Chapter 106: please leave a message after the beep

Upper Earth Month, 15th Day, 600 AGG

Niluf Halihal, Captain of the merchant vessel Halihal, was decidedly having a terrifically terrible day.

"I hope she's not bothering your crew too much, Captain," Her Majesty, the Queen of the Draconic Kingdom, Draudillon Oriculus apologetically smiled. "If her actions ever interfere with the workings of your ship, please don't hesitate to tell her."

Then as if she had realized that no, he was not going to put his life in his trembling hands and inform the Goddess, Queen Oriculus added: "Or myself for that matter."

'Like that's any better,' Niluf bitterly kept the retort to himself. In hindsight, he really should have found some way to politely decline their sudden request to hire him and his crew on a time charter. The money was good—damn good—but no amount of gold in the world was worth getting on the bad side of this particular pair; although, to be fair, turning down the request wouldn't have been a very wise alternative. "I shall keep your words in mind, Your Majesty."

Judging by the fact she was still smiling… na, he wasn't familiar enough with her to know whether that meant anything.

For a while, both were content to let the silence stretch: him, because talking with royalty was stressful as hell; her, because she was probably preoccupied with big, important problems he'd rather not be aware of.

"I've always wanted her to experience more things like this," she spoke first, wistfully almost, with an expression that felt wrong to gaze upon. "Expand her view of the world, take her to see beautiful sights and partake in delicacies…

"It's funny that this is her idea of asking for too much," a low snort escaped her, somehow exuding a regal elegance. "Some parts of a soul are forever."

'Don't stare,' after rising from his bow, he carefully kept his gaze above the Dragon Queen's shoulder. As it turned out, his sovereign wasn't some perpetual twelve year old child, but a knockout beauty who put the top courtesans of Baharuth's establishments to shame. 'Rianes's tits, I don't want to get dragged deeper into this mess.'

A solid number of his crew were still sneaking glances at her when they thought she wasn't looking, even after he told them to keep their damn eyes to themselves. Understandable, but if the Queen took offense, they best be ready to bite the bolt.

"Your humble servant has full confidence in Her Majesty's capabilities," he cautiously said. "Though it may be improper of me to assume, surely the realm has a wealth of riches to partake in."

"There's no need to stand on ceremony with me," uh, nope. He refused to take any chances here, nuh uh. "It is your ship after all, Captain. Anyhow… yes, I suppose I'd prefer to share that assumption."

She lifted her head towards the crow's nest. Niluf reluctantly followed her eyes, and beheld the Goddess chatting with the poor lookout. Huh, wearing tight shorts beneath a breezy dress was—ah, no no no no, perish the thought. "I'm glad she seems to be having fun."

If Queen Oriculus was a woman the sculpters would beg to model for them, then the Goddess was someone who'd make them toss their tools and quit the trade.

Seeing her was admiring a once-in-a-century masterpiece, walking away, and then realizing everything else you'd ever see from now on was going to look like a maggot-ridden street rat covered with its own vomit in comparison.

Humans couldn't be that. Humans weren't some, some embodied ideal or concept—or a fey dream brought into the waking world and given sublime clarity. It wasn't natural. Not a damn bit, and he didn't care what those crazy priests preached.

"I as well, Your Majesty," he forced himself to chuckle. "We were worried the Halihal would've disappointed her."

"Lay your worries to rest then," Queen Oriculus reassured him. "It's clear to see she's quite taken with your ship. I can't say I have many complaints either, though I must confess I rarely have the opportunity to sail."

Niluf took the comfort for what it was and nodded. He nearly let himself get carried away by that calm voice, only to be reminded again that this was the Queen. Furthermore, the Queen who led the Draconic Kingdom through decades of a vicious war where losing meant her people would become kitty kibble.

Most people had to put effort into building a group. It took time, material wealth, attention to marketing, and still, a dedicated following wasn't easy to create. In eras of extreme hardship, this ironically became easier with smaller gatherings, but maintaining a large, cohesive whole on the scale of a kingdom?

Queen Oriculus was born to lead. Others set out to gather; she simply was, and people flocked to her naturally. Even now, hers was a magnetizing presence beyond just ravishing splendor, a gravity that pulled them towards her just by standing on the same deck—the same ship—and it felt like nothing could be more natural.

