Chapter 105: free stuff for you, free stuff for you… and free stuff for you
Upper Earth Month, 12th Day, 600 AGG
"Drau, I'm back!" A certain cheerful blonde swung the door open after a knock went rat-ta-tat on the selfsame wood, barely waiting for her to acknowledge that somebody was there. "Did you sleep okay?"
Well, not that she minded. It was about time for lunch anyway.
Draudillon carefully shifted her papers to the side, clearing room for her beloved to plop down a wicker basket. "As well as could be expected nowadays." She got on her feet and helped Yuriko move the various items packed within the container onto the comfortably messy desk. "That is to say, better than before. And what of you? What have you been up to while I slept?"
"Had some stuff I needed to check on in the Beastman Country," Yuriko pulled out two contrasting cups from her Item Box, one a delicate construct of translucent porcelain, and the other a towering sleever of clear glass "They go to bed at weird times, Drau."
'Does she just keep a set of tableware in there? Explains why the Chief Steward mumbles about inventory going missing,' she sat back down to watch Yuriko pour tea out of a 'fresh' pot into the teacup and orange 'juice' from their personal Everflowing Juice Pitcher into the conical glass: all kept stored in extra-dimensional space, apparently. 'I'll have to send a list of taken items to the poor man.'
Later. Now was a 'mandated period of unwinding' that the dragon queen was intent on enjoying. Mostly—but that was beside the point.
"Have you gotten a chance to deliver my decrees?" Yuriko rapidly nodded. "Thank you, dear."
"Mm mm, it's no problem!" Fragrant aromas wafted from the creamy rice dish cooked in a savory broth. If Draudillon focused on the scent, she could detect hints of butter, onion, and… white wine. It was fine in cooking, she supposed. "They had a few questions, but nobody seemed mad about it. Well, they miiight've been hiding how mad they were, but it didn't seem that way to me."
"Regardless of how they may seem, be careful," she warned them. Her silver fork speared a slice of mushroom and deposited it into her mouth. Springy, yet tender. "Especially with how you are now… keep an Empyrean around you, at least."
Yuriko hummed in agreement through a closed mouthful of simmered chicken plattered upon a communal plate. Draudillon took a bite herself; she thought the sauce's spiciness was a touch excessive, but—it was good. Not dry and stringy like the first few times the angel worked with poultry.
"I'll 'member," Yuriko swallowed and poured themselves another glass of that peculiar juice. She still found herself at a loss regarding how they tolerated the taste, much less savoring it. Magical food and drink needn't always be disgusting, and the bounty of the pitcher wasn't bad, but it had an aftertaste that crinkled the brows and soured the lips. "Actually Drau, I was wondering about something."
"And this 'something' is…?" Hm. Perhaps she shouldn't be drinking tea while eating a proper meal if she wanted to avoid indigestion and whatnot. With that thought among others in mind, Draudillon set aside the teacup with a small sigh. 'The Awards Ceremony is soon and asking someone to waste mana for such a triviality would be ridiculous.'
"I know this sounds a little weird to ask, and maybe kinda rude too," Yuriko cupped their petite bosom and pushed it up. "But does your back and neck ever hurt? From—well, y'know. It wasn't ever a problem for me, so I never really thought about it, but if it hurts…"
Coincidentally, it was good she decided against taking a sip of tea, because she absolutely would have spat it out all over the desk.
As it stood, she found speaking to be a challenge: having broken out in a fit of coughing. They'd discussed related topics before—Yuriko's old world was degenerate; how the angel didn't end up as an insatiable lecher was a genuine mystery—and both of them have said… things while relaxing in private.
That didn't mean she expected s-something like, like this out of nowhere.
"I'm fine," she held out a palm, halting the angel who was already halfway out of their chair. "Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts."
Yuriko slowly sat back down, the concern remaining on their face the entire time. Really, it would be absurd for her to die from choking on her own spit after everything that had happened. She'd get revived immediately after anyway, assuming the angel didn't just 'heal' the blockage away or something equally silly.
And somehow, it was that stray, inane intrusion that brought her back to earth.
"No. It doesn't hurt, and I can only recall it causing pain on a few occasions," long days followed by even longer nights where the moon was an eye casting doubt and the sun, one of judgment. "The humans of this world are more robust than yours from what you've told me. We develop faster, reach maturity quicker, and none of that takes into account the nature of vocations, levels, what have you."
