Chapter 92: uwaaa, that's a lot of people staring (drau, help)

Lower Fire Month, 30th Day, 600 AGG

"Like this?" Yuriko removed their hands from Draudillon's hair as they leaned in, inspecting their handiwork alongside the dragon queen.

"You've been practicing," Draudillon remarked, turning her head to and fro before the vanity's mirror as she put away the last of the makeup. It wasn't a complicated hairstyle—just a single long, thick braid—but Yuriko hadn't demonstrated even that level of skill prior to now. "But I can't seem to recall exactly when."

"E-Ehehe," The angel nervously giggled. "I had a good model?"

'Should I let her dodge the question?' Probably not. The debt Yuriko incurred by ruining a whole pile of documents had yet to be repaid in full. Some minor discomfort was in order. " 'A good model…' You've grown awfully intimate with somebody else without me noticing, hm?"

"No!" Was it wrong to find their panicked reaction cute? "I, I was practicing with you—"

"When I'm sleeping?"

At that, her beloved devolved into a stuttering mess. Golden eyes wouldn't meet teal-green through the mirror as pale fingers tentatively hovered over her shoulders. 'Alright, enough playing around; I have to give the commencement speech soon.'

"It's fine," Draudillon grabbed the angel's hand and forcefully laid it upon her shoulder. "As long as I don't wake up with my hair in a knot."

"… sorry."

"Don't be. I will admit that I didn't expect you to find the time what with your lessons and duties," she rose from the seat and walked over to the bed, an abashed angel in tow. "Past experiences, I presume?"

"Something like that," Yuriko sounded uncharacteristically subdued, the angel's gaze lacking excitement while watching her don a pair of white stockings over bare legs. "Mom used to put my hair up for me. Like, first thing outta bed, y'know?"

Draudillon smoothed out the skirt of the purple-lilac dress after checking that the outfit was covering everything properly. "It must have been comforting."

"Yeah… sorta thing you miss after it's gone."

"Indeed," time healed all wounds, but how much time had passed for Yuriko compared to herself? Even then, it ached to remember days long-gone where she could wake up and remain ignorant to an adult's responsibilities. "There's still some time until we need to leave, so I can adjust your hair if you want—"

"Mm mm," Yuriko shook their head. "You should spend that time on reviewing your speech, Drau."

"Very well. Once we have another hour to ourselves then."

"Drau—"

"It'll be your first ball," she leveled a disapproving stare. "Do you truly mean to attend with your usual hairdo?"

Yuriko fidgeted under the stern gaze. "Erm, the reception didn't count? 'Cause I thought with all the important people there…"

"You're right in saying that doesn't count; thus, your hair is mine to adjust after the speech."

"Shouldn't an attendant do it? Y'know, because there's a ton of stuff to deal with."

"No."

The angel had a very good point. Unfortunately for them, Draudillon would rather not share if possible, even with servants whose sole purpose was to look after these specific types of issues.

"Ueeeh…"

"I'm happy we could come to an accord," she stood up from the bed and extended a hand to the angel. "Or am I alone in assuming so?"

Yuriko looked at the hand for a few seconds before the corners of their mouth curved up ever so slightly. "Fiiine~"

Draudillon's eyes softened. It was like beholding them as they were in the early days of meeting, but more genuine somehow. Less faked.

The couple stood in blissful repose for a while longer until Yuriko finally broke the tranquility. "We should probably get going before Martin busts in."

"Of course," the dragon queen snorted in response. Her Prime Minister was certainly that sort of tactless person when it came to her personal affairs. "By the way, are you sure you're satisfied not giving a speech of your own. It needn't be long if that's a factor you were considering."

"More like, I had a really tough time talking to just a small conference room's worth of people," Yuriko awkwardly scratched their neck. "And you told me we're about to walk in front of thousands of people."

"Possibly over ten-thousand."

"That… doesn't really help…"

"If you'd rather not, it's fine," Draudillon patted her beloved's face. "I only wanted to make sure. The fact you're willing to come with me is more than enough."

"Maybe. It just makes sense for me to say, say something, you get me?" Yuriko wrung their hands. "I dunno. After doing all the stuff I did, there's this feeling of people expecting me to."

'Right?' The look in the angel's eyes asked.

"Probably," Draudillon conceded. "In the spirit of honesty, I believe you could get away with being completely absent."

