred," Raymond flipped through a stack of papers. "Keep in mind that this is the number after we withdrew the majority of them in preparation for escalating against the Elf Country."

"That's not too bad…" the head of the Executive branch muttered. "They weren't forced either, right? If they were, a lot more than just four priests would have 'defected.'"

"They were not," Raymond nodded in confirmation. "A few of the priests have already returned, courtesy of the Lady of Wings, and have corroborated this."

"What was the point then?" Dominic looked baffled. "If that dragon queen wanted priests so badly, she could've just asked! This decision is," the Cardinal of Wind struggled to wrap his head around the idea. "This is needlessly provocative!"

"It might not be her idea," Zinedine shook his head. "For all we know, she might simply be acting as a mouthpiece for the Lady of Wings. This provocation could be some sort of test for all we know."

"That's unlikely," Berenice shook her head. All of the leaders present immediately quieted and turned their heads toward her. She had been the only one to have met the angel in person, so it went without saying that they would attach a greater weight to her opinion. "She is not a person who is capable of displaying such guile."

"Are you calling her stupid?" Dominic half-smiled. "Maybe she was just hiding the devious side of herself when you met her."

"Perhaps," Berenice considered the possibility. "No, I think this was Queen Oriculus's idea."

"We didn't peg her as someone who would start a fight without a reason," Maximilian spoke up. "If we were to assume Berenice's statement is correct, then it should go without saying that Queen Oriculus wants something a bit more complicated than just an altercation."

"A reaction?" the Grand Marshal rumbled. "See how we react, how far she can push us. With that angel backing her, she might be trying to see if we have anything of comparable power."

"It's not like we can deploy Antilene anyways…"

Everyone present bitterly smiled. Deploying the Extra Seat would draw unwanted attention from the True Dragon Lords. Rising to the Dragon Queen's provocation wasn't worth that sort of risk.

"I really don't understand why Queen Oriculus didn't just ask," Dominic broke the silence with a sigh and propped his forehead against his hands. "Even if she wanted priests of her own, it ought to be a trivial task for the angel to teach some themselves. Besides, it's not like those priests are in possession of any dangerous knowledge besides Nigun. The damned fool won't be able to spill any secrets either."

"Still useful knowledge," the Grand Marshal frowned.

"We should look at this more optimistically. The priests weren't coerced, which means their goal wasn't to weaken us. In fact, isn't this a prime opportunity to strengthen our ties with the Draconic Kingdom and consequently, the Lady of Wings?" Zinedine smiled. "And since these priests have defected, our citizens won't riot if they find out they're working for the Dragon Queen now."

"She might want to start her own temple," Raymond added on. "Priests who have greater proficiency in summoning angels… that would align with their agenda on imprisoning Ex-Captain Nigun as well. With veteran priests and a previous member of the Sunlight Scripture in the Draconic Kingdom's grasp, it'll be much easier for them to establish one. They might also have a shortage of healers given that they're still in the beginnings of their recovery process."

"That seems sensible," the Pontifex Maximus's mouth was set in a serious expression as he followed the discourse. "Then, I propose that we leave them be. All in all, it's a good result for humanity. We improve our standing in the angel's eyes, and the Draconic Kingdom will become more capable in their role as a bulwark against the center of the continent."

"I still think Queen Oriculus could have just asked," Dominic shrugged. "But I suppose Zinedine is right in saying that this makes the whole affair easier for us to brush over when it comes to our citizens finding out. Perhaps this is her being considerate of us."

A small chuckle ran through the room. None present disliked the Dragon Queen, but the thought of her being considerate for their sakes was laughable. They were all aware of the unfavorable disposition the citizens of the Theocracy bore for her along with their own—some might say excessive—caution when it came to sending reinforcements to her kingdom.

"All for?" the Pontifex Maximus raised his hand. It was a unanimous decision; there was no one who kept their hand down. "In that case, we will continue as is when it comes to the Draconic Kingdom. If an opportunity arises to improve our relationship with them, then we shall take that chance as well."

"I have no objections."

"Me neither."

"Sounds reasonable to me."

"Excellent," the Pontifex Maximus's shoulders sagged in relief. Simultaneously maneuvering around the whims of a goddess and a foreign kingdom was more stressful than he had anticipated. "Moving on to the next point on our agenda. There's been some new developments in the war between Re-Estize and Baharuth…"

Draudillon's feet touched the ground, the Gatekeeper who had been carrying her cautiously depositing her from its arms.

Today, she was going to inspect the beastmen quarter of Almersia. In truth, she had been putting it off for some time.

'I need to check on the one in Caldevera too when I have the time…' Draudillon grimaced. After the verbal scuffle she had with Yuriko a few nights ago, she didn't feel comfortable dumping that responsibility on the angel in addition to everything else they were doing.

