Chapter 110: tired Drau is super cute too

Middle Earth Month, 12th Day, 600 AGG

"Ah…"

Draudillon languidly blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Attempted to, rather. Contrary to the schedule she imposed upon herself, rising in the morning had never come easily to her.

Still, better than before. Much, much better.

Ill visions of the capital being ransacked, fearsome beastmen breaking into the Throne Room and hungrily staring her down with a crimson sea of teeth, her trusted vassals being… yes, she was glad to be rid of those nightly ordeals.

'Though the temptation to drink myself into a stupor persists,' Draudillon resisted then—before Yuriko, that had been an indulgence saved for the feeble hours of dusk—and she'd continue to resist now. 'There was that one instance where I emptied half a case of Black Maiden in two days… Martin got upset since they were intended to be diplomatic gifts. About a platinum per bottle, was it? I should lay in bed longer if that can curb such a costly desire.'

Unfortunately for her, she had a schedule to follow that was profoundly unimpressed by her rhetoric, albeit poorly formulated, nonsensical rhetoric from a sleep-addled brain, but that was besides the point. An early shot of alcohol to start the day was still a tempting idea though.

'Abstinence is hard…' She doubted the angel understood just how tough it was for a habitual drinker like herself to quit so suddenly. And it was normal for high society to imbibe unholy amounts— 'No, it wasn't ever more than something to cope with how miserable the kingdom's situation was. I can stop. Not only for Yuriko, but for my own sake.'

The dragon queen groaned and rolled around, tangling the covers until she ended up laying on her stomach. Did she really have to crawl out of bed?

'I've already accomplished much of what I'd set out to do,' avoided plenty too, with how she skipped Duke Carthalo—Count Sivas by extension—and used that as an excuse to actively put off responding to an invitation to Cerabrate's upcoming wedding in several months. 'Marquis Flinea was plagued with problems beyond counting; although, I shouldn't blame him since Almersia is within his jurisdiction…'

What was it that Alzerdine had said? Something about 'suffering not necessarily creating good people, and anyone who tried to spin it off as something worthwhile was only deluding themselves,' right?

She wondered what happened to him, her old tutor from back when mother and father were alive. Dead, without a doubt seeing as he'd been old when she was eleven, but she hoped his death was at least peaceful and devoid of fangs and claws.

Annoying.

The dragon queen pushed herself up to a sitting position, back hunched over as she rubbed a bleary pair of eyes.

"Your mas—" A yawn cut off the question directed towards the Cherubim Gatekeepers standing guard by the walls. "Yuriko left early again, didn't she?"

Her beloved was once again sneaking off after she'd fallen asleep and putting their sleepless nature to use in order to get more done during the night. Painfully hypocritical considering how Yuriko adamantly refused to budge on the importance of rest, but given the reminders of the beastmen's atrocities that this trip had in abundance, she could hardly blame her.

The two Gatekeepers nodded in unison, the lightest clinging of metal sullying what would otherwise have been a perfectly soundless motion.

Of course, she hadn't expected the angels to be anything other than silent in their response. In the spirit of fairness, Draudillon supposed it wasn't a question that required more than a nod anyway.

"Good thing we decided against employing you all in the bureaucracy," she mumbled, more to herself than to the Gatekeepers. Making small talk with them was a meaningless endeavor. Were they capable of speech, Draudillon doubted they could reciprocate the feelings common to humanity with the exception of perhaps slavish loyalty to their summoner, her lover.

'Can't write and incapable of learning how,' with the avenues of both verbal and written communication being effectively denied to the summoned angels, using them for anything other than menial labor would be a disaster in the making. Having authorized people manage their activities broadened the range of 'safe' jobs, but she would never feel comfortable allowing them to perform complex activities without accredited supervision. 'Fuuu… now I'm beginning to sound ungrateful.'

Ultimately, the angels were still a blessing surely unrivaled by any in this age. Any complications that arose were on her head, not theirs.

With that sentiment in mind, she grabbed the glass of water sitting atop the wooden nightstand and gulped it down in one go without bothering to check the contents. Even if an assassin somehow crept under the Gatekeepers' watchful notice and decided to take the route of poisoning rather than one less dependent on external factors, she was still wearing her very much unstolen Ring of Poison Resistance and the Seraph's Teardrop Yuriko had gifted her during the early days of their acquaintance. 'But I suppose anyone who can evade a Gatekeeper probably possesses sufficiently powerful toxins—a letter?'

From Yuriko, Draudillon silently noted as she scanned the familiar handwriting. And well, the name writ across the top of the paper too which was wholly unnecessary. "She's gotten a lot better…"

Good morning!

I'll be hanging out at the nearby village again with that mumonk lady and her buddy I told you about yesterday. Bringing extra angels with me too for safety, but if you want me back at the manor, definitely send angel-mail. Or come visit with me if you're not super busy!

Don't worry about all the jobs I'm working on because I'm still doing those. No slacking off for me! (I made sure to tell Lady Sturdza too)

And ■■■■■■■■■■■■ I'm going to eat breakfast later, so don't wait for me whenever you wake up, but if you want to eat together, send more angel-mail! Will definitely be back for lunch, unless I forget, so I guess that would be even more angel-mail…? Anyway, go to bed sooner so you can wake up earlier next time!

Have a good day, Drau! Love you! 3

- Yuriko Hanami

"So energetic," despite her wry tone, Draudillon handled the hastily penned missive with all the care one might treat a treasured heirloom. "Doesn't she know getting up early is impossible for me?"

Taking advantage of the early morning hours to steal a few brief moments of privacy together sounded… pleasant. Was it pleasant enough to persuade the dragon queen to adjust her sleeping habits? 'Well, it doesn't matter if I want to or not; there's an excess of work preventing me either way.'

Something Yuriko ought to be intimately familiar with judging by the streak of ink hastily blotting out a sentence that probably went along the lines of: 'I didn't eat breakfast.'

'Why bother scratching it out so thoroughly when the meaning is obvious?' Her chuff garnered no reactions from the other occupants of the suite. 'Although I might be the only person in the world who thinks that way. She really doesn't want me worrying about her, hm?'

Maybe, Draudillon thought, she should accept her beloved's offer to visit. Being at the angel's side during a stressful time would—the dragon queen hoped—be a comfort to them, and then there were also those two monks from afar that Yuriko talked about last night.

The Diviner's warnings were certainly timely. These visitors didn't seem to hold hostile intentions if Yuriko's description of them was to be trusted, but seeing them in person would be preferable for a myriad of reasons.

Did she have time today though?

'This isn't a chance that has to be rushed,' she tapped the white, cleaned by the angel because she didn't remember doing it herself, sheets covering her lap. 'As long as I immediately have angels surveil them during their stay in the kingdom, that is. I know what I said about wanting to portray ourselves as friendly, but if they're already close to Yuriko…'

"Not something we can do for all our distant visitors, sadly," mind made up, Draudillon grumbled to herself while rummaging through the nightstand's drawers for her personal Bag of Holding and the stacks of coarse parchment she kept close at hand. Upon finding both, she dug around the pouch for the Royal Seal and a quill—enchanted so the tip never ran dry—and began scratching out a letter of her own. "They better be understanding. Complaining about an absolute guarantee of safety would be silly, wouldn't it?"

Ha, right. Any scout who believed that may as well be scamming their employer.

Upon signing and sealing the letter, she placed it into a Gatekeeper's waiting palm. "Take this to Yuriko. Preferably in private, but that's not a requirement."

'I should get out of bed now,' she idly thought while watching the door close behind the angel. Getting out was such a chilly prospect in the midst of autumn, insulated rooms or not. "Uuugh…"

Draudillon bent over further, face buried in hands, and stayed in that pathetic position until she had her fill of groaning.