"I wasn't gonna go that far," Yuriko pouted. "But public speaking is definitely a 'nope!' "

"Again, that's fine," she turned towards the clock. It was about time. She felt slightly disappointed the angel was vehemently against addressing their people at all, but if they weren't comfortable, then they weren't comfortable. "We should get going; three hours is cutting it close when it comes to my attendants…"


"Talk about good timing," Gagaran grinned as the party cleared the security checkpoint. The affair had been a harrowing one beneath the gaze of that monstrous, four-winged lion-helmed angel. They were strong enough where she couldn't even tell how strong they were. "Didn't know they had air patrols hanging out at the borders now."

Evileye had it the worst, being an undead. Lakyus still wasn't certain if the angel couldn't see past the vampire's countermeasures, or if they did and simply didn't care. Either way, the spellcaster may as well have been a block of marble during the inspection: temperature, stillness—they had everything down pat.

"Duh. Of course they'd have air patrols with all these angels."

"Mass of muscle," the twins' responses were filled with a peculiar mixture of mock-mournfulness and derision. "Why doesn't the Scalewing Confederacy have a treaty with the Draconic Kingdom?"

"You two already know why, so I ain't answering that."

The Wyvern Riders had a history of keeping a distance from outsiders. Thanks to the ridiculously difficult terrain they called home—read, mountains—no countries were willing to contest this policy; although to be fair, the Confederacy still allowed visitors. The country just didn't want to get involved in admittedly messy international affairs.

'Might be a bit of ill will between them and the Draconic Kingdom then?' Well, those weren't Blue Roses' problems.

"It's a lot livelier than I was expecting," Lakyus observed the people occupying the streets of the Draconic Kingdom's capital. Sights of joy and energy filled the adventurers' view everywhere they looked. Several bystanders openly gawked at the famous team, though none thronged around them, strangely enough. "Only been… what? A few months since the angels were first sighted?"

"Give or take," Evileye nonchalantly replied. The affected casualness wasn't enough to fool Lakyus—or the rest of Blue Roses for that matter. All of them could see how the spellcaster was on edge with the holy summons surrounding them from every angle.

"Don't be—"

"—worried," Tina ruffled Evileye's hair through the crimson hood. "If they didn't attack earlier, they won't in the middle of the city."

"Until Shorty blows something up!" Gagaran chuckled, wyvern-leather jacket rustling as they joined Tina's efforts to infuriate the spellcaster.

"Gagaran!" Lakyus scowled. "Save the jokes for when people aren't around to hear."

Getting detained was decidedly not in the party's itinerary. Adamantite adventurers enjoyed certain allowances wherever the Guild had influence—and innate power was an authority in and of itself—but she had little desire to test their luck. She had a difficult time imagining Queen Oriculus holding a positive outlook on adventurers as an institution and as individuals.

Then there was the small problem of Blue Roses' resident arcanist being an undead. Lakyus held no delusions of angels being the gods' direct messengers, but if her experiences taught the noble-turned-templar anything at all, it was the fact that one could never be too cautious.

'Although if we were really careful, we wouldn't have brought Evileye with us in the first place,' Lakyus chewed on the inside of her cheek. That concern had already been discussed in great detail—and summarily dismissed by none other than the woman in question. "Either way, we need to find a place to settle down. People haven't swarmed us yet, and I think we'd all want to keep it that way."

"They don't like us, boss," Tina corrected Lakyus while absentmindedly fiddling with the knot of the red obi tied behind them. The twins were both dressed in casual attire: twin sets of identical, dark-colored knee-length yukatas wrapped with a red and blue obi respectively, and each with a yellow scarf that scraped their shins. "Adventurers."

'Oh, right—wait, then what was with the gawking?' Probably novelty. Wasn't everyday the average person ran into an Adamantite Adventurer unless they were horrifically unlucky. Although, considering the misfortune dumped on the Draconic Kingdom until recently, maybe the attention really was just their standout appearances. "Ah. Reasonable."

"There's an inn about a twenty minutes walk from here," Gagaran had apparently walked up to someone while they'd been preoccupied; the man was still looking a tad stunned. Blue Roses vanguard tended to have that effect on others, she supposed. "I got the vibe that it's not as fancy as the Shining Golden Pavilion."

"That's fine," Lakyus smiled. "Thank you, Gagaran. We'll head to the…?"

"Midnight's Scale," Tia helpfully provided. She had been listening in to the warrior's inquiry then. "Finding suspicious living arrangements; as expected of Gagaran."

