Chapter 93: dont blink
Lower Fire Month, 30th Day, 600 AGG
'I don't wear this nearly as often as I should,' Draudillon gently rubbed the light-blue crystal pendant. It was a gift from Yuriko back when the two of them had first been preparing to set off to Mohajar: the crystallized teardrop of a ridiculously powerful Seraph or something equally inane. 'Yuriko would probably like seeing it on me more often.'
Well, the dragon queen knew she would like it were she in the angel's position, but Yuriko never made any comment on the infrequency of its presence around her neck. 'Flaunting this necklace might result in it being stolen—ahhh, I'm just coming up with excuses, aren't I?'
Truthfully, she always had the mindset of 'saving' it for some 'important' occasion as with the rest of the potent items her beloved had lavished upon her. The articles were… eye-catching. Judging by their effects and the laughably over-the-top components alone, each was worth at least a kingdom's ransom. Certainly not the sort of attire she'd want to wear everyday even taking into account the value and security they represented.
And anybody who could get through her bodyguard angels could easily penetrate whatever defense the items offered anyway.
"Cerde, the situation in the ballroom?" Draudillon checked her appearance in the mirror one last time. Though she'd never admit it to Martin, getting remeasured for new outfits had been a good call.
The gray grown tastefully hugging the dragon queen's form revealed her shoulders and stopped just above where it would begin showing cleavage. Her arms were covered in a pair of black, elbow-length evening gloves, legs in similarly colored stockings peeking through the dress's single thigh slit, and chest graced with the Seraph's Teardrop she had been contemplating moments earlier.
"Everything is in order, Your Majesty," Cerde murmured, distracted as she was with rearranging her sovereign's hair. The intricate chignon was adorned with a diadem of silver and platinum filigree, sitting in substitution for her usual dragonhorn crown. "Most of the invited guests are in attendance, I believe."
Draudillon resisted the urge to brush back one of the face-framing strands handing down the sides of her head. "Excellent. And Yuriko?"
"I can't speak with certainty, Your Majesty, but there shouldn't be any difficulties," the attendant gave a reserved answer.
"Knowing her, it's a coinflip," Cerde backed away, allowing Draudillon to stand up and observe herself in the full body mirror. "A fine job as always, Attendant."
"Your Majesty speaks too kindly," they demurely accepted the praise, dipping into a steep bow.
"One last thing," she said without looking at the attendant. "Inform the chief steward that Vera's services are no longer required."
An angel had caught that particular attendant snooping around files they had no business touching. Unfortunately for them, some angels could see through walls.
Draudillon found the courage to perform espionage in a castle jammed full of 'divine messengers' admirable. Intelligence agents were a different breed, and she'd have to settle with being on the backfoot until the Draconic Kingdom had the spare resources to train more of their own.
'The Slane Theocracy? I was under the impression that their agents adhere to a subtler doctrine—unless they wanted to provoke a specific reaction,' doubtful. The Theocracy was hardly prone to wastefulness, and throwing away an undercover agent this close to a head of state seemed rather careless. Or maybe they were driven by desperation. 'Charm magic has been ruled out. There wasn't time to stay for the entire interrogation, so I'll just make a decision after reading the report.'
Whatever the motivation, she couldn't keep subversive elements close at hand. Or she could, but that required implementing a sweeping multitude of changes pertaining to how her castle functioned. 'Eh, there's more pressing matters at hand. Maybe I'll consider this again a year or so from now.'
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Then, I'm afraid we'll have to impose ourselves on the attendees," Draudillon beckoned the two Gatekeepers to come closer with a slight toss of her head. "Unless you have prior commitments."
"I do not, Your Majesty," Cerde fell in line a full step behind the dragon queen as they headed towards the ballroom.
They threaded through the castle's passages, servants and other staff quickly moving out the way. After a few minutes of walking—thank goodness she'd selected comfortable footwear—they came before a door leading to the upper level of the ballroom.
"You may leave now, Attendant."
Cerde bowed, turned around, and disappeared around a corner. Draudillon thought they could stand to express themselves more, but in all fairness, their discretion was why she had picked them as what essentially amounted to her personal handmaiden.
'Hm, I'm being rude to her peers… they're also plenty capable,' she brushed aside the intrusive notions and addressed the Royal Guard waiting at the door. "If you would, Sir Kruz?"
