'This has been quite a day… no, week… has it been a week? More than a week?' Time ceased to have meaning for Momonga, at every turn the Guardians seemed to be up to something else, and this 'banquet' was only the latest in a long line of things… from taking over the Kingdom's underworld to training the peasant girl, Enri, as a paladin.
'At least nothing unusual can happen at a banquet.' Momonga thought as he felt Albedo's body sidle a little bit closer to him, their arms linked together, it was good to feel supported.
He glanced at her, a ruby smile was almost painted onto her perfect face, her dress, white with a spiderweb pattern just above her chest to expose enough of her womanly body to entice him, but not so much that she was even remotely lewd. Tasteful in her attractiveness, her right wing went around Momonga's waist and gently urged him to draw closer to her as well.
"This… this is my dream." She whispered, "My love, my love, my lord." Albedo said when they reached the door to the banquet hall.
The door rose to the high ceiling and was of golden bronze, a wide double design, but if one of their hands should touch it, the doors would swing open. But neither of them did.
"Do you need a moment, Albedo?" Momonga asked when she sniffled.
"Not if it wouldn't please you, my lord." She answered, but a tremble went through her body.
"Do you need a moment, Albedo?" Momonga asked a little quieter, leaning in to whisper the words, she blinked several times.
"If it please you." She answered and then looked down as she composed herself, she looked up only when his other hand came across his body to rest on her arm.
"Take a moment." He said, and she nodded in a very tiny fashion.
Albedo's words streamed out suddenly out of nowhere, "It's just, this is my dream. From the moment of my creation by Lord Tabula Smaragdina, I saw only you. You were standing in front of me the day I appeared, the day he created my personality, my will, my desires. But it was you who stood watching as I was formed from the mud of creation. I think, I have always thought, my father created me for you. Now I'm finally on your arm, I want to enjoy it a moment more."
"Albedo…" Momonga could think of nothing to say but her name. His hand squeezed her arm a little tighter. "Albedo." He said it again, her radiant beauty and the fact that she so completely and unexpectedly bared her heart to him the moment before a grand ball he had no idea he'd even ordered, if in fact he had… it made her seem more vulnerable than ever.
He looked at her as he never had before, not as the fierce level one hundred succubus, not as the Guardian Overseer or even as an NPC. 'She is a woman… a woman in love…' And she'd bared herself to him more nakedly than if she'd stripped herself of clothing down to the last scrap.
'I'm such a coward.' He thought, and for the first time since he'd begun crossdressing, he couldn't feel the confidence it always gave him, compared to Albedo's declaration, everything about him felt secret and fearful.
And yet he could not find any words that were adequate to give to her in return. "Stay at my side tonight." He said, it was the only thing he could think to say, and her smile returned, broader than before, she bowed her head to him.
"As you command." She answered, and they reached for the doors together.
They swung wide with a singularly smooth motion and Sebas, who stood only a few feet within, announced their entry, "Lord Momonga, Guildmaster of Ainz Ooal Gown and leader of the Forty-One Supreme Beings… and Lady Albedo, Guardian Overseer of the Great Tomb of Nazarick!"
He bowed deeply to the pair, his formal butler's attire hugged his fit, powerful body, and he held his posture until they passed him by.
The table was long and decorated with plates of silver and bowls of gold, goblets carved from diamonds, and the tablecloth of red silk stretched from one end to the other. The guests all stood to welcome the pair, soldiers of Gazef Stronoff each clad in flavor texted clothing that was now as real as the NPCs and the tomb itself, it was hard for Momonga's inner nerd to not marvel at the workmanship of the old game.
Each uniform was of crisp design, sharp creases of black jacket and pants and red lapels, shining black shoes so mirror polished they were mirrors you could use to give yourself a shave.
Gazef's was broader than theirs, a similar design meant for a man of higher station, it had clearly been borrowed from the former owner of the room in which he'd been staying. Though which of the guardian's rooms he'd been given, Momonga was unsure.
