Chapter 88: now kiss (or not, i guess)
Lower Fire Month, 22nd-23rd Day, 600 AGG
Bells tolled, announcing yet another ship's departure.
Lydia angrily grumped as the fishies swam away, scared by the ripples left in the merchant barge's wake. Orange rays of setting sunlight refracted off the water and soaked into the bustling dockside: a beautiful riverscape that did nothing to improve her mood.
Stupid boats. Stupid Dad and Aunty—Mom soon—Cornelia.
Stupid big sister.
The blonde child scythed a glare at the Principality Observation. The Principality observed, unaware of her blooming frustration.
'It's stupid—doesn't know anything!' Couldn't talk, had no face, and was creepily still. People moved, twitched, involuntarily fidgeted. Angels didn't. 'Everyone at the temple never wants to talk to me… just about the angel.'
And big sister never visited even though she promised she would.
Adults were liars. Dad lied when he said he wasn't having problems with Mom. Mom lied about coming home soon. The temple priests lied when they said big sister was scary and would beat you up if you didn't show her respect.
Big sister wasn't scary. She was just a liar.
Mira got 'reassigned,' Leinas had to return to the Empire, Dad and his friends had to help with the festival.
Lydia was alone, and going to temple lessons sucked because all the other kids and grown-ups only cared about big sister and why they were at her house and why she got an angel looking after her when she was a heretic from Slane. The temples dedicated to the Six had apparently moved out of Oriculo after big sister beat up the beastmen.
Sometimes, the little girl wanted to go back home, but she knew there wasn't much to go back to: lacking as her cognition was.
"Stupid," Lydia attempted to hit a fish that hadn't fled the ships with a thrown stone, but her poor aim only served to prompt its retreat. "Stupid, stooo-pid."
"I hope that wasn't addressed to me," a familiar voice filled with dry amusement came from behind.
She wasn't worried; the Principality remained motionless. Nobody in Oriculo was dumb enough to assault another when the angels had their eyes everywhere. "Oh. Hi, Leinas."
"You could stand to be a little happier during this time of festivities," the words carried no trace of anger, no annoyance at the lack of acquiescence. "Anyway, my apologies for taking so long to return; I've come across… a new line of work so to speak."
Leinas's free hand absentmindedly fidgeted with the collar of her blouse before she shook her head in mild bemusement. "Ah, would you like one?"
Lydia looked up at the buttery roll being proffered. She accepted, biting into and savoring the fluffy cream-stuffed pastry. " 'fanks."
"You're welcome. Upset?" The ex-Imperial Knight brushed down the back of their green breeches before sitting next to her atop the wooden pier, ignoring the curious peeks of the dockworkers being directed towards her. Set to the side was a wicker basket filled with more rolls and a bottle of probably-wine. "It must be troubling, for your father to neglect you during such a hectic season."
There was an undertone of—an emotion Lydia didn't know how to describe.
"Dad's busy 'cause of the festival," she ignored how Leinas's smile warned of violence: more snarl than grin. "Says Queen Oriculus gave him a job: organizing or, I dunno."
"I assume Priestess Varenne is otherwise occupied as well?" The question caused her gut to clench. "She works quite closely with Silas if I recall correctly."
Lydia didn't know how to feel about Aunty. The priestess was kind in her own strict manner, but the child hated being nagged to go attend the temple's lessons. Whenever Aunty had the spare energy to anyhow; she along with Dad were really busy.
"Gonna be my new Mom," Lydia tried to kick another pebble into the river, only for the speck to skip to the right. Darn. "Dad said so."
Asked, if the child were being honest, but how was she supposed to say 'no' to that question? How, when she barely understood anything except that Dad's smile looked a little bit more real? Even if Aunty got mad whenever she skipped temple lessons, whenever she got caught outside past curfew, refusal was impossible.
Faced with that weight, the mere notion of saying 'no' made her queasy with self-loathing. Even children could understand—and appreciate—sacrifice.
The ex-Imperial Knight momentarily froze, mild surprise suffusing their features. "Is that so? I suppose congratulations are in order."
Lydia scratched her knee. Was it surprising? She thought it was obvious with how they talked to each other, and, and well, everything. 'Adults are weird.'
That included Leinas too. For somebody who used to stand above the masses as a member of the Four Imperial Knights, something was missing. 'Knightliness?' Exactly what, she couldn't figure out.