And then there were the tales of the ancient dragon magic she wielded. Not that anybody he knew could confirm the rumor, but the fact it existed in the first place meant something frightening set her apart from the other rulers in the region.

'Maybe I should give the men some slack,' he silently admitted. 'How the hell are you supposed to not stare at her? At them?'

Too bad for them. He didn't care if it was hard; the consequences of screwing up were too horrible to stomach.

"Captain Halihal?" Queen Oriculus startled him out of his ruminations, arching an eyebrow at his physical overreaction. Overreaction from her perspective, not his, mind you. "Is something troubling you?"

'Yeah, you two,' as if intent on increasing his misery, the Goddess decided to wrap up her business with the lookout. "Just the usual, Your Majesty. Details regarding the voyage and whatnot."

The angel's descent was rapid until their momentum vanished right before her feet met the deck. Unnatural was an understatement; to him, it looked less like flight and more like the hand of an invisible god dragging a doll across space. He hadn't seen her wings flap even once the entire time.

"Drau, did you know that mermaids swim in this river?!" The Goddess excitedly accosted Her Majesty. She then, to Niluf's dismay, shifted her attention from the Queen to his pitiful self. Brilliant gold pierced him, plumbing the depths of what constituted the Halihal's Captain. "Have you ever met one before?"

"A few times," he praised himself for not stuttering. "They don't approach us often, and I think the aquatic races avoid the well-known waterways within the kingdom for the most part."

Niluf glanced at Queen Oriculus who was nodding in agreement. "If Your Holiness wished to meet them, I would suggest paying a visit to the shores of the Asturian Sound. There aren't many, and it's usually wanderers or small tribes that frequent the area, but you'll have better luck than here."

"Ehhh…? Why's that?" The Goddess's shoulders slumped. Dammit, what was he supposed to do? Lie? "The water tasted clean to me."

'?'

"You drank—forget it. For one reason or another, large aquatic settlements avoid the Sound and its surroundings," Queen Oriculus calmly came to his rescue. As expected of Her Majesty, to speak to the monstrous angel without fear. "The Theocracy certainly doesn't make it easier for them, though it's likelier they were never inclined to establish themselves here to begin with. As for why that's the case, I'm unsure. I don't believe any of the Demon Gods assaulted the sea with the same ferocity they did the land."

"Calca said Roble had a lot," being on close terms with the Holy Queen only made sense, he guessed. The Goddess was the sum total of their temples' fanatic teachings or something. "Dunno a whole bunch about the Demon Gods, but we also have, um, a ton of water we're next to?"

"We aren't the Holy Kingdom," Niluf violently flinched as Queen Oriculus fondly flicked the angel's forehead, eliciting a surprised squeak. He was going to desperately try to forget that saccharine sound the instant these two disembarked—its contrast with her deeds filled him with a nauseating dread. "You have to consider other factors: the waters bordering Roble's west could contain more desirable resources. Fewer predators. Safer avenues of transportation. A conclusive answer can't be reached with the knowledge we have."

"Oh, well that sucks… Would it be a good idea to try to attract some to live nearby?"

"Something for the future," was he supposed to be listening to a topic this serious? "It won't be because you wanted to turn the sea into a personal aquarium though."

"That's so mean," the Goddess's mouth scrunched up whereas Queen Oriculus smirked. "I just figured it'll help, y'know? Having allies that can do water stuff."

She expectantly looked at Niluf. "Right?"

'Please don't drag me into this,' now, he didn't think disagreeing or agreeing would necessarily get him on either of their shitlists, but the way of living a long, healthy life bent away from excitements like participating in arguments involving powerful people. "Uh…"

"I agree," Queen Oriculus saved his bacon for the second time in a day; the Captain could scarcely recall feeling moved by so much gratitude. In Niluf's heart, he swore eternal loyalty because if the Queen ever screwed up, they were all doomed. Because really, if he had to believe in an outcome, he might as well be optimistic. "There's no shortage of potential benefits in the case we form an arrangement similar to what the Holy Kingdom has. On the other hand, it's risky to make investments when we lack the full picture and with the kingdom…"

Her Majesty trailed off, the rest left unsaid yet obvious. "Let's continue this in my cabin, shall we?" Before the Goddess could answer, Queen Oriculus turned to him. "Captain Halihal, I must excuse the two of us. Do keep us informed of any unexpected developments."

