Chapter 87: reminds me of cat vids (owo)
Lower Fire Month, 22nd Day, 600 AGG
The tea gifted by the Dragon Queen was done steeping, but her conversational partner favored fruit juice.
'Out of thin air too,' Renner watched Lady Yuriko fill their cup with a pitcher that could not have fit anywhere in that dress. 'Nonsensical. What a large world it is, truly.'
She seldom viewed others as belonging to a 'lower' classification—separate encapsulated her perspective more accurately—although bluntly rejecting a show of goodwill because they couldn't curb an excessive desire for sweets…
There existed conventions that ought to be followed should one wish to be considered human.
Then again, an angel wasn't a human, no matter how convincing the form. At least they stopped bemoaning being held accountable for their failings by Queen Oriculus.
"And then you two dived into the thick of the city?" Renner made sure to widen her eyes just the slightest bit more. "Were the beastmen actually…?"
"Yeah," the angel, noticeably one despite wings and halo retracted, slumped. "I dunno what the other countries imagined, but it'll be tough topping what the beastmen had going on."
Turnabout was fair play, and the beastmen happened to sit on the receiving end, Renner mused—the unnatural number of magic items ranging from scry wards to temperature regulation were probably reappropriated from the beastmen or based off their designs.
"Goodness," mouth covered, face pale, the Princess was sure she was showing the appropriate amount of shock. "That's terrible!"
"Mn."
Renner mused, pondering whether she preferred Lady Yuriko possessed by an annoying cheer or afflicted with an absurdly contrasting grimness. Both were irksome in their own nerve-grating ways. "I'm sorry for broaching the subject; it was terribly insensitive of me."
The offputting energy had nearly caught her flat-footed when she had first accosted them, and it only grew more irritating from there. But was this bad?
"It's fine," they emptied another glass of juice—fruit juice—before perking up. "We got all the humanoids out, and Drau said we're talking with the beastmen about releasing the rest of their slaves! Um, apparently there's a lot of problems like finding jobs, housing, dealing with labor shortages… it's complicated."
No, somebody who believed the best in others—man-eating beastmen included—and driven by a desire to aid their lessers through the most inefficient, inane methods was somebody who valued concepts like reciprocation. A trait many others were noticing, otherwise why else would mercenary folks of Unglaus and Rockbruise's ilk bother coming?
Just by lending an ear and giving a few sympathetic platitudes here and there, she could reap the benefits that came with being known as the friend of those wielding real power. Blue Roses played their part fantastically, but adding an airheaded Goddess to the list certainly couldn't hurt.
"Ehhh~ The Draconic Kingdom's having problems with the beastmen in a different way, but I'm sure everything will turn out fine!"
There was the risk of instability; although, would an unstable person really bother lending extensive support to an impoverished kingdom torn by war? 'Who knows? Some unfathomable goal centuries in the making? A flight of whimsy? Ultimately, it'll take an immortal to understand an immortal.'
"Well, everybody's working super hard to keep things running," the angel praised the Royal Court, the countless millions who toiled away to eke out a living—and the Dragon Queen as well, surely. "It's really neat seeing Drau's plans all sorta unfold in person, and um, I've been blabbing about myself this whole time…"
They awkwardly chuckled and glanced towards Renner. A cue that the conversation had bounced to her.
"Oh, I don't have any stories nearly as harrowing—"
"That's alright! Means you've been safe and living peacefully," Lady Yuriko nodded to themselves. "I guess there's the stuff between Baharuth and Re-Estize—uh, your dad's not coming? Heard people mention something about 'private affairs.' "
'Father's fretting over dear Barbro in the absence of his daughter, isn't he?' In the few weeks she'd been dutifully playing the role of a political hostage, King Ramposa had already sent a veritable tome of letters. 'Emperor El-Nix wouldn't be pleased with a loose mouth—at least for the time being.'
"Eldest brother is recovering from h-his…" A lonesome tear slipped free. "I, I'm so sorry, it's—difficult."
"Nononono! I should be the one apologizing!" Lady Yuriko rushed to reassure her. "Y'know, if it's healing he needs, maybe an angel might be useful o-or something."
The maids of Valencia Palace were trickier to manipulate despite the astounding depths of their arrogance.