And then there was how the raw rage and melancholy that used to burn and writhe in Leinas's visible eye had faded. Well, she thought they still seemed a little sad and more than a little angry, but it felt tempered. Subdued, in a way. As if they'd arrived at some sort of acceptance kids like her weren't supposed to understand.
Leinas's back hunched over, forehead furrowed in thought. "I'll have to find gifts for that too it seems."
"It's okay," she kicked her feet to and fro, barely skimming the surface of the Ordelia despite it being high tide. "Theocracy priests not supposed to get gifts."
Temples back home always said so, but hadn't Dad and her been accepting a lot of presents from Queen Oriculus and big sister?
Uncomfortable lumps settled in Lydia's chest; maybe she was a heretic.
"Former Theocracy priests now," Her companion mussed her hair. "Thus, sin it is not."
"I guess," Lydia still didn't look up. Tired. A little annoyed even though she knew it was wrong. Leinas did nothing to deserve contempt.
"What do you say we pay a visit to the castle?" Powerful limbs hidden under silky sleeves pushed the woman to her feet. "It turns out I have some business to discuss with the Prime Minister. Perhaps we'll catch your father in the process."
"And big sister!" She blurted out, because that's where the angel lived, right? High above in the castle that rivaled the Great Temple of Water, Tinu Al Rianes, in size. Couldn't kissy-kiss with Queen Oriculus if they lived far apart.
" 'Big sister?' " Leinas's brows knitted together in confusion. Lydia fought the urge to throw a stomping tantrum on the spot; why was it so hard for grown-ups to understand? "Are you referring to Mira by any chance?"
"No!" Irked blue met bewildered green. "The angel!"
"Eh, calling her 'big sister' is a tad…? Well, I suppose she is likely to be there too," the ex-Imperial Knight's tongue darted out, wetting their tongue before retreating. Were they hiding something? "Lady Yuriko might not have the time to see us, but checking can't hurt."
"Hm!" Lydia stood up and brushed the specks of grime off her skirt. "Um Leinas? There's only one angel—"
"Walking is fine."
The child frowned. Oriculo was a big city and going on foot meant a lengthy walk. "But that'll take an hour—"
"Walking is fine."
'A shame only a single citizen of the kingdom can open portals,' Martin's bones ached from the harrowing hours-long flight the Gatekeeper had put him through. A shame that repeated exposure didn't build resistance. 'Could she be considered a citizen? Well, legal minutiae is moot at this stage.'
He grabbed the drifting thought-stuff of his fatigued mind and forced it into a shape capable of exercising the focus demanded for a kingdom's Prime Minister. For now, a meeting—another meeting.
On the bright side, it was with a human: one Lady Rockbruise. Elevated from disowned noblewoman to Imperial Knight, knocked down, then set in a high place again thanks to several quirks of fate.
Maybe dealing with the beastmen was better after all. Leading an amateur ambassador around by the nose pleased his sensibilities, but when said amateur also claimed a bond of beneficiary and benefactor with the angel… things became messy. Varush and his aides were compliant, and most importantly, competent.
'Unfair of me to complain,' the clock was ticking towards midnight. Who knew how long he'd kept the newly instated Imperial Ambassador waiting? 'There's the… pre-meeting documents regarding the Holy Kingdom. I'll ask Fernde to compile those; the administrator should have learned enough to handle this matter by himself. It's a good opportunity to import Lanca Cattle instead of merely their leather.'
Martin threaded through the network of hallways built within Oriculia Castle, greeting the attendants and other members of Queen Oriculus's household with quick nods. Festooned upon the walls were uniform, repeating garlands of flowers and leaves kept fresh with beastmen thaumaturgy—alongside hung banners and a deep cleaning made possible through magic.
Admittedly, it wasn't shabby for what was essentially a rush-job. Admittedly, he couldn't quite remember how 'properly done' decorations were supposed to appear.
'Unfortunate,' perhaps commanding an angel to fly him to his office would have been wiser. Less time wasted, less effort expended trying to force his legs to move. 'Wasteful? We do have a surplus, however small it might be. Distribution needs to be optimized; an excess stationed in one area just renders the bulk of them useless.'
Seraph Empyreans, Cherubim Gatekeepers, and a whole host of bafflingly powerful higher-angels included. Martin just didn't quite know what else they were good for when their lessers performed combat duties equally as well.