The guard nodded, cracking open the door and whispering to the herald on the other side before holding it open fully, stepping to the side as he did so.
"Her Majesty, Dragon Queen Draudillon Oriculus, the Dark Scale Dragon Lord!" The herald announced, musicians subtly adjusting their volume with her descent down the stairs.
She made a gesture to dismiss the Gatekeepers, sending the lion-headed angels to join their brethren along the edges of the ballroom. Having them nearby was too intimidating for the purposes of a social convention, and a distance this short was trivial for them to cross if a crisis struck.
'This is looking like a repeat of the reception gala,' few people had been willing to approach her and Yuriko then, and few were willing now. Those either blessed with courage, cursed with stupidity, or both in a number of cases. 'If this continues, the situation might become a tad troublesome.'
Passively intimidating others by existing was entertaining at first, but she really needed to build relationships with the neighboring countries and other notable organizations.
Of those who had previously been willing to initiate dialogue, Prince Zanac she saw steadfastly standing by the refreshments, and Jircniv had declined the invitation, citing health concerns. Draudillon honestly wondered why the Emperor wouldn't ask an angel to resolve the stomachaches.
The dragon queen plucked a glass of fruit juice from the platter of a patrolling attendant. 'I suppose they could always speak with the Draconic Kingdom's nobility; I'll just need to remember to follow up with the Royal Court… gods' sakes, not her.'
"It seems we meet again, Cardinal Santini," Draudillon inclined her head to the matronly executive and put away the fan she'd been holding. She'll worry more about the repercussions of Yuriko's reputation later. "You must forgive us for delaying our visit to Silksuntecks."
"Given the situation, I do believe that can be forgiven," Berenice Nagua Santini good-naturedly chuffed. Whether that extended to the Cardinal's true feelings, she couldn't say with absolute certainty. "My peers and I wouldn't expect a response while much still has to be done in the Draconic Kingdom."
The reply sounded double-edged; were they rubbing their own operations into her face? An innocent reference to the Draconic Kingdom's internal developments? Whatever, just another sign to accelerate counterintelligence plans. "Indeed. Recovery is progressing faster than we've ever dreamt of, but…" Draudillon affected a sigh. "Many wounds can only close with time."
She could institute subsidies encouraging her citizens to bear more children, though that would bring along another set of issues. She could cut costs by replacing as many workers as she could with angels, selling the summons' services to the noble houses throughout the kingdom, but that was hollowing her foundation to build an unsteady tower over it. In the end, the best solution was to let nature run its course.
"Even with the Lady of Wings, Your Majesty?"
Dragging Yuriko into this was inevitable, wasn't it? "She is but a single person, Cardinal."
"In possession of power many would attribute to a god. Not to mention the legions of heaven that serve as her hands."
"Then there exist wrongs even gods can't immediately right," she sipped from her glass of grape juice. "Though of course, I wouldn't dare proclaim Lady Yuriko as one without consulting the temples."
"Your Majesty plays a dangerous game," pffft. Okay. "I implore Queen Oriculus to take care in avoiding any cause for offense."
'You know, or I suppose you wouldn't, the courtship isn't what you're imagining.'
The music swelled and subsided, lilting in a pleasant cadence that facilitated casual conversation but made eavesdropping a chore.
"I think," Draudillon ponderously began. "The Theocracy is rather kind for keeping my well-being in mind."
Berenice's frown deepened.
'She's thinking that I'm running the risk of ruining humanity by treating this topic too lightly. An ignorant playing with powers beyond her understanding—ironic.'
Either way, those of the Six already seemed to have made up their minds about her; Slane's high leadership probably wouldn't add her beloved to the major deities of their pantheon, but considering the angel's popularity, installing Yuriko as a minor god in their canon was a matter of course. 'Ugh… won't that cause friction with Yuriko's existing followers? I'll assign her to deal with that—no, won't something disastrous happen then?'
Draudillon came to a solution with a sage nod: she'll assign Martin to oversee the angel.
"Kind or not, I hope Your Majesty treats the subject with the seriousness it deserves," Berenice, the old bitch, interrupted her incredibly important train of thought.
"Cardinal Santini, you may rest assured in knowing that no expense has been spared in compensating Lady Yuriko for her benevolence," all of which the angel had summarily rejected, but Slane didn't need to know that particular tidbit. "Unless there's something crucial I'm missing?"