"Lady Yuriko's offer is appreciated, but brother is suffering from," Renner swallowed a nonexistent lump and lowered her head. "From resurrection sickness. I fear only time can cure this malady."
"Level loss," The angel chewed their bottom lip. 'Level loss?' She'd heard Lakyus and her friends mention 'Levels' in conjunction with 'up' but never 'loss.' "I didn't know he…"
They timidly trailed off. Renner sniffed and directed a bright grin towards them. "Thank you, truly. Ever since I had to leave home for the Empire, it's been hard finding anybody to share my troubles with, so the opportunity to talk openly was wonderful."
She fidgeted, just barely as if her upbringing was the sole factor constraining her eagerness. "Do you think maybe… that maybe we could be friends, of a sort?"
Initially, in the early days of the angel's arrival, she'd wondered if the heavenly descent wasn't some sign of a great upheaval. There was the fear that all her efforts would come to nothing: wiped away as trivially meaningless.
Then Renner arrived in the Draconic Kingdom under the auspices of the Bloody Emperor, ironic considering his relationship with Queen Oriculus, and came to a startling conclusion:
'She really is just simple-minded.'
'Dopey,' 'clumsy'—descriptors for the tongues of the openly sacrilegious and the minds of the warily inquisitive. Details aside, Renner was determined to not let this stroke of good fortune go to waste.
"Heh," Lady Yuriko crossed their arms and puffed their chest out. "Aren't we already friends?"
'For some reason, doesn't it seem like she was waiting to say that?' A simple mind didn't preclude eccentricity, the Princess supposed. "In that case, I hope we'll continue to get along!"
"Mhm!" They simultaneously turned towards the knocking at the door. "Oof, looks like one of us is about to be busy."
'It is about the hour for lunch. Not quite though,' Renner poured out another cup of tea. "It's probably for you, Lady Yuriko."
"Erm… since we're friends, I think it's fine to just call me Yuriko," the angel forgot the knocking for a moment—until it repeated, slower but somehow more 'annoyed.' "I should answer that."
"That might be for the best, Yuriko," someone who had the 'audacity' to pester the Lady of Wings: the list of potential visitors wasn't large.
Lady Yuriko rose to their feet and waved for the Gatekeeper to open the door, revealing the royal identity of their guest. "Drau! Is everything okay?"
'Hearsay rings true yet again,' as some rumors stated, the Draconic Kingdom's prime royal had tossed aside her previous childish, literally childlike, form. 'It's quite jarring to see somebody who appeared younger than two-and-ten years just a few years ago suddenly become a woman full-grown.'
Queen Oriculus's ability to alter her physical form must be related to the purported inheritance of a draconic legacy. She knew of no tier magic within the reach of even accoladed spellcasters that could illude as perfectly as the Dragon Queen's fabled arcana.
"Has something occurred giving you reason to believe otherwise? No, I'm just here to drag you away for lunch," Queen Oriculus's gaze flicked towards her. "Unless you're preoccupied at the moment, dear. Apologies for the intrusion, Princess Renner."
'The manner by which they address each other is awfully comfortable… well, at least they won't be eyeing Climb,' she rose to her feet and gracefully dipped into a curtesy. "Your Majesty needn't apologize. Lady Yuriko was kindly humoring my request for company."
"W-We were just chatting," 'Cowed' wasn't the image she had in mind when it came to the Lady of Wings. Another aspect of their strangeness then? Some bizarre roleplay Queen Oriculus had to participate in to ensure the Draconic Kingdom's security? "Um, sorry Renner, but I gotta get going…"
"It's okay!" The Princess beamed. "I wouldn't want to keep either of you waiting."
"Mm, see you around," Lady Yuriko waved farewell, or 'see you later,' and followed the Dragon Queen out the room. The Gatekeeper assigned to her remained eerily still in the corner of the apartment: listening and watching where its master could not.
"Fuu…"
'Sources do say they have that type of relationship,' she thought the Dragon Queen a tad odd to partake so eagerly, what with the inherent issues that arose from being a mortal ruler of a kingdom that took lineage seriously, but refusing the angel's advances would be far sillier. 'Ah well, no point in rushing to form a conclusion.'
