AN: Now the focus is back on minor characters. Some of these have appeared or been mentioned before.

In a Lescatian barbershop, a man named Raf shook a pair of scissors above a bin. With any of his past scissors, he'd need to do more to properly clean them, but this simple motion was enough to completely dislodge all traces of hair.

Sometimes, it's still hard'ta believe how common magic tools are nowadays… Raf thought.

It had been almost a month since Raf had bought these new scissors, along with various other tools. He'd been nervous at the time, unable to believe a mere barber-surgeon like him could afford magic-enchanted tools, once a luxury for the wealthy. But these tools had proven no less effective than the mundane set he'd inherited from his ancestors. And on top of being self-cleaning, none of them had needed to be sharpened even after a month of use.

The dark brown smock Raf currently wore was similar. It was similar to the smock he'd previously worn to protect his body and underclothes from getting dirty, yet it didn't require the hassle of regular washing, just some light shakes every now and then to dislodge any contaminants. Some other barber-surgeons that Raf knew had even taken to wearing outlandishly colourful outfits during work, just to show off.

"I'm done here!" Raf called out. "Wiz, how're you going with the patient?"

Raf walked through a doorway to a different room—his shop had previously had just one room where all customers were served, but now it had two separate rooms, one for those wanting a haircut and another for those wanting medical care. In this latter room were three beds, one of which had a patient lying down. A goblin in a pink robe was leaning over the patient's mouth, emitting a soft white glow from her hands.

"Just a bit more… okay!" Wiz said, straightening up again. She held up a small mirror in front of the patient. "Your mouth's all clean again!"

The patient—a man named Hogg and one of their regulars—looked admiringly at his teeth in the mirror. "Sheesh, I can't remember the last time they were so… white."

Raf couldn't help but feel useless. He had the skills to scrape away gunk from teeth, but in many cases, he'd encountered teeth so far gone that pulling them out was the only option. And even those skills had taken him months to truly master. Yet healing magic was able to do much more with less pain suffered by the patient, and often in less time as well.

Better put more time into learning from Wiz, Raf thought to himself. I've got to do my best to keep up with the times.

Just a month ago, Raf would have thought it unbelievable to be learning magic from a goblin. He, like most humans, just didn't have the talent for casting spells, and goblins were generally seen as dumb brutes even less capable with magic. But he was an incubus now, and people—whether human or monster—didn't always live up to stereotypes.

While Raf had these thoughts, Hogg dropped eight copper coins into Wiz's hands, then cheerfully went on his way. That left Raf and Wiz alone in the room.

"That was so much work!" Wiz grumbled. She rushed at Raf and hugged the man around the waist. "Just when I thought I was done with the last guy, he just had to come in with more work to do!"

Raf wasn't a tall man by any means, but since Wiz was a goblin, she barely came up to his chest. He patted her on the head, in between her short white horns.

"At least it's over now," Raf said. "There's nobody else lining up, so how 'bout we take a break?"

"Sounds like a great idea!"

The man and the goblin went deeper into the building, into the area meant for residence instead of business. Here, they soon found three people sitting around a table. Two of them were humans around ten years of age, one a boy and one a girl, both with dark brown hair similar to Raf's. The third person was another goblin, this one dressed in blue overalls and with a casual grin on her face. All three held playing cards in their hands.

"So, what'll you do?" the goblin, Slip, asked provocatively.

"Grr… fold," muttered the boy, Rickard. He dropped his cards face-down on the table.

The girl, Raina, did the same with her cards. "Fold. Dammit, Slip, how'd you win again!?"

Slip opened her mouth to give a reply. However, she froze when she spotted Raf and Wiz. That caused Raf's two children to turn around, at which point they froze as well.

"Did you two remember to finish your studying?" Raf asked, injecting a little disapproval into his voice.

"We did!" Rickard said insistently.

"We weren't just playing around!" Raina added.

Raf glanced at some workbooks lying open on the floor, the pages of which were filled with writing. It seemed his two children weren't lying.

