Konosuba 500

by AitchBerry

500 years after the Demon King's defeat, the world faces ruin again! Papitas, a clumsy martial artist with ridiculous strength, teams up with Lalemana Dustiness, a hot-tempered noble, to fulfill a prophecy. From bickering to battling, their chaotic quest to recruit the elusive Sapphire Spirit spirals into absurd adventures, quirky allies, and over-the-top battles!

4. Chapter 3: A Captive Noble! – Part 1

Note: This story's title is Konosuba 500 and is being crossposted on several fan writing sites. Where available, each chapter comes with a simple 1

Arcanletia was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, a testament to the deep winter that had settled over the city. The rooftops were covered in white, and the streets sparkled under the pale sunlight, reflecting the untouched beauty of the season. The air was crisp, yet not biting, creating a picturesque winter scene that was both lively and serene.

The Axis Cathedral was perched at the city's highest point, its spires reaching toward the heavens, visible from almost anywhere in the city.

Despite the snow-covered streets, the city remained vibrant, with carriages rolling by and merchants setting up shop, their goods protected from the elements by makeshift canopies. The holy water, immune to the cold, flowed steadily through the city's aqueducts, a constant, reassuring presence. It was more than just water—it was the city's lifeblood, a sacred force that kept the city safe from the Demon Queen, its holy power so potent that not even the Demon Queen Army generals could set foot on the city.

The streets were alive with people, bundled up in warm clothing yet moving about with the ease of those accustomed to the cold. Children laughed and played in the snow; their breath visible in the crisp air as they chased each other through the streets. Here and there, you could see people using magic to thaw the snow from their doorsteps or clear paths for carriages that rolled by their wheels crunching over the packed snow.

In the heart of the city, the Royal Residence stood as a testament to the royalty that had ruled from this so-called temporary capital for centuries. Although not a castle, the luxurious mansion was a grand structure in its own right, with a sprawling garden and ornate architecture that spoke of the wealth and power of the royal family.

On the garden, a young woman was building a large snowman. Her cheeks flushed a bright rosy hue from the cold, which only served to highlight her striking features. She had radiant blonde hair that gleamed even under the overcast sky, cut stylishly to just below her chin, framing her face perfectly. Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled with a mix of determination and joy as she rolled a large snowball across the ground. Long, elegant eyelashes fluttered each time she blinked away a stray snowflake. Her lips, a natural soft pink, curved into a satisfied smile as the snowman began to take shape.

She was dressed in a chic, fashionable winter outfit—a tailored coat of deep navy blue, lined with soft fur at the collar and cuffs, and a pair of matching boots that hugged her legs just right. Her gloves, though now covered in ice and frost, were a stylish contrast in white, detailed with delicate embroidery.

"Lady Lalemana, please go back inside—you'll get sick!" a maid called out, hurrying over to her. The maid's concern was evident as she watched the young woman lift a sizable snowball.

"I'll be fine," the young woman replied between breaths. "Just a little more, and it'll be perfect." She carefully placed the snowball atop the others, completing the snowman. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

"Lady Dustiness," came a sterner voice. Turning around, she saw a knight approaching, his armor gleaming even in the subdued light. "Please return indoors and warm up. You know we can't risk your health," he said firmly.

With a resigned sigh, the young woman cast one last look at her snowman before heading back inside the Royal Residence. She pulled off her gloves, revealing her well-manicured nails painted a soft, pastel pink. Blowing warm air onto her hands, she slowly began to feel the warmth return to her fingers. The knight did not leave her side until she was safely seated in front of a large fireplace, its flames crackling merrily.

"Lulú!" another voice called out just as the knight left the room. "Good heavens, where have you been? I've been looking for you all morning." A woman entered, her presence commanding yet graceful. She appeared to be in her early forties, though her youthful features made it hard to tell. Her long, golden hair cascaded over her shoulders in elegant waves, mirroring her daughter's but longer and more mature in style. Her eyes, the same deep blue, held a mix of concern and mild exasperation.

"Mom, I told you to stop calling me that outside our wing," Lalemana replied, her tone half-annoyed, half-resigned. "I'm Lalemana out here," she insisted, shooting her mother a sharp look, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

"Stop being such a pain for the staff," her mother teased as she sat beside Lalemana, whacking her softly on the head. "Why are you so eager to be out in the cold anyway?"

Before Lalemana could answer, a maid entered with a tray of steaming drinks. She handed one to each of them with a bow.

"I was building a snowman," Lalemana replied, her eyes fixed on the fire, watching as the flames danced. "The biggest one I could, all the way in the corner of the garden. Maybe she'll be able to see it from her window." Her voice trailed off, tinged with a quiet sadness.

Her mother placed an arm around her shoulder and offered a reassuring smile. "She'll get better soon. You'll see. Don't worry so much."

They sat together in comfortable silence for a while, letting the warmth of the fire slowly bring color back to Lalemana's face. As her rosy cheeks faded to their usual hue, she sighed, "I guess I never realized just how much of a prisoner I am here until recently," she said softly.

"Don't talk like that," her mother interrupted gently, her eyes locking with Lalemana's. "You have something important to do, something only you can do." Her gaze was intent, but Lalemana didn't respond. She stood abruptly, causing her mother to look at her with concern. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just going for a walk. I won't leave the residence, don't worry." Lalemana waved a hand dismissively and headed out the door, the knight stationed outside the room immediately falling into step behind her.

The knight's armor clinked softly behind her, a constant reminder of the ever-present guard as they reached the second floor. Lalemana had long since given up on trying engaging them in conversation. She knew most of the knights resented her, viewing her as nothing more than a burden. The thought of trying to make even small talk felt pointless.

Finally, she reached the large balcony on the third floor, the snowman in the garden below still visible.

Leaning against the railing, Lalemana pulled a small box from under her coat, taking out a cigarette. With a snap of her fingers, she lit it with a flicker of magic and took a long drag. Exhaling, she glanced at the knight standing just inside the doorway, his expression as rigid as always.

"This will kill me eventually, you know?" she remarked with a smirk, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Aren't you supposed to stop me from doing stupid things like this?"

The knight didn't respond, only standing there as stoically as ever.

Lalemana turned her gaze outward, looking over the snow-covered rooftops of Arcanletia. Guards patrolled every corner of the residence, and she knew they had eyes on her from almost every direction. Privacy was a luxury she had never known—not that it had bothered her much before. But now… everything felt different.

Yet, beyond the fence of the royal compound, life continued as usual. Nobles strolled the streets, carriages rolled by, trolleys silently passed by, and merchants peddled their goods. The city buzzed with energy, and she couldn't help but feel envious of the freedom the people below enjoyed.

"Let's go back inside, Lady Dustiness," the knight finally said, breaking the silence.

She took one last puff and glanced back at him, the cigarette almost burned to the filter. "Yeah, I'll be going alright," she muttered, though her voice held a hint of defiance.

The knight watched her closely as the cigarette in her hand seemed to smoke far more than it should. He squinted, barely able to see her through the smoke. "Wait..." he finally realized something was off.

"You're a bit slow," she said with a mischievous grin. Glowing symbols suddenly appearing on the cigarette butt. With a flick, she tossed it to the ground, and in an instant, a thick cloud of smoke enveloped the balcony, spilling into the garden below.

"Lady Dustiness!" he yelled, waving his sword in an attempt to clear the air. "Not again!"

With a frustrated grunt, the knight waved his sword, clearing the smoke. But by the time the air was clear, Lalemana had vanished.

He cursed under his breath, pulling out a flare gun and firing it into the sky. A puff of blue smoke bloomed overhead, signaling to the other guards that the 'Most Valuable Princess' had slipped away, again.

Alarm bells rang out sharply across the Royal Residence, echoing throughout the city. Knights and soldiers immediately sprang into action, their armor clanking as they rushed about the grounds. Little time passed before puffs of smoke rose over the city's heavily guarded entrances, signaling the alert. The gates were now on lockdown, and more puffs of smoke began dotting the sky as every possible exit from the city was sealed. No one, especially not the MVP, was leaving unnoticed.

Meanwhile, several blocks away from the Royal Residence, a manhole cover quietly lifted. From it emerged a large figure draped in a heavy winter coat, softly setting the cover back in place with a soft thud. "That should keep them busy for a while," murmured the figure, a scarf obscuring her face. Pulling down the scarf, the figure revealed herself to be none other than Lalemana, disguised in layers upon layers of clothes to hide her identity and figure.

She tugged her coat tighter and hurried toward one of the main streets, her breath coming out in labored puffs. "Ugh... this is exhausting," she sighed, clearly struggling under the weight of her disguise. "This is going to take a while," she muttered under her breath, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure no one was following.

A while later, chaos reigned outside the Axis Cathedral. The main gate was choked with a massive crowd of believers. The cathedral grounds were surrounded by a large, ornate metal gate, beyond which lay the lush gardens and imposing structure of the Axis Cathedral itself. A row of knights stood outside the gate, blocking the flow of people from entering.

"Let us pass!", "We'll be late, move out of the way!", "No one is above Lady Aqua!" The crowd's angry shouts rang out in unison, their frustration mounting as the knights held their ground.

The leader of the garrison, a heavily armored man with a distinctive scar running down his cheek, raised his voice above the shouting, "We are here on official royal business!" he barked, his voice cutting through the clamor. "We're searching for someone, and we have reason to believe they've taken refuge inside the cathedral. Let us pass, and we'll be on our way—!"

But before he could say more, a booming voice interrupted. "What's this commotion?"

The captain groaned internally as a man dressed in priestly robes strode confidently toward the gate, flanked by a group of nuns and priests who carried large sacks over their shoulders. His long, flowing robes flapped dramatically in the cold breeze, and his thick mustache twirled majestically as he surveyed the scene with gleeful arrogance.

"The Royal Army may not interfere with the holy grounds of Lady Aqua's church!" the man declared, his voice resonating with over-the-top zeal. His followers cheered wildly, as if he'd just delivered the punchline of a brilliant joke. "You know the rules! Lady Aqua's faithful shall not be impeded by the whims of some misplaced knights!"

"Archbishop Auberon!" The captain's frustration was palpable as he tried to remain calm. "We are looking for the MVP! Based on what happened in a previous incident, we have strong reasons to believe this person is here! Let us search the grounds, and we'll be on our way!"

Archbishop Auberon's eyes twinkled with mischief as he crossed his arms. "That person, whoever they may be, is free to do as they please. The Axis Church teaches forgiveness and freedom above all else! We do not deny anyone their desires. And if they are here, they are under our protection!"

The crowd roared again, and the nuns behind him looked positively giddy, tomatoes and powdered slime at the ready.

Archbishop Auberon smirked, twirling his mustache with glee. "If the person you seek is here, I'll personally ensure their safe return to you." He leaned forward with a sly grin. "That solves your problem, right?"

The captain pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "N-no! The last thing we need is for them to meet any of your… followers. Please, just let us search…"

Archbishop Auberon only laughed heartily. "No one sets foot in the Axis Cathedral unless they see the light of Lady Aqua!" The zeal in his voice only made the crowd wilder. His eyes gleamed mischievously as he turned to his nuns, who were eagerly preparing their projectiles. "Well then," he said, barely concealing a chuckle, "you'd best leave now before things get... messy."

Sighing in defeat, the captain motioned to his men. "Let them through," he muttered, stepping aside as the crowd of Axis followers swarmed past. As the wave of believers surged into the cathedral, a large woman in a winter coat slipped through the crowd unnoticed.