"Of course, Your Majesty," thank the gods, they were finally retiring to rest in private. "Is there anything I can do for you two in the meanwhile?"

"Catch a mermaid, if—ow!" The Goddess pinched her from behind. "I jest, I jest. Leave the mermaids be."

"Draaau!"

The couple walked off, amiable bickering growing dim as they headed towards the stern where the properly furnished cabins were located. Niluf released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in.

"Are you one-hundred percent sure the room's fine?" he asked Erschael, his Chief Mate who was approaching him after confirming the coast was clear. Asshole.

" 'Bout as good as it'll get," the blond shrugged. They'd expressed the same frantic worry at playing host for their guests, but eventually came to a sort of helpless sanguinity. "Let's face it, Cap'n. Whatever we pull out ain't ever gon' stack up to the Queen's fancy castle."

"You think that excuse will cut it when they come knocking?" Niluf shook his head. "Never mind me, you're right. I'm just a little tense right now."

"A 'lil?' " Erschael mimicked the motion before tilting his chin towards the crow's nest. "Saw 'er with Bris. She big on magic or what?"

"I couldn't hear them from all the way down on the deck. Besides, even if I could, I'd rather sell the ship first than try to eavesdrop—although, she did ask about mermaids just now. Might've been asking the boy about that."

"Fair 'nuff. Bet she ain't much interested in the lad's magic anyhow," Erschael grunted.

The statement felt slightly unwarranted, albeit understandable seeing that Bris was 'only' a First-Tier spellcaster, but masters of the magical disciplines had a penchant for obsessing over spells regardless of tier. If the Goddess couldn't be called a master of magic, then nobody did.

… He needed to follow up on the boy later. Any insights were acceptable.

'Try to keep him from getting mobbed by the crew once his shift's over,' Niluf decided. 'Everyone's going to want to know, so we might as well do the whole share and tell crap in a meeting. I don't want unsavory rumors to spread and be blamed for it.'

"Mermaids," the Chief Mate rubbed his mouth, brows wrinkling in concern. "What she gotta do with the Merfolk? Is this, this gon' be all same-like with the beasties?"

"Her Majesty and the Goddess seemed inclined towards cooperating," the alternative would suck for him and his peers, heaven granted strength or not. "So long as they don't find us tasty, I guess."

Which wasn't the certainty Niluf wanted; plenty of stories were told of sailors who got ensnared by some Merfolk and promptly eaten as a result. To be fair, these stories were rarely indicative of reality, especially with the aquatic bloc that existed next to Roble, but for the sake of everyone involved, he hoped the 'exceptional' rarities would try to find cuisine less offensive to the angels.

"Feh," Erschael looked like he wanted to spit on the deck. "Be nice to see 'em try'n take a bite."

"It is what it is," Niluf laughed with a humor he did not feel. "I'm going to go check if there's anything to keep an eye out for on our stops. Are we good on supplies?"

"Ye, I reckon I can take 'nother peek at the inventory though."

A large portion of the food supplies had been brought by their honored passengers, actually. He still didn't understand why the two had taken it upon themselves to provide provisions for the entire crew, but nobody complained about the unusually high quality.

"Being careful can't hurt," he nodded anyway. The gesture felt like an expectation being laid upon him and his crew: 'we won't settle for poor fare.' Gah, it would've been easier not having to deal with that kindness. "Gabin, Boris, and Dorin doing alright?"

"Mmmhm," okay, so stressed. Stressed was normal in this situation. Worked for him, and a little bit of tension kept folks on their toes. "Preparin' dinner last I popped by."

Niluf squinted at the sky. The time was… a few hours past noon, two at most if he went with his gut—same as yesterday and the day before which coincidentally aligned with the start of this trip. Everyone really was nervous, even if they were holding it inside while taking the anxiety out on their work instead.

"I'll be headin' to the hold then," Erschael left him to his brooding. "Good luck with yer sun-gazin' Cap'n."

He absently acknowledged the statement and blinked the spots from his vision. As brusque and blunt as many of the sailors aboard the Halihal were, they at least knew when to push boundaries and when to stay in their lane. Small mercies, he supposed.