"The Scalewing Confederacy had a lot of those…" Tina shook her head in mock disappointment. Lakyus found herself agreeing; their short visit to Gagaran's homeland had been a bit of a culture shock—again. 'No, no, most countries have similar ideas. Producing strong bloodlines and whatnot… to be fair, it doesn't get much traction in these parts.'

For good reason too; she felt icky thinking of herself as some type of glorified broodmare. On the other hand, her current strength could be attributed to the same 'ickiness' sooo… 'Wouldn't be able to wear Virgin Snow anymore either.'

"Hey, no complaints from me if they offer that kinda service!" The warrior helplessly tossed their hands into the air. "Feel free to find a different joint if you want—don't think any place is gonna have little boys though. Sorry Tina."

"But Queen Oriculus is a little girl?"

Lakyus sighed and fiddled with the silver pendant hanging in front of her chest. Why did her comrades have to bicker in the middle of the city? Why was it so damn hot? Why did she decide to don her usual casualwear—a blue and gold dress that happened to cover nearly every inch of her skin, comfort enchantments be damned? That was probably why people were staring.

Why was Evileye still wrapped up in that red cloak—

"Would be nice if Renner was here," she sighed again, cutting off her train of thought. Kids running in the streets, parents watching in content amusement, this pervading sense of safety… "This? It's everything she's wanted."

And all it took was a proverbial bucketful of godlike power. Ocean-full. Whatever arbitrary measure of volume fit.

"She told us she was coming though?" Tina picked at their ear. "Empire delegation—"

"—or something," Lakyus furrowed her brows as Tia shot a commiserating glance towards her. "Uwaaa, boss is suffering from a heatstroke."

"Yeah, you know, for some strange reason, I don't think she's had much of a chance to wander the streets," El-Nix definitely wasn't an idiot who failed to see Renner's intellect, and wow, perhaps the heat was getting to her through the layers of magical protection. "Heatstroke, debatable."

"Shame I don't specialize in the right kind of crystal magic then."

"Shorty, that joke doesn't make any sense."

Evileye indignantly huffed. "Nothing makes sense to a mass of muscle like you."

Blue Roses' shortest-tallest pair continued to toss verbal jabs at each other for a couple more minutes until they grew tired of even that. Then they moved on to commenting on their surroundings, Tia and Tina giving small inputs here and there, while she made the occasional noise of 'yes, I'm listening.'

"Damn," Gagaran whistled as the party threaded their way through a crowd enraptured by a group of bards she didn't recognize. "They recovered from their shortages pretty fast."

"Looting from beastmen," Tina snapped her fingers, seemingly lazy gaze belied by the sharp light in her coral eyes. "The spoils of war go to the victor."

"Eating beastmen," Tia suddenly reappeared with a small loaf of raisin-bread. "Mm, explains the weird atmosphere. Holy Kingdom was less—"

"—happy. Demihuman problems weren't as bad as here, so that makes it weirder. Yup."

"Is your sister the same as you two?" Lakyus blurted out. A whole trio of legendary assassins who were downright bizarre after one dug through the many, many layers of 'cold-hearted murder machine' wasn't a force the world could handle.

"Tira?" The twins glanced at one another. "She's like boss? But less dumb?"

"Wha—dumb?"

"Evil Boss got us in trouble with the Sunlight Scripture," Tina stole a piece of her sister's bread. "Big sister would've made us retreat when they showed up."

Lakyus frowned at the reminder of Slane's elite taskforce. Their captain… Nigun? Nigun had a zeal that went a step beyond 'protecting humanity' to 'psychotic person who enjoyed killing demihumans.' Needless to say, when told to step aside, she had staunchly refused.

"Err, sorry for dragging the rest of you into that," involving her friends and landing them on Slane's shitlist had been short-sighted: an error that worried Lakyus from time to time.

"Not a bad thing," Tina offered her a torn chunk of raisin bread, much to Tia's dismay. "But it was dumb."

"Oi, don't sweat it, Lakyus!" Gagaran patted her back. "I bet they didn't even report us with how bad we beat their asses!"

"Pft," they stopped before a hanging sign displaying a stylized silhouette of a dragon's head and 'Midnight's Scale' painted beside it in slightly faded script. "Well, here we are."