The captain sat down heavily in the snow, rubbing his temples. "Get comfortable, people" he grumbled to his knights, "we'll be here for a while."

Lalemana tried to pry away from the crowd, her true objective was the dormitories for the priests, there is the reason she came all the way through, but no matter how politely, or impolitely, she tried to make her way, the crowd wouldn't budge, and soon enough she found herself inside the cathedral.

She sat quietly near the back, trying to blend in, ready to take the first chance to escape. Her heart was racing—this wasn't the first time she'd escape her escort, won't be long before protection around her increases. But within these walls, she felt safe. The royal family's agreement with the Axis Church meant no royal official could step foot inside the Axis Cathedral, making it the only place in Arcanletia where she could truly hide.

Unfortunately, 'safe' was a relative term when it came to the Axis Church. Mass had just started, and Lalemana already felt like she'd stepped into another dimension.

"Brothers and sisters!" Archbishop Auberon began, arms raised high, "Lady Aqua teaches us the greatest lesson of all—forgiveness! But more than that, she teaches us to never take responsibility for our actions! Everything is someone else's fault!"

The crowd cheered wildly, nodding in agreement.

"If you were rude to someone today, that's on them! If you forgot something important, blame your genes! Lady Aqua will forgive all!"

Lalemana's eyes widened in disbelief. Was this… normal?

He continued, his sermon growing more absurd by the minute. "And when you die, brothers and sisters, you will be reborn in the holy land of Japan! There, your hobbies will be embraced! Your perversions, your laziness—all will be celebrated!"

The crowd was practically vibrating with excitement, shouting, "Praise Aqua!"

Lalemana tugged at her coat's collar nervously as the chaos of the mass unfolded before her. She'd heard about the Axis Church's eccentricities but seeing them firsthand was overwhelming. The cathedral, with its high vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows, seemed like the perfect place for solemn worship. However, the reality inside was quite the opposite.

The seats were packed with rowdy followers, some standing on the benches, others lounging with their legs kicked up, and a few lying down across the seats as if they were sunbathing. The cathedral was alive with activity, with people chatting, shouting, and laughing all at once.

Archbishop Auberon continued, waving his arms theatrically, "If you have desires, embrace them! If you have vices, nurture them! If you want to sleep until noon, then do it! Blame society, blame the world, but never blame yourselves!"

The congregation erupted into cheers, and some people were even dancing in the aisles. One man was holding up a large, colorful banner that read [LONG LIVE LADY AQUA!] while another was twirling glow sticks as if he were at a concert.

Lalemana blinked in disbelief as she watched the bizarre display unfold. The entire mass was like nothing she'd ever seen—there were no hymns, no solemn prayers, no moments of quiet reflection. Instead, it was a full-blown celebration of everything strange, chaotic, and, frankly, irresponsible. Axis followers were clapping, singing songs about slacking off, and shouting things like "I'll never do another day of work!" and "I'm blaming my parents for everything from now on!"

At one point, a nun carrying a basket of pastries walked down the aisle, casually offering snacks to the congregants. "They're sweetened with powdered slime!" she chirped, as though that was the most important thing in the world.

Archbishop Auberon's voice boomed once more. "If you failed your studies, brothers and sisters, fear not! You're not to blame! The system failed you! If you skipped work, it's because work is a curse! Lady Aqua herself forgives you for embracing her path!"

"I quit my job last week!" a man shouted from the middle of the crowd, pumping his fist in the air as the congregation cheered him on.

"Praise Aqua! You've taken the first step toward freedom!" Archbishop Auberon pointed at the man with pride, encouraging the crowd to give him a round of applause.

Lalemana could barely contain her bewilderment. Her head was spinning as she tried to make sense of it all. This is the Axis Church? The place that so many make fun off? She had expected something outlandish, but this was a whole new level of absurdity.

She shook her head, trying to focus. She came here looking for someone, not to get caught up in this madness.

"And remember, brothers and sisters, there are no responsibilities here! Everything that goes wrong in your life is because of others! Society, genetics, even the weather—it's all out of your control! So why worry? Lady Aqua has freed us from guilt!"

The crowd roared with approval again, and Lalemana found herself edging closer to the door, feeling the absurdity of the situation pulling her in like a whirlwind.

But before she could leave, Archbishop Auberon pointed directly at her. "And you, young traveler in the heavy coat! Yes, you!" he called, his eyes locking onto hers. "Come, join us in the light of Aqua! Cast aside your burdens and be reborn as an Axis follower! You, too, can be free from all responsibility!"

Lalemana froze, feeling the eyes of the entire congregation on her. She clutched her coat tighter around herself, her mind racing. What have I gotten myself into?

Not wanting to cause a scene, she quietly returned to her seat. She glanced up at the chaotic display in front of her—people were still shouting praises to Aqua, dancing in the aisles, and indulging in the oddest 'worship' rituals she had ever seen. It can't go on for much longer, she reassured herself. It's already been an hour, right?

Part 2

Three hours later...

The streets surrounding the Axis Cathedral were filled with streams of people heading home, their breath fogging in the icy air. Snow fell lightly from the sky, the moon casting a silvery glow over the scene. The air was biting, colder than it had been earlier, seeping through the layers of Lalemana's winter coats.

But the cold wasn't the worst of her problems. It was the headache—a pounding, unforgiving ache at her temples that seemed to only get worse with each passing minute. How do they believe in this stuff? Three solid hours of the most absurd sermon she had ever endured left her feeling like her brain had been scrambled. These people may be even worse than the Demon Queen! She was not one to exaggerate, but the bizarre teachings she was subjected to during mass were enough to make anyone reconsider the perils of humanity.

Previously, she had snuck away from the guards, wandered the city streets, and somehow ended up at the Axis Cathedral. That time, she'd bumped into a young priest who, despite being as strange as Archbishop Auberon, was a little more... approachable. Or maybe just less fanatical. She had no idea why he had taken an interest in her, but he had. And after some weird sermon, she'd befriended him. He had no clue who she really was, of course—she came off as some runaway noble. That suited her just fine.

Approaching the dormitories, Lalemana sighed. The last thing she needed was more chaos from the Axis Church, but there was something else on her mind tonight. Despite her pounding headache and the urge to flee, she had to find him again. He was her one connection in the Axis Church, and no matter how bizarre things got, he was still a friend—well, as much of a friend as an eccentric Axis priest could be.

In a room of the upper floors of the dormitories, a young man was leaning back in his chair, a lamp beside him as he read. The room was small and cluttered, with clothes strewn about, books stacked haphazardly on a desk, and a bed that looked like it hadn't been made in weeks.

His eyes glinted mischievously as he murmured to himself, flipping through the pages of a magazine. "Oh yes... this is very... educational."

The dim light flickered over his unkempt hair, slightly long and uneven, and the beginnings of a scraggly beard that clung to his chin like a teenager trying to look older than he was.

Suddenly, a knock at the door startled him. He yelped, almost dropping the magazine and narrowly avoiding knocking over the lamp.

"Can't you read?" he called, his voice muffled as he tried to shove the magazine under his desk. "There's a 'do not disturb' sign out there for a reason!"

The knocks came again, this time louder and more insistent.

"All right, all right!" he grumbled, getting up to open the door. "This better be important. I'm doing valuable church business!" His grumbling stopped the moment he opened the door and saw who was standing there.

A towering woman, bundled in a massive winter coat, stood in the doorway. Arthur's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. "L-Lady Aqua has finally answered my prayers—" he began to say; only to be shoved backward as the woman pushed her way inside.

Before he could finish the thought, the woman began peeling off her layers. His face turned bright red; hands clasped together as if in a prayer. "H-hold on! I mean, I know you're eager, but maybe we should get to know each other—"

The words died in his throat as the bulky coat fell away, revealing not a curvy goddess, but a slim, athletic figure underneath. His shoulders slumped. "Oh... it's just you again."

Lalemana, now seated on the bed, gave him a sharp look, "What's that supposed to mean? Is that how you greet a beautiful girl who comes to see you?" she huffed, sitting on his bed. She stretched her arms out wide, arching her back dramatically, causing her coat to slip off her shoulders, exposing her slim waist and making her chest more prominent.

He adjusted his glasses, trying not to gawk too obviously, but failed miserably. "You're… uh, pretty, sure. But you're a bit too... thin for my tastes."

Lalemana's eyebrow twitched in irritation. "You know, it's because you say things like that, women avoid you, Arthur" she retorted, "oh, and because you're a priest of the Axis Church."

She laid on her stomach, propping her chin on her hands and kicking her feet up in the air, trying to strike a pose she thought would look cute. But her legs moved awkwardly, her position resembling a tangled cat more than anything seductive.

Arthur let out a huff. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" he asked, hastily trying to hide the magazine he had been reading earlier. "Didn't you say you were going to make up with your family or something?"

Lalemana shrugged, trying again to act nonchalant and alluring, though it just came off as bizarre. "Yeah, but you said I was welcome here whenever."

"Yes, within reasonable hours!" he protested, lifting his arms. "I'm a valuable priest here. Who knows what kind of sensitive information could be lying around on my desk?"

"You were reading an adult magazine," she said flatly, pointing at the one he had tried to hide. "There's another one on top of your closet, one under your pillow, and another under your bed."

His face flushed bright red as she listed his secret stash. "B-being true to one's desires is the most important thing! It's what Lady Aqua teaches us!" he said, raising his hands dramatically.

Lalemana cringed, remembering the ridiculous things Archbishop Auberon had preached during mass.

"But seriously, why are you here?" he asked, dropping his tone to something more sincere as he leaned back in his chair. "Of course, the church will expect some... compensation." He rifled through a drawer, pulling out a sheet of paper. "You could sign this, or, well, the church is always in need of donations."

Lalemana didn't even glance at him. Instead, she stared out the window, watching the snow falling softly over the city. "Last time I left, I overheard you were pretty talented at healing magic..." she said, her voice soft, her thoughts clearly somewhere else.

He straightened up, adjusting his glasses with a proud smile. "You bet! Probably the best after Archbishop Auberon! But you don't look hurt. What are you really after?" He leaned forward, his observant side kicking in.

"There's someone," she said slowly, choosing her words with care, "in the Royal Residence who's been needing special care for a few months. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it?" Lalemana's gaze turned dead serious as she looked at him.

"I can't confirm or deny that!" he replied with a big smile, though his eyes gave him away—she had hit the mark.

"Could you at least—"

"No can do, sorry!" he interrupted her mid-sentence. "That could get me in a lot of trouble, you know? Axis priests aren't even supposed to be able to enter the Royal Residence to begin with." He scratched the back of his head, his eyes shifting away from hers. "But this explains a lot about you, though," he added with the same gentle smile.

She leaned closer, her eyes scanning the floor. "I need to know!" Lalemana pleaded, her voice soft but intense, before locking eyes with him again. Her striking blue eyes shimmered with determination.

Arthur sighed, avoiding her gaze as much as possible—especially now that Lalemana had shifted her position, attempting to sit in a way that accentuated her chest. She thought it looked seductive, but to Arthur, she came off like a weird dork trying too hard.

His face flushed. He was about to say something when—

"Hey, Artie, you done with those magazines yet? I wanna read them again!" Archbishop Auberon suddenly barged in, catching Lalemana off guard. She yelped and covered herself, her face bright red.

Arthur frantically gestured toward Lalemana, desperately trying to cover up the scattered clothes and magazines. "Uh, Archbishop Auberon! Can you come back later?" he stammered, clearly panicked.

With Lalemana blushing furiously, the room scattered with clothes, and Arthur's frantic attempts to cover up, the scene gave an impression far from innocent. Archbishop Auberon's hearty laugh didn't help matters.