Education in Lescatie was another thing that had changed. In the past, common-born children would only be taught the skills of their trade and the skills for managing a household. That was the education Raf had received, skills passed down through generations of barber-surgeons. Nowadays, books and teaching services were available for much cheaper prices, and there was a growing movement to teach children a wider range of skills. Even adults could benefit; Raf wouldn't have recognised much of the text in the workbooks if he hadn't taken a few lessons himself.

"In a way, I was actually teaching 'em!" Slip said proudly. "Teaching 'em how to know when other people're lying!"

"Sure, Slip, sure," Wiz said sceptically. "But I think they've had enough teaching from you today—"

"I'm telling the truth!" Slip insisted. "Hey, kiddos, back me up!"

The two goblins and Raf's two children descended into an argument. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, so Raf left them for the time being and moved to a different room, following a mouthwatering aroma of food.

Raf next saw his mother in the kitchen. Once an elderly woman with grey hair and a hunched back, she was now a succubus who could have passed for a twenty-year-old. The only hint of her age was the practiced skill with which she manipulated the pan. Nearby was a goblin, more muscular than the previous two, who was holding a bowl filled with slices of carrots and cabbages.

"This pork's been cooking long enough…" Ma said. "Alright, you can add the vegetables now!"

"Yes, boss lady!" said Hulk, the goblin. She dumped the vegetables into the pan.

"How many times do I have to tell you four!?" Ma said. "Since you're all joining the family, you should be calling me 'Ma'!"

Hulk looked rather sheepish. "S-Sorry… that's still a bit preshu… presun… presumptuous from us …"

Then Ma looked over at Raf. Even without her eyes on the pan, she continued stirring its contents with a spatula. "What do you think, my boy!? You're the one planning to marry them, after all!"

Hulk blushed when she heard these words. It, along with her learning to cook, was a stark contrast with how she'd acted when Raf had first met her. Back then, Hulk had—among other things—boldly challenged him to a drinking contest and won, despite her smaller stature.

"I think… I think it's fine if they don't call you 'Ma' yet," Raf said placatingly. "Our… marriage is still a ways away. Anyway," he leaned closer to the stove and the pot that lay on top, "lunch is already smelling great."

"It's also still a ways away," Ma said, though she sounded mollified and her tail flicked around cheerfully. "Still, this young lady's been a great help with making it. A quick learner, too."

Hulk blushed again and waved her arms around frantically. "J-Just followin' instructions, that's all!"

After some more conversation, Raf briefly ducked back into the previous room to check on how his children, Wiz and Slip were doing. Satisfied by what he saw, he then decided to go up a flight of stairs to the second level of the building.

Up here, Raf found his father and a fourth goblin sitting together in a study. Raf's father, like his mother, had been elderly just a few weeks ago. Even though he'd been the one to teach Raf his skills, the ravages of time had made him unable to keep working himself, lest he accidentally kill a patient with a slip of the hand. But after becoming an incubus, he looked no older than Raf did.

At this moment, Raf's father was reading a book while the goblin, Coins, was examining some documents with tables of numbers on them.

"Son?" Pa said upon seeing Raf. "It a slow day today?"

"Yeah, me and Wiz are on break at the moment," Raf answered. He looked at the goblin and the documents she was reading. "Coins, those're from two years back? You've gotten that far already?"

"Yeah, it's been fast once I got the hang of it!" Coins said. She held up one of the documents. "After reading all these past reports, I got a good idea of how this place works as a business. If we invest some of our profits into new, growing businesses, we should be able to do even better! And I'm already working on a list o' those businesses…"

Pa shook his head in admiring disbelief. "You really made a great choice, son," he said. "Eileen 'n' I weren't sure at first, about the whole four girls at once bit, but these girls are just incredible, helping out with everything."