Love, was it?
She knew better than anybody that love was an incredibly self-satisfying feeling. An all-consuming sentiment that even she appreciated and understood.
The desire to own somebody: heart, body, and soul. Leashed and chained with ropes stronger than the masterpiece of any forge.
Did the angel burn with a similar flame? Did they shiver with how cold their blood ran in the absence of their prized possession?
Renner felt a flash of envy. How much easier would life be when one had the power to scorn the world as they pleased? Rules, sentiment, common-sense all held upon a fingertip—fragile and ready to scatter with but a half-breath.
An imbalance that put every other injustice to shame, a limitless well of strength mocking legendary heroes and their bloodlines, a talent laughing at talents and Talents both.
She softly plopped back onto the armchair. Useless what-ifs like these usually never bothered her to this extent.
'Climb… Oh, Climb… Your Princess grows weary of waiting.'
"Boooo!" Mira shouted from the side as Brain Unglaus knocked Vicente to the ground. "You suck!"
"Thank you for the pointers, Sir Unglaus," her buddy ignored her, choosing instead to accept the blue-haired knight's hand. "Another round?"
'Whatever,' she huffed and stuffed another puff pastry into her mouth. 'What's so great about Unglaus anyway? If you want to fight something strong, then just ask an angel…'
And because Brain along with that blonde kid were important guests—or well, guards of important-er guests who happened to be important too, ugh—she had to accompany them wherever they wandered.
"Eh, why not?" Unglaus cracked his neck and lazily brandished the sword. Though it was but a mere wooden training tool, the action exuded a deadly intent nonetheless. Wait, why was he smirking at her? "Although I have to wonder; is it okay for the Dragon Queen's chosen to act so relaxed?"
This bastard—!
"Don't mind Calventa. She's an exceptional individual."
Mira swore she was going to lace that traitor's undergarments with Falgrian Pepper powder the second Queen Oriculus took her off double-shift. Which wasn't seeming to be anytime soon.
"Really now," Vicente's arms strained to withstand the Imperial Knight's lackluster strike. For a Royal Guard to be so thoroughly outclassed… the Emperor sure found himself another monster. "Can't say I don't understand!"
'As if the Tri-Arts Caster wasn't enough.'
She watched the two swordsmen continue to exchange blows, growing more bored the emptier her bag of pastries grew, but alas, the duties of a guardian were rarely interesting. 'Vicente seems to be having fun. Probably would start blabbing about how 'profound' and 'masterful' Unglaus's attacks are if I asked him.'
It felt like her buddy was getting stolen from out under her feet. By some random second-place no-name who suddenly became an Imperial Knight, no less… huh? Maybe she'd be star-struck too had she pursued the art of bladecraft.
"Lady Calventa—" The blonde boy, Climb, if she recalled correctly, finally worked up the nerve to approach her.
"You can drop the 'Lady,' " Mira politely offered a pastry from the dwindling bag, and was politely turned down. Meh, more for her. "I'm a street rat through and through—name's Mira in case you didn't know. You're the kid who's been hanging around the Golden Princess, right?"
"Her Highness's bodyguard," sheesh, Guard Captain Agustin wasn't this serious. From the look in Climb's eyes to the stiffness in how his shoulders were set, every scrap of the boy screamed 'serious.' "Forgive me for not accepting your gift, Lady Calventa." Ah, duh. There was no way this type of person would accept being casual with the Royal Guard of a foreign kingdom. "But allow me to express my sincerest thanks nonetheless."
'Did the Princess tell him to make friends or something? Should've told him to smile too…' The popular perception of Princess Renner aligned pretty well with how she appeared in real life. Tiny, beautiful slip of a girl with nothing bouncing inside that pretty head of hers. 'Kind of cute, actually, worrying over her bodyguard's social life—'
"Ohohoho~" Climb didn't so much as twitch at her unprompted laughter. "I see how it is~"
"Lady Mira," at least he was using her first name? Being called 'Lady' was blurgh; to this day, she had no idea how Yuriko tolerated it with the patience they did. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Young boy!" Mira put on a pretentious, know-it-all, air—one her friends and royal charge were intimately familiar with. "Let this big sister give you some advice!"