Draudillon however, was clad clearly in Bukubukuchagama's clothing, a shimmering blue and silver design that flowed all around her body, her hands kept touching it as if she could not believe it were real.
The reaction she had was common, most, save for Princess Renner, seemed to be unable to resist touching the fabric of their clothing, while in the case of Enri, this obsessive touching came with a deep red blush as if she were afraid to admit how far beyond her station her clothing was.
'That's actually fair… I doubt nobles and commoners mingle much in this world, it has to be uncomfortable for her, and for the soldiers under Gazef. Peasant or not, he would have some familiarity with nobles. The rest? No, not much. Still, if I want to call them friends, in this place, only parity can exist.' That decision came to him like lightning out of a clear blue sky and put a spring to his step as he made his way to the head of the table.
"My friends." He said as he reached his seat and Narberal Gamma approached to push it beneath him, and Solution pushed Albedo's chair forward at his side. "The meal will be slightly delayed as we wait for one more unexpected guest, so I hope you will indulge my selfishness and be satisfied with wine before we call on the first course."
This seemed to catch the guests off guard, but unwilling to rebuke him in his home, they only smiled along and held up their goblets of diamond to be filled by the servants.
"A toast, to friendship, the only ship that can never be too crowded." He said, holding his cup out, and from one end of the table to the other, the sentiment was echoed.
"To friendship!" They echoed before drinking, only for a collective gasp to go up as the sheer quality of the wine hit them all in the same moment. For those who had been longer in Nazarick, nothing was a shock, not any longer. But for those who were newer, or who knew enough about wine to be able to speak to the quality of it at a single sip?
It was shaking them to their core. The quality of drinks and food was a statement of wealth, power, and influence among nobles, a poor meal and poor wine meant a poor noble. Or at least one who did not value his guests.
This however…?
'It's like the nectar of the divine!' Queen Draudillon thought and shared a glance with her General, who nodded as she read her majesty's mind.
Such was the quality that who could have resisted a second glass?
Or a third?
Or a fourth?
Or a fifth, before the late arrival entered the banquet hall.
Momonga rose, to the shock of his guests, and approached Neia as soon as she came in, her military gear was gone and instead she was wearing blue and white clothing that were originally made for Aura and Mare. A simple form fitting dress that hung to her knees, and white boots that added a few inches at the heels. She was flushed red when the lord himself approached her. 'Had he not come to me, I doubt I could have moved from this spot, not with all those eyes on me.' Neia acknowledged, the rare and unusual nature of the situation was throwing her entirely off her mental balance when he rescued her from indecision and put his hand on her shoulder. "Come, be seated, and enjoy my hospitality." He said, a smile on the human face he wore at that moment.
"Ah, yes, I thank you, Majesty." She said, unable to think of him in any way but as a King, it wasn't until a maid with glasses approached and put a tender hand to Neia's back that she could look away from him and do as he said.
With that, Momonga returned to his place at the table and tapped his fork to his cup to call for the attention of his guests. "First, let me thank you all for coming, I realize that what sits at this table is… strange, far beyond the realm of experience for each of you. We have peasants and nobles, heroes and common soldiers." He cleared his throat, but before he could let a hand fall into place against his caster's robes to feel the skirt beneath, he felt Albedo clasp his hand and squeeze it.
In search of confidence, he found it in her private affection and reassurance.
"But that is the spirit of this place, this wonderful paradise built by my friends and I as a home, a place of security, retreat, comfort, and counsel. When here, I ask that you put aside all thoughts of rank or station. Queen? Princess? Peasant? Soldier? This is a world of its own, beyond rank, where those who are most in need of peers without concern, can call their own. Treat all within these walls as you would a dear friend, and you will always be welcome in my heart and hearth."
The sheer forcefulness of his will shook them to their collective cores as his max level charisma drew every eye and opened even the tightest locked heart. "In that spirit, eat, drink, and be happy, if you happen to overindulge, think nothing of it. You'll be put somewhere safely to rest." He promised, and as if that were granting them permission to relax completely, as the first course came on and the rich smells of soup and lobster, crab and steak, hot pies and more, made their way to the table one course after another…
While the wine continued to flow.