"… no," the Cardinal of Fire replied after a pause. "As long as caution is exercised, we have little reason to worry, Your Majesty."
'You failed to poach her the first time; this second attempt won't be any more successful,' despite the negative sentiments Draudillon harbored towards Berenice, she respected the nerves of adamantite the woman had to threaten her in a castle stuffed to the brim with country-destroying angels. "I see. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Cardinal?"
"Nothing that can't wait for another day," Berenice's usual, genial smile slid back on like water over smooth stones. "I wouldn't want to take away precious time to speak with the Dragon Queen from my countrymen."
'What—oh no, no, no she is not doing this,' the dragon queen swore she could catch a smug smirk on the Cardinal's mouth as they introduced a blond, gray-eyed man positively exuding an air of self-assured superiority. "Queen Oriculus, this is Lord Victor Av Gachet, owner of a number of Slane's more noteable estates. Lord Gachet, you stand before Dragon Queen Oriculus."
"There are times where one must choose between honor and pleasure," he elegantly bowed. "But today, Your Majesty's grace has taught me that they needn't be separated."
Victor extended his hand, waiting for her to return the gesture.
Draudillon did not return the gesture.
It was impolite to be sure, but she was long past the days of letting philanderers slobber over her hand. Godsdammit, where was Yuriko? 'Her assigned attendants need to hurry.'
The man awkwardly retracted his arm and coughed into a closed fist. "Excuse me if I appear overeager, Your Majesty. The stories of your… appearance and wisdom do you an injustice. With my own eyes, I can see the bards have failed to encapsulate your brilliance."
'Is this funny to you, Cardinal?' Berenice was one, poorly formulated tavern joke away from bursting out into laughter. 'Are the executives of Slane so easily given over to the shallow joys of petty revenge?'
"I'll leave the two of you to converse then," the Cardinal respectfully lowered her head and walked off to rain hellfire and brimstone in the form of Lord Gachets on another poor soul. Bitch.
"An incredible woman, that one," Victor gravely nodded. "She once served in the Scriptures, if Your Majesty can believe it."
"Impressive," Draudillon wasn't surprised, but it was information she hadn't known before. Maybe there existed upsides to talking with Victor—improbable, the Theocracy wouldn't have allowed him to come if there was the possibility of leaking critical intel. "Slane values committed service from its leadership, I presume?"
As expected, the Theocracy magnate preened under the indirect compliment. She only hoped her efforts to indulge his pride wouldn't be wasted. "Your Majesty's insight is admirable; indeed, our highest offices belong to those most dedicated to the country."
'Despite his… personality, I shouldn't let my guard down,' Slane would never let an incompetent manage great amounts of wealth. "Is that so? I am heartened to hear our ally's virtue is not limited to merely martial endeavors."
Draudillon threw up a little in her mouth. Blergh.
"Our strengths lie in multiple fields: military, culture, infrastructure, and business among others. And never let it be said that we hoard the fruit of our blessings."
"Looking to diversify your investments then, Lord Gachet?" He was almost definitely involved in a number of unsavory trades, so she'll need to involve Yuriko if any headway was to be made there. Perhaps when they finally followed up on Berenice's offer.
"That would be ideal, yes," Victor idly rubbed a gilded gemstone pocket watch. "I believe there's few places safer to conduct business than here. But enough of this! We'd never stop once we start, and it would be a shame if we spent the entire evening discussing the material."
'I was kind of expecting to do that,' looked like he had handlers to report to; authorities that needed to grant permission before Victor could make decisions. The Draconic Kingdom's growth was a valuable opportunity for their neighbors, but diving into unfathomable waters was markedly silly. Nothing solid would be hashed out at this ball; although, opening up the opportunities was good enough.
"I'm amenable to saving a more detailed conversation for the future," she switched to a lighter casual tone. "With how the world has been recently, you must have experienced your own fair share of excitement, yes?"
"We've had some promising knights prove their valor recently," "Sir Londes Di Clamp, Breton Ral Lain … and of course, my own son!" The man chuckled as if he'd contributed a particularly clever piece of banter. He did not. "Goodness, I still remember that rascal raising hell with his friends in the backstreets! I don't believe I can count the number of times I had to send a servant to retrieve him from the city guards."