Raf scratched his hair awkwardly. "We got together by chance, more than anything…"

"We lucked out too," Coins said, looking just as awkward. "Us four almost got killed by a hero before getting anywhere near Lescatie. And we don't like splitting up to get hitched, but it's harder than ya think to find someone who accepts us all at once."

Raf thought back to the past. When monsters first arrived in Lescatie, Raf had no thoughts of getting together with any of them. Not only did he still have some of the Lescatian fear of monsters, but he'd already loved before… and lost before. Ofelia, his late wife and the mother of his two children, had died of fever years ago, and all of Raf's medical skills had been helpless to save her.

Raf had not expected to find love again. Not only did he have two healthy children, removing the need for it, but he didn't think he could attract any woman now, as a balding and pudgy man in his late thirties… well, he had been balding and pudgy at the time, not so much now.

Then he'd met this gang of goblins. First had been Coins, who he'd encountered at a market stall haggling over the price of a magic knife. Raf had been there on his own business, and he'd ended up chatting with the goblin about life in the new Lescatie. Then Coins had introduced him to the other three members of her gang, and one thing led to another.

Almost turned them down, when they started flirting with me… Raf recalled. Thought they were too young for me… then I heard it was only by a few years…

I'm glad I accepted 'em in the end. They're a great help with the family business, and they get along so well with my family…

…and at night, well…

Raf tried to keep his face straight to not betray that last thought. It didn't seem to work, judging from the knowing smiles on the faces of his father and Coins.

"Heh, it's nothing to be ashamed about, son!" Pa said. "Why, the things I get up to with Eileen nowadays…"

Suddenly, Raff had the sound of a bell and flinched. He recognised that bell—it hung over the door to let him know of the door being opened.

"A customer?" Raff said. He waited for a moment. "Can't be one of our regulars, they would've hollered for me by now."

"Better go see to them," Coins said.

Raf left the room, walked back down the stairs and reached the business area again.

Just inside of the door was a very unusual woman. To begin with, she had grey hair and a wrinkled face, signs of age that were increasingly rare among Lescatie's population. And while her brown clothing wasn't anything special, based on her expression and the way she held herself… Raf knew she was from high society.

Why would someone like her come to a place like this?

"P-Pardon me…" the unusual woman said. She couldn't have seemed more out of place if she tried. "I've come here to… have my hair cut short…"

Raf wasn't sure how polite he ought to be in this situation. He eventually gestured towards a row of stools and said, "Then please, sit wherever you want."

The woman sat down on one of the stools. Raf briefly wondered if she'd find it too uncomfortable, but she said nothing.

Not sure about this… but a customer is a customer.

Raf looked at the woman's hair with his experienced eye. It looked as if she'd habitually worn something on her head, but not any of the typical kinds of hats.

Feels almost like… one of those fancy hats the top priests wear? No, must be imagining things… it's not like I ever cut one of them before…

Raf took out his scissors, comb and other tools again. "How d'you like your hair cut? I mean, uh, how much length do you want cut, and from where?"

"Hmm… I suppose about two inches of length from the longer portions, less elsewhere," the woman replied. "Just try to ensure the overall impression remains the same."

Thus, Raf began to give his second haircut of the morning. It took considerable concentration, thanks to his fear that he might do something to offend this unusual customer. While the days of the upper classes freely abusing their inferiors were gone, old habits died hard for him.

For a couple of minutes, the only things happening were scissors snipping and hair drifting to the floor. Then this unusual customer spoke again.

"Pardon me… but I believe it's a tradition for a barber-surgeon to… gossip with their customers?"

"Erm… some of them do," Raf admitted. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

After a moment's hesitation, the woman said, "What are your thoughts on how—no, I'm being too formal. What do you think about Lescatie now?"

Raf hesitated as well. A question like that smelled too much of a trap. Yet this stranger had come to his shop and willingly let him bring blades near her head. Ultimately, he decided to be truthful.