Lakyus entered first, followed by her comrades. In spite of the festival going on throughout Oriculo, the inn was quiet, albeit not uncomfortably so. It reminded Lakyus of those small, cozy cafes that usually operated in the nobles' quarters. 'Hm, everybody else is wearing fairly expensive clothing. Did Queen Oriculus reserve this inn for delegates?'

Another cursory glance disabused her of that hypothesis. The general style fit what her studies on the Draconic Kingdom—or maybe she'd confused it with Argland's central districts. "I'm really out of practice…"

"With what?" Evileye sounded like she was arching an eyebrow from beneath her mask. Thankfully, Gagaran and the twins had gone to check in with the awestruck receptionist, so no teasing there.

"Nothing. Just aristocrat nonsense," Lakyus tried to laugh off her verbal slip. "Clothes and cafes, you know?"

"Uhhh… sort of…?" Evileye said, voice filled with an out-of-place uncertainty. Self-conscious, almost. "That was a few centuries ago though…"

'Agh, shit,' she obviously stumbled on some sensitive topic. "You can talk about it when you're ready," ooo, the spellcaster was still stewing. "Which doesn't have to be soon."

"…"

"Lakyus!" Gagaran and the twins were returning from the front desk. The keychain jingled as the warrior twirled it about her index finger. "Everything's all set! Let's put our stuff down and then grab a bite—eh, what's got you two so moody?"

"Nothing," Evileye snapped. "Just take us to the suite, alright?"

Gagaran shot a questioning eye at Lakyus. She gave a small shake of her head that the warrior returned with a shrug. "Should be this way."

'Great going, Lakyus,' the awkward air surrounding the party was stifling. She couldn't have known such an innocuous statement would disturb the vampire, but as the leader, she absolutely could not let this tension continue. 'I'll ask the other three to give us some space when we're done unpacking.'

The five ascended a set of polished wooden stairs—not a speck of dust to be seen, which Lakyus thought was impressive since top-notch maids who weren't already in service to a noble or royal house were pretty damn hard to come by—and walked halfway down a hallway before reaching the suite. Gagaran handled the keys with a smoothness that stood at odds with her bulk, nudging the mahogany door open.

"I thought you said this place was bad," the furnishings were tasteful, the rooms gave a sense of homeliness without clutter, and overall, Lakyus didn't find anything deserving of complaint. "Looks fine to me. Even has magical lighting."

"I said it wasn't as fancy as our usual hangouts," Gagaran rolled her eyes. "But yeah, still better than our homebase, that's for sure."

"It's Evileye's fault," Tia ignored the vampire's indignant cry. "You leave your reagents and books everywhere and get pissed when the housekeepers try to clean."

"Would you let some maid mess with your toolset?"

"… no."

Sadly, Evileye's moment of triumph was cut short by Tina's rebuttal. "The difference is we clean up after ourselves."

"Alright, alright," Lakyus clapped her hands together. "Tia, Tina. How about you two go with Gagaran to buy however many supplies you think we'll need for our stay here? Evileye and I will discuss our plans moving forward."

"Shouldn't we do that together—" Gagaran's mouth made a silent 'oh' as Lakyus rapidly winked. "You heard the boss! We're taking a side-quest!"

"Evil Boss is evil," the twins half-heartedly whined, but trailed Gagaran out the suite nevertheless.

That left the priestess and spellcaster as the only occupants of the living quarters.

"You know," Lakyus tried starting a conversation. "I don't believe I heard you mention anything about visiting the Magician's Guild."

"Because I didn't," the vampire succintly responded while extracting and organizing a number of tomes and notebooks from magical storage.

Evileye really was dead set on their goal if she wasn't even mentioning visiting the local branch of the Magician's Guild. Though in all fairness, the spellcaster had a habit of scoffing at the magical development of the human-dominated nations in this region. 'Except the Empire, but they apparently keep the 'good stuff' locked away.'

"Expecting a long stay?"

"Long enough to get some reading done at least," Fuuu… this was like pulling teeth. Vampire teeth. "If we weren't attacked on sight when trying to enter, I think we can afford to relax a little."

Lakyus sat on the edge of the legendary spellcaster's bed. The suite had three rooms: Tia and Tina were sharing one, she and Gagaran the other, Evileye and their books in the last.

'Can't tell what she's reading,' the book's title was written in some wholly foreign language. It vaguely reminded her of Baharath's script, and she could be mistaken about that too. "So, uh… interesting book?"