Victor Av Gachet shook his head in amusement. "Boys will be boys, wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"
'I don't care about your shithead son,' naturally, she refrained from saying that out loud. Some face had to be given to a member of the Theocracy's upper crust—although maybe not considering Yuriko's own clout… "He sounds like quite the energetic young man."
"Haha! Quite so, Your Majesty, quite so," Victor sighed. "Thank the gods he finally decided to make something of… my goodness."
A hallowed silence enveloped all present.
'The attendants had their fun, I see,' Draudillon couldn't decide between rolling her eyes in exasperation or scowling with envy. Therefore, she picked the easier option and stared at the angel along with everybody else. 'Though I can't complain when they've done such a wonderful job.'
Her beloved was… stunning. Any dress, jeweled ornament, anything would be made a masterpiece were Yuriko the one to wear it, but the flowy light-blue gown was especially spectacular. Their hair was woven into a singular, voluminous golden braid speckled with miniature gemstones like so many shimmering stars scattered over an auric sky.
Even without their wings and halo, they were angelic. A gentle, but firmly adamantine radiance emanated outwards from their being: an inviolable boundary separating Yuriko from the world that sought to reach her.
The angel's widened eyes, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar setting, landed on her. They waved a gloved hand—a gesture Draudillon returned with a teasing smile.
"Lady Yuriko Hanami, Champion of the Realm, Breaker of Beastmen, the Lady of Wings!" Altarama, her newly appointed Marshal of the Court, was visibly resisting the urge to flinch away from the angel. '『Blessing of the Illuminated Heaven』, was it?'
The passive skill was separated into five stages: area illumination that increased with each level, increasing the fear and mental subversion resistance of 'allies' while decreasing those of 'enemies,' improving allies' resistances against disease and poison, slowly healing allies via ambient positive energy exposure, and the final step automatically turned all the unfortunate undead who entered the aura's radius.
By every standard, it was a truly absurd ability. For instance,『Turn Undead』was a daily-use skill yet its effects were emulated for free by Yuriko with the sole downside being a decreased area of effect. Healing, buffing… all accomplished at no cost, mana or otherwise.
Once again, she was reminded of how ridiculous it was that a quirk in reality granted absolute power to what essentially amounted to a bunch of escapists exhausted with life.
And again, Draudillon was glad said quirk chose Yuriko.
'I wonder how high she has the aura turned up,' although it didn't possess any function pertaining to directly instilling 'fear,' save for perhaps undead, the aura's pressure was undeniably noticeable—if the brightness wasn't eye-catching enough already. She was excluded from the negative effects anyway. '… That ability makes for surprisingly effective crowd control.'
Indeed, nobles and dignitaries alike parted before her beloved's presence, none eager to suffer the consequences that came with trespassing upon the 'divine.'
"Mm, she looks nice," Draudillon murmured to herself, ignoring how the Theocracy's dignitary was staring at her in disbelief. "Excuse me, Lord Gachet. I have someone important to greet."
"O-Of course! Please don't let this old man's reminiscing get in your way," he tore his filthy gaze away from her beloved, so enamored was he that the implied insult went over his head.
"It was a pleasure—ah, one last thing," she glanced back at Victor, rotating her head just enough to see them shivering. "A piece of advice from me to you: I would be careful where you direct those eyes of yours, Lord Gachet."
The dragon queen didn't stick around to hear his spluttering. He could go complain to Berenice.
"Lady Yuriko," Draudillon raised her voice, letting it carry over the muted din of the ballroom. "We almost thought you flew away. I trust our accommodations weren't that unpleasant?"
Yuriko shot her an adorable look filled with betrayal. "N-No, everything was—is fine."
She continued walking towards the angel, stopping only when they could nearly feel the other's breath. Regardless of who was responsible for the delay, a smidgen of teasing was required to wipe away the sliminess of her prior dialogue.
"In that case, I pray the rest of the night is equally acceptable," people were likely boggling at the sight of her acting so familiarly with the 'Goddess.' At the moment, Draudillon wasn't able to devote any attention to the bystanders. "Will you accompany me for a little while?"
The angel wordlessly nodded and allowed her to drag them off to the side. She shot a stern glance at the musicians who had ceased their performance with Yuriko entrance. Encouragement given, the music picked back up with gusto.