Had the apology really been enough? She pushed the thought out of mind. 'Later.'

Draudillon walked down the road, ignoring the fearful stares of the demihumans. This particular residential area was built outside the city walls in an attempt to prevent conflicts from breaking out between the citizens of the Draconic Kingdom and the beastmen—although now that they were living here, should she consider them citizens as well?

A headache began to pound behind her eyes. Perhaps she should have just denied Yuriko's proposal and deported all of the beastmen back to their homeland.

'You already agreed though,' Draudillon chastised herself. 'No turning back now.'

The dragon queen surveyed the infrastructure around her. It was—no, it was in better shape than she had anticipated. Whichever group worked on it had certainly not slacked on the job. She supposed being supervised by angels tended to keep one on their best behavior…

All of the beastmen cleared out of her vicinity, leaving only silent angels for company. Draudillon rubbed her right eye with a sigh. It seemed like asking them for their opinions on their new living conditions was a no-go, and she was sure that even if she did, they wouldn't dare bring forth any complaints.

They were now living in a city completely hostile to them, after all. Saying that they were living solely by the mercy of her and the angel wouldn't be an understatement.

'I'm surprised there haven't been more incidents,' even with peace and order being enforced by angels, minor aggressions could still easily slip through.

If she had to describe it, the interactions between the humans and demihumans were tense. Of course, there was that undercurrent of hate, fear, and anger, but shockingly few people had gone out of their way to openly antagonize their new neighbors.

"You," she caught a ratlike beastman—an Armat? They weren't common among the army compositions of previous beastmen assaults—attempting to slink out of his shared residence without being noticed. "Come here."

"Y-Yes!" the Armat quickly stumbled its way over to her and knelt down on the ground. "This lowly one is at y-your service!"

"Enough of that," Draudillon snapped in irritation. "Get up."

"Of course!" the ratman shot to his feet. "This one apologizes f-for his incompetence!"

"What's your opinion on the living quarters here?" Draudillon ignored his apology. She didn't expect a useful response, but she may as well try first before giving up. "Working conditions, general quality of life—things like that."

"Wh-What?" The Armat appeared baffled. Or at least Draudillon thought he was baffled. She had yet to become proficient in reading the body language and facial expressions of demihumans.

Draudillon raised an expectant eyebrow, awaiting an answer.

"U-Uh, yes, well," the Armat floundered. "We are all very—as in very, very—grateful for your allowances."

Draudillon impatiently tapped her foot.

"Everything is f-f-fine!" the ratman squeezed his eyes shut and flinched back.

"Is it really?"

"Th-There are some issues with space," he cast a nervous glance at the Gatekeepers beside her. "But it's n-nothing we can't handle!"

"Space. I see," Draudillon mentally added it to her to-do list. The builders probably forgot to account for the larger size of the average beastman. "How about food? Water? Sanitation? Your work environment?"

"Ah, um," the ratman was at a loss for words. "Food and water are alright… Our work is the same as always, I guess."

"To my knowledge, you all aren't receiving much in the way of… meat," the whole city wasn't; the livestock—normal livestock—had already been slaughtered by the invaders. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"If we could raise our own animals then—" he nervously swallowed. "N-N-Not humans! Just things like pigs, and cows, and stuff!"

"An expansion is going to be needed for that," Draudillon mumbled, crossing one arm over her chest and propping the other hand against her chin. "Where do you work?"

"In the fields," he pointed behind him, at the golden and bountiful farmlands just beyond the boundaries of the settlement. It seemed the Beastman Country had found it necessary to continue growing crops for the sake of feeding their more sentient livestock. "J-Just general labor."

"Take us."

"As you w-wish!"

The Armat hurriedly walked in front of her and led her past the temporary buildings, the boundaries of the small district, and into the farmsteads proper. Well, they were nationalized communal farms at the moment, but that was likely subject to change in the future.

"S-Stor'ghass!" The Armat waved at a Wolf Zoastia in the distance. "I brought a, uh, a v-visitor!"

"Krol," Stor'ghass warily kept an eye on her and the angels that accompanied her. "And… queen. Forgive me if I used the wrong title."

"You're his supervisor?" Draudillon scrutinized the beastman. Scars marred his body, and his countenance was that of a warrior's. "Did you fight in the war?"

"I have not," the hand sickle loosely hung from Stor'ghass's trembling hands. "These were from my time in the gladiator pits."

Krol stared at his boss with a mixture of pity and respect. Draudillon stared at him with a cold, unfeeling gaze.

"Interesting," she'd have to get someone to talk with him later. An ex-career fighter ought to have plenty of information regarding the Beastman Country's fighting styles—or at least some tidbits she could later compare with the Kshatra's of Clan Vadh. "How is the harvest progressing?"