Draudillon absentmindedly partitioned the rice on her plate. Risotto, she stumbled upon an unrelated scrap of hazy memory; the people of Roble and Slane called it that, or something similar. "Frailties fail to find footholds with the same ease, and people eventually become existences your old home would have difficulty recognizing as 'human'—once they look past the skin, at least."
"So you're okay?" Was that the most important tidbit they got out of her explanation? The thought exasperated her, though not nearly as much as it warmed. "No problems I need to know about?"
"No problems. Thank you for asking though," the dragon queen confirmed and resumed eating. 'Where did all of that come from?'
"That's good," Yuriko relaxed. "Because I was worried it was something I couldn't help with. Back in my old world, people would get surgeries for this sorta stuff, but I'm not sure that'll mesh with healing magic."
" 'Surgery?' " Draudillon made certain to swallow her food first before responding. "You're referring to the medical practice first advocated by the Minotaur Sage?"
"What's a Minotaur guy gotta do with surgery?" Her beloved frowned in confusion. Ah, she hadn't gone over that figure with them yet, had she? Not in detail, at least. "I mean… huh. Now that you mention it, I've never seen or heard of anyone actually performing a surgery…"
'You're the one who mentioned it,' Draudillon wanted to protest, but decided to put that childish impulse aside—for now—to focus on the bizarreness at hand. "He was a peerless warrior that garnered quite a reputation within the bounds of the Asterion Federation and beyond. Part of said reputation includes the introduction of ideas that spanned the breadth of oceans but only reached the depth of puddles, hence the other well-known moniker of 'Boastful Sage.' Propositions such as surgery for instance: cutting apart a person to repair internal damage or to remove harmful elements."
The dragon queen suppressed a shudder at the mental image. She knew on an intellectual level that Yuriko's homeland had the mastery to perform such techniques safely and cleanly, but carving chunks out of her chest just because she was well-endowed was… either way, her figure had yet to cause her any real physical inconvenience.
Especially considering how she lived most of her life pretending to be a child, anyhow.
"Not to say everything that came out of his mouth was hot air," Draudillon shook off the disturbing notion and continued the impromptu history lesson. "A variety of philosophies and research methodology flourish throughout the Federation and its surroundings thanks to the Sage's influence. In fact, a sizable portion of their magic items have their origins in his teachings, theories without basis they might be.
"He was probably a Player like yourself," she thought out loud. "It would explain both his strength and foreign knowledge—morality too. The outlawing of humanoids as food and livestock in the Federation was thanks to his efforts as well."
"That's pretty amazing," Yuriko munched on a fruit-speckled cookie. "Being able to get so many people to give your ideas a shot even if you can't explain it. And…"
Her beloved paused.
"He found a way forward without needing to kill so many people," they found their words, ones heavy with reflection. "Doing that, after seeing everything—it's amazing. It's honestly really, really amazing."
'I think you're more amazing though?' Draudillon reached across the table, hesitated for a split second at the poor table manners before shoving that concern away, and brushed the crumbs off the corners of Yuriko's lips. "Perhaps. Taking the slow, careful path has a wisdom of its own, but how many people died while he took his time being cautious? I'm not saying his path or yours was definitively better than the other, but to me—to our people, what you did for the kingdom was a miracle, you know?"
She withdrew her thumb. "So don't let anybody look down on you. Was it right to forgive those who ate the helpless? I don't know. I don't think something like 'right' or 'wrong' is easily determined, or able to be determined at all in a way that satisfies everyone. Even still, I'm glad it was you I met and not the Sage or some other Player. I'll say this again, and I'll say it whenever you need a reminder: I'm happy you're who you are, that you're the person who's made the decisions they did. I love you, understood? No matter what."
"I-I, I knew that already!" Yuriko snapped their head to the side, face burning in fierce shades of red that stood out all the more against the alabaster skin. "And, and I love you too, Drau! It was just—I was just wondering. N-Nothing big."
"Okay," Draudillon wasn't keen on sticking to this subject either. If ever there was a sign of the scar she and her circumstances had inflicted upon the angel, then this was it. They'd… come to terms with the event, for lack of better phrasing, but despite heartfelt reassurances to the contrary, she couldn't help agonizing over it at times. "Thank you for telling me how you felt, dear."