"That was mean, Drau," Yuriko was having trouble ignoring the stares, eyes shifting to and fro every couple of seconds. "I was only late 'cause Reila kept wanting to try different hairstyles and makeup…"
"You don't look like you're wearing any though?" Draudillon inspected their face. It was the same comforting appearance she woke up to on most days.
"Erm, wellll…" the angel shuffled their feet, already embarrassed by their next words. "They said: 'makeup just ruins what you have going on.' Yeah, I know. It's kinda—"
"True."
Yuriko scrunched her mouth to one side. These types of social gatherings weren't for them apparently. "Agreeing makes it feel weirder."
"Truth is stranger than fiction," she fiddled with the Seraph's Teardrop. "I'm serious, you know?"
"Hmph," miffed golden eyes fell upon the gifted necklace, and whatever tension had been packed within melted. "Uh, you look nice too! I, I mean, nicer! And the necklace is great on you!"
Draudillon frowned, pretending to be upset. "Of course it is. The person who gave it to me has excellent taste after all."
"… But I didn't even design it."
"One's friends are a reflection of their character," the dragon queen pompously declared to her beloved. "Your friend's eye for beauty similarly speaks well of you. Also, I don't see why not having a hand in its design changes anything; most people leave the details up to the jeweler anyway."
"I guess? Hisae was kind of a delinquent, but she was nice and liked talking about fashion?" Why did that sound like a question? "We got along pretty well, so there's that."
"Do you miss her?"
A rare look of profound contemplation crossed Yuriko's face. "Miss… We sorta drifted apart after she got a new job or something—zero time for games and Yggdrasil wasn't as popular anymore. Yeah. Yeah, thinking about it, I miss her a little bit."
Her smile took on a brittle quality. As bad as Yuriko's old world had been, there were still lingering regrets and good things now out of reach. "Who knows? Perhaps she's somewhere in this world as well."
"Maybe," the angel's tone was doubtful. "She wasn't online, but maybe. A-Anyway! Did I miss a lot?"
Draudillon thought to comment on the sudden switch, but ultimately decided not to. Yuriko had already talked at length about their old guild and the friends she typically played with—Hisae Yamada included. Getting jealous over a platonic relationship would be ridiculous. "Not particularly. I spoke with Berenice, if you remember her?"
"Brown hair Theocracy lady?"
"The one who invited us to the Theocracy," she confirmed. "Actually, she seems to be convinced that I'm playing with fire, treating you the way I am."
"Ehhh… Do I come across as dangerous?" Auryn light dimmed as the aura diminished.
"To anyone who doesn't know you," Draudillon reassuringly patted their arm. "People will always fear those outside their sphere of understanding."
Yuriko's head tilted to the side. "That makes sense. She didn't look very scared when we were meeting though."
"The Cardinal of Fire has a history of service with the Six Scriptures," the dragon queen explained. "Coupled with a pre-existing strong character, suppressing fear would be child's play. 'Conceal thy flesh / May the lords of heaven find it lacking / The lords of earth, beneath notice.' Something of the sort."
"I—what?" Her beloved frowned in confusion.
"Just a quote," Draudillon waved the question away. The world's innate auto-translation didn't cover such applications of language, but Yuriko's ability to speak in tongues did; however, that still wouldn't prevent meaning being warped, especially with poems. "My point remains the same."
"Huh. I was trying to do the whole talking-to-people thing too, but then they started crowding, and…" Yuriko trailed off. "Handling stuff like this, it's amazing how you do it. How any of you guys do it."
"You've improved since your arrival. Never doubt that."
"Th-Thanks Drau," the angel messed with their braid. "Still, I wish I could—be useful here, or something. Not just awkwardly stand there and use my aura to not have to talk to bigshots."
'You're the biggest 'bigshot' here,' there was some measure of irony to be found in her beloved's worries. 'I've already taught the basics; it's up to her to apply the knowledge. Puhaaa… helping her unwind would be the best thing to do.'
"If you want information, feign ignorance," Draudillon gave her empty glass to an attendant. "People tend to let their guards down when they're of the impression that you don't know anything. On the other hand, it'll also make them think you're an easy mark."
"But that's what I've been doing the whole time. Except the um, pretending part."
"You're adorable," she brushed a stray strand of her beloved's hair behind their ear.
Yuriko mumbled in turn. "Just 'adorable?' "
"Do you really want me to say the rest in this crowd?" Draudillon raised an eyebrow. "I'll oblige if you're sure…"
"L-Later. Somewhere else," words rushed out the angel's mouth, who suddenly became aware again of their surroundings. "Oof, Renner and Calca aren't here."