The topic of conversation was of course, the host himself, with General Oma's story of the vanquished beastman sending awe throughout the table. Gazef Stronoff and Enri's stories were similarly enthralling…
And unsurprisingly, the conversation turned to matters political as they traded knowledge of each other's origins, home countries, and the stations occupied therein. To the more clever, the purpose became obvious. Renner caught Draudillon's eyes and leaned beside her counterpart to whisper, "Have you worked it out yet?"
Queen Draudillon nodded. "I wasn't sure at first, but the former bandit and the head warrior were the missing pieces for me. He's gathering power here, powers from everywhere, famous names and royalty, those with talent…"
Renner wanted to weep with relief, 'Someone who is not a total idiot!' She covered her relief with a silent nod of agreement. "Yes, if he does this with all the surrounding nations, declaring equality within these walls, with his sheer power, he can become the arbiter of international disputes. To go against him would be suicide… it will be the end of war as we know it… especially with powerful warriors and adventurers and even the underworld on his side…"
"Then we are in agreement… we will cooperate with his vision? Details to be hammered out after the wine has worn off?" Draudillon suggested and drank deeply before holding up her glass for another refill.
"Yes. I have no choice as things are… it will be difficult to bring father and brother around, but not impossible." Princess Renner held out her filled cup to Draudillon, and when the Draconic Queen handed her her own cup in return, it was a sign of agreement that both would drink to.
Brain, surprisingly, was the first to pass out beneath the table. But he was not the last to do so. Freed of all danger, concerns, and obligations, one by one the soldiers slipped into slumber and had to be carried off to their rooms to the music of Beethoven played on strings from a corner of the dining hall.
That was the pace of things, and for the first time in a long time, Momonga felt nothing but pure, unadulterated happiness. The noise of conversations and the expressions of glee, the laughter of jokes and the friendly banter as bonds were solidified or forged afresh… it was all that his old guild truly was.
It didn't hurt that each of them seemed to remind him of some part of his friends… 'Like my old guildmates when we met… even where we differed, we were truly… friends, comrades… how I wish they could be here for this…' He thought, a pang of sadness tugged at his heart that was punctuated by laughter whenever one of his guests fell asleep.
Of course the wine helped his mood even more, and it helped Albedo's too, if he were to judge by the faint hint of rose on her cheeks and the flirtatious smile and touch that she cast his way between exchange of words.
When Neia, who seemed to have taken to conversing heavily with Enri, engaging in a drinking contest with the peasant, cup for cup, finally claimed victory over her opponent, it was a most pyrric victory. She smiled, raised her cup, and promptly fell forward with her face in an empty bowl of ice cream.
Enri however, was face first in a bowl of soup, having not gotten to desert as she seemed obsessed with getting refills on that one dish.
They were the last, save for Momonga, Albedo, and the myriad of attending servants.
As CZ and Lupusregina Beta carried the two guests over their shoulders like sacks of snoring potatoes, the master of the tomb and his guardian overseer rose to their feet.
"I would call that a success, My Lord. I'll escort you to your room as you tell me your thoughts." Albedo smiled at her now rosy cheeked master and clung to his arm when he stood back up, albeit with a light sway to his body.
"An excellent idea, Albedo." Momonga pronounced, and the two began to walk with slow, deliberate steps toward the bedchamber of Nazarick's last supreme being while he relayed his view of how things went.
She hung on his every word, even the slurred ones, taking careful mental notes for any future improvements. Her heart sang when he said, "I'm so impressed you could put something of this nature together so quickly…"
The praise set fire to her loins as they reached the door to his room.
As he touched the door to open it, she didn't hesitate to step inside with him. Before he could ask, she rose on her tiptoes and whispered duskily into his ear, "I promised to stay at your side, all night long, my lord."
When he turned to face her, her lips captured his own… and his night of fine dining began its closure with the sweetest of desserts.