" 'Ritual Applications of Spiritual Magic,' " Evileye removed her mask and slouched in the cushioned seat, book in hand. Lakyus wondered if undead had to worry about posture; they probably didn't. "Rigrit 'acquired' it during a business trip in Kuryeo."

In other words, the Blue Roses' alumni borrowed the book and forgot to return it.

"Spiritual magic, huh?"

"Yeah," 'go away and stop bothering me' was what it sounded like to Lakyus, but leaving Evileye to her own devices felt depressing. Judging by her body language, the vampire was finding difficulty focusing anyway.

Leaving a friend to suffer in silence staunchly stood against everything she, well, stood for.

"There were those demihumans in Abelion—Zern, right? We never got the chance to see them, but maybe a revisit will help with your research."

"Meh. Not really researching. Doubt it'll be relevant for anything we're doing anytime soon."

Nice, now she was getting somewhere. "Because not a lot of casters specialize in that branch? I mean, there's those people you hire to check for Talents; although, I think the temples were working on developing a substitute."

"Slane's probably further along then. They could invest in local shrines instead, but nooo, spooky spooky heresy…"

That made sense to Lakyus, even if she personally disagreed. The majority of the Theocracy's populace was incredibly insular, making any efforts at popularizing alternative faiths abortive, and what was the purpose of researching a whole branch of magic if you weren't going to make use of it? "For some reason, I doubt any Soryo will want to go on a pilgrimage to Slane either."

"Who knows? A couple of them are definitely crazy enough to," Evileye flipped the page. "There's a few in Oriculo, actually. Sticking around even with the 'Goddess' out and about."

"Doesn't mean much when Temples of the Four and Six are here as well."

"Maybe. You'd think all the competition would discourage them though…"

A comfortable lull drifted into their conversation. Evileye kept reading, and Lakyus kept watching them reading while feeling marginally better that they weren't moping as much anymore. 'Talking about magic always works.'

"That's an interesting spell-circle," Lakyus got up and stood behind them, skimming over the text she couldn't read and focusing on the pictures. "Third-Tier?"

"Close guess," the vampire's amused tone told the priestess she was anything but. "Subformations for ritual magic."

'Gods' sake,' a bead of sweat ran down her forehead. Ritual magic was valuable, and formal codified information even more so. "Cool. That—that's cool."

'We're fine. No boogeyman has been sent after us. Just another tome nobody will miss.'

"We're fine," Evileye reassured her. "Worst comes to worst, we return it and push all the blame on Rigrit."

"You're still sore over losing?"

"W-Well, I was letting her win."

Lakyus couldn't refute that. Rigrit was strong, skilled, experienced, but Evileye was more, even back then.

"If she's here, I'll make sure to pass on what you said about letting her take the fall."

"Go ahead; it's her mistake to begin with. In fact, I'm kind of hoping we get approached now."

Lakyus looked into the distance. The window was blocked by a curtain, but that didn't stop her from considering what she'd seen of Queen Oriculus's domain thus far. Rigrit's activities were topics of mystery even to Blue Roses, so there really was no saying whether the elderly hero would make an appearance. "All assuming she pays the Draconic Kingdom a visit."

"You never know for sure."

"…" As good a time as ever. "You're worried. About meeting the Lady of Wings, I mean."

"Who wouldn't be?" Evileye scoffed at the observation. "Honestly, we should have the least reason to worry since we're sticking our necks out for the public good."

" 'Should' only counts for the classroom," Lakyus quirked an eyebrow. "Your words."

"Are all holy people like you? You know, now I'm worried because if the Lady of Wings is this troublesome too…"

"They're a good person," Lakyus laid a firm hand upon the vampire's slender shoulder. "She saved a kingdom, helped it back to its feet, and hasn't made any ridiculous demands. Not trying to imply you are, but overthinking won't do us any favors."

"Lakyus, you can't assume they're 'good' just because they saved a single kingdom. Even the legends admit the Greed Kings saved a ton humans, but that didn't stop them from killing everybody else, did it?" Evileye set the book on the desk. "Applying our standards of morality on this 'Lady Yuriko' is asking to be disappointed. Then there's always the possibility of them concealing their true intentions to achieve a greater goal—like wrangling concessions out of a Wild Magic practitioner for example."