"I promised, didn't I?" The dragon queen hadn't done as thorough a job of concealing the tone of guilt underlying her voice as she thought she had. Or maybe they simply knew her too well? She'd like for that to be the case. "And you promised too, so I'll always be here to listen if you have something, anything to say. With me, you don't have to hide anything."
Doing just that was tempting like it always was. Putting on an unshakeable front inside a world that was falling apart, being strong when strength was beyond her grasp; those things came easy to her. Even now when each day brought peace and blissful tidings, the habits born of hard-earned lessons and experience bordered on reflexiveness.
But with Yuriko, someone she trusted with her life and more, she didn't want to do that. So she wouldn't. Because she promised, she hadn't since then and she wouldn't start now.
"It's silly of me, but—" She started only to immediately run into Yuriko's interruption.
"It's not silly," Draudillon looked up. The angel had put down their cookie and was firmly meeting her gaze. "I'm listening, Drau."
'I know you are.'
Hearing that was encouraging nevertheless.
"I still feel guilty," she admitted.
"Over what we decided to do with the beastmen?" Saw straight through her; though, it probably wasn't difficult in the context of their conversation.
"Yes, that. What I had you—" No, that wasn't right. This was something they shared. "What we did with the Beastman Country. Not because I pity them or feel that they deserved mercy greater than what was dispensed. It's because…" She vaguely gestured at the angel. "I should've given more consideration to you."
"You did," Yuriko interjected. "When we were there, you asked me multiple times if I wanted to stop and even told me it was okay to wanna stop. You weren't lying back then; I know that."
Meeting their eyes was—difficult. It was difficult, yet she somehow managed it anyway. "I should've tried harder. Pondering what-ifs is worthless, but I shouldn't have yielded so easily."
"I get that. Regretting is easy, forgetting is hard, and… " The angel's voice trailed off before picking back up. "Drau, if I had the chance to redo everything, I wouldn't. 'Cause I don't want a world where people can treat other people like animals, like consumables and get away with it. I mean, sure, it'd be awesome if everyone was a Minotaur Sage, but I can't be that person. Sometimes I like to think I could be—and don't get me wrong: I'm really glad you said what you did! But… that's not me. I wouldn't go further, y'know; it's not like I want the beastmen to die horribly. Just that, if I never found out from you what was going on with the Draconic Kingdom, I would've from someone else and gone down the same road again."
'You couldn't stand by, watching and doing nothing once you had the power. You couldn't stand being part of that uncaring crowd too.'
Fool. The dragon queen wondered how a word that was almost always used as an insult could feel so fond.
"I guess that's all to say I'm not a hero or some saintess," Yuriko cracked a wry smile. "Just your average vindictive bitch from another planet."
"That isn't the comfort you believe it to be," Draudillon snorted in spite of her best efforts; amusement winning out over severity. "And you're hardly vindictive or a bitch." Or average, she silently added to herself. "Those dubious honors belong to me."
"You're not," her beloved imperiously declared in a way that was so, so very out of character and beckoned forth the laughter straining inside her lungs. "Because I wouldn't be courting somebody like that, and I'm courting you. So! You're obviously not."
"Then you aren't either," she insisted, partially releasing her mirth with a chuff. "Since I also wouldn't be content courting such a person."
"Right?" Yuriko propped their elbows atop the desk. "Feeling better, Drau?"
"I…" She did. Talking about regrets didn't change what had come and passed, but she felt lighter nonetheless. Being soothed in this fashion was nice; there was something precious in being seen and heard and understood. "I am, yes."
"Fufun~" Yuriko ate a spoonful of the risotto and scrunched their nose. "Darn, the food's cold."
Her beloved raised a finger to her mouth before she could apologize. "Not your fault! I was the one getting carried away asking questions, so I'll get angry if you say sorry!"
"What if I wanted you to get angry?" Draudillon innocently tilted her head to the side. "Have you show some of that energy in the b—"
"My question!" Yuriko loudly shouted, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. "Minotaur Sage! Your boobs! Surgery stuff!"