"We'll be able to finish by the end of this month thanks to the angels that have been assigned to us," Stor'ghass gestured towards the fields. "There… please excuse your servant for saying this, but…"

"Out with it."

"We, ah," the wolfman gulped fearfully. "Our old masters did not see fit to hire enough people to manage all of this land. O-Of course we can greatly increase the yield for the next harvest season now that we have the manpower—"

"Is that so?" Draudillon mused. A potential food shortage then? If only the Draconic Kingdom was home to more druidic circles and groves… it appeared she may have to resort to hiring adventurers to assist with crop growth. Either that or somehow find a wandering circle of druids to grant patronage to. "Are there any complaints you have?"

"Our tools are decrepit, queen," Stor'ghass bent his knees to the ground before her, laying the hand sickle aside. "It is true that what we have is sufficient for the harvest, but unless more angels are sent, we will be unable to handle larger ones in the future. Please see fit to bestow your grace upon your servants."

"How bold," Draudillon was slightly impressed; a lesser person faced with such a situation would have answered that everything was okay and nothing else was needed. "Granted. Don't expect anything magical though." Because we can't afford it right now, she added in her head.

"You have our gratitude, queen," Stor'ghass genuflected. "We will not let your generosity go to waste!"

"See to it that you don't," Draudillon nodded. "I'll send a courtier later who'll run an inspection to check for anything else that will be needed. For now—what is it?" The two beastmen had been fidgeting for a while now.

"If it's permissible for your servant to ask of you, why are you so concerned about the conditions we're living in?" Stor'ghass raised his head from the ground.

"Because—" why was she doing this? These were the monsters responsible for the suffering of the kingdom for fucking decades. Each and every last one of them should be grateful that they weren't cut down on the spot, so just why was she piling on extra work for their sake?

They didn't deserve salvation. She didn't deserve salvation.

Draudillon crossed her arms and let out a self-derisive scoff. In the end, there wasn't much of a difference between her and the beastmen.

Both were saved by Yuriko, so who was Draudillon to complain? She, just like the beastmen, had nothing of worth to offer to the angel.

I've received a lot more than you realize.

'Just what have I given you?' Draudillon's fingers dug into her arms. 'Why do you stay? What have I to offer? Tell me. Please.'

"S-Sorry, that was a foolish question!" Stor'ghass slammed his forehead to the dirt, snapping her out of her despondency. "Your servant apologizes for his impudence!"

"The answer to your question is luck," Draudillon nodded at the Cherubim Gatekeeper and allowed it to pick her up. "Plain. Dumb. Luck." She tapped the angel. "Let's go."

She wasn't sure if she was referring to them or herself.

"Good work today," Draudillon dismissed the courtier. He had barely been holding himself back from dozing off during the later half of their discussion, a sure sign that it was probably time for him to stop working. "Send those writs along with the relevant reports to the foreman in charge of the beastmen quarter and send these ones to the provisional mayor. Make sure they understand they need to take it seriously."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the courier nearly collapsed as he stood up and bowed before stumbling out the door.

"Don't forget to check on the farms in the beastmen quarter!" the dragon queen shouted after the exhausted man. The half-dead courtier made a strangled sound of acknowledgement before closing the door behind him.

Draudillon buried her face in her hands and heaved a sigh. Sleep, she needed to sleep.

A horde of beastmen were chasing her through an endless field and she couldn't run away because the corpses were holding her down as they ripped her to pieces—

"Fuck," she pulled out a crystal container of hard liquor and a wineglass. "Damn it all."

The drink flowed like a river of fire, warming her up just as well as any magical enchantment. She was still far from done though.

Draudillon poured out another glass for herself.

And downed that in one gulp as well.

Pour.

Drink.

It all blended together in a familiar, almost mechanical rhythm. She hardly needed to even think about it, her body moving on instinct alone.

It was still a little odd—

'Has it always been so difficult to get drunk?' the dragon queen glared at the decanter. Her constitution had always been slightly greater than the average human, but quaffing an entire bottle should do more than just give her a buzz. In the past, it would've been enough to nearly push her into a stupor. 'Ugh, what a pain…'

She forwent her wineglass and chugged directly from the newly opened bottle of liquor.

'Ahhhh, there we go,' her breathing slowed down as a warm and familiar drowsiness settled over her mind like a blanket. 'Shit, I was doing… what? Something? I don't know.'

The dragon queen shrugged to herself and poured more of the burning alcohol down her throat. At that moment, a『Gate』opened in the middle of her room.

'Godsdammit,' she quickly wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. "What's—" her vision spun. "Woah."

It was all Draudillon could do to keep from collapsing over the table.