"There's been a lot o' changes lately," Raf said. "The first few days, weeks, it was a bit tricky to adjust. But after getting to know the monsters in the flesh, it turns out they weren't so bad after all. I've talked to 'em out in the markets, cut hair for a few of 'em, even…" Admitting his current relationship status felt too shameful before a woman of the cloth. "Even have some of 'em helping me here now."

"Hmm, I see," the woman said. "What about other aspects of life? Food, for example? The monsters brought with them many fruits, vegetables, herbs and spices that I'd never heard of before."

"Yeah, everything's changed," Raf said. He moved his scissors across a lock of hair being held up by his comb. "Me and my family were never really starving, not like those poor bastards—erm, those poor guys in the old slums. But we do appreciate all the new variety in the market. My Ma and Hulk—that's one of the monsters helping us out now—like to cook all kinds of dishes."

The conversation continued in this vein for another couple of minutes. With an ordinary customer, Raf would have finished their haircut by now. He was taking a slower, more careful approach here just in case.

"My Pa likes to read books, now that he knows how to, and now that his eyes are good again," Raf said. He ran his comb through the woman's hair again. "Never saw what's so good about reading meself, but I'm happy for him."

"…My father told me some important lessons, when I was still a child," the woman said quietly.

Raf froze. This was the first time his strange customer had said anything about herself.

"He told me that all citizens of Lescatie must be faithful to the Chief God," the woman continued. "He also told me that all who hold power in Lescatie must fight tooth and nail to keep it, and ought to fight for additional power. And he told me not to become too devoted to faith, lest it interfere with the second goal."

Raf ought to be continuing the haircut. However, his hands refused to move.

"I took those lessons to heart," the woman said calmly. "I allowed them to define my life for decades. When I was younger, there was… a man who caught my eye, yet I forced myself to look away, for he'd just be a… a distraction from the quest for power. I did not realise how much of a mistake that was… until recently."

"Well… recent events… must've been a big shock…" Raf said. It was pathetic, but these were the only words that came to mind.

"There was one event in particular," the woman said. "I saw something… someone that spat in the face of my father's lessons, both of them… I searched again, and found that man from my youth, yet he'd started a family of his own—as you'd expect, it had been decades since we'd last met. And then… I saw monsters enter Lescatie openly, and be accepted by all."

The woman turned her head to gaze out a window, at the street outside that was bustling with humans, monsters and others. Raf followed her gaze.

Some things're hard for me to wrap my head around… but she obviously regrets not choosing that guy in the past. I've talked to people like that before. Not sure if she wants my advice, but… maybe it's worth a try? If she's fine with a guy like me trimming her hair, then—

"Hey, boss, what's keeping you!?"

Two goblins entered the room—it was Wiz and Slip. They paused in their tracks after seeing Raf with a customer.

"Oh, uh, this is just…" Raf said.

"He was almost finished with cutting my hair," the woman said. "Don't worry, I won't keep him from you for much longer."

"Yeah, you better not!" Slip said, pointing a finger accusingly.

"Slip, I told you a hundred times, don't be rude to customers!" Wiz snapped. She pulled the other goblin away.

Raf resumed moving his hands, finishing the haircut as fast as he dared.

"Alright, I've tried cutting like you asked for," Raf said. He put down his scissors and comb, then picked up a pair of mirrors and moved them around the woman's head. "If you're fine with this, then it'll be six coppers for the haircut."

The woman nodded, stood up and took out a coin pouch. She handed a silver coin over to Raf.

"Thank you for your services," the woman said. "I do not need change for that, so please keep it."

"But this's over three times the amount," Raf said, feeling rather confused.

The currency of Lescatie consisted of gold, silver and copper coins, in descending order of value. Copper coins were what common folk like Raf normally dealt in, and twenty of them equalled a silver coin.

"Please keep it, talking with you has lifted some of the burden from my shoulders," the woman said. "Now, I bid you all a good day."

Then the woman walked out of the shop. Raf continued watching her through the windows until she disappeared from view. At some point, the goblins re-emerged to watch along with him.