"I… what?"
"You're probably intimidated," she rubbed her flexed bicep. "Just remember: guts!"
"G-Guts?" The boy blinked.
In that moment, Mira felt a deep sense of kinship. Both of them were chasing somebody who probably wouldn't ever reciprocate their advances, but even so! "Young boy, I'll be rooting for you."
It'd be nice if at least one of them achieved an unrealistic dream.
"Right. Thank you, Lady Mira," Climb awkwardly looked at the pair of gloved hands placed atop his shoulders. The guardmage heard a mumble of 'Gagaran,' whatever that meant. "I was um, I wanted to ask if you had any stories about the Lady of Wings. The other Royal Guards mentioned you spent the most time around her, but I apologize if it's inappropriate to speak about."
'Yuriko… you homewrecker…'
"That kind of resolve… it's no good!"
"It's no good?!" Caught up in her energy, Climb inadvertently let out a yelp.
Mira shook her head in disappointment. "It's not. Zero. Zilch. No good at all!"
"Lady Mira," he cautiously removed the hands still on his shoulders. "What do you mean by resolve? "
"You're a man aren't you?" The smacking of stupid wooden sticks stopped. "No, you're a living, breathing human being, right?!"
"Y-Yes!" His back somehow straightened further, a sight that might've shocked her if she hadn't already beheld countless unbelievable scenes. "But I still don't know—"
"You're a knight!" The palm was met with a fist, like a hammer to the anvil. "A knight with oaths!"
"I wouldn't dare call myself—"
"It doesn't matter," Mira cut him off. "What's important is that you shouldn't be getting so caught up in other people's business! What if the Princess gets worried?"
"I sincerely apologize!" Climb bowed his head in repentance. "Lady Mira's advice won't be forgotten!"
She gave a thumbs-up of approval. There was the sensation of something being lost in subtext, but Climb seemed like he got the general gist. "That's the spirit. Keep at it and good things will definitely come your way."
That part was a lie; who knew what the future had in store? 'It'll be nice if that were the case though.'
"Don't bother him, Mira," Vicente wiped off the sweat of his brow with a towel as he and Unglaus approached the two sitting on the grass. "Her Majesty won't go easy on you if the worst happens."
"Please excuse Lady Mira, Sir Alden," the young blond rose to his feet, eyes tightly shut by guilt. "She only wished to correct my lacking resolve. "
"What were they blabbing about?" Unglaus side-eyed Vicente, not a drop of perspiration in sight compared to the drenched Royal Guard. "If it's resolve, the kid's got it in spades."
"I don't deserve such praise, Sir Unglaus. Coming to the Draconic Kingdom and seeing the people here—my efforts are lacking. Lady Mira helped me realize that."
"Oi, Climb." A calloused hand ran through messy strands of dyed blue. "There's… how do I say this… sometimes, you gotta watch out for 'interesting' people."
What was that supposed to mean?!
"The older you get, the more advice you'll hear," Unglaus went on, unconcerned with the scowl pointed at him. "Take it from me, kid: you're doing a damn fine job. Don't let yourself be swayed so easily."
"Hmph, as expected," of course the Imperial Knight would be jealous and try to sabotage the boy. "You heard him, Climb: don't let yourself be swayed so easily—"
"Sir Unglaus," Vicente interrupted her. "Would you care to regale us with some stories? Everyone's heard of your impressive showing against the late Gazef Stronoff, but everything afterwards has been speculated on to no end."
"Can we not—"
"Your pilgrimage to the south, Sir Unglaus?" Mira clamped her mouth shut after the second interruption from an excited Climb. Getting a word in edgewise was seeming unlikelier by the second. "Where you laid claim to that strange sword the kingdom saw in the tournament?"
Vicente jumped in with his own question. "Seeking worthy opponents must have taken you to a few places."
"Here and there," the Imperial Knight replied noncommittally. "Argland's not a bad spot either, but I recently heard they've been cracking down harder on international travel. Eh, not like the regions south of the Theocracy are any easier to visit."