Like that was any less embarrassing…
It coaxed out the laughter she'd been trying to reign in. While the angel fumed from across the table, Draudillon struggled to wrangle the hysteric convulsions.
"E-Excuse me," she managed to subdue the fit of gaiety enough to speak. "I didn't—pft—it was unexpec—"
Yuriko indignantly watched with a pout that only served to break the dragon queen's already faltering self-restraint. Funny, a part of her whispered, that humor and despair alike sought to deny speech and breath.
The chortling eventually subsided, and Draudillon cleared her throat a couple of times before finally gathering the focus to conclusively end this baffling matter once and for all.
"Anyway, to repeat myself: I'm fine, my body is fine, nothing related to it is causing me issues, and even if it was, I wouldn't resort to surgery—the surgery of this world, at least. I imagine almost everyone you meet here will find the idea barbaric."
"Y-Yeah, magic probably just restores everything back to baseline," not quite true, since certain healing spells cured conditions detected from birth, but she wasn't keen to argue semantics. "What about that illusion technique you used, Drau? A lot of the ones I know of don't actually change your body… although I guess『Change Shape』kinda counts?"
"That one's more akin to what you do," Draudillon corrected. "I adopt the parameters of whatever form I choose to take."
"Hmmm… I could see through it, y'know?"
"Your『True Seeing』can pierce『Change Shape』as well," the dragon queen pointed out. "You being able to foil the effect doesn't change its categorization. If yours is a spell that sees the truth of things, then mine is one that blurs the truth of the present with a memory of the past—not an illusion portraying a disconnected falsehood."
To be honest, having memory as a requirement could be attributed to her lack of proficiency in using said Wild Magic spell, though the detail didn't change the veracity of her statement.
She explained further, warming to the topic. "I'd say it's likely an interaction between Wild Magic and your『World Item』again; do you remember the interference when I was trying to apply that glamor? It wouldn't be surprising for the two occurrences to share the same cause."
"Makes sense to me," Yuriko shrugged and abruptly changed the subject. "Ready for the Awards Ceremony?"
"As ready as could be," they were a half-week behind schedule because gathering the invitees who weren't already in Oriculo took some time, even with angels to ferry them from all across the kingdom. She wasn't too distraught: the delay wasn't a major concern since there wasn't a pressing need for the event to be on an exact day. "Did you figure out what you were going to present to those priests of yours?"
"Erm, I'm supposed to do something?" Yuriko's smile froze. The dragon queen wasn't sure what expression the angel was seeing on her face, but she was sure there wasn't a scarcity of exasperation. "I uh, I thought… ahaha… maybe I missed the memo…"
Her beloved winced and pressed the tips of their forefingers against each other. "Sorry? Drau, maybe we can brainstorm really fast, together?"
Draudillon did not groan.
'I ate too fast,' her stomach gurgled. In the spirit of fairness, that was partly her fault for getting caught in the flow of expositing. She straightened her spine, barely touching the throne's backrest, and while the seat of power was a comfortable throne with the gold embellishments and purple cushions, it still wasn't a comfortable throne. Probably won't ever truly—
Again, her gut violently roiled, and that made up her mind for her. Who cared? Everyone present had seen far worse from her.
"Yuriko, could you cast a status clear?"
It wasn't a petty expenditure of mana or skill uses, she convinced herself. Suffering through belly pains while in the middle of honoring the kingdom's accomplished was unconscionable.
"E-Eh?" Yuriko started but complied, laying a hand upon her arm from which a golden light shone forth: their『Healing Touch』skill, seemingly. The courtiers present merely gave the sight a passing glance, having mostly accustomed themselves to Yuriko's general Yuriko-ness. "Was it the food? I'm sorry…"
Why were they—ah.
"Your cooking was excellent," Draudillon rushed to dispel the blame visibly piling up within them. "I was just eager for the ceremony."
"Oh, okay," Yuriko beamed. The dragon queen heard some of the Court cough rather loudly at that, but decided to let it slide. Expecting them to remain wholly unaffected in the face of her beloved's brilliance was too overbearing of her.
'She's not going anywhere,' so of course a twinge of jealousy ran through her anyway. 'She's mine, I'm hers, and we're nobody else's. We should at least be allowed this small selfishness.'