'The Institution ought to develop magic that feels like being wrapped in a blanket,' she threw her legs off the side of the bed. 'Temperature resistance just isn't the same.'

The dragon queen pondered possible solutions as she stretched her arms behind her back and towards the ceiling. Perhaps a localized enchantment based on『Temperature Change』paired with some sort of tactile illusion? It wouldn't even be a waste of researcher time and resources; the ability to properly rest wherever was useful for any profession, and despite illusionary magic's lack of popularity among spellcasters, the potential applications were limitless.

Useful, but not urgent, and that wasn't getting into the nitty-gritty of the production costs. Imbuing a second-tier spell into an item didn't come cheap, especially when produced en masse, and hiring an eligible Illusionist was a considerable expense by itself.

'We don't have to negotiate with just money,' Draudillon shoved the General Multipurpose Tool back into the Bag of Holding after spending a charge to cast 『Clean』. Yesterday's attire was strewn atop a chair; something that a maid would later come by to properly stow away—that is if she wanted to paint herself as a hideous sloven, which she didn't, so her sluggish feet took her to the chair, hands to the clothes, and clothes also into the bag for future cleaning. 'Many practitioners yearn for the slightest opportunity to witness high tier magic. Leveraging that passion for spellcraft shouldn't be a great challenge.'

With that bit of housekeeping completed, the dragon queen unceremoniously plopped down before a surprisingly well-furnished vanity and picked up the comb left laying upon its surface.

What greeted her was the reflection of a grumpy woman suffering from what a polite person might call an artfully messy case of bedhead—but no eyebags, which was victory enough for her. Regarding tousled hair, anyone who claimed to start the morning without it was either lying or Yuriko.

"May as well get started…" Since『Clean』didn't brush a person's hair for them, the task was left to more mundane methods due to the relevant magic items being unjustifiably expensive to purchase or research. Now that she was thinking about it, Queen Bessarez had offered to share their secret expertise with Yuriko, hadn't they? The wisdom of a beautician paired with a Fourth-Tier Priestess's capabilities ought to help jumpstart the Draconic Kingdom's own production of such items. "Why do I want to start doing so many things now…?"

Truthfully, it was only natural she'd always wanted to. There had just never been the opportunity to indulge in what she wanted, in what would propel the kingdom forward, when stability was a laughable dream.

And now it wasn't.

Now it wasn't.

'Mm.'

Draudillon Oriculus smiled. To the her right there in the mirror, a person who could somehow still manage such an act.

Mm, it was a good morning.

So it was an honest shame to be stuck indoors all day.

That particular sentiment stood at the forefront of Draudillon's mind while she fiddled with the toadman trinket squatting atop a stack of papers. The autumn chill had yet to grow unbearable during this time of the year, making the current weather ideal for a quick stroll outside.

But she was stuck here behind a desk, so none of that had anything to do with her.

'Hopefully Yuriko is enjoying it enough for the both of us.'

Draudillon carefully kept a frown off her face as the attempt at self-reassurance fell flat. Sharing in the delights of nature with her beloved trumped any exercise in mental gymnastics she was capable of.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," Mister Bukovin bowed, and she raised an eyebrow. "Though there remains another quarter-hour until the appointment, should I call for my Lady?"

Baroness Cela Ana Del Oltenia…

"It's fine," her fingers lightly tapped out a beat on the side of a glass of water. "Lady Oltenia has had a difficult year. I would not fault her for fifteen minutes."

'Difficult' was quite the understatement. After the Baroness and her family were set upon by beastmen, and the resurrections that followed literal years after the fact, the then Baron—too stricken by the events he had undergone and how his wife could not be revived—passed the title to his eldest daughter.

Nine-and-ten years was plenty old, and Lady Oltenia wielded a sharp intellect paired with an admirable sense of responsibility, but Draudillon really didn't think any Lord or Lady raised their heir with the expectation they would eventually have to navigate the current state of the Draconic Kingdom.

'Us being here isn't helping her with the strain either,' a flash of embarrassment coursed through the dragon queen. Going along with Yuriko's… plan, for lack of a better term, to make the Baroness more comfortable around them had appeared to backfire tremendously. Outright disliking the angel to the point Lady Oltenia said it straight to their face hadn't been an expected outcome. 'At least those two figured out some kind of agreement to keep the peace. I think? It should be so, unless Yuriko misread the situation…'

"Mister Bukovin," she decided to figure this out once and for all. "I have a question."

"On behalf of my Lady, I am ever at Your Majesty's service," the butler closed his eyes, palm over chest.

"Is there a reason why the Baroness is uncomfortable around Lady Yuriko?"

'Or to be more clear, do you know the reason?'

"I intend no disrespect to anyone, but would not most people find it nerve-racking to stand in the Goddess's presence?" To the butler's credit, he managed to answer without hesitation or stuttering. "Her power demands respect, and others fear falling short."

He was good at keeping his composure, Draudillon gave him that. Or should she say, as expected from a servant who claimed noble lineage?

However, her eyes and ears were also good, and her intuition better. All honed skills produced through life experiences, in the form of levels, filling up the vessel that was her soul and lent themselves well to picking apart social interactions.

'This butler, he definitely knows the reason,' Draudillon immediately discerned. "That's true. A human would naturally fear a dragon, after all. Why, I recall feeling very much the same when I met her myself.

"But," she leaned forward, elbows propped against the desk. "With that being said, it's hard to attribute outright dislike to that kind of reasoning, no? People can be afraid of the mighty all they like as their instinct demands, but to hold an ill opinion of one's benefactor is rather strange."

"That's…" Mister Bukovin visibly struggled for the words that would save him from this terrible predicament. Draudillon fought the urge to snort in amusement; she shouldn't be finding humor in teasing their beleaguered hosts for what boiled down to mainly gossip. "My Lady is most grateful for what the Crown has done, Your Majesty."

"And the Crown is satisfied with how she continues to administer her demesne," the dragon queen patiently replied. Now she was curious. Her gut feeling didn't warn of danger, so what could this mysterious motivation be? "I simply wish to understand how I can make her duty easier. She has been and will be working closely with the angels. It would be beneficial for everyone involved to discard obstructive sentiments when none are necessary."

"Ah, hm," the flummoxed butler hemmed and hawed. "To speak of this without my Lady's permission is…"

Draudillon refrained from pressing him further, sensing that he would soon speak. There was no point in forcing people to do what they were going to do of their own free will anyway.

"Your Majesty," the butler visibly steeled himself, glancing for some reason at the toadman trinket Yuriko had gifted her. "I know that you are not a person who would condemn others for the preferences they desire in a partner."

"That depends," she mildly reproved. Many preferences were fine, but ones like Cerebrate's made her sick to the stomach.

"I deeply apologize!" Mister Bukovin bowed again, steeper, and deep furrows of worry carved upon the landscape of his face. "This lowly servant spoke without—"

"Continue, please."

"Y-Yes, of course," he coughed into a gloved fist. "My previous statement was meant to, err, imply that my Lady might share the same inclination as Your Majesty."

Well.

"Yuriko is mine," wait, no, that wasn't what the butler was saying. Wouldn't make sense unless this was the 'tsundere' archetype—she promptly stopped trying to remember the memory of that particular conversation. "Nevermind what I just said. I take it to mean Lady Oltenia prefers women over men when it comes to romance?"