When squashing an ant, there wasn't much of a difference between using a boulder or a mountain.
"Replacement for sailboats?" The stray musing slipped out. Absurd to think they now had nation-destroying summons aplenty to the point where he was seriously considering that. Fortune was truly a fickle mistress.
'The doors are open?' Alongside the lights—on, not open, but the point was made. The number of people who had permission to use his office without prior acknowledgement could be counted on one hand. 'Her Majesty should know I have a meeting slated for… now.'
Martin sighed deeply, straightening spine and shoulders as he prepared to walk headfirst into certain chaos.
Two steps past the threshold and his feet faltered. He had been expecting something more appropriate than Lady Yuriko hugging a—
"Brain, wh-what… no. Where am I?"
—brawny, southern-toned man haphazardly covered in towels and boasting a physique that would have masters of sculpting slobbering over themselves to have him as a model.
'Why. Why is the Warrior-Captain here.'
"The Draconic Kingdom," Lady Yuriko hadn't noticed his arrival. He blinked and surveyed the other residents clogging up his office; was there a need for so many to spectate… whatever this was? "Everything's okay now. You must've been through a lot."
"… Excuse my rudeness, but have we met before, Lady—"
"Yuriko," the angel released her hold and looked upon the hero of Re-Estize with compassionate sympathy. "We haven't met. And um, apparently a bunch of Empire Knights killed you. Uh, that's what happened, right Renner?"
"Hm, well… it's hard to say for certain, but that's what most believe, Yuriko," and when had the Golden Princess gotten so close with—actually, that was the least baffling development. Those two becoming friends was an inevitability. "On behalf of my father, King Ramposa, third of his name, I apologize for how Re-Estize has failed you, Warrior-Captain."
"Princess Renner?" Stronoff rubbed his eyes in disbelief. "Why are you—Draconic Kingdom—I just…" Martin found himself empathizing with the recently un-deceased warrior. "Please don't apologize, Your Highness; I ought to be the one expressing my regrets for failing to protect the kingdom."
Princess Renner kindly smiled. "I'm sure you have plenty of questions, Captain Stronoff. I'll be happy to cover everything with you at a later date."
'And the Empire is here as well, with the Princess a part of their delegation,' he wanted to laugh at how exhaustingly ridiculous this night was turning out. 'Complicating' foreign affairs was barely scratching the surface. 'Work begets work.'
"Your Majesty. Did a missive get lost somewhere?" Martin rubbed his forehead as he went to stand beside the queen before murmuring into her ear. "Urgent information of sorts that wasn't made known to me?"
In other words, why didn't Her Majesty try to delay this resurrection? Surely she understood the problems resurrecting the Warrior-Captain assassinated by their allies entailed.
"Mm," Queen Oriculus's gaze was distant, far away from the present, residing in a place where she didn't have to witness this insanity. No jealousy even? " 'Of sorts' indeed."
"Your Majesty."
"Yuriko and I were interrupted while we were… resting."
"Resting," he slowly nodded. The Dragon Queen was audacious indeed to be able to say that with a straight face. "In my office."
"No, in my bedroom. And it's not what you're thinking," thank the gods for small mercies, though seeing Queen Oriculus openly admit to indulging in carnal pleasures didn't bode well for the damage her sanity had taken.
"Mira dragged us to your office along with," she gestured at the Princess, Goddess, Warrior-Captain, Imperial Knight, bodyguard, and Royal Guard. "Our fellow occupants."
"—Lady Yuriko, I mean no offense, but I believe a misunderstanding may have arose—"
"Shhh," Martin strangled the urge to reprimand the Dragon Queen right then and there, instead choosing to return his attention to the angel shushing Stronoff. "It's alright; I understand why you're worried. You don't have to share anything if you're not comfortable. Just know that nobody here will treat you with any less respect than we would to anybody else."
Stronoff's eyes darted to Unglaus and begged the blue-haired knight for clarification. His fellow swordsman helplessly shrugged, carefully avoiding meeting the innocently curious eyes of the Princess's bodyguard and the smugly self-satisfied pair belonging to Mira.
"I, I am grateful?" Stronoff pinched the bridge of his nose. Fatigue was plain to see in the warrior's bearing—further signs of resurrection sickness. "If I could have some time to gather my thoughts, that would be most appreciated."