'Wonder what's going on,' the last reply she had received from her benefactor was already a few weeks old. He usually never took this long—not even when Yuriko caused a big stir in the Beastman Country—so Mira was understandably worried. That guy was hopelessly absentminded to the point where unwittingly stepping into the middle of an active battlefield wasn't impossible. "Sword's from waaay south of Evasha, I'm guessing."
"The katana? Yeah, picked it up from there," she couldn't say she knew the swordsman very well, but the nostalgia was clear for everyone to catch. "Emperor El-Nix had some items custom forged, although…
"Just can't see myself giving up on this one," Unglaus's mouth cracked into the smallest hint of a wry grin as he thumbed the hilt of the curved, foreign weapon. "Promised myself I'd use it for round two—anyway, an eye-opening trip, even though I kinda wasted it in more than a few ways. Everybody should get a chance to travel at least once in their life."
"That's why you're here, right Sir Unglaus?" The boy's eyes sparkled with a gleam only found in those who believed in a world of heroes, where evil was stalwartly met with righteousness, and sacrifice meaningful. "To make good on your rivalry with the Warrior-Captain."
" 'Rivalry,' " the man's grin turned brittle. "Wonder if he ever thought about me at all after taking his spot next to King Ramposa."
'Whew,' Mira involuntarily twitched. 'That explains a lot.'
"Remember or not, I won't let Gazef off the hook so easily. Though, ahem, that is up to the Lady of Wings' discretion."
"Not a problem," she unhesitatingly replied. Here was her chance to do something useful, chances Queen Oriculus's guards found to be growing rarer with each additional angel added to the heavenly flock. "This Royal Guard has heard your plight—and will not rest until justice prevails!"
"Uh," Unglaus slowly removed his arms from her grip. "Appreciated. I think I can make a petition by myself though."
"As human beings, we're stronger standing side by side," Mira brushed the grass off her knees. "Agreed?"
"Sure, but this and that aren't the same."
"Young boy!"
"Yes!" Climb snapped to attention, no startled stuttering like before. Vicente groaned and received a commiserating pat from the blue-haired swordsman.
"In this world, there are two types of people," she stuck out two fingers. "One group has insight—which includes you and me."
The other included Queen Oriculus and Yuriko, but saying that out loud in front of Vicente was begging for trouble.
"Then you have people like Sir Unglaus here who can only think about 'swords' all day, every day. Without 'us,' 'they' would be totally helpless. Climb, Sir Unglaus and Stronoff need every scrap of support they can get!"
"Is that so…" Climb's eyes shined with a strangely determined light. "I didn't know Sir Unglaus and the Warrior-Captain shared such a heavy relationship."
"… don't look at me like that. It's unpleasant."
"Sir Unglaus!" Mira pounded her chest with a knowing smile. "You can rely on me."
"No, it's fine. Rather, I'd be grateful if you do nothing, so please don't go out of your—oi! This woman!"
Hadn't she been encountering cases of unconventional love extremely often nowadays? For Unglaus to be this embarrassed reflected poorly on the people of Re-Estize, so naturally, the momentous task fell unto her.
And Mira had plenty of expertise in these matters. In fact, saying her success rate sat at an awe-inspiring one-hundred percent wouldn't be wrong!
"Stop! Seriously, stop! One of you go left!"
"Geez," the guardmage solemnly frowned, dashing through a colonnade and into a hidden corridor while patronizingly shaking her head. "I should be getting paid for this."
Food was decidedly tastier in the presence of pleasant company.
Draudillon sagely nodded along to the spontaneous realization. Not being persistently troubled by the Draconic Kingdom's imminent collapse played a large part in improving the flavor of her meals too.
And furthermore, food was tastier when she had an elite platoon of veteran culinarians at her beck and call.
Yet an ungrateful inner voice wished the lunch was a tad less refined—more messy and 'homely' so to speak.
"I wonder what they marinated this in," Yuriko's fork poked a slice of chicken. "The castle cooks are always super duper busy, so it feels bad bothering them with dumb questions."
"… Please eat on the table."
"Oops," lissome legs, bared in the fullness of their alabaster sublimity, inelegantly threw themselves off the dragon queen's thighs. "Sorry."
"It's okay. As for the previous concern, you could ask to borrow one of their recipe books and copy it with the magic item the Royal Institution of Magic presented a few days ago."