If he were being truthful, this whole traveling business wasn't going too bad. Sure, there was always the chance the Goddess would abruptly decide they fucked something up and rain down wrathful damnation… which she hadn't yet! Then again, there were plenty of people who she hadn't slaughtered yet.

Niluf didn't think it was likely to happen, though if it did, nobody on this continent was stopping her. Putting his faith in Her Majesty was tempting, buuuut on the other hand, the Queen had a vested interest in keeping the angel happy—the pressure on his sovereign was undoubtedly heavier by magnitudes.

'The guys were gossiping before they boarded,' the Captain's stomach sank, only slightly because it'd already sunk so low he didn't think it could go any lower. 'Fuck, who cares if they're both women, shit.'

When the Queen announced their courtship, the overwhelming majority of the kingdom approved, or well, he figured most people would. Anyway, apart from his assumptions and actual reality, whatever that may be, Niluf was aware that some found the situation odd. The Draconic Kingdom was a kingdom with all that entailed, and its ruler making such a choice in consort without consideration for succession…

None of his connections were privy to the exact circumstances, so concubines weren't out of the question. Hell, gods knew what parts might be 'normal' for an angel—

Niluf pinched his chin hard enough to leave an angrily red mark.

Somebody else with heavier balls than him can walk up and open their damn trap, but he sure wasn't going to be saying anything to her face or otherwise, and his crew best follow his example.

'Couldn't be me,' he thought to himself with a bit of relieved pride as his feet took him to the chart room. This stretch of the Ordelia was familiar, but reviewing never hurt anyone. 'Those two can do whatever they damn please; I don't care what.'

One of the lion-helmed angels guarding the sources of his current stomach pains crossed his path. The searing light shining out the Gatekeeper's—he'd enough presence of mind to remember that—visor froze Niluf midstep.

He gulped, wondering how easy it would be for the angel to send the whole crew, ship and everything, to the bottom of the river.

Then the overkill of a guard glided past, taking the tiniest fraction of his terror with it. Including that one, there were ten or so others scattered throughout the Halihal plus a few others patrolling up above—and godsdammit, he wasn't going to get any sleep for this entire job, was he?

Great, Niluf internally screamed. Just when he'd almost managed to forget about them too.

'Flying is more enjoyable than this.'

To clarify, she preferred the speed that flight conferred, and traveling by air would certainly quicken this whole visiting inspection business—yes, she was aware it was meant to be a break. In terms of comfort, Draudillon wouldn't hesitate to admit she had… a personal bias. She wasn't blind to what most other passengers thought of being ferried around via angels.

Being held by Yuriko was pleasant, pleasant enough to outweigh the annoyance of feeling the wind whip through her hair, though that had a charm of its own.

"I wonder what your fancy boat is like," Yuriko, having 'nothing to do'—which was a blatant falsehood she nevertheless refrained from calling out—continued to braid her hair. "Keep forgetting to check it out whenever a break rolls around."

"We wanted a ship on considerably short notice," Draudillon pointedly remarked. "Chartering one for a voyage takes time, and though we could requisition a Crown vessel, I'd rather avoid doing so when those are all busy."

"I know," the hairs on her skin stood up as a wandering touch brushed against her nape. "Was just curious. I'm enjoying this, y'know? It's relaxing even if it's boring sometimes."

"If you're bored, I can find more for you to do," Draudillon helpfully offered.

"Guh—!" She could almost see the grimace from behind them. "I, I'm suuuper busy, actually."

"Is that so? What a shame."

Teasing all done in good-humor, of course; Yuriko worked incredibly hard and thus deserved to indulge in their curiosity. Draudillon was doubtful the Halihal's crew would ever tell the angel when they crossed a line, but it should be fine? At worst, the crew might get mildly distracted.

'Too many stray eyes for my liking,' considering the nature of who exactly the men were gaping at, faulting them would be unfair… so long as they understood their place. 'It's not as if this type of reaction is limited to specific groups; nobody remains unaffected. Still, unpleasant.'

"Drau, you remember that squire guy you knighted?" The wordless noise of waves, feet, and chatter and clatter coming together to form a peculiarly peaceful ambience, was interrupted. "Uhhh… I forgot his given name, but family name Cetil?"