Mister Bukovin owlishly blinked. Draudillon closed her eyes and breathed in before releasing it all with one great exhale. "To clarify, I believe my proclamations have made clear that Lady Yuriko is no longer entertaining suitors or suitresses." Because the angel had her. "So obviously you couldn't have been referring to her when bringing up your master's preferences."

Haaaah… no matter how she scrambled to rephrase her conviction, wasn't this as equally undignified?

"I… yes, I understand, Your Majesty," if he understood, then why did he have to stare at her like he was confused?! It wasn't nearly as bad as having miserable wretches lust after her child form and its associated mannerisms, but the humiliation was still very much real. "My lips are sealed on this subject forevermore."

"You have my leave to tell whoever you wish," in for a copper, in for a gold, was it? "Of this, I am wholly unashamed."

"I will engrave your words upon my soul, Your Majesty," the butler's gaze somehow shone with both pity and respect. "It's heartening to hear that the kingdom's peace is secure."

'Correcting his belief of my motivations here is a waste of effort,' Draudillon decided to cut her losses and move on. The circulating gossip could always be worse, and this one was at least grounded in reality. At any rate, she had already spent too much time on this topic. "Good. Anyway, as you were saying?"

If it—obviously, obviously—wasn't Yuriko, and the Baroness treated the angel coldly while being excessively polite to her, then… oh.

"My Lady may have possibly taken a liking to Your Majesty," the dragon queen kneaded her temples. "Or rather, she has always admired Your Majesty, and seeing your magnificence in person only solidified that impression."

'Like the plot of some trashy romance novel,' Draudillon dryly commented to herself. As was the case with most who possessed the means, she had read her fair share of mediocre fiction not worth the paper they were written on. 'Love triangle? Those weren't unreadable if the author was competent, but in real life…'

It wasn't uncommon for people to take on multiple partners. Certain regions of the Draconic Kingdom were even incentivized to pursue such a lifestyle due to the beastman-wracked havoc on the gender ratio, and generally speaking, the powerful were expected to bear many children for the sake of ensuring national security.

In the past, she had been unhappily prepared to be one of said partners to a relatively powerful adventurer, yet being on the other end felt strange in a way Draudillon wasn't sure she liked.

'If I had to, I would,' but that was the thing, wasn't it? She didn't have to, not anymore. 'Yuriko and I, we don't need heirs considering our immortality. My compatibility for Wild Magic is largely the result of a Talent, and those aren't passed down to offspring. Regarding Yuriko… it sounds callous of me to put it this way, but her summons cover most of the reasons why people might want her to bear children, and neither of us wants to be with nor see the other with someone else.'

Honestly, the issue didn't require the energy she was spending on it. 'Why am I thinking so hard? Regardless of the circumstance, the answer I'd give to the Baroness will always be 'no.' '

"I'm flattered," Lady Oltenia's affections had hardly escalated into anything serious; in fact, Draudillon felt somewhat contrite for extracting the secret from the Baroness's butler. "Though I must clarify that I haven't the desire to requite her sincerity."

"This servant wouldn't suggest otherwise, Your Majesty," Mister Bukovin gravely replied. "Would it truly not be more beneficial to leave this matter unaddressed?"

The request was sensible; despite Lady Oltenia's behavior the past few days, even they wouldn't dare offend Yuriko by making a move on the angel's romantic partner. Therefore, if the Baroness was unlikely to act upon their feelings, then avoiding the dragon in the room—the figurative one, not her—was a plausible course of action.

One day, the Baroness would move on to more practical candidates, and this whole 'crush' business would be left behind them.

Doing that, however, seemed a tad harsh. Was she not the queen of the Draconic Kingdom? One might say that handling this kind of trivial matter was below her, but couldn't the opposite also be said? If all it took to ease a vassal's turmoil was by sharing a few words, then she would be a negligent ruler indeed to fail in doing so.

"I'll let her down gently, perhaps a day or so before our departure," Draudillon decided. "Clear up the air, any misunderstandings, and whatnot. I won't mention Mister Bukovin's involvement, of course."

"I submit myself to Her Majesty's wisdom," their heads turned to the door as the sound of knocking came from the shut entrance. "Excuse me, Your Majesty. That must be my Lady."

'Five minutes until a quarter-hour,' well, Lady Oltenia wasn't a morning person either, and Draudillon hadn't the heart to admonish her host in their own manor. 'Hm, that's uncharitable of me. She's still early, no?'

The butler held the door open for his master, who came to a stop and dropped into a curtsy once she was fully inside the room.

"Rise, Lady Oltenia," the Baroness obeyed, surreptitiously smoothing out the skirt of her dress. "Are you doing well this morning?"

"As well as can be. I pray that Her Majesty also finds today pleasant."

"Thank you," Draudillon gestured at the chair opposing her from across the desk. "And have a seat, if you would."

Lady Oltenia quietly walked to the cushioned seat—to be clear, it was just a cushion placed atop a pinewood chair—and settled herself. Their eyes initially settled on the toadman trinket before quickly flicking towards the dragon queen, but lower, avoiding eye contact.

'I should be careful with how I interact with her,' the butler's earlier revelation had thrown her a bit out of sorts. 'It doesn't matter, not in the end, but giving false hopes and further fueling her fantasies would be cruel.'

Though even if Draudillon thought that, what was she supposed to change? Her behavior from the start had maintained a proper distance from vassal and monarch. Unless, that was the sort of thing the Baroness was attracted to?

'Come to think of it, Yuriko is that way too…' The angel made constant mention of how they admired her mannerisms and appearance. I-It made sense, perhaps? Rulers were expected to be regal, after all. 'Maybe I never needed to pretend to be a child. Pft, if only.'

"Let us continue from where we left off last evening," Draudillon laid a hand upon a packet she'd prepared beforehand. "I believe I've mentioned the state of our borders and the new security measures being planned. Thanks to our newfound understanding with the Beastman Country, the Court has decided to relax the security measures Lady Yuriko had implemented."

"The Silent Wall," Lady Oltenia murmured with a hint of grudging awe.

'Better than 'Lady of Wings,' ' 'Silent Wall' was very on the nose, but at least people weren't calling it 'Wall of Wings' or copying the Holy Kingdom. 'I'm unsure if I could even laugh at that point.'

"Yes, that," none of those irrelevant thoughts showed on the dragon queen's face. "You're in luck, Baroness. However, I must ask: what do you want an Infernum for?"

"A variety of purposes, Your Majesty. The blacksmiths of Oltenesta could use the fire. We're still having trouble importing fuel material, and expanding logging operations feels shortsighted since we're relying on the wildlife population for income and other resources. Also, studying the angel's effect on forged items might be a promising avenue of research."

"Hm. The research I can understand, but a single Infernum won't be enough to boost your demesne's output by the amount you're hoping for."

Better than that one nobleman who asked for one in order to burn literal sewage. To be fair, she had the feeling he'd been too stressed out of his mind to formulate compelling reasons. Her people tended to forget that among the elves freed from the Beastman Country, a decent number were serviceable druids who were eminently qualified to handle the disposal of organic waste. The people of Loyts allowed certain breeds of slimes to live in their sewers, but they also had to spare manpower to cull overpopulation, and Draudillon wasn't particularly eager to tackle the question of how to effectively train shit-eating monsters. 'It couldn't hurt to ask Queen Bessarez, I suppose… she's not the type to seek the humiliation of others.'

"After reading the documents Her Majesty has kindly provided, I'm confident it'll be sufficient to tide the local blacksmiths over until the merchants return with good news."

"I see," before, Draudillon would've sent a courtier to double-check such claims, but sparing a single Infernum out of hundreds wasn't an unbearable cost. The Royal Court simply had more important tasks occupying their attention, and who knew? Breakthroughs in research came from the most unexpected places at times. "You mentioned a variety of purposes. Are there any others apart from those two? This is a request for limited access to a kingdom-destroying weapon, you know?"