"Well, that was just weird," Raf said, shaking his head.

"Still, a silver is a silver," Wiz said, peering at the coin. "If she's willing to pay that much, we might as well take it."

"Maybe with this, Coins'll actually let us throw a big party!" Slip said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "Instead of getting on our cases for wasting money!"

Raf put the silver coin away in a lockable iron box, along with a few dozen other coins. He then returned to the residential area of the building with the two goblins.

A simple barber-surgeon like him didn't know about the world of the aristocracy, he'd never been taught about it, never needed to interact with it. But that thought-provoking conversation had roused an interest in him.

Maybe I'll ask Pa if he's picked up any books on high society. I could try reading with him, see what all the fuss is about…

-ooo-

In a certain mansion in the Order nation of Seren, a maid by the name of Irina swept the floor. She hummed a soft melody as she worked.

As she passed by one window, Irina spotted three children playing in the front garden. She recognised them as children of some of the other servants.

They must be enjoying themselves, with how beautifully warm and sunny this day is, Irina thought. We won't be seeing much more of that, with winter approaching.

Irina continued her sweeping until she reached the end of the corridor. Here, she encountered a human woman of middling age. Like Irina, this woman was dressed in a maid's uniform.

"Irina?" said Head Maid Sharon. "I didn't think you were assigned to this section…" She clicked her tongue. "Anabelle forced her duty on you, didn't she?"

"I offered to take over her cleaning duty," Irina corrected politely. "Anabelle is having a difficult time lately, since she has relatives in Lescatie, and fears for their safety…"

"Yes, it's horrible, what's going on over there…" Sharon said. She looked out of a north-facing window. "Still, she shouldn't be adding to your workload."

"It's no trouble for me," Irina insisted.

After some more coaxing, Irina managed to get the head maid to drop the subject. It helped that the head maid had to leave to settle another issue.

She's always so busy, Irina thought. I suppose that's only natural. This mansion requires a large staff to maintain properly. Both she and Head Butler Selmy must manage dozens of people.

Irina eventually finished her sweeping. She set down her broom, then went to the kitchens to pick up a tray of tea.

"This's a new blend, better at calming the drinker, if the merchant I bought if from can be trusted," said the human chef. "I hope it helps the master, even if only by a little bit."

With the tray held in both hands, Irina carefully made her way to the master's study on the second storey of the mansion. She knocked on the door.

"Lord Karl, I've brought your afternoon tea."

"You may enter," said a muffled voice.

Irina opened the door, stepped through and closed the door behind her—temporarily taking a hand off the tray to do so.

The study was well-furnished with blue carpet, mahogany furniture and glowing crystal lights. The last of these weren't needed right now, with afternoon sun streaming through the windows, but did become useful in the evening and night.

And the lights have seen much more use in recent weeks… Irina thought sadly.

Irina walked towards a desk, behind which sat a young man with blue hair and blue eyes—and dark circles under said eyes. He was looking down at various documents on his desk, but he looked up as the maid approached.

"Thank you, Irina," said Karl Benelin, the lord of this mansion. He rubbed his temples with his fingers. "It's certainly been a long day…"

Irina quietly poured out tea from the teapot into a cup and set the cup in front of Karl. She then took a cup from a pocket of her maid's uniform and filled it with tea for herself. It wasn't normal for a maid to share her master's beverages, but theirs wasn't an ordinary relationship of servant and master. Karl had a hard time relaxing if he didn't know she was relaxing as well.

Both of them sipped their tea quietly for a few moments.

"You seem to be… in a different mood than usual, Lord Karl," Irina said eventually.

"I can never hide anything from you…" Karl said. "In the past month, I've received countless missives from various places talking about Lescatie. But only today," he opened a drawer in the desk and took out an envelope, "did I receive one from Lescatie itself."

Irina looked at the name on the envelope, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Your cousin sent word at last?"

While Irina's master might bear the surname of Benelin from his father, his mother had once borne the name of Noscrim. And his mother's brother had remained in Lescatie to continue the family there.