"Um, the Docucopier?" Yuriko scratched their cheek. "Why not an original from the Beastman Country?"
"It'll be ideal to perform some stress-testing, wouldn't you agree?" Draudillon paused, taking a moment to chew and swallow a bite of leafy greens. "Constantly relying on the Beastman Country's advancements will cripple the kingdom's growth, even if they're currently a client state. Developing our own industries is crucial if we want to be prepared to face the world at large."
"There's problems with even more countries?" The angel nudged their vegetables to the side. A lack of appetite? "Like the groups we're inviting to Oriculo?"
"First, no: relations with our immediate and distant neighbors are calm," the Holy Kingdom, Theocracy, Argland, Re-Estize were still en-route, while the Scalewing Confederacy had declined the invitation as expected. None of those five and the two present were on bad terms with the Draconic Kingdom. "Secondly, there's a vast world outside this tiny corner we live in—nations whose intentions might not always be friendly."
For that reason, she believed the sooner the kingdom could kick off the public projects she had in mind, the better. Training craftsmen tied to the Crown first and foremost, gathering squandered talents across the countryside, improving infrastructure… all those plans required money which was currently being spent on repairing the damage dealt by the beastmen. In addition, the festival's expenses were unsurprisingly high.
Draudillon didn't want to entertain the notion that Yuriko might not be here if they hadn't chosen to wait for a game's end-of-life. Without them, recovery would've taken decades. Longer.
Without them, she would've never understood how much a single person's mere presence could fill her with boundless vigor. Just because they were here—Tenth-Tier, Super-Tier, summons notwithstanding—Draudillon was strong.
Like she implied to Jircniv earlier this morning, her partner's true value didn't lie in what they received from some product of virtual escapism.
"Drau, what's this?" The dragon queen dragged her gaze to the thin pile of parchment Yuriko had picked off the messy table. "Looks weird for a letter."
"A commencement speech," Draudillon squinted at a particularly trite turn of phrase. She'd have to scratch that one out later. "Our people will be expecting a few words from their queen after all."
"Oh. Should I write one too?"
Her gaze flicked to Yuriko's untouched food. "Not if you don't want to."
"Maybe not then!" The giggle was forced, so she forced herself to smile along. "Being in front of the Royal Court was tough; I can't imagine giving a speech to a whole crowd."
"You'll get there one day," Draudillon's grin dropped into a frown. First-hand experience had taught her the pain of letting problems fester unchecked. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"
"You're not angry?" Yuriko's fork nervously dragged their leftovers around the white plate. "Because y'know, the Dragon Lord and stuff…"
"There's nothing for me to be upset about; black dragons may be vindictive schemers, but they're no fools. The warning you gave to Mirewood Dragon Lord ought to serve as a sufficient deterrent," Draudillon put the plate and parchment aside before taking their hands into hers. "Has this been bothering you since yesterday?"
"Well, it's more like, I'm just wondering if sparing them was okay…"
"The reputations of black dragons are not for show," she slowly began. "On that note, I find it admirable that you were willing to extend a second chance to even Urnsithilix."
"But?"
"But remember: mercy is the domain of the strong," the warning was framed in the gentlest tone she could muster. "Never overestimate your abilities."
Yuriko didn't respond, though the contemplative furrow in their brow showed they were at least taking the statement to heart.
The dragon queen sighed and stood up. "Shall we put the food away? Ah, and you remember Amrel saying she'll deliver another batch of ice cream tomorrow, yes?"
Draudillon didn't know for certain whether the distraction worked, but were she to consider the mouth pressed over hers, she'd have to say it probably did.
On her too, admittedly.
"You know," the dragon queen mumbled as Yuriko's face leaned into the caress. "Sometimes I wonder what it'll be like to walk in your shoes."
Bearing your burdens, seeing the world in the same alien way you surely do. 'All things that'll come with time.'
Draudillon flinched as gauntleted hands lifted her by the armpits from behind. "What the—"
"Now you're taller than me, Drau!" Yuriko closed her eyes and puckered her lips. "Kiss~ kiss~"
The dragon queen scowled at the unaware angel and silently decided she was not going to let this slide.
"Drau, I'm waiting—oomf!"
