Chapter 29: Today is a day off! No buts! N-No… nevermind.

Upper Fire Month, 14th Day, 600 AGG

Draudillon was standing by herself in the empty throne room.

'A dream,' she tried to calm herself. 'It's just a dream. I fell asleep in Almersia, and it's unlikely I was abducted or put under an illusion.'

It wasn't much of a comforting thought; her dreams were almost never pleasant.

"Oi. Stop standing there like a dummy."

There was a child sitting on the throne now, one wearing a nauseatingly skimpy outfit that revealed too much leg, too much stomach, too much everything.

The child was her.

Draudillon clenched her teeth. Being confronted with the sight of what she had once resorted to becoming was more disturbing than her usual nightmares. Getting torn apart by beastmen was almost preferable to this.

"Well?" the child stretched their legs and arms out as they looked at her expectantly. "Like what you see, big sister~?"

"Stop," Draudillon glared at the child. "I'm not like that."

"Really?!" the child's hands shot to their mouth, their eyes widening in mock surprise. "But I'm you, dontcha know? It's not healthy for big sister to pretend like that isn't true!"

"Stop it."

"Tsk, fine," dream-her dropped their childish accent and rolled their eyes. "You're no fun at all. I seriously wonder why she even bothers to put up with you."

"Get to the point," the remark stung more than she thought it would. "What do you want?"

"What do you want?" the child mockingly asked back. "You told yourself you weren't going to try and get closer with her, but you just soak up alllll the affection she gives you, huh? Like, getting drunk so she can dote over you? Seriously?"

"It's—"

"It's not the same?" the child preempted her retort. "Then what the hell is it?"

"She's," Draudillon swallowed thickly. "She's just being friendly. It would be to the detriment of the kingdom if I pushed her away."

"Keep telling yourself that," the child paused before crossing one leg over the other and leaning against one of the armrests. "You know, I really hate you. I think I might hate you more than I hate the beastmen."

"I didn't ask," Draudillon snapped. "I didn't fucking ask, okay?"

"Oh, but you do," dream-her's eyes narrowed. "All the time, and the answer is always yes."

"…" Draudillon tightened her fists, knuckles turning white from the strain.

"Wanna know why?" the child didn't wait for her to reply. "It's because you're so… worthless. Everything you have now, everything good that's happening now, is because she gave it to you. Because of stupid, dumb luck. I wonder when she'll realize that you have nothing to offer in return. Nothing worthwhile at least."

"That's not true," the words sounded fake even before they left her mouth. "She said that—"

"She's just being nice to you. Sparing your feelings because you're that fucking pitiful," the child yawned atop the throne. "You don't deserve her."

"I know," Draudillon hopelessly mumbled. "You didn't need to tell me that."

"Then why aren't you putting some distance between you two?" the child leaned forward. "You're not willing to do that, but you also don't wanna tell her how you feel. You promised yourself, didn't you? At this rate, you're gonna crash and burn the moment she finds someone else~"

"I already told you that it's for the sake of the kingdom—"

"It's not," the child kicked off one of their shoes, the discarded article landing right in front of Draudillon. "Don't try to lie to me. I'm you, remember?"

"Then you already know why," Draudillon looked away, one hand clutching its opposing arm. "So forgive me if I don't see the point in answering you."

"Wow~ You don't see the point in answering me~!" the child snorted in disgust. "Selfish bitch. You're happy to keep things the way they are? Just one-sidedly accepting whatever she's giving you? Are you serious?"

The silence felt tangible, oppressive to the point where Draudillon wanted nothing more but to curl up into a ball and wake up from this whole stupid nightmare.

"Of course," the child bitterly sighed. "We're that kind of pitiful person after all, aren't we?" She hopped off the throne and stood to the side before dipping in a mocking curtsy. "Well, Your Majesty? Come up and claim your throne. You don't need me here anymore. You have her now, right?"

The last few words were spoken in a surprisingly forlorn tone. Like they were bidding farewell to a familiar friend they couldn't help but hate, yet chose to keep close in spite of that.

Draudillon climbed the steps up to the throne, looking at the child before sitting down.

She looked vulnerable. Weak and small. She looked like… a child.

"If," Draudillon struggled to find the right words to say. "If it wasn't one-sided, then what would you think?"

"Hurry up and sit down so I don't have to see your stupid idiot face anymore," the child turned her face away and sniffed. "You're selfish, aren't you? Just go and do whatever you want. Ah, I don't care anymore!"

Draudillon nodded. It was foolish, she supposed, to ask that kind of question to herself. "Okay. And thank you for—well, for being there when the kingdom needed to be kept together."

"What kind of weirdo thanks themselves?" the child muttered underneath their breath. Draudillon cracked a wry smile.

She sat down.

Her head was pounding. It felt like a dwarf had taken a sledgehammer to her temples.