"Oh… oooooooh!" Archbishop Auberon's eyes widened as a knowing smile crept onto his face. "Didn't think you had it in you, boy! Congratulations! And she's quite the catch, too!" He slapped Arthur on the back, laughing heartily.

Lalemana's face flushed even redder. "As if!" she screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at both priests. "I wouldn't let this creep lay a finger on me! I'm still a maiden of noble birth!"

Archbishop Auberon raised an eyebrow, looking at her more intently. "Hmm," he murmured, squinting a bit. "Now that I think about it… haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

Arthur looked confused, "Um, Archbishop Auberon?" he asked cautiously. He had never seen his mentor this serious.

The older priest stroked his mustache. "Yes… yes…" he muttered, the realization dawning on him. His eyes sparkled with recognition.

"Archbishop Auberon?" Arthur pressed again, his concern growing.

But Archbishop Auberon waved away his worries with a chuckle. "Don't mind it, Artie." Then, turning to Lalemana, he said, "Miss, it's getting rather late, isn't it? Shouldn't you be heading home?"

Lalemana's eyes darted toward Arthur, silently pleading for help. But all Arthur could do was offer a sheepish shrug, there was no arguing with him.

Huffing, she gathered her coats and rushed out of the room, her face still burning with embarrassment. She didn't even bother to say goodbye.

As she made her way toward the exit of the cathedral grounds, she heard a voice call from behind her.

"Lady Dustiness, may I have a word?"

Her heart dropped. Had her cover been blown? She turned around slowly to find Archbishop Auberon standing under a small lamppost, his face illuminated by its soft glow, a knowing yet gentle smile playing on his lips.

"How did you…?" she began, but her voice cracked.

"Please," Archbishop Auberon said softly, his tone far more serious than before. "There's no need to be frightened. I mean you no harm."

Lalemana's expression turned icy. "What do you want?" she asked sharply. "Am I supposed to join the Axis Church now? Or do you want a bribe?"

Archbishop Auberon's serene expression faltered. "Hey! I said I meant no harm!" he exclaimed, waving his hands defensively. "You may think you know your importance, but you clearly don't understand it fully. These escapades aren't helping anyone."

Important, special, chosen—yeah, I've heard it all my life, and all it's ever meant is chains. Lalemana thought bitterly, narrowing her eyes.

Archbishop Auberon sighed deeply, the cold air turning his breath into mist. He pointed toward a garden beyond the dormitories. "There's another entrance over there, hardly used. You should be able to sneak out that way. Every other exit is guarded."

Lalemana bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then turned to leave without another word. But just before stepping away, she hesitated. Without turning to face him, she spoke in a shaky voice. "I came here to find out how t—"

"My lips are sealed," Archbishop Auberon interrupted gently, but firmly. She turned back to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, her frustration evident.

"It's not because of the king or something like that," Archbishop Auberon explained, his tone softening. "It's because of her. She made it clear—she doesn't want anyone, least of all you, to know."

Her face fell, and without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away. The snow crunched under her boots as she pulled her coat tighter, trying to fend off the cold.

Back in the Royal Residence, things were getting tense. Lalemana had been missing since the early afternoon, and the search throughout the city had yielded no results. Every location she frequented had been checked, and roadblocks were set up. Carriages, trolleys, subway stations—everything was being inspected, even trains leaving the city. Entire garrisons of soldiers were stationed outside Axis Church facilities, leading to massive delays and disruptions.

Only one place remained unchecked: the Dustiness family wing, the only part of the Royal Residence where the Royal Guard couldn't enter without permission. A group of knights stood in front of the imposing double doors but were met by the steadfast maids inside, determined not to let them through.

"Let us in! We work for the king!" one knight barked, his frustration growing. "We've searched everywhere else—just step aside!" shouted another.

But the maids stood firm, expressions like they could cut steel.

"She's not here!" one maid declared, glaring daggers at the knights. "You brutes have no right to violate Lady Lalemana's sanctuary!" another one retorted, her arms crossed, her glare sharp enough to pierce armor. Another maid chimed in, "I recognize some of you as Axis Cultists! Are you here to peek at the young lady's undergarments?"

The knights found themselves utterly defeated by the maids' fierce resistance, flinching under their accusations. It wasn't until a high-ranking officer of the Royal Guard appeared that the situation calmed down. The man—a towering, bald figure with a thick beard—approached, speaking politely yet firmly.

"Excuse me, Lady Marcella," he addressed Lalemana's mother, who was casually sipping tea amidst the commotion. "We haven't informed the king about this yet. I know you value your daughter's freedom, but orders from above forbid her disappearance from being ignored. I humbly ask you to allow me, and only me, to enter and confirm she's not here. I promise, under your supervision, to act with nothing but propriety."

With a resigned sigh, Lady Marcella signaled the maids to step aside, though they continued to glare daggers at the knights. "Very well. Follow me."

The bald knight, Major Bertram, gave a respectful nod before entering the ornate halls of the Dustiness wing. The maids stayed close, their glares never leaving him as he moved through the grand space, unable to even touch a door without several eyes watching him.

The Dustiness wing, though tucked away, was no less opulent than the rest of the Royal Residence. The hallways were adorned with gilded wooden panels, candle sconces casting soft, warm light against the crimson and gold tapestries. Rich carpets muffled every footstep, and the entire space had a refined elegance fitting for nobility.

Returning to the main hall after checking all the rooms, Beltram said. "If you'll allow me, ma'am, I'd like to check her bedroom too."

Her room was hidden—an elaborate precaution taken for her safety. The entrance was hidden behind a staircase leading underground, where a thick metallic door led to the final hallway to her bedroom.

Lady Marcella sighed, her patience wearing thin, but motioned forward. The maids grumbled but followed closely behind as they descended into a long, lavishly decorated hallway. The underground passage was just as beautiful as the wing above, wooden walls, and expensive-looking carpets that stretched on.

Meanwhile, Lalemana had returned to her room just minutes earlier, through her private bathroom. Where she'd constructed a secret tunnel leading to a higher level of the sewers, the only way she could move about without supervision.

After sneaking back, exhausted from a long day of eluding everyone, she took a quick bath, sweat and grime washing away as steam filled the room.

Lady Marcella knocked lightly on the door leading to the bedroom, "Lulú, dear? Are you in there?" she called softly; her tone soothing but with an edge that only a mother could deliver. "We've been looking for you all afternoon."

The door creaked open just as Lalemana, fresh from her bath, walked in from the other entrance. Both parties froze in place. Lalemana stood in her room, dripping wet, with a towel barely covering her waist and another just about managing to shield her chest.

Lady Marcella opened the door wider, "As you can see, she's—" The words caught in her throat when she spotted her daughter, in all her freshly-bathed glory.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lalemana screamed, loud enough for the entire residence to hear.

Major Bertram, startled by the ear-piercing scream, instinctively stepped back. Before he could say anything, one of the maids hurled herself in front of him, blocking his eyes. The other maids followed, tackling him to the ground.

"Don't you dare look at Lady Lalemana!", "You pervert!", "Cover his eyes!"

"I didn't—! Wait! I apologize!" Bertram stammered, utterly embarrassed as he was dragged away by the enraged maids.

"Lalemana Silver-Blade Dustiness!" Lady Marcella exclaimed, swiftly shutting the door behind them. She turned back to her daughter with a smile, but her grip on her shoe was unmistakable. The dreaded shoe—the ultimate mom weapon, "You've had the entire royal guard scouring the city! Do you know how much trouble you've caused?"

Lalemana paled and sat on the floor, curling up defensively, "I was, uh… indisposed, mom. You know… uh, lady stuff." She fidgeted, unable to meet her mother's eyes.

Without a word, Lady Marcella whacked her daughter squarely on the head with the shoe, a large bump instantly forming. "You idiot! I told you to tell me when that… stuff happens!" she scolded, waving the shoe in the air.

"I-I'm sorry!" Lalemana whimpered, clutching her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

"That's it, young lady. You're not leaving this room without my permission!" her mother declared, turning towards the door.

"B-but...!" Lalemana tried to protest, but quickly fell silent under her mother's stern glare.

"Fine," her mother relented, exasperated. "Get dressed and come up for dinner. You can talk to her—briefly—but after that, you're under my watchful eye. Understood?"

Lalemana nodded quickly, her expression brightening, as she dashed to get dressed.

The royal guard's council chamber buzzed with frustration as a heated discussion was taking place. The heads of the guard, dressed in elaborate armor, sat in stern debate.

One man with a twirling mustache, his polished breastplate gleaming, slammed the table, his gauntleted hand sending shockwaves through the room. "We must increase security around her!" he bellowed, his voice matching the intensity of his action. "That girl cannot be allowed to roam unchecked!" His fist pounded the table again, nearly spilling the drinks set before the other guards. "No step without supervision!"

Another man, younger and clearly less experienced, adjusted his large round glasses as he interjected, "The future of our kingdom may depend on that girl!" His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up with a determined glare. "We need to get rid of those special privileges the Dustiness family has!"

Arguments flew around the room, bouncing between heavy-laden voices, each carrying different concerns: "She's a valuable asset, not a free-spirited princess!", "If we tighten the grip, she'll just wriggle free again!", "Her family's privileges have gone too far. This is a national security issue!"

General Brocken, the head of the Royal Guard, sat silently at the head of the table. An old warrior, his face was marked by deep lines of wisdom and battle. His graying hair was cropped close, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation as he sat with his elbows on the table and his hands covering his mouth.

Just as he seemed ready to speak, a younger officer at the far end raised his hand with a confident smile. "General, if I may…"

General Brocken gestured to him to continue.

"I believe my colleagues here are all looking at this the wrong way. The harder we push, the harder she'll push back." The young officer's armor, while plain, had a youthful shine to it.

Murmurs spread across the room.

"She's not some rabid prisoner," the young man continued, "and increasing guards or taking away privileges will only make her more rebellious. In fact, it'll make things worse."

The bald major, still recovering from his encounter with the maids earlier that day, groaned as he rubbed one of the bumps on his scalp. "What do you propose then? Giving her more liberties? That's out of the question, orders from above."

The young man grinned confidently, clasping his hands together. "Not more liberties… the illusion of more liberties." He stepped from his seat and paced the room, his boots clinking against the stone floor. "If my younger sister is anything to go by, teenage girls hate being watched over by grown men. They want their privacy respected. If we place a lady knight with her, she might feel less restricted, but in truth, we'd have even closer supervision."

Several guards murmured in response:

"Maybe he has a point. It could reduce friction…", "Or it could lead to even more trouble if they bond too closely.", "I'm not sure. This could be risky."

The murmurs died down as the general lifted his hand, his sharp eyes boring into the young man. "Do we have anyone capable of such a task?" his voice was gravelly.

"As a matter of fact," the young man responded, a triumphant grin on his face, "there's a lady knight in the lower ranks. She's from a low-ranking noble family and around the same age as the MVP—uh, I mean Lady Lalemana."

More murmurs followed:

"If she's from the lower ranks, she may not be prepared for this…", "But if she's the right age, that could be exactly what we need.", "Risky, but we're running out of options…"

The general raised his hand again, silencing the room. "We'll give your idea a chance. Call for her immediately."

"Yes, sir!" The young man saluted, then hurried out of the room.

Meanwhile, Lalemana sneaked down the quiet halls. Dressed in a pink nightgown, her bare feet made no sound as she hurried along the carpeted floors. She moved with purpose, flipping light switches on and off as she briskly made her way through the dimly lit corridors.