"You did spend a lot of time in your room this morning," Yuriko clasped their hands behind their back, speech softened to avoid the ears of the other occupants beneath the musicians' ambience. "You look nice—I mean, you always look nice, b-but…" They shuffled closer to the throne, bending down to whisper. "It's super nice, Drau."
"I'd be concerned if it wasn't," she returned with a snark that quickly gave way to gentle endearment. "I'm glad you like it though."
Draudillon did a cursory once-over of herself. Her outfit, a luxurious square neck gown woven with a red, velvet fabric hugged her form: its sleeves extending halfway down her forearms, the skirt hanging low enough to cover the ankles while sitting.
Around her shoulders was clasped a crimson cloak, white fur lining its edges. Atop her head sat the ever-present dragonhorn crown, and in Martin's grasp was an ornate sword that—
Oh, Martin was here. Side-eyeing the two of them, unimpressed.
Yuriko noticed too, releasing a tense squeak as they returned to a proper distance. A mournful regret swelled; she wished they could have lingered in the bedroom. Vitality wasn't an issue either with the angel having recovered to the point where standing and normal exercise weren't tiresome anymore.
'The music is pleasant,' of course it was pleasant; she'd approved it. Or Martin did. Or her Chief Steward—the point was, it was suitable. 'This shouldn't take too long.'
As if attuned to her thoughts, the first honoree entered the hall following the Royal Guard's announcement. Ironically, Marquis Altarama hadn't been able to attend due to his other new duties as Marshal of the Court.
A young man, who was too young to be performing the heroics he did, anxiously walked in with another Royal Guard by his side—awed eyes looking every here and there, drinking in the sight of Oriculia's heart—stopping and genuflecting where the guard came to a halt: a respectful distance from the dais-raised throne and she who sat upon it.
"Your Majesty," his voice shook with reverential tones. He hesitantly glanced at Yuriko, back to her, then back to the angel after she gave the slightest nod. "Your Holiness."
She knew his name, branded into her memory just like the rest of those who would kneel before her this day. Like many others who deserved the… the honor of being praised by her, the ruler who sent them to bleed and die.
The absurdity brought a hint of bitterness to her smile. They deserved more than this, yet she only had so much to give. Raugin didn't risk—experience a brutal demise because he wanted something, Draudillon knew this, but a better reward would've been that he never had to do so in the first place.
So the dragon queen did what she could and once again resolved herself to build a country where she could provide that.
'Where we can provide peace,' Draudillon fought the urge to turn to Yuriko, instead focusing her full attention on the kneeling man. He deserved at least that much. "My Court. My people. We gather here to honor those who have ceaselessly strived for the betterment of the kingdom and their countrymen. Even when confronted with powerful adversaries, they refused to falter. When faced with inevitability, they did not give in to despair.
"Raugin Cetil." His head lowered further, if that was possible. "Your valor at Almersia does you much credit. To my relief, and that of my Court's, we have the opportunity to bestow honors antemortem."
She paused there, then dryly continued: "Though posthumously fits too, I suppose."
Draudillon ignored the polite chuckles as she rose from the throne, accepted the ceremonial sword from Martin, and slowly approached the squire. Calling this whole affair an Accolade Ceremony wouldn't have been fitting since there were a fair number of those who weren't being knighted, which was her fault, really; presiding over separate accolades wasn't something she had the time to devote to.
'Plenty will be knighted by the nobles they live under anyway,' the dragon queen took comfort in that thought as she laid the flat of the blade onto the knight-elect's right shoulder, raising it just over his head and flipping it so that the same side came in contact with his left.
"For your deeds, your strength of arms and character, I confer upon you the privileges and responsibilities of knighthood, Sir Cetil," Draudillon watched the newly dubbed knight tremble with emotion. "Rise, as a protector of the realm."
"My sword is yours, Your Majesty," Raugin Cetil, now Raugin De Cetil declared, fist over chest. At this distance, the applause couldn't drown out his voice.
"The Crown will continue to be relying on you then," Draudillon smiled and looked to the side where she'd caught a glance of the man's old knight-master. "Sir Moxa is waiting to speak with you, I think."
"Ah, right," Sir Cetil blinked and looked up, reddening as he devolved into a stammer, trying and failing to meet her eyes. Reasonable: being fraught with nerves was to be expected. "Puh-Please excuse me, Your Majesty!"