"Awake?" someone laid a soft hand over her forehead. A golden light washed over her, taking away the gods-awful headache with it. "Did you sleep okay?"

"It was—" Draudillon grimaced. She remembered the shitty dream, vaguely, but everything before that was a complete blank. "I slept fine. Ah, ahem. So last night…" The question was too embarrassing to finish. She knew she had blacked out, but as to what she had done while drunk—

"Nothing happened," Yuriko unconvincingly lied. Draudillon huffed in amusement despite herself. "You didn't do anything weird, so don't worry about it."

"Weird?" That made her worry. "What did I do?"

"I-I said, you didn't do anything weird!" Yuriko turned her flushed face away and thrusted a bowl of porridge mixed with stewed meat and vegetables into Draudillon's hands. A savory fragrance wafted towards her, filling her with equal parts self-reproach and hunger. "H-Here!"

"Thank you," she ate the porridge with a heavy heart. The angel saved the kingdom, was helping with rebuilding, providing security throughout her lands for free, and now they were also taking care of her after she passed out from drinking too much.

Draudillon tried to ignore the shame that welled up within. Tried.

"Really," Yuriko said in a softer voice and sat beside her on the bed. "Don't worry about it."

"Saying that makes me worry more," Draudillon mumbled even while she stuffed spoonful after spoonful of the porridge into her mouth. It was good, and that made for a good distraction. Focusing on the taste meant she didn't have to focus on how badly she'd messed up. "You're well and truly set on not telling me, aren't you?"

"I might tell you someday," the angel sounded uncharacteristically serious as they pulled out a stack of papers from their Item Box. "It's not like I want to hide it. It just feels… unfair to you if I brought it up now."

"What?" What the hell happened?! "I—no, what?"

"W-Well, anyways!" Yuriko brought a report up to cover her face and loudly changed the topic, but that wasn't going to work on Draudillon— "You aren't allowed to work today."

"Huh?"

"Yeah," Yuriko nodded to herself. The enthusiasm in the motion felt forced, tense. "Yeah! No work today."

"You…" Draudillon struggled to find the right words. "You can't do that."

"Yeah I can," Yuriko peeked at her from over the report. "And I gave all your minions a vacation too."

"They're not my minions—you did what?!" Draudillon put the bowl aside and threw off her blankets and tried to get up from the bed. "Do you have any idea how much work is going to pile up—"

"I do," Yuriko gently pushed her back onto the mattress. "I know I don't work as hard as you—no one does—but I have a good idea."

"Then don't try and stop me—"

"Would it kill you to take a break for once?!" Yuriko shouted at her, eyes overflowing with worry as she bit her lower lip. Draudillon was slightly stunned. It was the first time the angel had ever gotten angry at her specifically. "Just… Please."

"I'm already sleeping," Draudillon weakly replied. "And I'm not working through the whole night like I used to."

"That's not enough, and you know it." Yuriko pulled the comforter over her. "The kingdom isn't going to fall apart just because you took a break every once in a while."

"How do you know that?" Draudillon challenged. "With everything in a state of uncertainty, I need to be working harder than ever."

"It's not just you who's working hard," a hint of annoyance crept into Yuriko's voice. "Everyone is. You keep acting like you need to do everything by yourself when you don't have to."

"All the more reason for me to do my… part," Draudillon faltered as Yuriko glared at her.

"You're going to die if you keep doing this," the angel quietly said. Something was bothering them: something aside from their current conversation. "You're really going to die."

"It's the least I should be doing. And besides—"

'You could just resurrect me anyways,' Draudillon didn't say that out loud. She had a feeling that it wouldn't go over very well.

"Selfish," Yuriko's voice cracked. "Why can't you rely more on everybody?"

Selfish bitch. The faint echoes of a high-pitched voice whispered in her head.

"All the more reason for me to do what I must," Draudillon sat up, back leaning against the headboard of the bed. "What worth do I have if I can't even do this little? I've already failed my people by every conceivable metric, allowed our enemies to pillage our lands, impoverished the kingdom through tributes to foreigners, so tell me. Do I deserve to take a break after permitting all of those atrocities?"

"Yes," Yuriko firmly uttered while rubbing her eyes with an arm. "You do. Whether you like it or not."

"You… Fine," Draudillon bit out. It was clear that the angel was adamant on this issue. "I'll take a… break. Just for today."

"Really?!" Yuriko immediately perked up. "You will?"

"I said fine," Draudillon grumbled. "I will. I'm not going to try and sneak out if that's what you were worried about."

"Cool," the angel looked genuinely happy at the mere fact that she was willing to take a break. At any other time, their smile would've been a sight for sore eyes, but at the moment, Draudillon couldn't help but feel troubled—the angel's emotions seemed exceptionally volatile today. Or was it just her own guilt at adding on to their burdens? "It's—that's great! Awesome!"