The residence was still, almost eerie, the silence broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards. The lamps cast soft, golden light across the hallways, highlighting portraits of past royalty and intricate tapestries.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a large set of double doors. The ornate wood, carved with the royal family's crest, seemed to tower over her. Lalemana crouched down, peering at the narrow gap between the doors and the floor. A faint light was visible.

With a small sigh, she sat cross-legged in front of the doors and leaned forward, resting her head against the door. "Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and tender. "How are you?"

She paused, waiting for any sign of response. There was none, but Lalemana continued speaking as though someone were right there. "I had the craziest day today. You wouldn't believe it!" A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she scratched her chin absentmindedly. "Oh, yeah. Did you see the snowman?"

Part 3

A loud alarm woke Lalemana the next morning.

Waving her hand in the direction of the noise, she silenced the alarm and flicked on the dim lights, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dull glow. The ceiling above her looked the same as always, ornate, with golden accents, but familiar to the point of boredom. She stretched lazily before swinging her legs out of bed. That's when her still groggy eyes caught sight of a figure in armor standing next to her bed.

"G-good morning, milady—"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lalemana screamed so loud it nearly rattled the walls.

"M-Milady, please! I'm your new escort! No need to be alarmed!" The lady knight, clad in armor, raised her hands in a panic, trying to defuse the situation.

But Lalemana was already out of bed, holding a sword, her hands trembling but ready to fight. "Royal guards aren't allowed in here! You're an assassin, a spy—or worse, some kind of pervert!" she stammered, wielding her sheathed blade.

"N-no, I swear! Your mother gave me special permission to be here!" The knight instinctively moved her hand to the hilt of her own sword, though she didn't want to draw it.

Now fully awake, Lalemana scrutinized the intruder. The knight was a bit taller than her, with sharp, angular features that hinted at distant roots. Her almond-shaped eyes were striking, their deep brown hue contrasting with her fair but warm-toned skin. Straight black hair framed her face, with neatly cut bangs just above her eyebrows. The rest of her hair was tied back into a ponytail, the tip resting neatly on her chest over her armor. She carried herself with a calm yet disciplined air, though the faint flush of panic on her face betrayed her nervousness.

Lalemana's eyes narrowed. "As if! My mom would never allow that! You've probably already gotten rid of her—poison, I bet! You're some invading foreigner! The shape of your eyes gives it away!" she drew her glowing blade and lunged, forcing the knight to parry hastily as Lalemana moved with unexpected speed.

"Milady, I'm Daisy Arlenfelt, daughter of Baronet Arlenfelt. I'm with the Royal Guard! They told me last night that I would be escorting you—" Daisy barely managed to deflect another blow, trying not to escalate the fight.

"Lies! On the honor of the Dustiness family, I will defeat you and avenge my mother!" Lalemana shouted, raising her sword for another attack.

But before the duel could continue, a firm voice interrupted them, "Avenge me for what, Lulú?"

Lalemana froze mid-swing, eyes wide in horror. Standing in the doorway was her mother, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"Ma'am!" Daisy shouted in surprise, freezing in place.

"M-Mom?!" Lalemana echoed, wide-eyed.

Lady Marcella sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Both of you, come upstairs. We need to talk."

After a tense explanation over breakfast, Lalemana found herself sulking at the table. Across from her, Lady Marcella sat gracefully, cutting into her meal with the composed authority of a woman who had long since mastered the art of silent scolding. Daisy stood beside Lalemana, her armor still slightly disheveled and her long black hair clearly untouched by a brush. She looked every bit like someone who had been abruptly pulled into duty, though her posture remained formal.

General Brocken arrived early, half-dragging a bleary-eyed Daisy to formally introduce her as Lalemana's new personal escort. The general had insisted, and Lady Marcella had reluctantly agreed, on allowing Daisy entry within the family wing of the Royal Residence.

"Lady Daisy will be guarding you from now on, Lulú," Lady Marcella announced, casually stirring the metal straw of an odd bulb shaped cup. Steam curled up from it, the bitter herbal scent filling the room. She sipped from the straw with ease, her posture relaxed but commanding, "She's about your age and from a noble family we know. I talked with her for a while, she's polite and capable. Do try to get along."

"Thank you, ma'am," Daisy said, bowing slightly. Despite the dark circles under her eyes and her hurried appearance, there was a quiet dignity in her tone. "I swear, milady, to protect you with my life, as is my duty," She knelt beside Lalemana, her speech so formal and polite it caused even the nearby maids to murmur in awe.

Lalemana, however, was less impressed. "But mooooooooooooom," her face crumpled in frustration, "This is my only private space!" She took a big gulp from a bulb shaped cup of her own.

Daisy's eye twitched, clearly holding back irritation, but maintaining her poise for the sake of propriety.

"And it would still be your private space if not for your antics yesterday, Lulú!" Lady Marcella replied firmly, not bothering to look up from her plate. "Lady Daisy will guard you, and that's final!" Her knife sliced through a piece of meat with a soft snap, the sound punctuating her words. "For what it's worth, you'll be allowed more freedom around town with her as your escort."

Daisy offered a soft, polite smile. "Just Daisy is fine, ma'am. There's no need for such formality with a low-ranking noble like me." Her gentle demeanor and respectful speech made her seem effortlessly kind, enough to make Lalemana's mother blush a bit.

"O-of course, Daisy. If you wish," Lady Marcella stammered slightly, clearly charmed. "Do sit with us. You arrived so early; you must not have had breakfast."

Daisy tried to decline, but a loud growl from her stomach betrayed her. "...I would be honored, ma'am."

After breakfast, Lalemana stormed back to her room with Daisy in tow. The sound of hammering caught her attention, and she noticed several maids and earth golems hard at work near her bedroom door.

"What is this?" Lalemana asked, her curiosity piqued.

One of the maids, her face smudged with dirt and cement, looked up. "Good morning, Lady Lalemana. We're constructing Lady Daisy's quarters here. Your mother's orders."

"You're moving in here!?" Lalemana turned on Daisy, incredulous.

"My apologies, milady," Daisy said with a slight bow. "I was ordered to stay close to you at all times."

Lalemana groaned in exasperation as she entered her room.

Despite being underground, her room was far from dreary—soft carpets underfoot, plush blankets draped over a massive bed, silk curtains framing the walls, and a chandelier casting a soft glow from above. The shelves were lined with a collection of plush toys, each one carefully arranged. The closet doors were slightly ajar, revealing rows of exquisite dresses and outfits fit for a noblewoman.

But the room, luxurious as it was, had begun to feel like a cage, and with Daisy now watching her every move, it only seemed smaller.

"Hey, I know you're a girl too, but do you really need to stand there while I'm getting dressed?" Lalemana complained, tossing her nightgown aside and reaching for her clothes.

"I-I'm so sorry!" Daisy squeaked, her face turning red as she hurriedly turned her back.

Once Lalemana finished dressing, she sat down in front of her massive hairdresser—filled with rows of beauty products. There were brushes of every shape and size, shiny combs, and a variety of makeup ranging from powders to creams. The drawers housed lipsticks, eyeshadows, and glittering nail polishes, while the countertop displayed a collection of perfumes and luxurious skincare bottles. Small, ornate containers held scented lotions and oils, each with their own delicate fragrance.

"What's the plan today, milady?" Daisy asked after Lalemana finally finished fussing with her hair.

"Nothing for a while," Lalemana muttered, examining her collection of makeup before slowly picking up a brush. She began applying foundation with the precision of someone who had far too much practice and too little else to do.

Lalemana's preparation stretched on like some kind of bizarre endurance test for Daisy, who had gone from cheerful smiles to a faint grin, then to a look of barely contained frustration. By the time Lalemana reapplied her foundation for the second—or was it third?—time, Daisy was struggling to keep her eyes open.

She applied the makeup sparingly, smoothing it over her skin in such a way that it concealed imperfections while remaining almost invisible. Every step was agonizingly slow, as if she were painting fine art instead of her own face.

Daisy, by now, had nearly dozed off standing when Lalemana finally broke the silence. "Hey, what do you think of this?" She shoved her wrist under Daisy's nose, the scent of some expensive perfume wafting through the air.

"It smells… very nice, milady," Daisy coughed, blinking awake. She tried not to gag on the overwhelming fragrance. When General Brocken told her this was 'one of the most important assignments in the kingdom', she hadn't expected watching a noblewoman put on makeup for two hours to be part of the deal.

Lalemana tilted her head, studying Daisy for a moment, she then sighed, stepping back with an exaggerated expression of dissatisfaction. "You look terrible."

Daisy's heart skipped a beat, a wave of embarrassment rising, but Lalemana quickly clarified, "I don't mean that you're ugly! If anything, you're quite pretty. But right now, you look… well, exhausted."

Daisy smiled politely, unsure how to respond.

Lalemana's eyes lit up with an idea. "Here, sit down. I'll fix you up."

"N-no, milady, I couldn't possibly—" Daisy's protests were useless as Lalemana physically pushed her into the chair in front of the hairdresser.

"If you're going to follow me around all day, you need to look your best!" she grabbed a small jar of cream, the same one she had been using on herself, "Close your eyes."

Daisy hesitated, then complied. The cool touch of the cream was soothing, and despite her initial reluctance, she began to relax under Lalemana's gentle, surprisingly skilled hands. The minutes slipped by in silence, the only sound the soft sweep of brushes and the occasional hum of approval. By the time the makeover was done, Daisy's skin was glowing like she'd just come back from a vacation, and all signs of exhaustion were hidden under layers of high-quality products.

Lalemana was satisfied, the sun had climbed high in the sky, marking the approach of noon. The two made their way through the Royal Residence, their footsteps echoing in the grand halls.

"Are you absolutely sure you don't need a winter coat? It's still snowing," Lalemana asked, glancing at Daisy with mild concern.

"I'll be fine, milady," Daisy responded with a soft smile, her face still glowing from the makeup. "My armor retains heat well enough."

"Alright, suit yourself," Lalemana said, shrugging as she opened the gate to reveal the snow-covered garden. Both girls immediately hugged themselves against the cold.

"I've been meaning to ask," Daisy continued, "aren't we having lunch in the residence? Where are we going?"

"My mom is busy with business affairs," Lalemana answered, waving a hand dismissively. "She's never around for lunch. And with you as my escort, I can wander the city a bit, right?" Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "There's a special restaurant I want to visit."

Lalemana fished a small box from her coat and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced motion. She took a long puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifted lazily upward.

The streets of Arcanletia stretched before them, wide and immaculate, bordered by grand buildings that reflected the wealth and power of the city's elite. Tall, refined structures of polished stone and marble stood shoulder to shoulder, their windows adorned with intricate ironwork. Luxurious carriages, drawn by finely groomed horses, moved gracefully through the avenues, sharing space with the sleek trolleys that glided along on invisible tracks. Above, aqueducts wove through the city, carrying the ever-flowing holy water.

The two walked side by side, their boots crunching through the snow. On their right stretched a large park, its sprawling lawns blanketed in white. Tall trees, their bare branches laden with snow, lined the paths that cut through the park, and in the distance, small groups of nobles could be seen strolling under fur-lined cloaks. To their left, an avenue bustled with activity, the sounds of horses, trolleys, and voices blending into a harmonious din. Despite the cold, the city pulsed with life.

Lalemana puffed on her cigarette like some kind of rebellious noble while Daisy kept glancing around, trying to keep up with her.

"Milady, where are we going?" Daisy asked, her breath misting in the frigid air.