"Exploration," the Baroness promptly answered. "With the people protected by the other angels Lady Yuriko and the Court graciously assigned to Oltenesta, we can make great strides in dispelling the fog of ignorance shrouding the land's unmapped wildernesses. Any discoveries will of course be shared with the Crown."

'That's overkill for an escort,' additionally, rangers would have greater utility, and there were none on Yuriko's list of summons. "Do your woodlands play host to anything that warrants that kind of wariness?"

"The areas my people frequent used to be fraught with danger, Your Majesty," that, she could easily believe. Forests were well-known to be homes for monsters, underdeveloped demihuman societies, and a plethora of other hazards. "I can't imagine the inner regions being any safer."

"An understandable concern then. I trust that you'll exercise moderation when it comes to using what the Crown has loaned to Oltenesta."

"… does Her Majesty believe that to be for the best?"

Looking at the Baroness—no, the young woman who was gripped by bitterness, it wasn't hard to understand what they were asking.

Draudillon's gaze softened. Yes, she could understand.

The person in front of her had unquestionably undergone more suffering than herself. Telling them to forget everything that happened would be worse than slapping and spitting on their face.

There existed no comfortable way to accept that the time for vengeance had passed. Demihumans were already permitted to carve out livelihoods for themselves within the Draconic Kingdom, and their eastern neighbor boasted a wealth of knowledge and people resources that could elevate her domain by leaps and bounds.

Her kingdom was better served by vassals who had the strength to hold onto the future. Taking comfort in the Beastman Country's miserable loss would have to be enough.

"Lady Oltenia. The kingdom only withstood the beastmen for so long because of a few reasons: the support of our fellow human neighbors, the nobility's willingness to trust my lead, and the people's ability to unify under the same resolve," and the difficult to quantify skills that came with her ruler levels. "It's easy to follow a leader and surrender autonomy to them when the domain is in danger, but can the same be said for a period of prosperity? As the head of a noble house, you'll have to learn the importance of setting aside personal feelings for the sake of those below you."

"If Your Majesty commands so, then I shall obey," Lady Oltenia lips minutely tightened. "Are there guidelines available for consultation?"

"Use your own judgment. You can kill them if you think it necessary to preserving your people's lives, but corpses have little to share or teach."

'Avoid my own mistakes,' her vehemence had resulted in more trouble than satisfaction: harming her beloved and crippling the demihuman country's ability to benefit the Draconic Kingdom. "Drastic measures are to be carefully considered. Although because each demesne has different characteristics…"

Draudillon paused, gauging the Baroness's reaction. 'She's doing her best to not grimace, hm?'

"I can assign an assistant to your land," Lady Oltenia's dour expression was almost comical—not that she could or wanted to blame them. "If you'd like, that is."

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but I've heard news that the Court's administrators are busy with other affairs. Can any be spared to a mere barony, Your Majesty?"

"You've heard correctly; therefore, how does a demihuman helper sound?" That gnoll merchant ought to be done with his trip by now. He'd do nicely, assuming Lady Oltenia had it in her to tolerate the arrangement. "There's a couple I have in mind who possess some experience when it comes to interacting with a variety of species. None with a problematic history so to speak."

"Is that so…" The Baroness shifted in her seat. "Then, since Her Majesty is endorsing their qualifications, I will accept."

'I didn't think she'd agree to this so readily,' even if the demihuman in question had little to do with the war, harboring ill-will wouldn't be out of the ordinary. Gods, Draudillon knew she'd be unhappy—and was still unhappy to a degree. 'Affection is certainly a powerful motivator.'

And right after she told herself she wouldn't wield those feelings against the Baroness, but then that was just how things were, weren't they? Because this path they trod was the best for everyone involved regardless of how she and others felt.

She had never needed Yuriko to drag her to the obvious conclusion on that bloody day in Kruurat. Before then, the calculated, callous butchery that had been Almersia.

'You pick the truly difficult choices because to you, they're the right things to do,' Draudillon's eyes flicked sideways towards the Gatekeeper. 'But if I were you, had your power, and thought that razing the Beastman Country to the ground would have benefitted the kingdom most, I would've done it in a heartbeat.'

"I'm pleased to hear that. His arrival can be expected by the end of next month then."

'It's funny. Yuriko professes to admire me for my decisiveness, the ability to make utilitarian decisions, while I admire her for the opposite. Yet at the same time, she hopes I won't have to be such a person in the future, and I nudge her towards becoming it—each for the other's sake.'

"Are there any specific accommodations I should prepare, Your Majesty?" Ridiculous, to jump so suddenly to discussing accommodations for one of the demihuman the Baroness surely despised.

'All that to say love is an absurd thing.'

"He has a particularly aggressive pet from last I've heard. It has quite the appetite for meat, but the Crown will cover his expenses."

"An appetite for meat?" The tight atmosphere loosened a little, enough to take Draudillon's attention away from more maudlin contemplations.

"Mostly demihumans or monsters," Shatterstone Pass hadn't seen many roaming humans until relatively recently. She had no illusions that the monster would eat humans given the opportunity, especially with how enthusiastically it'd gnawed on Yuriko's head on their hike to Kruurat. "That creature will eat most anything though."

"Forgive me for saying this, but beastmen keep the oddest pets, Your Majesty…"

"They don't share a common sense with humanity," Draudillon shamelessly agreed. Ryx was infinitely more dangerous than the ball of fur and fangs, but he was different. "However, from what I've been told, it seems plenty of beastmen feel uneasy around his pet. In any case, we've gone off-topic; there remains another use you're considering the Infernum for, correct?"

"Nothing escapes Your Majesty's sight," Lady Oltenia smoothly went along with the return to topic. "I thought hosting one of Lady Yuriko's mightier envoys would attract more pilgrims to the region."

'Ironic.'

"A bold proposition," Draudillon settled on instead. Hardly something she hadn't heard from the less reserved among her Court, but it would be a lie to say she expected this from the Baroness. "I wasn't aware you were a proponent of the Dawnwing Cult."

"Having one of their temples established here would be a blessing, Your Majesty," Lady Oltenia avoided giving a straight answer, though her meaning remained clear. Hm, well, being able to put aside personal dislike was the development Draudillon wanted to see from her. "We could use more priests, but I have no wish to cause any strain between Her Majesty and Lady Yuriko…"

'Within her purview, there's one run by priests of the Six. Numbers aside, the Crown de facto administers the religion surrounding Yuriko, so this aligns with our plan to gradually excise the Theocracy's influence. Perhaps we should act more proactively and offer this type of deal to the nobility at large.'

"I'll make the necessary inquiries," in other words, ask Yuriko if she could perform an additional cast of『Summon Angel Tenth』 today. Not everyone needed a Cherubim when the masses were plenty impressed by a Principality. 'Forget about 'straining;' Yuriko would be happy I asked.'

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Lady Oltenia replied in a conflicted tone. Probably the combined result of relief at having their request approved and distress at the further implication of how close she was with the angel. "I apologize for troubling you with this."

"It benefits the Crown and gives me some useful ideas, so I'm grateful as well," Draudillon sipped from her glass of water. The Treasury might be funding the Cult's temples, but eventually, it would also receive a portion of the faith's income—and that wasn't getting into other developmental possibilities either. "While we're here, are there any other petitions you would like to put forth?"

"I dare not plead for more, Your Majesty," Lady Oltenia said. "My only hope is that I can one day repay this generosity manyfold."