Yuriko squeaked, cutely enough that Draudillon almost regretted denying them as she flicked them on the forehead. "Put me down."
The holy-clad Cherubim obliged and carefully set her feet upon the floor. She grabbed her comically doleful partner by the shoulders, staring at—appreciating the flecks of light flashing in their irises.
"Yuriko Hanami," the angel's mouth was still turned downwards in a small pout. "Don't grab me so suddenly next time."
"Okay, but what if it's an emergency?"
"Emergencies are fine," Draudillon pecked her beloved on the mouth and took in their mopey countenance. "Forgive me; was my reaction excessive?"
"If you feel bad, then gimme more kisses…"
"Mmm…"
They pushed—she shoved harder—and ended up on the bed, sitting rather than the entangled knot this set of circumstances would typically seem them in. Then they removed themselves from the other, taking a few seconds to readjust into a position that saw the angel behind her.
Yuriko's chest was pressed flush against her back without any gaps. "You're warm."
"I certainly hope so."
The pregnant pause hung in the air, uncharacteristically long. Silence usually meant the two were distracted with their respective tasks or a nonverbal 'communication,' and the absence of both indicated something was amiss.
"Yuriko?" Draudillon rubbed the angel's clasped digits. "Feeling guilty about the dragon again?"
"Not that," her beloved murmured as they delicately raised her hand to meet glistening lips. "It's not that."
Kisses trailed from her fingers to arm, cresting a shoulder to climb the tower that was the neck. Fervent shades of pink and vermillion scaled that too, leaving marks of their damp ascent: creating and deepening proofs of passion that filled Draudillon with a heady sensation.
Hour-like minutes, witnessed as such by the clock, saw the angel circle back to the front and administer their affections with equal attention.
'Sh-She's rather bold today,' Draudillon felt her chest tighten as Yuriko's mouth reached her stomach through the sleeveless black one-piece dress. "Dear, tell me if something's the ma—mmph."
Stress and tension melted away. Worries about the foreign delegates, whether the kingdom's preparations were sufficient to avoid international embarrassment, if some random catastrophe was about to strike—everything seemed distant in the embrace of her beloved.
Yuriko eventually pulled back, then swayed forward, and gingerly nuzzled Draudillon's neck.
"Talking with strangers is hard," the angel mumbled. "It's one thing if it's not a big deal, but all these people are big-shots."
"Weren't you chatting quite easily with Princess Renner?" she patted Yuriko's head. "I'm proud of you, Yuriko."
"… wasn't much. She was super nice. Dragged me away when she saw me having trouble with other people."
"You've been pushing yourself incredibly hard ever since Mohajar. Denigrating your own efforts is unnecessary even in light of the Princess's aid."
Yuriko tightened their hold. "Drau."
"Yes, yes, I am she."
"I did a good job."
"Mhm."
"I'm gonna have to meet more important people."
"If you so choose."
"I am."
"Then I suppose you will."
The angel dropped their arms to the side and looked her in the eyes. "And I won't make a mess!"
"This dragon queen is putting her faith in you then," Draudillon's gaze turned inquisitive. "What are you doing?"
"I can't?" Yuriko halted, head centimeters above her lap. "O-Oh, I should've asked first."
"You have my permission," she nudged their head the rest of the way down. "I was merely curious, but it turned out to be fairly innocent. Shockingly."
Even people who were denied the blessing of sleep needed to rest. Especially Yuriko, honestly.
"Uwaaa, it's so soft…"
'Satisfied with so little,' Draudillon scratched the angel's scalp. 'She's always been this way.'
Truthfully speaking, it wasn't the best time to be idling around considering the number of important representatives she had yet to meet in person. There were agreements to be discussed, contracts that needed drafting, and gifts requiring tortuous deliberation to avoid accidentally offending some overinflated ego.
But when she stared at the angel's peaceful, content smile…
She couldn't help thinking a bit of rest wouldn't hurt.
AN: LAP PILLOW!
On another note, I've commissioned art of a Cherubim Gatekeeper (Yes, this is before the manga came out with the official depiction, so please don't point that out uwaaa) from Red_kd87 over at Twitter! You can find this art + a character sheet at the Ao3 posting of this story!
Thank you for reading!