"We're almost there," Lalemana replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she flicked her cigarette butt into the snow. "It's a bit out of the way, not many people know about this place."

Sandwiched between two squat buildings, a modest stall barely stood out. The sign above the entrance was faded, the characters barely legible under years of grime. Icicles hung from the edges of the roof, and the faint scent of broth and spices permeated the air around the building. A small sliding door was the only way in, offering just enough space for two or three customers at a time. Inside, the clatter of pots and pans was nearly drowned out by the hiss of a nearby stove. A red paper lantern swayed gently in the wind.

Daisy squinted at the sign, tilting her head. "Ra-men?" she said slowly, testing the unfamiliar word.

Lalemana slid open the door, her face lighting up as the warmth from inside greeted her. "Miss! It's been ages since you last came!" The owner, a broad-shouldered man with a towel slung over his neck, beamed from behind the counter, his voice booming.

"Way too long," Lalemana sighed dramatically, taking off her snow-dusted hat and settling down on one of the stools. "I haven't had my precious ramen in forever. It's practically a crime! Oh, and I brought a guest." She swiveled around, expecting Daisy to be beside her. Instead, the knight remained frozen at the entrance, awkwardly trying to blend into the background, "Daisy!" Lalemana barked, half-laughing, half-annoyed. "Get in here, you dummy!"

"Milady, I should stand guard—" Daisy began, her usual stoic tone masking her reluctance to enter the cramped restaurant.

Lalemana yanked her inside by the wrist. "No way! You'll freeze to death out there. Besides, I brought you here to eat, not to stand around like a statue. I bet you've never even heard of ramen!"

Daisy shook her head, still uncertain. "No, milady... I haven't."

"Well, you're in for a treat!" Lalemana plopped down on a wooden stool and took off her gloves, excitement dancing across her face. "Two bowls! One extra spicy shrimp ramen for me, and whatever you think a newbie would like best for her." She winked at the owner.

"Shrimp and shoyu comin' right up!" he said, already turning back to his bubbling pots. The sounds of sizzling, chopping, and ladles scraping pots filled the air.

Daisy sat down stiffly beside Lalemana, trying her best to look composed. She was taken aback by how excited Lalemana seemed, almost childlike in her anticipation.

Moments later, two steaming bowls of ramen were placed in front of them. The rich aroma of broth, garlic, and spices filled the small stall, making Daisy's stomach growl involuntarily. She stared down at the wooden sticks placed beside the bowl, completely at a loss.

"Oh, right. You probably don't know how to use these." Lalemana grinned through a mouthful of noodles, speaking in between slurps. "You... haff to holff them like thiff..." She chewed, barely swallowing her food before splitting Daisy's chopsticks. "Here, like this. Uh… mirror what I'm doing," she took a brief pause after showing the chopsticks with her left hand.

Daisy clumsily tried to mimic Lalemana's hand movements, fumbling with the chopsticks as her fingers slipped. Eventually, after a few failed attempts and a stubborn refusal to ask for help, she sighed. "I think I need a fork..."

Lalemana chuckled, setting down her bowl and giving the owner a knowing look. "A fork for the knight! Hurry up, we've got a ramen virgin over here!"

The owner laughed heartily and handed Daisy a fork. She took it with a nod of thanks, her cheeks slightly flushed from embarrassment, before finally tasting the food.

Meanwhile, Lalemana devoured her bowl with the kind of zeal Daisy only imagined warriors showing in battle. She finished long before Daisy, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and sighing contentedly. "Ahh! That hit the spot!"

The owner leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Miss, I swear, I thought I was gonna go outta business without you. You're practically payin' for my kids' school with all you've eaten here!"

Lalemana stuck her tongue out at him playfully before standing up. "You're welcome! Now, if you'll excuse me, nature calls."

As she disappeared towards the back, Daisy hesitated for a moment before turning to the owner. "Where is this food from?"

He scratched his chin, brow furrowed. "Ah, now that's a good question. I've heard it came from Axel, right around when the Demon King was taken down, but no one really knows for sure. Ain't that funny? One day, it just showed up, and folks started making it. Rumor has it, though, that it's the most popular dish in the Crimson Magic Islands. That's probably why most folks think it's foreign. It's not very popular here, I think this may be the only restaurant in town."

Daisy nodded, half-listening as the man rambled on about the origins of ramen. She was more intrigued by why Lalemana—a noble of all people—would be so addicted to such a small, humble place like this. She had so many questions, but before she could ask, Lalemana returned.

"Alright, we're off! I'll pay for both."

Daisy stood abruptly. "But milady, I can—"

"Nope! My treat!" Lalemana winked and waved her hand dismissively, striding towards the door. "Come on, we've still got places to be."

They briskly left the shop, their pace quickening as Lalemana headed straight for a waiting trolley.

"Milady, why don't we take the subway?" Daisy pointed at an entrance of the relatively new Arcanletia Subway System, "It's not as cold."

The cold had set in deeper now, Daisy's breath clearly visible as she spoke, "It doesn't pass through where we're going," Lalemana denied her, as she boarded the trolley.

"We're not supposed to go beyond Grand Central, milady," Daisy warned, eyeing the route map.

"Relax, we're getting off before that." Lalemana's gaze shifted to the window, her expression softening as the snow-covered city passed by. The trolley clattered over a bridge above a frozen river, marking the boundary between the old town and the new part of Arcanletia. The ancient, worn stone buildings of the old city gave way to sleek, modern architecture as they crossed the divide. Daisy watched the stations pass, silently counting them, determined to keep Lalemana from going any further than allowed.

"Here. This is our stop," Lalemana said a while later, standing up as the trolley slowed.

They stepped off into a shabby neighborhood, far removed from the gleaming streets they had just traveled through. The streets were packed with people despite the cold—stall vendors calling out their wares, children running through the alleys, and workers in shabby clothes hurrying past. A group of old men huddled around a barrel fire, rubbing their hands together for warmth. Overhead, laundry lines sagged under the weight of snow-covered clothes, while stray cats darted between piles of debris.

"This place... doesn't look safe," Daisy muttered, a hand firmly on the hilt of her sword. She wasn't used to seeing this side of the city. Not at all.

Her cheeks reddened from the cold as she hurried after Lalemana, who marched directly toward a large building.

The faded sign above its entrance was unreadable, its letters worn away by years of neglect. People bustled in and out, most of them dressed plainly, their faces etched with fatigue.

"What are we doing here?" Daisy asked, her breath visible in the chill air.

Lalemana's tone grew serious, the playfulness gone. "We're here to help."

"Oh, not you again..." a receptionist buried her face in her hands before peeking through her fingers as soon as Lalemana passed through the door, "Please stop coming here, miss. This place is not suitable for a noblewoman like you."

"Hey, it's not like you have staff to spare," Lalemana remarked, matter-of-factly. "I learn from my mistakes—it won't go like last time... I hope." She whispered the last part so softly that only Daisy, standing close by, barely caught it.

The receptionist sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Ugh… well, they've been asking about you almost every day," she muttered, standing up and gesturing for them to follow. "Come, just… try not to make a mess this time, alright?"

Daisy followed; her curiosity piqued by the growing chatter echoing through the hallways. She saw people dressed in casual clothes moving about, accompanied by nurses bustling in and out of rooms. Is this a hospital? she wondered.

After a few minutes, the receptionist stopped in front of a door. "Wait here," she said before slipping inside. Moments later, her stern demeanor vanished as her tone shifted to one of warmth, "Hey, everyone! There's someone here for you!"

Daisy heard voices within the room cheer in response. As Lalemana stepped inside, she was immediately wrapped in a tight hug by a wizard, one missing his right hand.

Scanning the room, Daisy saw a diverse group of bedridden veterans: knights, soldiers, priests, more wizards, and further classes, each with their own unique injuries. Some sat in quiet conversation, others were adjusting prosthetics or engaging in quiet hobbies. Toward the back, a man with bandages covering his eyes leaned over and asked his neighbor, "What's going on?"

"It's nice to see you all again!" Lalemana said, her voice full of heart. "How've you all been without me?"

"The food's been better!" a voice called from across the room, triggering a burst of laughter from the group.

A knight with his arm in a sling chimed in, "Yeah, and nobody's tried to help by tripping into our lunch trays lately!"

Lalemana's face flushed. "H-Hey! That only happened once!"

"Three times, actually," corrected the wizard she had hugged moments ago, sparking even more laughter.

Daisy, still standing near the doorway, tugged on Lalemana's sleeve, her voice low but urgent. "Milady, what is this?"

"This," Lalemana said, gesturing broadly to the room, "is a rehabilitation clinic. All these people here are members of the Royal Army. They were injured in the line of duty."

"Milady, do you have to do community service?" Daisy asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Lalemana gave a small chuckle. "You're not the first to ask that. Do I really come off as that vain?" She cast a wry glance at Daisy, "This is something I do out of my own choice," she then raised her voice to address the room. "Everyone, this is Daisy. She's my new escort."

"You better not treat her like the asshole before!" called a bearded man in the back, who was playing checkers with a gladiator, a hearing device perched on his right ear.

Lalemana turned a little red, but she waved off glares aimed at Daisy. "No worries, she's nice. Don't scare her off." She walked back to the wizard she had hugged earlier, a soft smile on her lips.

"Lean, how's the prosthetic treating you?" She gestured to a mechanical hand resting on a nearby table.

The wizard gave her a sheepish smile. "Still clumsy with my left hand. I have trouble getting it on by myself."

"I'll help." Lalemana grabbed the arm gently and placed it over his stump. "I'll hold it, and you tighten the straps. Being left-handed isn't so bad. It's been an advantage for me in more ways than one."

As they worked together, it became clear Lalemana was guiding him through something she had practiced. Her actions were careful, precise, but there was an air of someone who had learned from a guidebook rather than real experience.

After a few minutes, Lean was flexing his new hand and smiling appreciatively. "Thanks. I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"You'll be able to do it yourself soon enough," Lalemana reassured him. "But don't hesitate to ask for help when you need it."

"That armor… you're from the Royal Guard, aren't you?" a female priest suddenly asked, her face partially covered in bandages. Her one visible eye tracked Daisy as she stood awkwardly at the edge of the room.

"Y-yes," Daisy replied, startled by the directness of the question.

"Must be nice," the priest continued, her tone dripping with bitterness. "While we're out there risking life and limb, you get to hang out with nobles, sipping tea and eating cake."

"Hey, no fighting here!" another patient interrupted from across the room, but the priest ignored them.

"No, it's fine," she muttered, the sarcasm thick in her voice. "After all, thanks to us, there's no fighting here, right? While your lot lounges in luxury, my friends are dying out there!" Her eye brimmed with tears, and she stormed out of the room and leaving behind an uncomfortable silence.

"You should leave the armor with the receptionist, Daisy," Lalemana suggested gently, her voice soft but firm. "Let's just say the Royal Guard doesn't have the best reputation here."

Lalemana busied herself helping the other veterans, assisting one woman missing an arm to apply makeup—an activity that turned surprisingly cheerful as they joked about how difficult eyeliner could be even with two hands. Meanwhile, Daisy watched in silent awe as Lalemana moved from person to person with a practiced ease, her clumsiness and awkward charm shining through but never overshadowing her sincerity.

Hours passed as she worked, and Daisy's sharp hearing tuned into a conversation at the far end of the room. Two old warriors sat over a checkers board, speaking in low tones as they moved their pieces.

"Got any news from our unit?" one asked, moving a piece defensively.

The other man sighed, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Got a letter from Andreas. Said they had to retreat again. That damn Magus is tearing through the south."