"I'll be looking forward to that," the dragon queen's hands folded together. "May the rest of the day see you in good spirits."

"Likewise, Your Majesty."

Draudillon watched Lady Oltenia stand up, bow, and exit with the butler in tow. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving her alone with the two angels standing by.

She glanced down at the desk, then at the glass of water, and heaved a sigh.

"At least I don't have to doodle anything nowadays," she muttered to herself. Of course, a stiff drink would've still been much appreciated. 'Plus, I'm not expected to scribble out childish platitudes anymore, so there's no reason to toss away my progress.'

And she'd wanted to surprise Yuriko with a visit too, right? Before they returned by dusk and all. Which meant no drinking unless she would rather wake up to a certain disappointed angel.

'This is the longest time I've gone without alcohol since I'd first begun partaking…'

That had been… before her age of majority, if she recalled correctly.

The dragon queen sighed again, and grabbed a clean sheet of parchment along with an enchanted quill that had originally belonged to some beastman.

"I best get started then."

Cela's shoulders sank in blissful relief as her lungs released the breath she'd held captive for so long.

"Would my Lady like a drink?" Iacob quietly offered the instant the door to Queen Oriculus's study closed shut. She was pretty sure the Queen's divine sentinels could still hear them—hell, the Principality Slaughter lent to her was visibly inferior by a long shot and that thing had senses surpassing most of the rangers she knew. "Our cellar happens to be remarkably well-stocked. In fact, I believe we even have a few bottles of the Theocracy's Cielo Chianti and Chiara Prosecco."

Her lips twisted into a grimace. "That's not funny."

The reason why the wine cellar happened to be well-stocked was because Cela, like every other noble in the Draconic Kingdom save for maybe those of the Royal Court, had been expecting Her Majesty to be an avid drinker. In fact, albeit unrelated to tales of her drinking, the vintners of the premier Black Maiden had renamed it thus after the Queen: alluding to her title as a Dragon Lord.

'Just goes to show how trustworthy hearsay is,' Cela mocked herself. She should've known; the disinformation could probably be traced to foreign nations seeking to impugn the dignity of her sovereign. 'Not like I've ever seen her get drunk in person anyway…'

"In that case, shall I make preparations to offload some of the estate's stores?"

"No. We'll probably find ourselves making use of it in the near future," who was she kidding? Like a myriad host of other things, this sudden change in Queen Oriculus was definitely the angel's fault. It was admittedly a good change, yet that sentiment did nothing to wipe away the heat of humiliation when she realized all that purchased wine and liquor wouldn't be fulfilling their intended purpose. "Smooth a few meetings with my peers and whatnot. Who knows? Maybe I'll even empty the cellars myself."

To be fair, the truly expensive vintages like the Draconic Kingdom's own Black Maiden and the aforementioned Theocracy varieties were more of family heirlooms than purchases; she'd been surprised the filthy beastmen hadn't emptied the cellars, actually.

"As my Lady says," Iacob pointedly avoided mentioning her abysmal tolerance for alcohol—which was fine by her because she had never been much of a drinker in the first place. "Though I fear it may be a while until the surrounding houses start organizing gatherings again."

"Make sure it doesn't go bad then," Cela snorted. "I'm going back to my room."

"Your study, my Lady?"

"Bedroom," gods knew the depths of her exhaustion. The meeting with Her Majesty couldn't have lasted longer than an hour, yet Cela found herself utterly spent. 'Myths and folklore never sing about the ailments that accompany resurrection.'

Complaining was absurd considering that apart from the oh-so-amazing Lady Yuriko, the only other known person capable of resurrection was Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra from Blue Roses, and even Cela was forced to admit that the adventurer's commendable capabilities fell short of the six winged angel's.

Lady Yuriko simply operated on an entirely separate realm of scale and efficiency. Whereas the acclaimed priestess rarely offered the miracle which allegedly should come at a high material cost, the 'Goddess' tossed around resurrections like wheat bundles after a bumper crop. It wasn't enough that they ruled the heavenly host; they also had to be blessed with powers humanity couldn't begin to dream of.

'It's not fair.'

It didn't bear thinking about.

Just that… what had been the point of everything?

"Would my Lady like for anything to be sent up?" Iacob's question pierced through the mental fog. "Tea, perhaps?"

"I'd appreciate some tea," she agreed with a forced smile that fooled no one. "Thank you, Iacob."

He bowed without further comment and walked away towards the kitchen. Cela watched for a few seconds more before clenching a fist and pressing it against her forehead. "Damn it all."

It hadn't been all bad at first.

Her mind wandered to one of yesterday's conversations.

'What of Kroh'or, Your Majesty?' Cela's chest thudded, not out of nervousness or fear, but anticipation and anger. 'The leader of that clan. A Tiger Zoastia. 'Endless Slaughter,' the other beasts called him.'

Speaking to the Queen with such poor composure was deplorable. At the moment, she had struggled to care despite sitting right in front of the person she admired the most.

Cela didn't think she could ever forget the pity borne by those teal eyes.

'Faa'zh Ro Kroh'or was slain at Fort Adelemus, I believe. However, if it's tangible proof you desire… I imagine it'll be very difficult finding any identifiable remains.'

Good. Good.

She didn't know if demihumans shared the same hell as humans, but Cela prayed that the beastmen were there being scorched by undying flames and flayed by equally as unrelenting demons.

'Ramya and Satish,' an old hatred smoldered within as she plodded up a staircase. Those two, they were the ones in charge of the warband that had raided Oltenesta in the name of the now deceased Rajan.

Those two were the ones who had sauntered into the manor, mocked them for their weakness despite being lords, killed Father, Mother, dear Anton and Elvira—

What had been the point of it all?

Cela slammed the door behind her and fell face first into a quilted pillow. The beastmen were apparently able to curb enough of their savagery to keep from tearing apart too much of the manor and her family's belongings. Probably to indulge in that filthy, animal avarice of theirs, so she shouldn't be too surprised.

For abominations that loved to boast of 'pride' and 'honor,' they were decidedly bereft of both. Proper claimants to honor did not butcher civilians in their homes, did not eat them, and did not parade the leftovers in some demented celebration.

So why did she accept Queen Oriculus's offer? The very idea of allowing demihuman trash to advise her set her blood aboil. What would beasts know about fixing what they left broken?

'Her Majesty said this one was uninvolved with the war,' and that's where it all came back to, wasn't it? 'Refusing right after she agreed to my outrageous request was untenable.'

No, it wasn't because of the boon itself. Lady Yuriko herself could've asked, and still Cela would readily meet them with harsh rejection.

"Your Majesty…" Cela hugged the pillow tightly against herself and rolled up into a ball.

Dragon Queen Draudillon Oriculus.

The master of the Draconic Kingdom and its children since she was but a scant one-and-ten years of age. An unbreakable symbol who bore the lofty title of Dark Scale Dragon Lord and stalwartly navigated the kingdom through a situation anyone else would have crumpled under.

Even in the form of a young girl, Queen Oriculus commanded ample respect and authority. As a mature woman, her true appearance…

'Stop. Stop thinking about her. It's hopeless.'

An immeasurable dignity. Regal mannerisms that conveyed magnificence with the smallest mostions. A-A shapely form that drew the eyes like the parched to the fountains of Eryuentiu.

Women being with each other wasn't a common practice in the Draconic Kingdom and its human-populated neighbors, so she'd been prepared to smother this budding fancy of hers, but then Her Majesty came to Oltenesta.

And in a way, even though the thought caused her gut to twist, seeing Queen Oriculus with the angel had felt like confirmation.

Confirmation that she wasn't wrong. That there wasn't anything wrong with how she felt and who she was. That there was nothing wrong with having the preferences she did.