"They both sent messages apologizing for the delay," the two people Yuriko got along with the best being late was amusing after a fashion. "You'll get to see them soon enough—"
"Your Majesty. Lady Yuriko," a group of delegates from Re-Estize had worked up the courage to approach the pair now that Yuriko had disabled their passive blessing. Draudillon noted that these people kept away from their kingdom's Second Prince, which—needless to say—was not flattering for Re-Estize. "Excuse us if we're intruding, but we couldn't miss the opportunity to speak face to face with the Draconic Kingdom's rising star."
"Oh! Hello," Yuriko turned to greet them. "You all are…?"
A few among the group's rank scowled at the inadvertent offense. Funny how innocent questions could turn into insults through misunderstandings. Funnier still was how these same people who had cowered before Yuriko's skill-amplified presence now had the gall to be upset. 'Because of a triviality no less.'
"Lords and Ladies," Draudillon quickly stepped in. "You wished to speak, no? Please continue."
"Very well, Your Majesty," the heavily scarred man in the forefront bowed. His body spoke of a physique that might've been impressive two decades ago, but his voice and eyes retained a warrior spirit even if youthful vigor had long since departed his body. "For the sake of clarity, allow me to introduce ourselves again: I am Marquis Boullope, one of the Six Great Nobles of Re-Estize. Behind me, are the heads of noble houses who share the same glorious vision."
"People sure like the number 'six…' " Her beloved whispered to themselves. Had Renner not explained anything about their home kingdom's political situation—wait, she was being unfair. Draudillon couldn't blame somebody else for not doing what she herself had neglected.
"Excuse me?"
"Thinking to myself," Yuriko hurriedly waved her hands. "It's nice to meet you guys! Uh, I hope everything is going well?"
"I daresay even better than well, now that we're basking in your holy presence," weren't they scared stiff by said presence a couple minutes earlier? "It shames me to admit that I never found much appeal in attending temple services, but my eyes have been opened this very day. Why, were the temples to name you in their pantheons, they'd see their coffers filled by day's end, ha!"
"Thank… you?" The angel squirmed uncomfortably at the intensity of the Marquis's staring. Draudillon fought the urge to pull Yuriko someplace where people wouldn't ogle them and possibly dismiss the nobleman while she was at it. "I don't really mind though. Never attended services myself, so it'll be weird to get mad when other people don't."
'Shit, that's a slip,' Yuriko may as well have announced she had nothing to do with the Theocracy. Which wasn't a lie, but it was preferable for people to believe that than the truth. Draudillon could almost see the tensions with the established temples escalating further. "To be clear, we have a working relationship with the temples despite not being involved in their day to day activities."
" 'We?' " Marquis Boullope cocked a curious eyebrow. "I wasn't aware Your Majesty spoke on Lady Yuriko's behalf."
'Gods, fuck off,' Eye-Rolling Dragon Lord was a more fitting epithet than Dark Scale Dragon Lord. She didn't even have scales. "Did I come off that way? My intention was merely to ensure proper context was given."
"What Drau—Queen Oriculus said," Yuriko rushed to agree. Cute. "Context and stuff."
"I see. Then there wouldn't be a problem if Lady Yuriko were to collaborate with other groups?"
"Errr, I guess it depends?"
"Of course, of course," Marquis Boullope chuckled. "Far be it from me to insult you by begging for your services. I'd be more than happy to discuss matters of compensation—"
"What she means to say is," Draudillon interjected much to her invisible ire and the man's very visible annoyance. "She's currently busy assisting in the restoration of the Draconic Kingdom. Perhaps at a later date, Marquis."
"It's nothing intensive, Lady Yuriko," the bullish man pushed on, ignoring the dragon queen. Balls were decidedly awful when most of the attendees were content to dance atop a dangerous precipice. "A few angels to ensure the security of our fiefs from would-be invaders shouldn't impact your efficiency here. If mere gold is insufficient, well, a favor from a Marquis is nothing to scoff at."
Draudillon narrowed her eyes. "You would ask her to display hostility towards our ally?"
"Your Majesty's allies, and I made no mention of Baharuth," Boullope glared. "The Dragon Queen is bolder than the tales suggest for her to drag the Lady of Wings into mortal politics."