"I could have opened this earlier, but I wished to read it with you," Karl said. He stood up to move a chair over to beside his own. "Please, sit with me."

Irina sat on the chair. She and Karl proceeded, with trembling hands, to break the wax seal on the envelope and remove the letter inside.

Dear Karl,

It has been too long since I last wrote you. Lescatie has been tremendously busy, especially in recent times, but that is a poor excuse for leaving you in the dark.

I should first explain that we in Lescatie have signed a peace treaty with monsterkind. The path towards this outcome was… not without issues.

A considerable portion of the letter was dedicated to explaining how this had happened. Irina and her master gasped out loud when they read certain sentences.

"My cousin fought one of the lilim!?"

"That's only ever happened… three or four times in history!"

And yet all of this was in Wilmarina's handwriting, Wilmarina's writing style. Irina was familiar with these as it wasn't the first time she'd read through a letter together with Karl. If this letter was a forgery, it was an excellent one.

Thus, Lescatie has made peace with our ancient enemies. This has improved the lives of almost its entire population, with the exception of certain individuals arrested for their crimes, or who successfully fled the country to avoid the same. No longer does any Lescatian have to fear death by starvation or sickness… or the whims of a cruel aristocrat.

Naturally, the likes of myself have set down our weapons. But I am content with this. Now, I can settle down with

The following words were written in a much shakier hand than those previous.

the ones I love. You see, I have…

Irina and Karl exchanged incredulous glances.

"I never imagined your cousin would ever accept such an arrangement," Irina said.

"It certainly doesn't fit the woman who visited us a year ago," Karl agreed. "But I suppose that even improbable events can still occur. Such as the nation of heroes agreeing to peace with monsters…" he gently grasped Irina's hand, "or me finding a woman as wonderful as you."

"Oh, Karl…"

Irina had been hiding her true self, but this contact with her master blew away her self-restraint. Her ears became furry and grew several times larger, now drooping under their own weight. Feathers sprouted from her wrists and a long feathery tail from her lower back. Finally, though it was concealed under her long skirt, scales covered her legs.

"You mustn't do such things, Lord Karl," the kikimora said, remembering to use the title again. "The rest of the household is suspicious enough as it is. We must be more discrete."

Karl caressed Irina's hand, causing her to shiver from something other than cold. "If we aren't discrete in my personal study, then wasn't it also a mistake to open Wilmarina's letter here?" he pointed out. "Please, Irina. We can be intimate just for these few moments."

"Very well…" Irina said, pouting. "But, since you mention the letter, we ought to focus on it."

The two of them looked back at the letter. It had a few more details on Wilmarina's romantic situation, and then…

My father, and your maternal uncle, has now left Lescatie with one of his old friends. He has no plans to return to Lescatie, and considering my feelings towards him, it is for the best. Still, if you happen to cross paths with him… I wouldn't begrudge you a conversation with him, if you desire.

I am sorry for the trouble that you are no doubt facing, thanks to Lescatie's chance in policy. The details are still being sorted out, but I know that King Castor, Lilim Druella and various others have planned for this. One reassurance I can give you now is that you and I will never need to face each other on a battlefield.

To end this letter, I apologise for being unable to tell you all this in person. There are still many obstacles, but I hope to eventually meet you again one day. At that time, I will be able to congratulate you and your beloved properly.

From your cousin in Lescatie,

Wilmarina of House Noscrim.

At the end of the letter was a date indicating when the letter had been written.

"The date is from… about two weeks ago…" Irina noticed.

"It can't have been easy to send a letter from Lescatie to Seren now," Karl replied. "Ever since those refugees arrived with news of monsters invading, all of Lescatie's human neighbours have been on high alert…"

In the past few weeks, three Lescatian nobles and their retinues had entered Seren. There were reports of similar arrivals in the neighbouring country of Amalos. All told lurid tales of monsters taking Lescatie by force… though Irina knew these to be lies, and had advised Karl of this before. The nobles, as Wilmarina mentioned in this letter, had fled Lescatie to escape their crimes, and their tales were to justify fleeing.