"What about him?" Draudillon asked. The dragon queen already knew, of course, having inspected the crew list prior to chartering the Halihal. She still looked forward to hearing what her beloved had to say; Yuriko made friends easily, and there was value in cultivating friendly connections regardless of status.

If only the sailors wouldn't gawk and ogle so much.

"His brother's a cook here," Yuriko answered, redoing a portion of the braid. "Gabin. Weird how that happens, huh?"

"Is it?"

"Isn't it? One guy becomes a knight, and the other ends up working on a boat—not saying that's a bad thing, but that sort of thing doesn't happen a lot here, I think," her beloved paused, before continuing with a little less liveliness. "Though where I came from is sorta the same. Most people land a job sitting in front of a desk for the rest of their lives, lucky or not…"

Draudillon frowned. "Oi."

"Uh, y-you spend a lot of time at the throne too?" Yuriko weakly offered. "It's more of, y'know…"

"A need to continue the family trade?" Farming would've been the obvious guess, but records showed the Cetil household had sold their farmstead a decade or so ago to start a shop in Oriculia. Connections with a family friend related to Raugin's old knight-master, she believed. "The Cetil's have an elder sister running an apothecary in the capital alongside her husband. He works on the docks when business is slow, but I could be mistaken."

Her beloved's hands stopped moving. Draudillon twisted around only to be met with a pitying pair of downturned lips. "What? You can always check for yourself if you don't believe me."

"Drau stalks people…" Yuriko released a loud, affected sigh. "I didn't know she had this side to her…"

The dragon queen huffed as Yuriko's facade crumbled into giggles. "Why do I tolerate this type of treatment?"

"Because you love me?" Their fingers resumed their task, completing the braid before tying together the end with a black-satin bow.

"I suppose so," Draudillon inspected the braid with a feigned casualness. "Because I can't imagine permitting this behavior otherwise."

Yuriko crawled around from behind their back, the bed creaking with the movement, and threw themselves over her thighs.

"Draudillon," they happily murmured. "Draudillon Oriculus."

She felt her heart skip half a beat at the sound of her full name. "What is it now?"

The angel rolled onto their side and pressed their face against her stomach. "Just wanted to say your name. It's really pretty, y'know that? Rolls off the tongue and everything."

"…" For a moment, she was caught speechless: less so by the compliment itself and more by the pure sincerity suffusing her beloved's voice. One would think she'd be used to it after the past couple months. "I'm—thank you. And I feel likewise regarding yours, of course."

"Do you not get told that a lot?" Yuriko curiously asked. "I know I'm kinda biased, but it stands out."

"A name isn't usually something you receive compliments for," Draudillon coughed into her fist and considered the question a bit further. "At least not like… that, and then there's my position as well. Perhaps in private, far from prying ears."

"Hmmm," the angel pondered, quickly coming to a conclusion. "Makes sense!"

"Have you?"

"Mm?"

"Your name," she clarified. "Have you ever been complimented for your name?"

"People from my old world sometimes said it was cute, but usually because they were being friendly," Yuriko kicked their feet up and down. " 'Not like that' sums it up, honestly."

The reply made sense; what she knew of the angel's homeland painted a picture of a society with a notably heavy emphasis on hierarchy: an emphasis that fell short of the 'severity' she, the current head of a royal dynasty, and the rest of the kingdom was accustomed to—though among strangers, there was a rigidity and detachment even at the lower levels of the community Yuriko hailed from, she noted.

Anyhow, with that in mind, different methods of address had certain conventions governing social distance surrounding them. Which… wasn't much of a big difference. Humans were the same wherever, in the end. "How odd. It's quite a beautiful name."

"Th-That won't work on me anymore!" She watched in amusement as Yuriko stammered. "I'll let y'know my Anti-Flattery defenses are running smoothly!" Then as if the redundant addition made the statement any less silly: "Without problems!"

"Forgive me, but I have yet to hear of such a convenient countermeasure," Draudillon played along, delight waxing with the angel's mounting embarrassment. "Would you be so kind as to educate me?"

"E-Educate? It's, I uh—argh!" Yuriko's glare held no heat. "You're messing with me."