'This is what centuries of soloing does to you…' Not unwarranted, she was forced to admit. Ordinary people, from beggars to rulers, were already prone to deception and contradiction. Riane's sake, she was somebody who repeatedly put up a facade: a relatively harmless one, but a facade nonetheless.

"Bit cynical there."

"Pays to be careful."

"What if the opposite were true? If she was 'monstrous' but soft on the inside."

Evileye shrugged. "Then wouldn't that person be a monster? Platitudes like 'inner beauty' and 'they're actually good deep down inside' are just that: platitudes. If you can't even be bothered to show this 'inner light' in a meaningful setting, did you ever have it to begin with? Someone who always acts like an asshole but has 'kindness buried underneath layers' is still an asshole.

"And going back to my earlier statement," the spellcaster went on. "I'm sure you've seen plenty of people who act pious in the temples then forget everything the priest said the second they're outside."

Evileye jabbed a finger towards the curtained window. "Go into one of those streetside shrines for a few hours, feel 'holy' and 'righteous' by being there—it's performative. Because there's a social weight attached to being a 'temple-goer' and a lot of the people who go want a part of that; whether it's because they're scared of being looked down on, excluded from their communities, or any number of other conceivable motivations."

"Adhering to certain conventions in order to avoid persecution and the like. Avoiding being kicked out of a 'group.' "

"If you want to phrase it that way."

"So people are either who they present themselves as or who they'd be if they weren't afraid," the priestess mused out loud. "What's a person who beat back a country of beastmen got to be scared of though?"

Evileye paused before quietly replying. "Everyone fears. Humans, demihumans, dragons, undead… angels too, I'm sure."

This… this wasn't about the angel anymore, was it?

"Makes sense. Death, failure—disappointing other people," she ignored the way Evileye seemed to tense at that. "The first two can't really be helped aside from acceptance. The second—"

" 'Just communicate,' right?" The vampire snorted. "It'd be nice if life was that simple."

Lakyus detected something akin to sarcasm in Evileye's inflection, but fonder. "It would, wouldn't it?"

"… you know, Rigrit's less infuriating than you in some ways."

"Means I'm more helpful."

"Odd definition of helpful there, fearless leader," Evileye and Lakyus both froze as an inexplicable pressure weighed down on them. "The hell?"

The sensation wasn't implicitly threatening: more akin to being faced with a powerful authority than malicious intent.

But that didn't make the pressure any less heavy, and successful adventurers weren't in the habit of carelessness.

Before Lakyus could apply any enhancement or defensive spells, Evileye shook her head. "Nothing dangerous—Tia said via『Message』that the Queen's due to give her speech around this time."

'Can a speech really feel like that? From this far when we can't hear anything?'

Apparently her doubt was noticeable enough to push Evileye into explaining themselves. "It's the 'effect' when people who never expect to see-slash-hear a certain other person in their life end up seeing or hearing them. King Ramposa's a great example, actually. Did a whole bunch of nothing during his rule, but your average commoner freaks out when they see him in person."

"Bad analogy: we've met with rulers before. In person. Face to face. And our eyes and ears aren't catching anything."

"There's stranger phenomena in the world," Evileye slurped an unknown fluid from an equally nondescript pouch. Despite how they were putting up a cool front, the priestess could tell the vampire was just as bothered as herself. "A supernatural version of your bog-standard head of state's authoritative 'aura' isn't the strangest. We've seen similar already with demihuman lords, no?"

Lakyus sank into the couch, exhaling in mental exhaustion. "But more intense."

"But more intense," Evileye agreed. "Could say it's because Queen Oriculus probably did more than twiddle her thumbs."

"Mm. She did get the 'Goddess' to answer her call."

'And isn't that terrifying?'

"Watch her be another Cerabrate."

At least Evileye stopped sulking.


"I may need to give a raise to the Chief Steward," Draudillon mused. "Reading reports is one thing—seeing the preparations laid out before my eyes is another entirely different beast."

"I've already seen to it, Your Majesty," Despite Martin's respectful tone, she had the feeling he was rolling his eyes to himself. "Ah, with your approval of course. I'm surprised you don't remember signing off on that particular decree."

'There's hundreds of those…'

"In any case, I hope Your Majesty didn't neglect to practice," the Prime Minister continued to mouth off. Out the corner of her eyes, she saw Yuriko crack an almost-smile. How… considerate of him to alleviate the angel's nerves at her expense. "Perhaps Your Majesty ought to reconsider the benefits of speaking in your less developed form; the people might even applaud verbal missteps if you did."