"And she also needed to be sure that no unwanted eyes ever saw this letter before it reached me," Karl said. "I'm not certain how this letter eventually appeared in my drawer today, and perhaps it's safer not to try enquiring."

Karl rolled the letter up into a ball, threw it into the fireplace of the room and cast a weak fire spell at it. Within seconds, there was no evidence a letter had ever been there, its ashes mixed with those already in the fireplace.

"It's good that we know the full details now," Irina said. She refilled their now-empty cups with tea. "It's still hard to believe your cousin went through all of that…"

"Though most of the world knows even less than we did, prior to opening this letter," Karl said grimly. "If you weren't a monster, Irina, then I'd have spent the past month thinking Lescatie had truly been invaded." He took a gulp of tea. "And that Wilmarina was either corrupted or dead."

Monster infiltrators such as Irina were common in many Order nations, barring the more militarised ones like the past Lescatie. Their roles were to gather information and to quietly nudge societal attitudes regarding monsters. Many also hoped to get a husband out of it, though not all were as successful as Irina was.

And one of the reasons for Irina's success was her caution. Even in normal times, she rarely communicated with them. After the signing of Lescatie's treaty with monsterkind, and the resulting increase in security in other Order nations, she hadn't tried to communicate with other monsters at all.

"But then there's the issue of your parents, Lord Karl," Irina said. "Right now, they should be travelling in the west of the continent, but they'll return to Seren eventually. What will you say to them then?"

Karl's face twisted into a grimace. Karl loved his parents and they him, but there were still secrets between them. In particular, Karl had hidden his relationship with Irina, a monster, from them. He could hardly tell them the contents of Wilmarina's letter.

"…They'll be concerned for Wilmarina and Uncle Warran," Karl said. "And there's simply no way I can tell them the truth of Lescatie's change. They're true adherents of the Order. They… wouldn't accept that it's possible for humans to coexist with monsters…"

Irina turned in her chair and embraced Karl with both arms. "I'm sure they will accept us one day," she said softly. "Perhaps not tomorrow, or next month, or next year. But if a fortress country like Lescatie can accept my kind, then I'm sure that Seren, and the rest of the world, can do the same eventually."

"Eventually…" Karl said into Irina's shoulder. "But what about my immediate future, my duty towards my house? I'm already nineteen years of age, my parents constantly urging me to find a good partner… When they return, they'll be even more insistent, thanks to the situation…"

"There are many prospects," Irina replied. "I'm sure we can find someone who already has eyes on another man, or has no interest in men, or anyone at all. Someone who'd agree to you quietly having a mistress, and wouldn't desire you otherwise. There's precedent of that, among human nobility."

Even if a bride like this could be found for Karl, the two of them would still have to lay together to produce at least one child, one human child to be an heir. Irina, Karl and the theoretical bride would just have to grit their teeth and bear it then.

The other, unmentioned possibility was a bride who'd love Karl and be loved in return, yet would also accept Irina's presence. But this would be nigh-impossible in an Order nation. As noted in Wilmarina's letter, she wouldn't have agreed to her group relationship without meeting and speaking to people already in one. And neither Irina nor Karl would like going down this route.

On an emotional level… I wouldn't be at peace unless Karl was looking at me, and me alone.

"But even outside of that…" Karl said. "I've been attending Seren's council of lords lately, and the general atmosphere… is that something has to be done about Lescatie. Not by Seren alone, of course, but…" he glanced furtively towards the door, "in the latest meeting, there were whispers of us contributing troops to a… future crusade."

Irina shuddered. Crusades were the greatest military operations of the Order, involving armies numbering in the tens or even hundreds of thousands, launched for grand goals like attacking entire Demon Realms. None had succeeded after the ascension of the current Demon Lord Lilith… but that hadn't stopped the Order from trying, no matter how many lives were lost or upended.