"Of course," she ascended the dais and returned to the throne. Sir Cetil waited until she'd seated herself to retreat into the crowd where he was met with barely restrained congratulations from said ex-master along with whoever else was nearby.
With the first one completed smoothly, the heretofore unnoticed tension, both set in her shoulders and permeating the hall, loosened as the ceremony proceeded without incident. There were a few other squires she knighted—honestly, more than she anticipated since noble families typically preferred for oaths be sworn to them, not another, no matter how close the relationship between the Crown and peerage. On the other hand, these squires were apprenticing under masters sworn to houses that were especially devoted anyway.
In any case, she wasn't complaining! It was an agreeable development for everyone involved: the people wanted 'divine' protection, and the kingdom still had need of caretakers for its land.
'It's good we had the foresight to iron out most of the details with the Court beforehand,' they, or Yuriko to be precise, owned land in the Beastman Country thanks to that duel with the Bafolk… had it already been months? The passage of time aside, suddenly deciding to parcel out said demesne—with the angel's incredibly eager permission, of course—without prior discussion would have caused some dour faces.
Land was land, and wealth was wealth, but being in charge of a place home to residents who used to be okay with eating humans introduced an interesting dynamic. Thankfully, no one had raised a fuss, and if one or two were less than enthusiastic, well, their answer had still been 'yes,' hadn't it? Only a handful of nobles were being honored during the ceremony, and of those, only six or so received the specific 'reward' in question.
The vast majority were soldiers from commoner backgrounds that she allotted plots of farmland or forest to—another decision that seemed simple, but required hours of hashing out details on the backend—alongside some notable civilian specialists that the Court chose to recognize individually instead of lumping them in with the guildmasters who were representing various crafts as a whole. Crown-affiliated too, by virtue of employment under the Ministry of Works and the Ministry of Trade.
A number of clergy—laypeople? She wasn't quite sure how the Dawnwing Cult handled qualifications—were also honored, all of them trembling with emotion as Yuriko gave words of encouragement that'd been prepared merely hours prior during lunch. Some of them might've been trembling due to the stress of having more duties officially dumped on them though. Unfortunate.
Unc—Duke Carthalo was among the awarded as well; she couldn't call meeting him a pleasure, but she was also an old hand at separating personal feelings from professional appreciation. Whatever her relationship with the honorees, however much fatigue she was accumulating, disregarding their sacrifices was the last thing she wanted to do.
Speaking of which…
"Sir Cerabrate," the Holy Lord knelt down, surrounded by an almost visible aura of solemnity that spread among the audience. In that moment, even those who harbored an unfavorable disposition towards the adventurer could not dismiss his heroics out of hand.
"Your Majesty," Cerabrate was displaying none of the disturbing cheer he usually did whenever he saw her. None of the compliments that caused her skin to crawl and her guts to twist either.
Draudillon was just glad she wouldn't have to repeat her admonishment in front of this crowd.
"Before Lady Yuriko's arrival, the kingdom's situation was dire indeed," she regally began. Keeping her face from twitching wasn't strenuous; the main difficulty was trying not to revert to the usual immature, childish accent she adopted when speaking to the Holy Lord. "Our allies were scant and fairweather, and our enemies countless and terrible. In the face of such insurmountable adversity, you led Crystal Tear on the frontlines, risking life and limb for my people and I. We had little to give to a hero of your stature, yet you fought bravely for our sakes."
She turned her palm towards the ceiling and directed the arm in Cerabrate's direction. "You were the Draconic Kingdom's champion when we had precious few to call upon. Fierce Flash, Sir Cerabrate, what would you ask of us? Let it not be known that we refuse to repay those who strive for the well-being of their fellows!"
All in all, the whole bit was a farce. Not her—admittedly very conflicted—gratitude, but the Crown had long since settled the question of back pay and rewards with the adamantite party. Five-hundred platinum: far from enough, though was any amount worth one's life and that of their comrades?
The air circulating throughout the throne room thickened with a heavy intent, and Draudillon carefully avoided turning to glance at her beloved.
"Serving the people is its own reward, Your Majesty," Cerabrate's eyes flicked towards her right where the angel exerted their presence, then back to her feet. "How can we demand a reward for doing what righteousness commands of us? To follow Her Majesty's noble example, to emulate the diligence of her servants… we desire nothing else."