But why couldn't it have been her?

Cela understood how fortunate she was to be born the scioness of a noble house, even if 'only' a barony. She understood, at least intellectually, the hardships that came with being a peasant whose livelihood could be ruined by a single poor season. She understood the troubles of merchants who only had the cold comfort of gold to rely on when times of trouble came.

She knew. She really did.

But why did she have to be the one who lost her entire immediate family in a single fell swoop? Her mother and siblings eaten alive, their life force insufficient for even Lady Yuriko's powers to return. Her father, a hollow husk, broken by the loss of Mother and his other two children when she was still right here—

'I died too,' Cela bitterly thought. 'I'm supposed to lead the house after that? What do you expect of me, Father, to take charge where you couldn't? Or do you even expect anything at all, with how busy you are feeling sorry for yourself?'

There was irony, she supposed, in how the kingdom's salvation was what truly opened her eyes to the sheer unfairness of the world.

" 'Drau,' " she mumbled, the syllable painfully squeezing her chest. "Seriously, just what the hell is up with that…?"

The disrespect of addressing royalty so casually, the affection with which it was given and received vexed Cela to no end. Affection that made clear there wasn't room—and there would never be room—for her in Queen Oriculus's heart.

'It was impossible from the beginning,' Cela tried to reassure herself. 'If not Lady Yuriko, then Fierce Flash. If not him, then another nation's head of state. The kingdom's crisis demanded nothing less. Besides, even without the beastmen, it would be absurd for a mere Baroness to marry the head of the Royal Family.'

And yet how was Cela to ignore the tender gazes, the light touches, the murmured words and shared laughter? Little things that stayed in sight like the peculiar trinket Her Majesty left atop the desk? The constant mentions bearing undertones of warm adoration?

"Must be nice being born strong," because at the end of the day, that's what it came down to, right? Lady Yuriko was blessed with strength, and she wasn't.

Because, if anyone really bothered being honest with themselves, strength was the singular trait that triumphed over all else. Money, beauty, social status… didn't all those things come with strength? She struggled to imagine any amount of the former three producing power anywhere near approaching Lady Yuriko's.

One could hire mercenaries, a tutor, rally an army, or buy rare magic items, but the truly strong didn't need to resort to such roundabout methods.

When someone was powerful, they didn't have to care about the etiquette and skills Cela had painstakingly built up her entire life.

'I'm sorry, Your Majesty. But I just don't think I can bring myself to like her.'

Lady Yuriko, an existence her entire demesne and probably the entire kingdom worshiped as divine, a spellcaster who surpassed the legendary Sixth-Tier of magic, beautiful beyond mortal measure, charitable, kind, patient…

'Well, I mean, she's not perfect,' the angel often tripped over their own tongue and couldn't even use the right utensils in the right hand in the right situations—okay, harping on that was petty, but the point stood. 'Everybody has their own expertise. Otherwise she wouldn't be relying so heavily on the Court to help achieve her goals.'

Cela failed to derive any solace from the reassurance. Being born a noble to a border house of the Draconic Kingdom meant she'd started with little optimism to begin with. Being killed and eaten had flushed away the rest.

"Or was it eaten and then killed…?" She morbidly mused. "I don't remember the events that well, so maybe I was eaten alive? Resurrection magic sure is—"

"My Lady!" Elise Bahena's muffled voice came through the thick door. "May I come in?!"

Cela sighed.

"Go ahead," she remained curled up on the bed. "Must you be so loud, Elise?"

"We figured you were moping and maybe fell asleep," the skirt of the brunette maid's dress swished around their ankles as they stepped into the bedroom, holding a laden pewter serving tray. "Did I wake you by any chance, my Lady?"

'No, but I was a tad busy contemplating the specifics of my recent death, and I'd like to get back to doing that, you see.'

She bit back a curt barb. They hadn't done anything to deserve her ire.

"No, I was just feeling a little tired," Cela flashed a weak smile. "You actually came at a good time."

Elise tilted her head and set the tray down on the nearby dresser. "If you say so, my Lady. Chamomile or Florent Wing blend?"

"Chamomile," Cela peeked over her pillow, watching the maid prepare the tea. Florent Wing had a sour note she didn't want to stomach at the moment. "Don't we have other blends? I'm sure the kitchen was restocked earlier…"

"Um, I only brought up these two," Elise matter-of-factly said, pointing at the cup of steeping tea.

"Right, right," the baroness huffed in half amusement, half exasperation. This kind of behavior towards a lord or lady would normally be inappropriate, but with the household staff being as small as it was, and the fact that she'd known Elise and Georgeta since childhood, Cela didn't overly mind the familiarity. 'I'm glad she hasn't changed too much.'

Elise had luckily been seeing family in the west when the beastmen visited their depravity upon Oltenesta. Cela wasn't aware of the exact details, in part due to suffering a mild case of death, but the maid hadn't been able to return until Lady Yuriko wiped out the invaders.

She still remembered the abject relief in the maid's eyes when they showed up at the front entrance with all their luggage piled around them. That look belonged to a person who'd spared no effort in trying to come back. 'It was impossible for her to return before the angels' advent, and there was nothing to return to before then anyway.'

"How is Georgeta doing?" Elise flinched at the question, brushing back a stray strand of her bob cut hair. "Is she holding up well?"

Iacob's cousin, the sole maid who had not resigned or failed to be revived, was perhaps the primary reason Elise retook her position. Memories of the past floated through Cela's mind, recollections of how she once accidentally caught Elise and Georgeta being… intimate, and the panicked, spur-of-the-moment lesson she'd received that elucidated so much.

"She's doing better, my Lady," Cela accepted the cup and saucer. The tea's heat suffused her body, marginally improving her mood. "I'm taking over some of her jobs right now, so my Lady doesn't have to worry."

'Tired all the time and bad dreams at night. What an experience to empathize with.'

"It's fine if things aren't perfect," after years of dedicated service, it would be remiss to get on Georgeta's case because they were dealing with resurrection sickness. "And I appreciate you stepping up for her like that."

"I wish I could do more," the twinkle in the maid's chestnut brown eyes was uncharacteristically dull. "I don't have her skill, my Lady."

"You're already doing plenty," Cela replied in a firm tone that brooked no disagreement. "As your employer, I find myself blessed by the Six to have a maid like you, Miss Bahena."

"But you used to get mad at me a lot…"

'So annoying!'

How did Georgeta tolerate this? "That's something different."

"Ehhh, really?"

"I'm quite tempted to change my mind."

"I pray that my Lady stays blessed," Elise immediately adopted a picture-perfect demeanor. "Would you like for me to bring anything else to your room, my Lady?"

"There's some papers in my study," Cela accepted the implicit surrender for what it was. Honestly, the allowances she made. "The stack with a copy of the local temple's family registries."

"Be back in a minute then!" The maid all but ran out of the room, leaving a bemused baroness behind. Cela squeezed her eyes shut and massaged the bridge of her nose, determined to focus on actual work instead of the miserable hobby of feeling sorry for herself.

With renewed resolve, she rolled out of bed, straightened out the rumples in her dress, grabbed the cup of chamomile, and sat herself in a chair facing the private chamber's sole table.

'Priestess Volkan did warn about having difficulties keeping up to date records,' Cela mulled over a hastily bound book: another portion of the family registries. Copying such a cumbersome text would usually be too expensive and time consuming, but she had the fortune of beating the queue at the Royal Institution of Magic for a Docucopier. Despite the item being limited to replicating a certain number of pages per day while still requiring ink and parchment, it was already becoming an indispensable convenience. 'Even then, the numbers don't look good.'