"Let's just get this over with."

Martin bowed. "As Her Majesty commands."

She took a few deep breaths and rose to her feet.

Draudillon understood that she couldn't have achieved anything meaningful without the nigh-absolute authority she'd acquired upon her coronation. Whatever reason caused the nobles to submit so easily to the dragon queen—be it her class levels, right of succession, status as a Dragon Lord—the result was less effort spent on wrangling the many aristocratic households.

If the nature of her rule aligned closer to that of Re-Estize and Baharuth's it would've been impossible to hold the kingdom together with the beastmen battering the east. She had seen the subjects of her two royal peers and knew from the bottom of her heart that foreigners would not have demonstrated a fraction of the nigh fanatical devotion the Draconic Kingdom managed to produce.

Did that diminish the Draconic Kingdom's accomplishments? 'No, the kingdom is where it's at because of countless sacrifices. There's no diminishing that.'

Mira and Agustin pulled back the dark purple curtains separating the room from the balcony overlooking Oriculia's front courtyard and took their positions on each side of the platform. For once, there wasn't a trace of impish mischievousness on the guardmage's face.

Yuriko trailed a half-step behind her, legs stiff and tense. The dragon queen set aside her worry for the angel and finally gazed upon the massive crowd.

In the skies, angels to equal the stars. On the ground, people to rival the dust of the earth. An exaggeration to be sure, but large numbers stopped making sense after a certain amount.

Still—it truly was an immense gathering just to hear her speak.

'Two hours of amplification per day,' Draudillon surveyed the vast audience that had gathered in the castle's front courtyard and stretched far past Oriculia's walls. There was a tense energy in the atmosphere, a paradoxical silence that had reached a fever pitch. 'More than enough.'

She activated the magic item, silver bauble gleaming in the palm of her hand. Perhaps she could one day develop a skill that allowed for the projection of her voice without the aid of items: something like what the more experienced among the army's commanders often used.

'That's neither here nor there though,' before her, thousands awaited. Contemplating her ontology will have to be put aside for the time being.

For now, the people important to Draudillon Oriculus deserved nothing less than her full attention. As it had always been, so will it always be.

"My people," arcane craftsmanship carried her voice further than any wind, snuffing out the last of the crowd's whispering. "Children of the Draconic Kingdom, from the heartland of Oriculo to the easternmost ranges of Lesser Dragonspine," visitors were here too, but she couldn't care less about them at the moment. "It has been years since I've had reason to call you together for celebration."

This was for the Draconic Kingdom. The people who were standing below her—and for decades had stood behind her, bolstering her hands where she alone would've been broken by an unendurable weight.

"For years, the beastmen have hounded us. Raided our home with impunity, treated us as mere livestock. Countless atrocities better forgotten. And well, now they're our allies."

She waited for the bulk of the mirth to die down before carrying on.

"It was a hopeless time for whom many would deem a hopeless people, but if we must be seen as such, know that I am honored to stand here today as your Queen. What was impossible for me to bear with my own shoulders, was made all the lighter by your valiance.

"For those of you who have or know those who have shed and spilled blood on the frontlines, those who struggled from the rear whether you be a merchant, farmer, blacksmith, noble—those of you who have chosen to stay…"

Draudillon's voice softened, briefly. Class-derived skills or not, her people bled and sweated on her orders. In spite of their ruler's many shortcomings, failures that saw them farmed and eaten, they stalwartly remained: a determination deserving nothing less than her utmost gratitude.

"Every single one of you does the Draconic Kingdom an honor. Know that the absence of the least among you diminishes the rest by an incalculable amount."

Who knew the outpouring of her soul could be summed up so concisely? A part of Draudillon wondered what mother, father, or even great-grandfather would have said in the same position. The kingdom founded by a Dragon Lord, looked after by humans, and then circling back to become a Dragon Lord's domain yet again—was it foolish of her to think they might be proud?

'Even if so much of it was accomplished through the hands of others, is it wrong for me to feel proud?'

"My people, I implore each and every one of you: live. Eat, drink, and be merry! Gods know all of you have earned it," Draudillon prepared to set down the magic item. "As citizens of the Draconic Kingdom, hold yourself with pride and dignity. Regardless of how the world may jeer and laugh, I, as your ruler, have never laid eyes upon subjects worthier of pride. Thank you—"

Hesitant fingers brushing against her arm nearly drew out a stammer.