Murmurs of admiration and grumbles of annoyance filled the hall. The response was certainly a 'hero' thing to say, and Draudillon saw more than a couple of young noblewomen swoon, but the majority of the other honorees appeared disgruntled at the affront—for that was what the implication was, intended or otherwise.
A situation where it was impossible to not step on somebody's foot. If Cerabrate asked for something outside of what had already been discussed, then he'd be reneging on the negotiated terms. If he asked for what they'd decided on, then he would be seen as shameless. Furthermore, doing what he did threw umbrage on the people who were awarded.
And then there were just those who simply disliked him. Being a public figure was a troublesome calling, huh…?
"Your words are an example to us all," she surveyed the room with a sharp eye, ending the ambient chatter. "But I insist."
"Then I submit myself to Her Majesty's wisdom!"
"Very well," Draudillon allowed herself a short lull before declaring with the appropriate gravitas. "Sir Cerabrate Locitas, I hereby appoint you as the Count of Sivas along with all the titles such a station entails."
She initially wanted to 'bestow' a barony, but after consulting Martin, that felt too much like a poorly veiled slap to the face.
"This servant humbly accepts the Queen's generosity," she absently noticed the pressure lessening as Cerabrate dropped his gaze to the floor. What kind of face was Yuriko making right now? "He will endeavor to show that Her Majesty's trust in him is not misplaced!"
"See that it is so," a squeal of delight came from somewhere in the crowd before being cut off. Her eyes tracked the source, and…
… Wasn't that one of the women who'd swooned earlier?
"I bid you rise, as Count Sivas," Rodica Orina Del Sivas. Small wonder the woman was so excited at the expectation of marrying the man—the image of a man, rather—she admired. "Know that your presence will always be welcome in Oriculia."
"You have my deepest gratitude, Your Majesty," both of them, the three of them including the angel, knew the offer of hospitality was a shamelessly blatant lie. She'd be surprised if he ever dared show his face in the castle after today. "I shall keep that forever in mind."
"Go in peace," Draudillon dismissed him, and the music swelled to grand applause as the people congratulated their hero. Finally, she thought, discipline keeping her spine from slipping into a slump. From the bottom of her soul, she valued the efforts of everyone in attendance today, but presiding over a ceremony for hours on end would strain anybody.
After some time, the audience dispersed: most courtiers returned to whatever they'd been doing before, and the others approached honorees to get the remaining paperwork sorted out.
'I hope Lord Sivas doesn't waste this opportunity,' she half-heartedly mused while watching the emptying hall. Cerabrate wasn't going to be managing the county, not when he lacked the pedigree and experience. Judging by Yuriko's estimates, he didn't have much room to acquire additional levels either,
Knowing that, she couldn't in good conscience actually put him in charge of Sivas County when the family currently in charge was doing an adequate job. The recovery efforts were also going smoothly for a region that'd been so thoroughly subjugated by the beastmen.
It probably helped that Lord Vasile Ioan Del Sivas had sent his family to safety before the demihumans arrived. The county didn't have to wait for Yuriko to get around to resurrecting him for qualified leaders to take charge.
But because of what he'd undergone, Lord Sivas had leapt to accept her offer of having Cerabrate marry into an eligible noble house. He could 'retire' so to speak, while his eldest daughter, and his family by extension, would remain the true lords and ladies of the land. Additionally, House Sivas would get to introduce the seed of a relatively mighty champion to their bloodline.
Despite Draudillon's distaste for the Holy Lord, treating him like a stallion for breeding sat ill with her, even considering the long-term benefits the arrangement would bring to the kingdom. She would've accepted presenting him with magic items, so it was surprising when Cerabrate had agreed to the proposition during discussions preceding the ceremony. Weren't adventurers supposed to be 'free-spirited'?
'Well,' the image of House Sivas's brown-haired scioness squeeing at Cerabrate's elevation to the peerage flashed across her mind. Marriage to an obsessed admirer was… 'All's well that ends well?'
If the dragon queen felt slightly bad for Cerabrate, none of it showed on her face.
"That took forever," Yuriko grumbled and threw themselves over her lap after Martin begged off to straighten out some zoning details with one of the temples. "You used to do this a lot?"