"Forgive our lacking hospitality, Captain Stronoff," Martin decided to take charge of the situation. "If you would follow me, I can have living quarters arranged—"
"Hey!" Gods-damned guardmage chose that moment to run her flea-infested mouth. "You're not going to say anything?"
"Uh, thanks?" Unglaus shifted a half-step away from Mira. "Again?"
"Mira, you shouldn't be forcing them in public…" Lady Yuriko objected, good sense finally winning out over the storm of nonsense swirling inside her skull.
"But like, they should be doing something. I've read books and stuff!"
"No," the Imperial Knight mimicked the Warrior-Captain's stoic expression. "No, we're not."
The Prime Minister glanced at his sovereign. This was beyond his ability to control; therefore, it was a perfect opportunity for the Dark Scale Dragon Lord to showcase her aptitude for leadership.
To his dismay, her eyes were glazed over.
'Wonderful,' Martin despaired at Queen Oriculus's blank expression. 'Her Majesty has stopped thinking.'
Alcohol, as it turned out, was not a requirement for putting someone into a stupor.
"That's fictional stuff," the angel crossed her arms. "Can't apply it to real life. You told me that."
"Ugh…!"
'If Lady Rockbruise arrives to this idiocy, I fear for the future of the kingdom's reputation,' and wasn't she standing right outside with the Theocracy priest's daughter in tow? 'Perhaps it would do me well to remember that blessings and curses are dispensed indiscriminately.'
"Lord Asturias, excuse me for entering but the door was—" Lady Rockbruise's tongue failed her, eyes widened as she covered the eyes of Silas's daughter in a single, smooth motion at odds with. "A-Ahem. I see that you're currently occupied. Perhaps we should reschedule?"
Martin scratched his chin and contemplated what a circle of people surrounding a poorly covered Warrior-Captain looked like to others. Dammit.
"That might be for the best," he curtly agreed. Talking would be a fruitless endeavor if both of them were preoccupied wondering about the madness transpiring here. Gods above and below, he was still trying to wrap his mind around what was going on.
"Um, why am I not allowed to look?" The blonde child futilely tried to peel off the once Imperial Knight's, now ambassador's, hand. "Leeeinas."
"It's not a sight your father would want you seeing, Lydia," the newly instated Imperial Ambassador firmly replied while leveling a disapproving stare at one Mira Calventa. Martin mentally revised his estimation of Lady Rockbruise; never let it be said Emperor El-Nix did not select those lacking intuition. "I'll walk you back home; your father should be home by now."
"Wait! It's not what you think—" The heavy doors to his office clicked shut behind Lady Rockbruise and her charge. "Nooooo…"
"Should've asked how she was doing at least," Yuriko frowned, unaware of the discomfiting atmosphere. " Honestly, you should take your own advice. Worked out for me."
The guardmage's mouth flapped open and closed, skin burning feverishly red before she bolted out the door.
Probably not to chase after Lady Rockbruise.
An awkward silence fell over the remaining people. Martin idly wondered how long they had been standing there for.
"We'll take our leave then, Your Majesty. You can leave Captain Stronoff's troubles to me," Princess Renner broke the pall of wordlessness. The Dragon Queen quietly gave the barest inclination of her head. There was an inherent risk in allowing the Warrior-Captain to reacquaint himself with the world through an Imperial delegate; although, the Golden Princess would hardly be biased in favor of El-Nix.
The blonde curtsied then nodded for her bodyguard, Unglaus, and Captain Stronoff to follow, but not without shooting a grateful smile at the angel. "Yuriko. Thank you for your kindness."
"No problem!" Lady Yuriko beamed as she stretched out an arm and held up her index and middle finger that vaguely reminded him of some foreign gesture. "Make sure they get some privacy, 'kay?"
"Mm!" Princess Renner's bodyguard opened the door for her small group to leave, eyes stuck to the Warrior-Captain. Delirious notions of Unglaus having competition surfaced the sea of Martin's consciousness. "Please don't hesitate to contact me if anything's amiss."
And then there were three—minus the summons, of course. Lady Yuriko preened, inching closer to her lover in a misbegotten effort to draw out praise. "I think that went pretty well, Drau!"
Queen Oriculus finally opened her mouth.
"I'm going to bed."
AN: Sorry for the delay; I was on vacation.