Irina thought about Seren. She imagined farmers working in green fields, fishers traversing the many rivers in narrow boats, craftsmen making both tools and works of art in their workshops. Though it wasn't the country of her birth, she'd grown to love it nonetheless, even before finding the love of her life here.

If a crusade occurred, many of those people would be conscripted into the army, made to march against an enemy they could never truly defeat. Some would die from the rigours of the march itself. Others would desert in fear, meaning they'd be executed if they returned to civilised society, or spend the rest of their lives on the run if they didn't. And those who actually met monsters in combat… some of them would die as well. The monster reluctance to kill only went so far.

On the other side, there would also be casualties among monsters, incubi and allies. It had been years since Irina had been around others of her kind. Even so, she pictured the faces of her parents and younger sisters, of her friends in her hometown, and she feared for them.

"Is there anything you can do?" Irina asked. She loathed doing or saying anything to hurt her master, but she had to ask this question. "Is there anything you can do to stop, or slow it down?"

"I've tried," Karl said weakly. "As much as I could without seeming like a monster sympathiser. But nothing I've said can change the course of history. And even if everyone in Seren agreed with Lescatie in wanting peace… we could still do nothing to hold back the likes of Merukarn."

"Your cousin did mention that there's a plan for this," Irina said. "If the Demon Lord's fourth-born could obtain peace with Lescatie, of all nations, then I'm sure that preventing a crusade is within her power. And if not by her power alone, she has the full resources of Royal Makai behind her, together with new allies in Lescatie."

"Perhaps," Karl said. "But until we see what that plan is… all we can do is wait, and hope."

Irina and Karl continued their embrace for some time. They would have to separate eventually, but for now, they sought comfort in each other's arms.

Even with these circumstances… Irina thought. His arms are no less reassuring than… the very first time…

Irina had come to this mansion three years ago. When she'd first laid eyes on her new master, she'd instantly been smitten… yet had restrained herself. Chasing after a high-ranking lord would be very dangerous. It was much safer for her to do her job normally to avoid being discovered.

But she hadn't expected he would be the one chasing after her. Even though she'd just been performing her normal duties as a maid, he took interest in her after about seven months. He often found chances to speak to her.

And one day, he'd called her to his study and bashfully presented her with a bouquet of flowers—not from a professional, but picked and arranged by his own hands.

"I know… I know that this isn't proper," Karl said. "Society itself would not accept us, as partners for life. But… until my parents give me no further time, and I'm required to marry some noblewoman… would you…" he blushed, "would you…"

"Oh… Lord Karl…!"

She should have rejected him gently. Some monster infiltrators found love during their missions, but this always required them to disappear with their husbands, in the end. And the heir to a noble family would draw too much attention if he disappeared.

She had not done that. After seeing his feelings for her, she'd decided he deserved to know the truth. Her teachers would have screamed at her for being so reckless.

Of course, that truth had left him stunned. He'd asked for some time to think it through. Irina had thus spent the next few days wracked by nervousness, fearing she might have to flee the mansion at a moment's notice to avoid the Order's wrath.

That had not occurred. And in the two years since then, Irina had spent every day… and quite a few nights… in satisfied bliss. That reckless admission had been the luckiest mistake of her life.

I cannot afford to make more mistakes, though. I still need to maintain my cover. I should still avoid any attempts at contacting other monsters. The chance is small, but if I was discovered… Karl would be suspected as well, as my presumed target. We'd both have to flee for Lescatie together… and might not reach the border before heroes cut us down.

Irina tightened her arms around the love of her life.

No matter what happens in the world, I will never let any harm come to him.

AN: In medieval (and later) Europe, barber-surgeons were an important source of medical care for the common people. Researching them for this chapter was quite fascinating.

I've been planning this twist regarding Wilmarina's cousin and his maid ever since I first mentioned them back in Chapter 7. Their backstory is a much more recent addition.