"I am, yes," she sagely nodded. "Truth be told, I've been aware of the 'Anti-Flattery' category of defense techniques since time immemorial."

The angel stuck out their tongue in response. Unfortunately for them, she had easy access to said tongue and didn't hesitate to abuse the privilege. "Th'opf i'!"

Draudillon released the organ. "It goes something like that; although, I admit some might find it crude—"

"Okay! Joke's gone on for too long," Yuriko loudly interrupted with a clap. "Moving on to something else!"

"Very well," she easily acquiesced. Her beloved made a surprised noise, clearly startled by the ready agreement. "Any other impressions of the Halihal you wish to share?"

"I like the food?" They slowly sounded out the words: more question than statement.

"I would hope so," Draudillon massaged Yuriko's shoulder. "You and I were the ones to select what to bring onboard, after all."

"That's true…" They released a contented groan. "Hey, that reminds me: some of the guys—Derrick, Irfan, Abraf, erm, I forgot the others, but they noticed we didn't pack any alcohol and offered to share their own."

"Last I checked, I'm not supposed to be drinking," not to mention she was plenty satisfied at the moment, Draudillon added to herself. Alcoholic stupor was an escape, and she currently had nothing she wanted to escape from.

"I know, and I'm glad. Just felt wrong to hide it though," Yuriko pulled out and opened a flask of some strong, foul-scented liquor. Draudillon idly remembered asking them not to eat and drink while in bed, though this was just a 'presentation' of sorts, she supposed. At least it wasn't a repeat of the time they dropped cake crumbs all over the sheets? "Don't take this the wrong way, but I sorta found it funny you had that kinda reputation. Like, who notices someone didn't lug along any alcohol, then goes up to them and asks, 'Yo, you want any from my stash?' Right?"

Her beloved's voice softened. "Sorry. It isn't funny at all, is it? I really am happy you kicked the habit to the curb, Drau. If I were somebody big on drinking, I don't think I could've done that."

"You don't have to apologize for telling the truth," Draudillon gestured towards the flask of rotgut—nostalgically reminded of when she tried drinks from the Gremlin's Gut—and chuffed. "My reputation as a, ah, drunkard isn't undeserved. The fact that even these sailors have heard the stories is sufficient proof.

"In any case, it'll be some time before the masses come around," she continued. "I can't imagine the vineyards and distilleries being overly pleased once they confirm the rumors of your positive influence, dear."

"You drank that much?!"

"No, but decisions concerning my lifestyle are due to receive a fair bit of scrutiny… which occasionally results in such and such nonsense getting spun and spread. I'll probably let slip a few hints here and there soon; having my sobriety come at the cost of ruined livelihoods leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"That's good," Yuriko approved before taking a whiff of the noxious liquor. "Blergh, what is this stuff anyway? Who drinks this stuff anyway?"

"You don't drink that for the taste," the angel closed the flask and tossed it back into the Item Box. Into the same compartment her crown was being held, she thought with some humor. "The primary purpose of drinking is to get drunk, and there's interesting results to be had when one forsakes any consideration for flavor."

"I can't get drunk, so if it tastes bad, I'll have to refuse!" Yuriko wiggled into a more comfortable position. "Remind me to return it later."

"Remember these things by yourself," Draudillon lightly scolded them.

"Awww…"

A comfortable atmosphere settled over the cabin. It was the sort of environment where talking, or saying nothing and doing nothing were all equally fine.

'The sort of reprieve we were hoping for,' and indeed, there was a marked difference compared to the brief stretches of rest back at the castle. Tension she hadn't even known she'd been holding onto was slowly released with each breath, each second passed in this calm. 'I could fall asleep like this.'

Her beloved had other ideas, apparently.

"Is there something you want?" They stopped fidgeting. She couldn't see their face given the position, but bashfulness was an easy guess. "Ah. As expected."

"Wha—What do you mean, 'as expected?!' " The angel froze, form stiff with expectations only she could bear witness to. "I didn't even say anything!"

"You know, it's hard when I need one hand to muffle your voice," Draudillon scratched their scalp and stroked the curve of their spine. The reward was quick in coming; Yuriko's breath caught as they shuddered under her ministrations. "So don't complain, okay? Especially when you're the one initiating."