"Hi," Yuriko weakly waved at the drunken queen, her eyes darting around and taking in the messy room. "Long day, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," Draudillon swirled the liquor around in its container as she leaned back against the chair. "Sorta. How was—oops," she nearly toppled over backwards, the angel's timely assistance preventing her fall.

"Um, maybe you should take a breather, Draudillon," Yuriko set the chair back upright and looked at the dragon queen with worry in her eyes. The angel gently tried to pry the bottle away from her hand. "You're a mess—"

"Don't tell me what to do," Draudillon snapped at the angel, pushing down the nauseating feeling of guilt that accompanied Yuriko's hurt expression. Was she doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again? "I'll get—drunk. I'll get drunk when I want," she frowned as she tried to formulate the rest of her sentence. "When I want to."

"Okay, I-I'll be back when you're feeling better then," Yuriko shakily responded and stood up but stopped when Draudillon pulled on the back of her dress. "Huh?"

"Why do you even stay around me?" Draudillon bitterly asked, her muddled mind warring against common sense. "I—There's nothing good about me. I'm old, I'm useless, and all I do for you is make—make, um, a ton of trouble."

"Do I need a reason to want to be near you?" the angel replied with a hint of pink dusting the high points of her cheeks.

"Most people do," she scowled and inhaled another draught of alcohol. "I don't believe in uncon-, uncondi—that sort of thing."

"Yeah, I don't either," Yuriko allowed Draudillon to pull her closer. "If you really need a reason, it's… it's because you're Draudillon, I guess."

"That's," she hiccuped. From the alcohol or her crying, she didn't know. "That's so stupid. You're—ugh—you're stupid."

"I know," Yuriko sadly smiled and guided the maudlin queen to her bed. "But I don't think I'm stupid for that."

The angel carefully helped Draudillon lay down on her side before straightening back up and murmuring to herself. "I think I'll have to let you sleep this one off. Sorry," she apologized in a guilty tone. "I'll cure your hangover at least."

"Stay here," Draudillon slurred, not having caught any of Yuriko's murmurs. "Lay next to—uhhh, me."

"Okay," Yuriko smoothed out the cover and blankets before laying next to the dragon queen. "Is this fine?"

"Nothing's fine," Draudillon wept. "Ev-Everything always goes wrong."

"That's not true," Yuriko wrapped her in a hug. "Things are definitely better now."

"No," Draudillon stubbornly disagreed. "Nothing is better with—with me around."

"You're wrong," Yuriko softly stroked the top of her head. "It's thanks to you that so many people can smile—"

Draudillon grabbed Yuriko's hand and flipped over, the angel squeaking in surprise as the dragon queen pinned them underneath her. "Wha—!"

"Would I be a bad person if—" Draudillon huskily asked, liquor-addled consciousness trying and failing to find the right words. "If I did what I wanted?"

"W-W-What's that supposed to mean?!" Yuriko's face flared bright red. "No, no, no, I need to calm down!" She bit her lips and exhaled, looking noticeably less flustered than before, albeit with a hint of disappointment. "She's just drunk. Right, just… drunk."

Draudillon lowered her head until their lips were nearly touching, her black locks cascading around the angel's face while watery teal-green eyes met wide golden ones. "You don't want to?"

"I-It's not that," Yuriko swallowed thickly, unable to turn her eyes away. "I just don't want it to be when you're like this. So please…"

"I'm tired," Draudillon muttered as her tears stained Yuriko's face. "So very, very tired."

"Then rest," Yuriko delicately pulled the dragon queen's head into the crook of her neck. "I'll always be here. I promise. No matter what."

"If, If you're lying," Draudillon stumbled over her words. "I'll get—I'll be sad. Reeeally sad."

"I'm not," Yuriko reassuringly patted her back. "I promised, didn't I?"

Draudillon mumbled something unintelligible before finally blacking out. A few seconds later, the sound of snoring began rising from Yuriko's shoulder.

"You're so mean," the angel tearfully whispered. "Saying that sort of thing while you're drunk… it's not fair."

Yuriko looked at their intertwined hands, an ache of longing racing through her core.

"I don't know if you really feel this way," Yuriko pried her hand apart from the dragon queen's before wrapping both her arms around the drunken wreck of a woman. "But if you do, then please—"

The angel's voice shook. "Please don't feel like you're alone."

Draudillon's chest rose and fell, the slumbering queen completely unaware of the angel's plea.

"Because you aren't," Yuriko angrily wiped at her eyes. "You have Martin, you have me, you have all the people who've been supporting you since the start. They've always been there for you, and now I'm here too."

A heavy silence, save for Draudillon's soft snores, fell over the room—though it was only felt by one person.

Yuriko stared up at the ceiling, her heart torn between what she thought was right and what she knew she wanted.

"I wonder if she'll remember this…"