You're happy to keep things the way they are? Just one-sidedly accepting whatever she's giving you?

"Why…Why do you care so much?" Draudillon clenched the quilt in a vice-like grip. She didn't deserve this kindness. She didn't deserve this concern. She most definitely didn't deserve to be the one receiving the angel's brilliant smiles. "You were being concerned over my wellbeing, and all I've been doing the whole time was making it more difficult for you."

"Because I—because I care about you," Yuriko looked like she wanted to say something else. "And, uh, I guess that didn't really answer the question?" The angel awkwardly laughed.

Draudillon waited for her to continue.

"Sorry, that wasn't funny," Yuriko clasped her hands together and looked down. Draudillon hated herself for taking away the angel's smile. "I don't really know how to put this into words… but I…I've seen people work themselves too hard because they felt responsible for something like their families or friends, and…"

Her voice trailed off into silence before it picked back up. "And then I see you look the exact same way they did. I can't take it. I-It hurts. It hurts to see you like that."

"Oh," Draudillon was at a loss for words. What was she supposed to say to that? To something that happened, quite literally, in an entirely different world? "I'm sorry."

The apology felt weak even to her. They both knew that she'd continue to work herself to the bone—being forced to take a break was merely a brief reprieve from the status quo.

"If you really want to keep on working without breaks," Yuriko turned her head towards Draudillon. The angel looked… sad. "Then I could go back to casting restoration spells on you. And I'll go and call back all of your assistants too. Sorry about that; I shouldn't have decided all of this on my own without telling you."

"You promised Martin that you wouldn't though," a sickening feeling curled around Draudillon's stomach. Her decisions had forced the angel to kill; would they now force her to break her oaths as well? "And please don't apologize. It's my—it's my fault for worrying you like this."

"That promise doesn't mean anything if you just fall over and die from overwork," the angel's words were filled with bitterness, surely from memories of a distant land. "Anyways, it's not your fault. I should've talked with you first."

Yuriko pulled her knees up to her chin. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to guilt-trip you here. Just, ugh, why is this so hard? It's like, how do I say it, there's no point in forcing you to take a vacation if you're just going to go back and work yourself to death afterwards."

"I won't," Draudillon put her hand over the despondent angel's, ignoring the stray thought of how shameless she was to do so. "You're right; I've been pushing myself too hard. I," She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. "I didn't mean to cause you any distress. I'll do better. I promise."

"Okay," a small, hesitant smile flickered across Yuriko's face as the angel tried to keep a cheery disposition. "So um, yeah. Just try to take it easy today. I'll be back in a little bit!"

"Where are you going?" Draudillon's heart sank in her chest. It was pitiful, she knew, but she wasn't looking forward to being stuck alone in her room with nothing to do but mull over her thoughts.

Tears began falling out of Yuriko's eyes, and Draudillon immediately regretted asking.

She should have torn her eyes away from the sight. She didn't. The angel had cried before, but this felt more personal—something that shouldn't be seen by anyone.

Watching it felt sinful. Even still, the heavens did not cast their judgment upon her.

"H-Huh?" The angel noticed her staring before hurriedly wiping at their eyes. "Oh God, s-sorry. I—could you l-look away for a bit?"

Draudillon obliged as she turned to face the other way.

Everything you have now, everything good that's happening now, is because she gave it to you.

And for all that Draudillon had received, she couldn't give anything in return. Not for the first time, she wondered why the angel bothered tolerating her—even now after she made them cry.

"It's an a-anniversary," Yuriko finally said after a few minutes, her voice still unsteady with emotion. "I'm just gonna visit the forest where I first showed up in this world."

"But you've only been here for around a month and a half," Draudillon asked in confusion. "What's the anniversary for?"

"It's," Yuriko choked back a sob. "My parents."

'Draudillon, you damn idiot,' she cursed herself. "I'm sorry."

Yuriko shook her head and bit down on her trembling lower lip. "You d-didn't do anything wrong."

A familiar pang of self-hatred spiked through Draudillon's heart. Today was the anniversary of the death of Yuriko's parents, and the angel had still taken the time to care for her.

You just soak up alllll the affection she gives you, huh? I wonder when she'll realize that you have nothing to offer in return.

'It's already an awful day for her, and I made it even worse,' Draudillon tried to ignore how true the remnant of a dream was. She needed to—had to—do something even if that something was just a worthless gesture. 'Even if I have nothing to give, the very least I can do is try to comfort her as a—friend ought to.'

She knew it was a weak excuse: a weak justification to hide her selfishness behind. It was an unconscionable thing to ask of someone she'd only known for a little over a month.

You're selfish after all, aren't you?

But if being selfless meant leaving the angel alone with their grief, then she was fine with being selfish, just this once.

"Can I come with you?"