'Dear?'

Only an adamantine discipline kept Draudillon from sneaking a glance at the angel. Stopping wasn't an option; she had to continue, pass it off as a planned development.

"—and now a word from the one who made this day possible," A hushed silence fell upon those present, each man, woman, child prepared to commit every syllable to memory. There was no applause, not now when a 'deity' was on the cusp of addressing them. "Lady Yuriko, if you would?"

She didn't question why Yuriko had suddenly changed their mind. It didn't matter.

That they wished to speak was enough to ignite an unquenchable warmth within her. In a way, it felt like by doing this, they were fully accepting what it meant to share in a sovereign's troubles.

Selfish. Draudillon would be the first to admit that her sentiment, her cause for joy, was absurdly selfish. To think she could possibly feel happy that Yuriko proved time and time again willing to bear a burden equivalent to millions of lives…the notion was a revolting one.

Even so—

"H-Hi! Um… I, I hope everyone is doing well!" Yuriko's verbal fumbling fell into the magical bauble she'd passed to them, amplifying their words for the world to hear. "Drau—Draudillon! I mean, Queen Oriculus!"

'Thank you for standing by my side.'

The dragon queen gently took her beloved's free hand into her own and squeezed: a firm reassurance that they were not alone. That just as they chose to stand beside her, so too would she be their strength.

Yuriko paused, gulped, but didn't stop. Never stopping, never regretting, not once letting their fear of falling short snuff out their resolve.

"Queen Oriculus already said a lot of what I had in mind," the angel squeezed back, straightening their spine and shoulders while six feathery wings stretched to their full, magnificent span. "About standing together and being there for each other. Like, being strong even when lots of bad stuff happens."

The angel's tongue darted out, quickly wetting their lips.

"When I first arrived here, um, in the Draconic Kingdom, I was really lost," Yuriko's grip was vice-like. "Not the kinda lost where you don't know where you are—well, also that—but the kind where you're, I dunno, just drifting through life.

"Even before I became me, I guess," Yuriko gestured at their wings, alluding to a backstory precious few would find believable. "And… I guess even now, when I am 'me,' not a ton's changed. I still have a hard time balancing accounts, reading and writing reports, just y'know—not knowing a lot."

The wind was barely whispering.

"But what I do know is that I like fishing at the lake, I like eating peaches while I'm flying, I like being able to breathe and see the sky," if the people were confused, they didn't show any of their confusion. "For me, who for a really, really long time didn't have anything to look forward to or even know what I was supposed to do with this life, I feel like that's amazing.

"Because I don't think any of us are born knowing what we should or ought to do, and I think a lot of people never figure it out… but I found something. Even someone like me, someone who's fumbling around just like everybody else, was able to find precious things I can't live without anymore. Stuff I never knew about and makes me wanna find more stuff to treasure.

"So, thank you," Yuriko bowed to a crowd of thousands, a crowd that was balancing on a precipice. The angel's fists clenched tightly around the skirt of their dress. "For giving me so, so much."

Thunderous cheers rang out, threatening to deafen her. It didn't cease when they retreated back to the room, and delving into the castle did little to mute the wordless acclamation.

"That was wonderful," Draudillon ignored Martin, she ignored Mira's teasing calls and the harried nobles and attendants filing about the bowels of the castle. "You did wonderful."

The short speech had been confusing. It was clearly spontaneous, unpracticed, and given with an inexperienced tongue. Nobody save for those already familiar with the angel would be able to properly understand what they'd been trying to convey.

It was—a personal message given to uncountable strangers who would never, ever truly understand.

"I'm proud of you," Draudillon leaned into the angel's side. "In case you haven't heard it enough."

But the pride she felt welling up from within didn't feel wrong or undeserved.

"W-Well! I'm prouder!" Yuriko blushed but managed to meet her gaze. Again, she marveled at the twin pools of golden light, how they could still retain their radiance after witnessing firsthand the harshest sights of this world.

The dragon queen raised a questioning eyebrow. "Of yourself? Even the 'Goddess' should have limits to her arrogance."

"Dra-Drau!"

"I jest, I jest," she released her beloved's hand only to pull them closer and loop her arm through theirs. "If it's you, I can tolerate a great deal of arrogance."

Someday, Draudillon hoped Yuriko Hanami would be able to feel the same way about themselves that she did for them.

"Draaau…"