"Guys—"
"Likewise, Marquis. Did you hire the Magician's Guild to scry her? You seem to be so very familiar already."
"Guys—"
"And you would limit Lady Yuriko's potential," he made a wide, sweeping gesture at all the angels in the ballroom. "It is a supplicant's duty to understand their position, not tie their benefactor down to a pet project—"
"It's not a fucking pet project."
Everyone fell silent for the second time that day as Yuriko's aura flared, just a few degrees below blinding.
Unlike before, the silence suffocated and choked the expanse like a funeral shroud. Permission to speak was… simply not granted.
A single transgression before the Lady of Wings would see their lives extinguished. Words were strangled at the tongue, and thoughts smothered by the mind.
Don't speak.
Don't even think.
Don't even dare to draw breath.
If the angel's speech earlier this day had humanized them, then their fury was a reminder that there existed a line drawn with the fires of heaven.
Draudillon however, was feeling mildly—yes, it was inappropriate for the situation—smug. The aura excluded her from its detrimental effects after all, and unlike the other attendees, she knew Yuriko wouldn't escalate without due cause.
Yuriko pointed to the doors. "Get out."
The terrified nobles, stunned into silence, fearfully obliged as they scurried out the ballroom. Everyone standing between them and the exit quietly moved out of the way, only daring to whisper after the dragon queen nodded for the musicians to carry on.
Draudillon reminded herself to check if Marquis Boullope still wanted to engage in less diplomatically questionable avenues of cooperation. As satisfying as politically ostracizing the man would feel, the commoners living under his aegis didn't deserve the consequences.
Regardless, she had somebody more important to address.
"We need to work on gauging appropriate levels of response," the dragon queen detached the folding fan from her waist and spread it out with a snap.
"I don't like it."
"Hmm, as boorish as he was, the interaction went well. Anyhow, hardly the worst I've had to deal with."
"You've dealt with worse?"
"It's fine, dear. I'm used to this level of—"
"You shouldn't," Yuriko's fists lay clenched by their sides. "You shouldn't have to be used to it."
"Saying something so embarrassing with a straight face…" Draudillon drew the delicate fan across her cheek. "It seems I may need to keep a closer eye on you than I thought."
Clumsy the angel might be, but they still had their moments. Rather often as of late.
"I'm not going around telling it to everybody, y'know?" Yuriko angrily glowered, a sight that caused the dragon queen's heart to palpitate with adoration. "Just you."
"I," she put away her fan in one smooth motion and offered a gloved hand to the angel. "Am glad to hear that. In any case, shall we review what you've learned?"
"Learned… wha—now?"
"We're at a ball," her gloved fingers curved, beckoning them to come closer. "Naturally, dancing is to be expected."
"Y-Yes," Yuriko clasped her hand. Draudillon pulled them closer, taking a great deal of pleasure in the bodily warmth linked between them. "Gotta move with the beat… the beat, right…"
"We won't do anything difficult, so just try to stay limber," she took the lead, putting the angel through a series of steps that ought to be familiar to them. Get them relaxed first and build up some confidence before pushing the boundaries of their comfort zone. "You're doing fine, dear."
For her, it was easy to ignore the glances tossed their way; she had plenty of experience whenever foreign delegates or Cerabrate beheld her child form. Yuriko on the other hand, kept sneaking a peek at every person in the vaunted ballroom other than her, anxiety heightened by the eyes tracking them. Memories of the recent outburst probably weren't helping.
The dragon queen would be lying if she said she didn't find it at least a little bit endearing.
'You've worked hard,' traces of guilt accompanied the feelings of affection. Putting the angel's underdeveloped dancing skills in the spotlight was a hasty move in hindsight, but it wasn't as if they were awful. Even if they were, Draudillon doubted she herself would care; although, Yuriko certainly would have. 'I should do something nice for her after this. Maybe an undisclosed trip into the city proper? The festivities aren't as stuffy outside these formal gatherings…'
"It's rude to look elsewhere when you're dancing with someone," Draudillon arched an eyebrow, causing the angel's gaze to snap back towards her.
"S-Sorry, Drau. I'm just super nervous—"
"If that's the case," she lowered Yuriko into a dip and savored the small squeak that accompanied the pink creeping over the angel's face. A shame they were in polite company. "Then keep your eyes on me."