"Aamon?" the first man replied, his brow furrowed as he moved his pieces offensively. "They're cutting us off slowly… like they're choking us from the south. I just hope the boys and girls there can hold the line until—"

"Daisy!" Lalemana's shout broke through the room, snapping Daisy's attention back. "We're heading to physiotherapy. Help those missing legs move up." She stood holding the hand of a woman about ten years older, her dark hair was pulled back, revealing deep circles under her eyes, a prosthetic leg where her right leg should've been.

"Y-yes, milady," Daisy replied, hurrying over to assist.

Part 4

After leaving the room, most veterans opted to continue on their own, some using crutches while others leaned against the walls for support. Lalemana watched them briefly before using the moment to stretch, trying to ease the weariness in her muscles. The sound of hurried footsteps broke the quiet.

"Hey-hey-hey!" A priest suddenly appeared, his tone as obnoxious as ever. "You're finally back! It's been a while!"

"Oh hi, Arthur—" Lalemana began, but before she could finish, Daisy swiftly stepped in front of her, pushing Lalemana behind her while drawing her sword on the unsuspecting priest.

"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" Daisy's voice was firm, but her hands shook slightly as she pointed the blade toward Arthur.

He froze, his smile fading as he raised his hands defensively. "Whoa, whoa! What's going on? Who's this girl?"

"Daisy!?" Lalemana shouted, bewildered.

"I-I was told not to let any members of the Axis Church near you, milady!" Daisy stammered, visibly shaken. "Stand back! We're leaving, now!"

Lalemana sighed, softly placing her hand on Daisy's sword, gently forcing it down. "Arthur may be a creepy, disgusting, obnoxious and virgin Axis Priest, but he's harmless. And he's here to help, just like us."

Arthur, although looking deeply offended by her comments, puffed out his chest and raised a fist to the sky. "That's right! As a proud messenger of Lady Aqua's divine word, I'm here to aid her flock in their times of greatest need!" He struck a dramatic pose, hands raised in reverence.

Daisy, still tense, frowned. "I-I was ordered to protect milady from your cult's… influence," she said, her confidence wavering.

"Influence!?" Arthur's voice boomed with exaggerated righteousness. "We, the Axis Church, have done nothing but help those who bravely defend this country!" He leaned closer, his round glasses glinting ominously as he got in Daisy's face, causing her to blush in confusion.

"I-I…" Daisy stuttered, trying to find her words, her gaze dropping as her voice became small. "I was just… following orders…"

Arthur took the opportunity to drive the point home, leaning in even closer. "And do you have any evidence, any proof, that I, a high up of the sacred Axis Church, have ever committed any misdeed?" His voice dripped with self-righteousness.

"Well, no, but—" Daisy tried to answer, her voice barely audible now, her shoulders slumping under the weight of his accusations.

"Of course not!" Arthur cut her off, his tone scolding. "You drew your blade on someone completely innocent!" His words were met with a huff, clearly pleased with himself.

Lalemana, standing awkwardly to the side, tried to intervene. "Arthur, come on, let's not—"

But Arthur waved her off dramatically. "No, no! It's unforgivable!" He turned his back on Daisy, covering his face with one hand in mock anguish. "Only because of our mutual friend here will I let this grievous insult slide. But if it were just the two of us, young lady, you'd be licking my toes right about now!"

Daisy's expression twisted from embarrassment to frustration, her teeth grinding together audibly. "I-I'm very sorry! This won't happen again," she muttered, her head practically bowing in apology.

Arthur, still basking in his perceived superiority, reached over and smacked Daisy on the back of the head. "Instead of letting that pervy body of yours run wild, you should focus on nurturing your brain—OW!"

His triumphant speech was cut short as Lalemana delivered a well-placed punch to his liver. Arthur crumpled, clutching his abdomen as he gasped for breath.

"Stop bullying her," Lalemana scolded, before turning to Daisy. "Come on, Daisy. Let's get out of here."

In a large auditorium, veterans missing legs were scattered across the space, each with their own struggles. Volunteers and clinic staff bustled about offering support as some veterans navigated parallel bars, leaning heavily on the metal rails as beads of sweat dripped from their brows, others fared slightly better, managing with crutches as they hobbled around with determined expressions.

Staff moved about offering guidance, while both Axis and Eris Church members moved about. Despite their best intentions, the rivalry between the two churches was on full display.

"Step aside, I'll handle this," an Eris priest huffed, standing squarely in front of an Axis nun who was assisting a veteran.

"I had this first!" the Axis nun snapped back, stubbornly pulling the veteran in her direction.

The veteran in question awkwardly glanced between the two, unsure of who to choose, while Lalemana watched the chaos unfold with mild amusement.

She stood near besides the woman she was aiding prior, as she practiced walking along a set of parallel bars. The woman, in her mid-thirties, had lost one leg below the knee, but with every step she took now, her movements were growing steadier.

"That's it!" Lalemana cheered. "You could barely stand last time I saw you—now look at you!"

Panting, she managed a weary smile. "It's still hard without help, but… yeah, I'm getting there," she shifted her weight onto Lalemana's shoulder without even asking, like it had become second nature for them. "Mind helping me sit?"

As Lalemana helped her to a nearby bench, Daisy's gaze wandered around the room. It was clear she'd never encountered anything like this before. Despite technically being part of the Royal Army, the sight of soldiers in recovery was foreign to her—she had never given much thought to what happened to those wounded in battle.

Meanwhile, a piano played a simple melody, adding a peaceful, if slightly off-key, backdrop to the scene.

"How have things been going, Arthur?" Lalemana asked, as the priest approached again. She lowered her voice, ensuring the veterans were out of earshot.

Arthur shrugged, crossing his arms. "Up and down, honestly. Some people from last time have gone home, but new people keep coming in. There's no rest around here." He glanced across the room, gesturing toward an older man with a long beard and a cane. "See that guy over there? That's Father Johnny. He's the one who started this whole thing—got the Eris church involved, blacmai—I mean roped in some nobles for funding. Without him, these people would be in a real mess."

Lalemana watched Father Johnny for a moment, a flicker of admiration crossing her face. "Yeah, I've seen him before," she said softly, reminiscing about her own history here—specifically, the time she first met Arthur a few weeks prior.

The conversation was interrupted by Arthur rummaging through his pockets. "Oh, right—check this out." He pulled out a small, folded pamphlet, which was immediately blocked by Daisy's sword, gleaming dangerously close to Arthur's hand.

"If you hand her a recruitment form, I will slice it—and any body part in its vicinity!" Daisy snapped.

Arthur stumbled back, holding up the piece of paper. "It's just a pamphlet, geez! Relax!"

He carefully opened the paper, revealing an innocent flyer. "We've got the annual Axis Pilgrimage to visit the Sapphire Spirit coming up," he explained, puffing out his chest with pride. "Thought she might want to see it."

"THE WHAT!?" Lalemana shoved Daisy aside with surprising force, eyes wide with curiosity. "The Axis Church goes to see the Sapphire Spirit!?"

Arthur nodded sagely. "Naturally! The Sapphire Spirit is obviously a manifestation of Lady Aqua in this world. Every good Axis follower makes the pilgrimage at least once in their life."

"When?!" Lalemana grabbed Arthur by the collar, pulling him close until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Urghh—" Arthur wheezed, struggling to breathe. "In… in the middle of summer! It's the only time traveling deep south is safe! I-I'll be leading the congregation this year—could you loosen your grip a bit?—and, uh, this might be the last pilgrimage for a while. The Demon Queen's army has been making advances in that region, it could get cut off—"

Lalemana snatched the pamphlet from his hands and walked away without another word, leaving Arthur and Daisy dumbfounded.

After a few more hours of helping, it was time to head back to the royal residence—Daisy had strict orders not to let Lalemana stay out after dark, "Milady, we must get going."

Lalemana nodded absently, her eyes lingering on the way the late afternoon sunlight bathed the windows in a soft glow.

After a round of goodbyes, they made their way back to the trolley station. The streets outside the clinic seemed to come alive as the cold night deepened. Restaurants and street stalls lit by warm golden lanterns lined the roads, each puff of steam from cooking food contrasting sharply with the frosty air. Merchants called out, while children, bundled in layers, chased each other around with bright laughter.

"Wait up!" Lalemana suddenly halted, her eyes drawn to a nearby food stall. Daisy glanced nervously at the sky, noting the sun dipping lower.

"Milady, if we don't make it back before dark, I'll be in trouble!" Daisy protested, grabbing Lalemana's wrist in a futile attempt to pull her along. Instead, a warm bun was shoved into her mouth.

"Arcan buns," Lalemana declared proudly, grabbing one for herself from the small paper bag. "Tasty, aren't they?" She smirked, already halfway to the trolley that had just arrived.

Daisy, with no choice but to follow, took a bite. The soft, steaming dough and rich filling instantly melted on her tongue. It really is tasty...

Still, the thought of being late gnawed at her, and she anxiously bobbed her knees up and down on the trolley seat as they rode back. I can't lose this job! she fretted, stealing a glance at Lalemana, who had already dozed off beside her, head gently leaning against the window.

I hope the subway gets expanded soon, it'll make moving through the city much easier, Daisy thought as she wished the trolley would go faster.

When they finally arrived at the station near the Royal Residence, the sun had all but set. Daisy shot to her feet, practically dragging Lalemana by the wrist as they sprinted back. She cursed under her breath as they dodged pedestrians and barely managed to avoid a lamppost.

By the time they burst through the grand entrance of the residence, both were gasping for breath. Daisy checked the clock and exhaled in relief. "We made it... just in time," she panted, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, great work," Lalemana replied between breaths, patting Daisy on the back, already making her way toward the Dustiness family wing.

As they neared her quarters, one of the maids approached Lalemana, insisting she eat dinner. "Milady, surely you must be hungry after such a long day."

"I'm full, thanks," Lalemana replied, still thinking of the buns, brushing off the maid's concerns. "I'll just take a bath and head to bed." She headed straight for her bedroom, Daisy trailing behind.

Noticing that Daisy's quarters, just outside her own room, had been completed, Lalemana stopped for a moment. The small space had all the basics: a bed, nightstand, closet, and desk.

Lalemana entered her bath with only a white towel covering her. The large bath was deep and filled with steaming water, surrounded by smooth stone tiles and wooden accents. The warm air rose in swirls, filling the room. Lalemana lowered herself into the water, her body sinking slowly into the warmth.

"Ahhhh…" she sighed in bliss, her head tipping back as she felt the steam work its magic on her tired muscles. Tilting her head back, eyes closed—until she caught sight of a figure behind her.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lalemana shrieked, jumping to her feet and frantically clutching her towel to her chest. "What the—?!"

"Milady! It's me!" Daisy yelped in response, also desperately holding onto the towel barely covering her body.

Lalemana blinked, her pulse still racing. "What are you doing here!?"

"I-I'm sorry, milady, but I was ordered to watch over you... even in these… situations…" Daisy stammered, trying to avert her eyes.

Lalemana sighed, sinking back into the water and turning her back to Daisy. "Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and get in. You'll catch a cold just standing there."

Reluctantly, Daisy obeyed, sliding into the water on the opposite side of the bath. They sat in awkward silence for a while, the gentle splash of water the only sound between them. Lalemana, still turned away, quietly scrubbed her arms, while Daisy focused on washing herself, her hands trembling slightly from nerves.

Eventually, Lalemana got up, wrapping her towel tightly around her as she moved toward the door. "Don't stay too long. You'll get dizzy," she said curtly before exiting the bath.