"Not as often as you're thinking," she rubbed their back. "But they're not rare occurrences. Recognizing talented people for their achievements is important for development, you see."
"Like quest rewards," the angel rolled off and fell flat to the foot of the throne.
"Like quest rewards," Draudillon nodded in agreement. There was some missing political nuance, but close enough. "Hm… wouldn't 'milestone' or 'achievement' rewards be more accurate?"
"Huh," her beloved got up from the ground, brushed the dust off their knees—the throne room did not have dust—and considered the question for a second. "Yeah, I guess they would!"
Yuriko leaned against the armrest of the throne. Together, for a brief period of calm, they stared out the windows where the last remnants of orange sunlight shone through.
Far out in the distance, the festive energy of the past few weeks could still be heard. The thoroughfares of Oriculo were starting to thin out, but she had the feeling that the celebrations were going to last a while. For good reason, she empathized.
"You have that look in your eyes again," Draudillon gave them a look. "Okay, not that one."
She huffed. "I'm fine."
"I know you are," Yuriko replied simply. "It's weird, right? That it's only been four months since we met."
The angel arched their neck with a hum and stared up at the ceiling. "A lot of stuff changed since then. Everything's just moving so… fast. We'll be going on another trip again soon too."
"Little time for contemplation," Draudillon murmured, closing, reopening her eyes. "One task to the next, with hardly a pause in between. Life doesn't stop for anyone, but that's the case for everyone, isn't it? Just to varying degrees."
"The more you can do, the more you end up having to do," Yuriko quipped as they pulled her up by the hand. "I'll cheer you up though!"
"Oh? Do you think yourself so capable? I have it on good authority that I'm difficult to inspirit."
Her beloved laughed.
Once upon a time, when she was small and the world was big in its beautiful boundlessness, great-grandfather had touched upon the nature of movement and how all things oscillated in a wave-like fashion on levels that required specialized magic to observe. He hadn't gone into much detail, and the factoid had never struck her as important enough to justify research expenditures. Nothing that couldn't produce an immediate edge did.
However, for some inexplicable reason, she suddenly recalled a passing statement on musical instruments; that the richness of their sounds came from overlapping waves, each different in their resonation, yet all unified in euphony.
This was like that, she figured, but exquisite in a way that defied description. Harmonics that would never be found, could never exist within the verses of mortal music. A timbre: subtly stark in the alienness of form—perfection of function found through the realization of aesthetic truth.
The body and soul of a flame-wreathed, light-crowned seraph. The heart and mind of a human who cared too much for their own good.
'Gods, what did I do to deserve you?'
Yuriko's laughter gradually waned into giggles. "You look happier though?"
"Hmph," an Empyrean held the door open for them; her Royal Guards had learned to quietly leave the pair to themselves after particularly lengthy gatherings.
"You are!"
"As you say—" She felt a foot tap her butt.
'Don't kick my rear in the hallways,' Draudillon sighed and casted a baleful gaze upon Yuriko. "Stop."
"No!" The angel raised their sandaled foot, leg bent at the knee and tried to repeat the childish act. Draudillon grabbed them by the ankle before they could, throwing off their balance. "A-Ah! Let me go! Dra-Drau, hey!"
"Turnabout is fair play," Draudillon casually answered, raising her free hand and swinging down hard on the angel's rear with a loud, satisfying smack. This much was far from causing them harm—
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a dumbfounded castle attendant staring, mouth ajar, from the corner of the hallway.
"Excuse us," her skin grew hot even while Yuriko's cheeks tinted.
The castle attendant bowed their head with a stuttered apology and speedily walked away on fearful feet.
As if in sync, they turned to look at each other once the attendant was out of sight. Draudillon dropped her beloved's foot. She didn't want to imagine what kind of deviant rumors were going to circulate throughout Oriculia now.
"This is your fault, by the way," Yuriko said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Wh-What?!"
AN: So... yeah, it's been over a month. Everyone, I'm really sorry for the delay, and next chapter will probably also be slow in coming because this is finals season. In return, I've commissioned some amazing art from cqtlatte on Twitter, but you'll have to head to Ao3 to see it since this site doesn't handle images.
Thank you all for your continued readership!