The reason for her concern was obvious to anybody who called the Draconic Kingdom home.

Beastmen had a rapacious appetite for flesh, and with their superior strength, keeping humans as livestock wasn't difficult when the average demihuman interloper was the equal of a Silver-rank adventurer.

However, perhaps it would be misleading to simply say 'the numbers didn't look good.' To be more accurate, the population was 'healthy' but imbalanced.

Because just like any other rancher or farmer, there was scant purpose to be found in keeping a surplus of male livestock. One man could induce several pregnancies within a short timeframe, while the same did not hold true for women.

Therefore, 'production' was bottlenecked by the number of women rather than men, and as a result, the gender ratio of the Draconic Kingdom's eastern regions was heavily skewed towards women. Making the whole disaster somehow even worse, the beastmen were incentivized to maximize 'productivity,' the age of the humans being 'bred' was irrelevant to them.

"What a mess, huh…?" Cela's eyelids suddenly felt like iron weights. Children birthed from children, who then had those same children torn apart and devoured—just how were traumatized kids supposed to survive and raise their own? The 'Goddess' was not all-powerful, and it would take time before the Draconic Kingdom was fully ready to cope with the needs of these stranded child-parents and wives. 'Maybe the people declaring Lady Yuriko as an emissary of the Six have a point. The gods were disgusted by this travesty and sent a messenger to deliver the demihumans to hell.'

Regardless of her personal opinions on the matter, Cela was keenly aware that this wasn't a problem that could be solved overnight or even by the next decade. The most expedient solution was allowing them to marry eligible landholders which would ensure they'd be provided for at the barest minimum.

'That's an affront to the Six,' the adherent in Cela recoiled at the suggestion. Marriage and childbirth were to be saved until after one was deemed an adult; even the misled of the Four understood this. "Queen Oriculus… she said Lady Yuriko would do something about it, but what exactly can she do except wait?"

Expecting the 'Goddess' to only wait might even be too optimistic. Wasn't the Dawnwing Cult the group behind allowing such an abominable practice in the first place? The temples of the Six and Four didn't dare speak out either, afraid as they were of Lady Yuriko's retribution.

'Queen Oriculus wouldn't allow that,' Cela frowned. 'And even if that angel had the audacity to strongarm her into accepting this measure, Her Majesty wouldn't have looked so… upbeat around them.'

Orphanages were overwhelmed, even with the additional support they'd been receiving of late. It was heartening to know her peers took the issue seriously as well, and that the Treasury was helping as best it could with the state-run institutions, but the problem in question involved hundreds of thousands if not over a million vulnerable dependents. Then there were the unique demands of the beneficiaries to take into account that significantly complexified the whole affair.

Angels were an easy answer considering the upsides they introduced like requiring zero upkeep, absolute loyalty, and access to divine magic which was a necessity when caring for so many underage mothers. On the other hand, most of the angels were tied up maintaining important security and transportation roles—the defense of her own demesne included—and Lady Yuriko was spending the dragon's portion of her mana on resurrections instead of summons.

"Am I supposed to leave this to others and hope for the best?" Cela slouched in her chair and stared at the ceiling. Setting the 'Goddess' aside for a moment, what was she capable of doing for her people? Bury her head in the sand until circumstances improved?

She jerked her head towards the sudden noise of someone kicking the door. It must be Elise, though what had taken them so long?

"Thank you, my Lady," Cela twisted the knob and pushed, stepping aside to allow the maid ingress. "You won't believe who I ran into just now!"

"Lady Yuriko?" With all due respect, Queen Oriculus was prone to staying in the study they were borrowing. Running into them came across as unlikely.

"Yup—eh? How did you know?"

"A hunch," Cela dryly replied. "What were you two talking about?"

'I thought she was going to be back at night.'

"Mmm, nothing much, really," Elise set the pile of papers down and looked upwards with a finger on her chin. "Oh! She mentioned the angel tagging thingy going smoothly and asked me how my day was. You know, if I wasn't with Miss Bukovin already, I think I might've fallen for her!"

"You don't have to rub it in," the baroness grumpily scowled. "Well, whatever. Most people would."

"Right? So my Lady shouldn't feel too bad," Cela's scowl grew darker. Did they think she wanted to feel bad? "Lady Yuriko seems like a good friend to have."

"I'll take that under advisement," disregard, in other words. "Did she tell you why she came back this early? I remember her saying she'd be continuing her visits to the surrounding villages."

"Uh," Elise's worried look elicited a huff from Cela. Of course. Why had she even bothered asking? "I'm not sure, but when I asked about her classes, she got this real funny look and ran off like a beastm—dragon was chasing her. Although, I don't think she'd run from a dragon…"

"This is the person who everyone calls a god?"

"My Lady…"

"Nevermind me," Cela returned to her chair and waved Elise away. "Tell her I'm glad she's enjoying her time here."

"Shouldn't you tell her that yourself?"

"I'll be downstairs for dinner," the baroness pretended to not hear. "Have a good day, Miss Bahena."

She could feel Elise's stare linger on her for a while longer before the maid sighed, fabric rustling as they bowed. "You too, my Lady."

Everything was fine. It could be a lot worse.

Dead. Eaten and shat out. Struggling to recover from the crippling damage inflicted by the beastmen were it not for the angels' intervention.

Then, as Cela opened one of the temple's registers, why did she have to be so miserable?

'In the end, I couldn't wrap up everything early,' Draudillon stared at the open book. She must've reread the same paragraph five times over by now. 'I guess it wasn't possible anyway, since she cut her outing short today.'

"Drau, are you gonna flip the page?" Yuriko prodded her cheek. They were terribly energetic for someone who'd only recently escaped hours of lessons. "I finished reading, and you're definitely faster than me."

"I can acquire a personal copy of The Tales of the Thirteen for you if that's preferable."

"Na," the angel snuggled closer against her. "I like this better."

"You do know that we could keep the same position, yes?" Draudillon rubbed Yuriko's head, bringing them even nearer. "Perhaps a reversal in position, or both of us with our own."

"Reading together feels nicer," Yuriko declared. "And if we both had our own books, it'd make cuddling harder."

'It's positively criminal to be this adorable,' a fuzzy coziness banished the dragon queen's earlier disappointment surrounding time-consuming duties. Her beloved was here beside her, as close as could be, so really, what was there to complain about? "How about you read aloud for both of us then? We'd be able to keep the same pace."

"D-Doing that is embarrassing," Yuriko whined. "I'm still not super good with Vulgar Draconic, and I always tripped up during class readings!"

"The letter left by our bedside this morning proves otherwise. You've improved greatly, and you'll only improve further with more practice," Draudillon encouraged them. "Besides, I like hearing your voice quite a bit. Humor me?"

"Guh…" The dragon queen chuckled at the angel's lackluster glare and faint blush. "I use my voice all the time, y'know…"

In spite of the outward resistance, they took the book from her hands and cleared their throat. " 'L—' Ahem. 'Lo! Is that not the fortress the Marquis spoke of? Truly, if my eyes do not deceive me, this must be the entrance to Feoh Jera, the city of dwarves who live far from the sun's gaze.'

The Hero surveyed all he saw, his noble visage unshaken by the bitter Azerlisian winds. Finally, they had reached the cold lands that whispered of the Great Demon Serpent whose scales flashed fiercer than the flames of the furnace, and whose thrashing shattered stone and steel alike."

Yuriko stopped and squinted at the page before turning around to look at her. "Erm, I'm not sure what this says? It's the lady who always talks weird."