By the time Daisy returned to the bedroom, Lalemana was seated at her dresser, applying her nightly creams. Daisy grabbed her folded clothes from the nearby chair, but before she could slip out unnoticed, Lalemana spoke.

"Wait a moment, Daisy," She kept her eyes fixed on the mirror. "I couldn't help but notice you don't have any bags in your room. Don't tell me you don't have clean clothes?"

"U-uhm, yes, milady. They haven't brought my things yet," Daisy admitted.

Without a word, Lalemana stood, moving to her wardrobe and pulling out several nightgowns. "Try one of these. They might be tight for you, but it'll work for tonight." She thrust them toward Daisy, who hesitated, her face flushed.

Daisy's face flushed. "Milady, I can't possibly—"

"You've been wearing the same clothes since last night," Lalemana interrupted, holding the gowns out firmly. "It's not as if I'm short on them. Just try one."

Eventually, Daisy managed to slip into one, though it was tight around her larger frame. Lalemana, paying no mind, gestured for her to sit on the bed. Taking a hairbrush, she began gently working through Daisy's tangled hair. The strokes were careful, and for the first time that day, the atmosphere felt peaceful.

"I bet you've heard some awful things about me from the Royal Guard," Lalemana started softly, continuing to brush. Daisy remained silent for a moment before nodding.

"They all hate me," Lalemana sighed, untangling a knot in Daisy's hair. "Most think having a constant guard around me is a waste of time and resources. Honestly, I agree."

Daisy thought quietly, reflecting on the day. Why does she need such heavy guardship? She wondered, recalling how none of her superiors ever answered. Lalemana just seemed like a normal girl.

"You're the first knight to say anything other than bark orders in years," Lalemana continued, the hint of sadness creeping into her voice. "The recent ones didn't even bother with introductions."

She tapped Daisy's shoulder, signaling that she was done. Daisy opened her mouth to say something but stopped when she saw Lalemana already tucked under her blankets.

"Good night, Daisy. Try to rest, okay?" Lalemana said, her back to her.

"Good night, milady," Daisy replied, leaving the room quietly.

A while later, a faint noise interrupted Daisy as she was dozing off. Someone was moving quietly down the hall. She opened her door, peeking out just in time to see Lalemana silently walking toward the stairs. Intrigued, she followed.

Lalemana moved swiftly through the dark halls of the Royal Residence, her destination clear. Daisy, unfamiliar with the building's layout, struggled to keep up but didn't let herself lose sight of her. They eventually reached a large door adorned with the royal family's crest.

Lalemana sat cross-legged in front of it and talked to herself, for nearly an hour.

Part 5

A few weeks later.

"Lulú, open this door!" Lady Marcella commanded, her fist banging on the wooden door with a force that belied her elegant appearance. She stood in front of her daughter's chambers, dressed in a gown fit for the ball they were soon to attend. The rich burgundy fabric clung to her in all the right places, with her corset enhancing her already formidable figure. "Stop being such a stubborn, girl. You have to come too! This is an important event; you can't just lock yourself in there."

"I don't wanna!" came Lalemana's muffled, petulant voice from the other side. "Everyone up there hates me anyway!"

"That's not true, milady!" Daisy, standing beside Lady Marcella, chimed in. Despite the formal occasion, her armor was neatly fitted, and her hair had been tied back in a sleek ponytail, giving her a composed, polished look.

Lady Marcella was not amused, her tone turned sharper, the patience in her voice evaporating, "I'm not playing around here! If you don't open this door, I'll have Daisy knock it down and drag you upstairs if necessary!"

"Ma'am!?" Daisy gasped, horrified by the idea, "Please don't make me—"

"I'll also take away your hairdresser!" Lady Marcella added the final threat. "You have until the count of three. One!" She started counting, her voice firm.

"Two!"

Daisy looked to the door helplessly, her armored feet shifting uncomfortably on the carpet.

Just as Lady Marcella took a deep breath to call "Three!", there was the sound of a lock clicking, the door creaked open ever so slightly. From behind it, Lalemana appeared, looking every bit as if she were being marched to her doom.

The dress she wore was a soft, icy blue that was both regal and understated, with layers of flowing fabric that billowed softly as she moved. It was elegant, and painstakingly tight at the waist thanks to the corset that cinched her figure dramatically, pushing up her generous bust. Her neckline was adorned with an ornate collar holding the Dustiness family crest, identical to her mother's. Around her neck and wrists, delicate silver jewelry shimmered—dangling earrings that caught the light, bracelets stacked elegantly, and a few rings adorning her fingers.

"Fine," she grumbled, crossing her arms puffing her chest. "But I'm making sure I don't enjoy it at all!"

"Stop talking nonsense," her mother retorted, stepping back to let Lalemana pass. "This is a great chance for you to socialize with people your age."

Lalemana's eyes darkened, and she shot a pointed glare at her mother. "There's only one person I care to socialize with," she muttered bitterly as she swept past, "and she's not coming!"

Daisy opened her mouth to protest, but before she could follow, Lady Marcella gently grabbed her arm. "Give her some space," she advised quietly. "Watch over her, but from a distance tonight. Let her be."

The grand ballroom on the third floor of the Royal Residence glittered under the warm glow of chandeliers, which sparkled like stars in the night sky. The vast space was lined with towering windows draped in lush velvet curtains. Polished marble floors reflected the light, the air was thick with wealth, and everyone present seemed eager to flaunt it.

Around the room, nobles from every corner of the kingdom—and even a few from beyond—paraded their extravagant outfits. The men boasted tailored suits in outlandish colors, some with capes that seemed designed more for dramatic effect than warmth. One man even twirled a cane with a diamond-encrusted handle while adjusting his monocle. As for the women, their gowns were marvels of silk, lace, and impracticality, with hairstyles so high and elaborate that some looked like they were trying to compete with the chandeliers.

In one corner, a small band played a delicate tune on string instruments, providing a soothing backdrop to the bustling scene. The crowd mingled with drinks in hand, waiters offering trays laden with sparkling beverages and dainty hors d'oeuvres.

But amidst all the opulence and chatter, Lalemana stood out for entirely different reasons. Leaning against the wall, a sizable cup of alcohol gripped firmly in her hand, her face wore an expression that said, 'Come near me, and you'll regret it.'

"Lulú!" Lady Marcella appeared out of nowhere, grabbing her cheeks and pulling them into a wide, forced smile. "Stop looking so gloomy and make some friends! Some of these guests came from the farthest reaches of the country and beyond just to meet you."

"Mmmmmmmmmm!" Lalemana's attempt to protest was muffled by her mother's iron grip on her cheeks.

"No buts, young lady!" her mother hissed, her eyes flashing with a fierceness that could make a Demon Queen's general think twice. "Or do you want to make me angry?"

Lalemana's eyes widened in fear. "A-alright, alright!" she yelped as soon as her mother let go, downing her drink in a single gulp before stomping toward tables filled with sweets.

"Good evening," a young man, practically glowing with princely charm, approached. His golden hair shimmered under the chandeliers, and his blue eyes sparkled with the kind of confidence only a nobleman accustomed to admiration could possess. "You must be Lady Lalemana."

Lalemana blinked at him, seemingly mesmerized—but not by his handsome features. "Oh my gosh," she muttered, her eyes fixating on something else entirely. "Where did you get that cake?"

The nobleman, holding a small, perfectly frosted cupcake, hesitated. "Oh, um, there's a bunch in the table over there." He pointed to a table behind him, clearly hoping to continue the conversation, but Lalemana had already swept past him.

Within moments, Lalemana was on her third—or her fourth?—cupcake, her face smeared with cream. "These are amazing," she mumbled through a mouthful of frosting, reaching for a drink.

"I'm Patrick Meade Wilhelm, I got to say I've heard plenty of you, Lady Dustiness," he bowed elegantly, introducing himself.

"I haven't heard about you at all," she said stuffing another cupcake.

"Of course, someone of her standing hasn't heard of someone like you!" a second nobleman suddenly appeared, "I am Edward Ford Kuiper, my family... uh... we own a very large library, and I—"

Patrick glared at him. "A library? Is that supposed to impress her?"

Edward's face went crimson, and he fumbled with his sleeves. "Well, it's a very large library! We have, uh, books about, um... swords?"

"You don't even know what books you own, do you?" Patrick sneered.

"I do too! We've got... literature. A lot of it!" Edward shot back, though it was clear he was grasping at straws.

Lalemana watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes, clearly unimpressed. She slowly turned away while the two noblemen began bickering like children, looking for her next snack.

Just as she was about to make a clean getaway, another figure popped up out of nowhere.

A boy of about 12, standing nervously in his oversized attire. His suit, a dark blue lined with gold trim, practically swallowed him. His face was flush, and his hands fidgeted as he approached.

"G-good evening, Lady Dustiness," he stammered. "M-my name is—I am Alphonse Russo Chase, youngest son of Marquess Chase... um, may I have a dance with you?"

Lalemana stared at him, cocking her head in surprise. "Hey little man, how old are you?"

"T-twelve, milady…"

She glanced around for a moment, leaned in close, and whispered, "And why did you come over here?"

The boy glanced sideways nervously before pointing over to a woman who was obviously his mother. She was standing on the far side of the ballroom, giving her son a hopeful thumb-up and encouraging nods.

"Oh," Lalemana sighed. She placed a hand on his head, ruffling his already neat hair. "Tell your mom you tried. That'll get you through this evening, yeah?"

Lady Chase again? What's the problem with that woman, that's the third of her sons she's tried to pair me with, and they only get younger! Lalemana thought as she saw Lady Chase, who instantly covered her face with a fan.

The boy nodded vigorously, grateful for the out, and practically sprinted back to his mother's side.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, two older noblemen were having a not-so-subtle conversation about strategy.

"She's clearly avoiding the younger ones, Marcus," whispered Lord Frederick Barnes Melodio, a man in his thirties with a beard so thick it looked like it might be alive. "It's time for an experienced touch. I'll woo her with stories of my grand adventures!"

"You mean the time you accidentally fell into a well?" Marcus Bons Coleslaw, a slightly younger noble, whispered back. "You've never been on an adventure in your life, Freddy."

"It's called embellishment, Marcus! Learn it!"

Both men approached Lalemana, who was now eyeing a fruit tart with suspicious intensity.

"Lady Dustiness," Frederick began, puffing out his chest. "Did I ever tell you about the time I fought off a pack of wild wolves with nothing but a spoon?"

Lalemana blinked. "I'm pretty sure spoons aren't for fighting."

"It was a special spoon," Frederick corrected, his face deadly serious.

"Oh really?" she deadpanned. "What did it do, ladle them to death?"

Frederick hesitated, then blurted out, "Yes, actually—!"

Lalemana's expression didn't change as she took a bite of the fruit tart and casually walked away mid-story.

Frederick stood there, dumbfounded, as Marcus patted him on the back. "Tough break, old friend."

The chaos only escalated as multiple noblemen started to gather around her, each more desperate than the last. Some tried to compliment her beauty (and not-so-subtly glance at her chest), others boasted about their estates, and one unfortunate soul dropped a glass of wine all over her shoes while nervously asking for her favorite color.

And then came the dancing.

Lalemana, now slightly tipsy and resigned to her fate, agreed to a dance just to get away from her reverse harem. The first suitor, Gregory Rod Lilac, was a competent dancer but couldn't stop talking about his "legendary" swordsmanship, despite clearly having never held a sword in battle.