In this fleeting moment, there wasn't any prayer or word that could bring them closer to each other. Right here, right now, the world shrank to just her and the angel in a bubble of perfect, unspoken understanding. If felt boundless in the way it was small, special despite its mundanity, fragile, yet inviolable.

"Th-Tha-That's because you go too fast!" Yuriko complained but didn't move from they were lying across her lap. "It's fine back home, but the soundproofing sucks here!"

"Ah," Draudillon grimaced. She should've accounted for that. "I apologize. We should wait until we disembark then."

"If you let me take the lead, it won't be a problem," Yuriko sat up with a determined expression. Considering the context of their conversation, it was positively tickling. "I can keep it on the down low, easy."

She raised an eyebrow in amused disbelief. Did they truly believe that?

"I can!" Her beloved protested, "I definitely can! Just watch, and I'll show you."

"Mmm, we do have a couple of hours…" What was the harm? Draudillon began to undress, savoring the color dusting Yuriko's cheeks and the desire filling their eyes: this sight, laid bare for only her to see. "Well? Weren't you going to prove something?"

"Y-Yeah! I am!"

As things would turn out, the angel was a horrendous hypocrite, but neither of them could really bring themselves to care after all was said and done.

A shame about the braid though.

"Those two are shirking their responsibilities," Martin suddenly said without preamble. "I should have sent an attendant to chaperone them."

For this, he needed no clairvoyance or precognition. Simple understanding of cause and effect sufficed.

Understanding that had come too late. Now, he could only hope they would find it within themselves to spend more effort inspecting the state of the kingdom than each other.

"You still can," Amrel glanced up at him from the documents she was organizing. "Where were they heading to? Belfrig County? Angel flight doesn't cost much, but if you're worrying about waiting in a queue—"

"Her Majesty's ministers have express priority," he cut off his cousin. "That is, however, an excellent idea, Lady Asturias. You have my deepest gratitude."

"Oh, shut the hell up…" Amrel made a lip-flapping gesture with one hand. "I don't need any of your attitude this early in the morning."

He pointed at the windows from where the sunset's orange glow was passing through.

"Yeah, well. It's morning for me," she grumbled. "Do you have any idea how much crap I need to get done? Copying the Imperial Academy of Magic from scratch on top of my other assignments? I thought this whole schtick was just supposed to be a research posting, huh?"

"The Court has yet to make known their expectations regarding the nurturing of future spellcasters."

"I'm not playing those games," Amrel rolled her eyes. She had always expressed a distaste for the complexity of the kingdom's higher echelons: a disposition that had brought much grief upon her parents. "Setup's all being pushed on us, so if they've 'yet to make known their expectations,' then it sure seems like they're planning to."

He looked out the window and idly wondered what troubles he would have to address in the coming months. "Is strengthening the kingdom such a disagreeable duty to you?"

"Don't twist my words," if her tone hadn't been sharp before, it was deadly now. How droll. "I didn't have to accept this position. I didn't have to decide to leave my party—"

"Our relatives are quite relieved."

"Grah!" She threw her hands up into the air, scattering reports across the floor and tea table. "Like I care. Brownie points are for suckers."

"Many of them would be honored to receive your concern," Martin diplomatically replied.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she waved him off while she picked the papers off the ground. "Tell them that's what their wetnurses are for."

"I'm afraid I must decline."

Amrel disdainfully snorted. "I'll tell them myself then."

'Everyone involved is long past the point of caring about harsh words,' they would probably view any verbal outburst on her part as a sign of good health. "Do what you will, Lady Asturias."

"Queen Oriculus would give me a talking to if I did," she slid the reports and requests towards him. Some specifications on the material costs behind an item that materialized food. "And since you're already planning on hounding her, I'd rather avoid adding more problems."

"Her Majesty is calm and even-handed in her judgment," using other words, if the Queen became visibly upset, there were probably problems of greater importance than her being upset. "A veritable font of mercy that dispenses forgiveness to those receptive to correction."

"… Are you or are you not trying to persuade me to get into trouble?"

"Is there anything else you wanted me to be made aware of?" Martin ignored the rhetorical question in favor of perusing the petitions. Goodness, he always knew, but spellcasters commanded a hefty salary. Lady Yuriko truly spoiled them all with what was essentially free labor. "Nothing about the Magician's Guild; you'll have to exercise patience with regards to them."