"The High Elf?" She leaned over to take a peek. " 'Dost thou think us blind? A gate such as this yond towers above the snow would not escape even a mole's eyne.' It's an antiquated form of speaking and writing, so don't be too troubled about having difficulties. You did very well with the first passage, dear."

"Thanks," Yuriko brushed a golden strand behind her ear. Draudillon's eye was caught upon that slender neck, an ivory tower exposed and vulnerable— "Um, Drau? Is there something on my neck?"

"No, I was thinking about something else," she coughed to the side. "Please continue."

Her beloved's gaze narrowed in suspicion. "Okaaay… so, moving on: 'It was clear to all that the High Elf was unhappy, for hers was not of the lightless underground…' "

'I wonder if they were even somewhat like this in reality,' Draudillon absentmindedly contemplated while Yuriko carried on reading, unaware as to the thoughts ambling through her head. 'Doesn't the High Elf come across as that archetype? A 'tsundere?' No, the description misses the mark; her irritation was inevitable considering the location.'

Indeed, the dragon queen had trouble imagining an elf accustomed to lively woodlands deriving enjoyment from a permanent winterscape like the Azerlisia Mountains. She still remembered that one trip, long before El-Nix claimed the throne in his bloody ascent, when she traveled to Baharuth for a summit meeting and the then-Emperor had insisted on playing host in a property near the base of the mountains. 'The interior was fine, but the trip there and back would've been miserable without magic items that guarded from the elements.'

The scenery had been breathtaking, though that might be the sole fond thing Draudillon recalled of the whole visit. Perhaps she would ask Yuriko to take and introduce her to their Frost Giant… friends when another opportunity for an extended vacation arose. Her kingdom boasted no shortage of beautiful destinations, but it would be a waste to have accessible teleportation and not go see distant wonders.

" '… the Demon Gods you search for have taken flight,' the dwarf mournfully said. 'All save for one, who yet roams the desecrated halls of our Royal Family.'

'Could it be that there are none to rule over you?' The Black Knight stood forth, his baneful blades shedding a sickly light in the dusky caverns. 'None to sit foremost among your people,

And command mighty armies
Arrayed in rows and columns that are pleasing to his sight,
Bearing shining spears to turn away evil.
A wise man of kingly stature whose word brings order.'

Blegh," Yuriko paused and scrunched up her face. "No way I read this part right. Poem stuff is weird. Actually, why's he doing this whole poem bit? Nobody talks like that."

"It's a work of fiction," Draudillon nestled into the crook of the angel's shoulder. "They may talk however they like. Also, this is hardly the first time the author decided to insert a poem. What's the matter with it now?"

"The 'matter' is that it's hard to read," she couldn't see their expression from her current position, but the tone was clearly frustration of an endearing variety. "Don't you have any easier books, Drau?"

"I thought it was a wonderful recitation, dear," Draudillon closed her eyes. "We should skip the prose and just have you read the rest of the poetry sections aloud."

"I don't wanna!"

"Experiencing other written works is part of how you improve with your own writing," the dragon queen affected a patronizing attitude. "Haven't you ever wanted to send me verses artfully declaring your love to me?"

"I mean… hm…"

As Yuriko visibly pondered the idea, Draudillon decided to deliver the coup de grâce. "We can even have it included in an official copy of your holy scriptures. Wouldn't that be marvelous?"

"We can—Scripture?!" Her beloved gaped at her in utter mortification. "Agh, wait, when did I have something, like," they frantically made circular gestures with one hand. "Like that?!"

"You don't have one yet," she succinctly replied, feeling a thrill of amusement that was promptly suppressed. The next part, though not harmful exactly, wasn't quite as amusing. "Since Priest Lavigne and his colleagues aren't done. I haven't gotten the chance to look for one yet, but I'm sure there's a sizable crowd composing all sorts of apocrypha."

"No way…" Yuriko sank further into the pillows propped against the bedrest. "I bet they're definitely writing weird stuff…"

"Most of them must be copying from what already exists," she tried to comfort the numb angel. "The ones outputting 'weird' content are a small minority."

"Yeah, but still," their lips cracked into a half-smile. "I guess I don't have a right to get upset. They've been through a lot more than me, and it's not like they're writing to be mean. Stopping people from writing whatever they want seems kinda impossible too."

"There's no use in comparing suffering, but if there was, you can rest in the dubious assurance that you haven't had it any easier."

"I dunno, getting eaten alive sounds pretty awful," Yuriko set The Tales of the Thirteen down on their lap and fixed their eyes on the rafters above. "And the… other stuff the beastmen did."

"Did anyone ever say it wasn't?" Draudillon rolled onto her side, still facing them. It was plain to see that the visits the angel was paying to the village were dredging up unpleasant memories. "You can heal the body, return what was lost and taken, but each person is responsible for bearing the scars on their spirit, no matter how unfair that may seem. Certain bad things happening to others aren't a justification for allowing different bad things to happen to you."

They lay there, the lull not quite comfortable nor awkward before she spoke up again.

"You're right in saying that stopping would-be prophets is impossible though," at least not without wasting significant amounts of energy better served elsewhere. "However, I can ask Priest Lavigne if tightening his deadline is an option…?"

"It's fine," Yuriko shook her head. "If I wanted it done faster, I should've been helping him more. It's my fault he's so busy, and adding more to that is, well, y'know? It's really not even a big deal. Just feels a little weird is all."

Draudillon fell silent and wondered: this wouldn't ever be resolved, would it? How many times had they covered this topic? At this point… no, Yuriko had always been cast in this mold. A person who knew what it was like being ignored by an uncaring crowd, being part of the same crowd in a world where caring mattered little, and now could no longer bear to remain unmoving when she had grown wings.

"I'm glad you're you," she decided on saying. "And I'm glad you're acquiring a stronger awareness of your limits."

The angel looked at her, not quite worried—but contemplative, as if they saw the essence lying behind a facade of words. "You haven't 'ruined' me or anything, Drau."

'Isn't it strange that you, a person who I've known for less than a year, understand me so well?'

"I know."

"I wanna be strong for your sake," Yuriko's hand enveloped hers. "But that doesn't mean you should be scared I'll change. Because I have you and everyone else to set my head straight whenever I'm being dumb."

"There… have been occasions where I'm uncertain if I've done a good job of that," she admitted. "From the beginning, it wasn't fair for you to carry the burden that the beastman laid."

"That wasn't fair to anyone."

"Even so, even if you would have eventually, inevitably stumbled upon a similar crossroad—"

"Drau, you've always been a kind person," the angel interrupted her. "You're saying that you're pushing me in this direction, but weren't you the one who stopped me in Kruurat?"

They pressed their forehead to hers, sharing both warmth and confidence, conveying both fondness and an unshakeable trust. "Instead of being someone who's 'dragging me down,' you're the Draudillon I love who's cheering me on to be better."

"Am I?" Yuriko firmly nodded in response. "I suppose I am."

"Yeah! Don't forget it!"

A snort tore free from the dragon queen. Her emotions were intent on running rampant from morn to dusk and further, it seemed. "Today has certainly been a day."

"We talk about stuff like this all the time though?"

"I don't mean that. Partially."

"Wanna tell me?"

"Ah, something crossed my mind when I woke up, and then there were other issues concerning work as well… what?"

"Mm mm, it's nothing. Go on!"

Seeing them smile, as the late hours were idled away, it was hard not to think everything had been worthwhile.

AN: Hi! This update's come out a little bit earlier, but I'll probably return to what has—unfortunately—become my normal speed soon enough. I also wanted to leave a notice that I've finally gotten around to making a discord for the fanfic! You can find it at discord (dot gg slash) 7gSRPdyqeX