"We're running short on reagents though," Amrel answered after a moment of thinking. "Or we're going to if we can't secure better sources. The Magician's Guild doesn't have the balls to price gouge us, but they're definitely not planning on cutting us a discount."

'Unless the Crown exerts pressure,' chances of that happening were miniscule. Their relationship with the guild was still valuable for the time being. Making enemies now would be a poor use of royal influence. "If I recall correctly, doesn't the Institution get first pick with regards to anything the angels bring in?"

"Yeah, that's correct," furrowed lines appeared on Amrel's forehead. "And monster parts are great and all, but there's a lot more to magic than just those. Mineral components, herbs, gold to name a few."

She tiredly chuckled. "Would be nice if Her Majesty could have some larger facilities built too. Everything feels cramped there: the labs, the storerooms, the damn offices… welp, these things take time."

"I'll keep these concerns in mind," he reassured. "But yes, it will unfortunately be some time before we can spare additional resources. To encourage the spirit of optimism—"

Amrel let slip a noise of derisive disbelief.

"—you can likely expect steady shipments of gemstones along with various other minerals starting from next month or the month after at the latest. It took Her Majesty a while to put together this arrangement."

"Better than nothing, I guess," she grumped. "Okay, I know, I know. I'll make sure to thank her. Geez…"

"Make sure to thank Lady Yuriko as well," Martin scribbled a number of reminders on his notebook. "The Beastman Country found her proposals quite persuasive."

Nothing unreasonable, because impoverishing the demihumans would be inane in view of their present subservience to Queen Oriculus. He'd be lying if he claimed popular opinion didn't find the notion tempting though.

"I bet they did," a small, tired smirk crept across her mouth. "Is she planning on doing the whole Vizier-thing while she's traveling?"

"There's people handling that particular responsibility in her stead while she's accompanying Her Majesty. That being said, they can't make final decisions on Lady Yuriko's behalf, so I can only hope the letters aren't lost along the way."

"Can't she teleport?" Amrel asked, flummoxed. "I mean—shit, being surprised over somebody not teleporting is already about as weird as you can get, but I swear I've seen her open portals before."

"Conserving mana to perform her other self-appointed tasks," he replied. "Hardly a decision I, or anyone, would fault her for. The kingdom has functioned without instantaneous transport for nigh on two centuries; it can continue well enough as is. Perhaps in the case of an urgent matter requiring immediate attention… but this isn't such a case."

"Won't argue against that reasoning," adventurers operated much along the same mindset: invest heavily into important assets, and if doing so meant other outdated equipment had to be skimmed over, then that was an acceptable opportunity cost. "Hell, even Cerabrate wouldn't, I don't think."

"Speaking of which, he's doing fine, I presume?" Martin meant to contact the old Lord Sivas—but alas. The day only had so many hours.

"Queen Oriculus has a real nasty sense of humor," he understood what Amrel was referring to, and quietly disagreed. The Queen's discomfort around Fierce Flash did not stop her from treating them with the fairness she believed they deserved. Of course, that merely made the entire situation more funny. "That woman she paired him with… they're one of those die-hard admirers. He's going to have to keep his guard up forever."

"I wish the new Count Sivas only the best then," a trivial task, seeing as the Court's sole expectation was that he perpetuate his lineage through Draconic Kingdom nobility; although, the disposition of Lady Sivas being what it was might make even that duty somewhat interesting.

"You should tell him that yourself," then as if any clarification was needed: "Because I sure don't think I could say that with a straight face."

"Should I assign you an etiquette tutor?"

"Ugh, no," Amrel rose to her feet with a grunt, showing off the years of habits the adventurer's lifestyle had ingrained into her. "Anyway, that's everything the Institution wants you to review. I'm heading out now."

"Don't hesitate to reconsider, Lady Asturias—"

The door swung shut slightly harder than necessary. Martin worried for his cousin, truly.

"Hm," he relaxed against the sofa. Speaking of tutors… "I'm sure Lady Yuriko is bemoaning the absence of lessons."

He ought to fix that.

AN: Commissioned art is backlogging faster than actual chapters, uwa. You can find them on the Ao3 version of this fic! Thank you all very much for reading.