Before she could escape, another nobleman swooped in, practically snatching her out of Gregory's hands mid-spin. This one was Victor Clever Oxton, and he wasted no time twirling her around, boasting about his collection of rare gemstones.

"Oh, please," interrupted the noblewoman who cut in next, "gemstones are old news. What about my rare magical creatures? Surely, you'd prefer that?", she said as she strongly intertwined fingers with her.

Lalemana blinked in confusion. "Huh… what are you doing?" she said looking at her suspiciously.

"I heard about you at church, my name is Melissa Smedius Lindholm," the noblewoman said with a wink, "You should know that at the Axis Church we're open minded!"

"If I may ask, from whom did you hear about me?" Lalemana tried to loosen the grip on her hand, but Melissa just grabbed her by the waist strongly.

"From my priest, he said wonderful things about you!" Melissa replied with a smile, her blue eyes sparkling.

I'll have a stern talk with Arthur next time I see him! She thought, but before she could say more, she was forcefully pried away by someone else.

"Lady Lalemana, may I have this dance?" Edward Kuiper had swooped back into the fray, offering his hand, that after essentially kicking Melissa away.

Lalemana was swept, but before the song had even ended, another noble slipped in between them. "I believe it's my turn now," he declared with a bow.

Kuiper looked flustered. "Excuse me, I wasn't done yet!"

"Yes, you were," he grinned, snatching Lalemana's hand. She barely had time to process it before she was whirled away into another waltz. Before the next spin, Trevor Cameron awkwardly elbowed his way in, mumbling, "Uh, sorry, my turn."

As the dance progressed, the nobles became more aggressive, each one more desperate to impress her. Ferdinand boasted about his lavish estates, while Alfred went on about his 'unparalleled fencing skills.' Trevor nervously mentioned that he had recently purchased a 'very large octopus.' Each noble's bragging became more absurd by the minute. Lalemana found herself passed around like a prized trophy. One nobleman even tried to impress her by lifting her into the air, only to nearly drop her in the process.

An hour dragged on, Lalemana going from one partner to the next, each nobleman—or noblewoman—whisking her away before she could even catch her breath. Lalemana's had become a mess, her makeup smudged, and she was so exhausted she could barely stand. When the next suitor approached her with an eager grin, she raised her hand and said, "Please let me rest for a bit…"

The poor man looked heartbroken, but she couldn't care less. She made her way to a corner, finally free from the gauntlet of suitors, and collapsed into a chair, wiping the sweat from her forehead, with a relieved groan, she kicked off her shoes, letting the cool marble soothe her aching feet.

Slumped back, she glanced down at her once-elegant dress, now wrinkled and slightly askew from all the movement. A lock of hair clung stubbornly to the side of her face, as if mocking her for even trying to maintain composure.

"Lady Dustiness, perhaps I could offer you a foot rub—" came the voice of yet another suitor.

"Do not touch my feet," Lalemana quickly interrupted, "But I wouldn't say no to a drink."

Before she could finish, several voices chimed in: "Anything for you, Lady Dustiness!" "I'll crush the grapes myself!" "The finest drink, coming right up!"

She cringed at the eager mob assembled before her. "Just bring me the strongest drink you can find," she commanded, waving them off. In an instant, the group scattered.

Daisy, watching the whole scene from afar, had to stifle laughter. As if Lalemana was getting some well-deserved comeuppance. This was turning into a far more entertaining night than she'd expected.

As Daisy wandered through the crowd, keeping an eye on Lalemana, her sharp ears couldn't help but pick up on the conversation of some of the wealthiest nobles.

"How much do you think he'll gouge us this time?" said a short, bald man with a walrus moustache and a monocle, his belly straining against his coat.

"Our taxes are already outrageous; I can barely afford my five villas!" added another man with a pointy beard, his top hat casting a sharp shadow over his face. "Raise the taxes on the commoners. Not only are we paying for this war, but it's our soldiers and our weapons fighting it. We deserve a break."

"An envoy is being sent to Elroad soon to squeeze more tributes from them, if only the pr—" A noblewoman cut in, her voice hoarse with age, but Daisy couldn't hear the rest as the music swelled.

"I don't see why we can't get tributes from the Crimson Magic Islands," said another nobleman, taller and thin with a hawk-like nose and gaudy rings on his fingers. "Those edgy dorks are richer than half the continent! They could spare a little pocket change."

"The last time we tried, they sent a storm that ravaged the coast," a man in high-grade armor replied, his voice heavy with authority. He had the bearing of a seasoned general, his stern face marked with deep lines that matched the gray streaks in his short-cropped hair. "We're still paying reparations to the Analess Republic for the damages. Not worth the headache."

"Why is that girl still here, anyway?" walrus moustache spoke again, casting a glance toward Lalemana, as she was quickly downing the drinks a group of pretenders brought, "Isn't she old enough by now? Why are we wasting precious resources on her? Send her off, let her fulfill her duty."

Daisy's stomach tightened; she leaned in closer.

"The king is unwilling to risk her, the Dustiness family holds too much influence over him," the general said, his tone carrying an edge of frustration. "Believe me, nearly everyone in high command agrees with you, but the king remains stubborn. He insists on waiting for 'things to unfold naturally.'"

"Bah!" scoffed the older woman, her wrinkled hand waving dismissively. "Marry her off at least. Maybe she'll pop out the one we need! That'd solve everything, wouldn't it?"

"We can't keep wasting time. It's not as if we're winning," another woman chimed in, her dress elaborate, but her face lined with worry. Her silver hair was piled high in a tower of curls, making her look even more severe. "If anything, we're being pushed back, and that girl's doing nothing but twirling in dresses." She narrowed her eyes at the general, "Isn't that right?"

"Afraid so," the general replied, his voice betraying a note of unease. "We've been losing ground in the south. Ferrantia's practically next door to the frontlines. The holy water only helps so much, we can only move a limited amount after all."

"My daughter's stationed in Xeloria," pointy beard chimed in. "She told me the Demon Queen's Army has been targeting the railroads. Troops further south are in danger—plus, I have, uh, certain investments in that region…" He trailed off, adjusting his collar nervously.

"Luckily, the manatite mines near Ilyora are nearly depleted. My company saw to that," walrus moustache said smugly, stroking his whiskers, "But further south…"

"My sources—," another man added, leaning forward conspiratorially. His sleek appearance, from his oiled hair to the gleaming rings on his fingers, marked him as someone who traded in secrets. He was an information magnate, the owner of several newspapers. "—Tell me yet another expedition to capture the Sapphire Spirit failed miserably. General, care to comment? That puts us in quite the pickle, doesn't it?"

The general's face paled. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. "It's… complicated. Whatever protects that spirit is absurdly strong. We sent one of our best squads, and they brought everything the ritual required—the finest alcohol, sweets, you name it. But the spirit wouldn't budge. Its protector… well, let's just say they didn't leave much room for negotiation."

"Just send the girl," said the silver-haired noblewoman, her lips curling into a sneer. "If she convinces the spirit, great. If she fails, we lose nothing of value. If things are as dire as you all say, we're running out of time."

"We must be firm with the king," added walrus moustache, his voice hardening. "If he wants us to keep paying for this war, then let that girl do the duty she was born for. Or at least have Archduke Dustiness heavily increase his quota, where is he anyway?"

Daisy's stomach churned, a mix of anger and frustration bubbling up inside her. She clenched her fists tightly, then redirected her gaze toward Lalemana, who was being approached by a group of young noblewomen. With a determined step, Daisy moved to rejoin her, hoping to overhear the conversation—until another noblewoman blocked her path.

"Good evening! You must be Miss—oh, I mean Lady Arlenfelt," the woman said, scratching her cheek awkwardly. "I've got a fantastic business proposal for you, if you'd just come along with me."

"Ah, but I—" Daisy started, only to be dragged forcefully in the opposite direction. The woman was doing an excellent job of making sure Daisy's view of Lalemana was thoroughly blocked.

Meanwhile, Lalemana had her own problems.

"Well, if it isn't 'Lady' Dustiness," one of the noblewomen sneered, her bow a grand, mocking gesture. "How generous of you to grace us with your presence." The woman gave a deep, mocking bow.

Lalemana groaned as she turned to see her tormentor. "Ugh, that dreadful voice… If it isn't Lady Panpan," she clapped sarcastically with each syllable of the name, "What an absolute displeasure to run into you tonight." Her words cut with venom.

"That's Lady Sumer to you!" Panpan snapped, a vein visibly pulsing in her forehead. Her crimson eyes, only remnants of some far-removed Crimson Magic Clan ancestry, flared as she tried to keep her composure. "Don't think just because your family outranks mine that you're better than me!"

While the two argued, a group noblewomen swiftly surrounded Lalemana.

Lalemana leaned in slightly, "Oh, but Panpan, darling, that's exactly what noble titles are for. To let the lesser nobles—like you—know who's better." She stood tall, her face a mask of faux pity. "Though I suppose someone with a brain as small as yours might have a hard time keeping up."

The tension between them could have frozen over the entire ballroom. The other noblewomen watched with wide eyes as the verbal daggers flew back and forth, yet both girls kept their rigid smiles plastered on.

"I see you're still as charming as a wild boar," Panpan said, giving a sickly-sweet smile. "I'm surprised you even bothered showing up tonight. Aren't you supposed to be off on some grand quest? Oh, I simply can't wait for the day you leave this city."

"I'm prepared to leave at any time," Lalemana replied, feigning regret as she raised a hand to her lips. "Oh, but how could I forget? You weren't deemed worthy to join me." Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she delivered the line, her smile twisting into the smuggest expression she could muster.

Panpan's jaw tightened, and her hands balled into fists. "It's no loss," she hissed, though her smile stayed unnaturally bright. "Honestly, spending more than a minute with you would be unbearable. The thought alone makes me sick to my stomach."

Before Lalemana could retort, a shriek cut through the air as one of the noblewomen behind her stumbled theatrically, a concealed blade in hand. With a single swift motion, she sliced through Lalemana's dress, exposing her entire left leg.

A chorus of gasps followed.

Panpan's eyes glittered with cruel satisfaction. "Oh my, how unsightly, Dustiness," she said, covering her mouth with a fan, though her grin was barely hidden behind it. "Exposing so much skin like that… but I suppose someone as charmless as you must resort to such tactics to catch the eye of any man. Why don't you scream for me, Dustiness," Panpan said in disdain, "Maybe some boys will help you out of pity. Or perhaps your father? I don't think I've seen him all night, does he really care about you?"

Lalemana stood perfectly still, her expression the very definition of calm—except for the slight twitch at the corner of her eye. She smiled, though her voice wavered slightly. "You must be joking if you think this will make me lose my composure. My father has far more important things to do than attending some frivolous party. Of course, I'm sure your father understands, given that he works for mine."

Panpan's face twitched, her forced smile faltering as the insult struck home. "Careful," she whispered, signaling to one of the noblewomen standing behind Lalemana. "Let's see if you're still composed after losing a bit more than just your dignity."

"Lady Dustiness," the noblewoman behind Lalemana said, stepping closer and reaching out as if to offer help. "Perhaps we should take care of your dress…"

Before the woman could touch Lalemana, Daisy appeared, her hand seizing the noblewoman's wrist with swift precision. The woman yelped softly, dropping a hidden pair of scissors.

"That won't be necessary," Daisy said, her voice calm but her grip firm.

Panpan's gaze shifted to Daisy, her crimson eyes sharp. "You truly don't know your place, do you?" she sneered. "I take it you declined my offer? Tell me, do you really prefer working for this worthless girl?"

Daisy shot her a cold smile. "I suggest you watch your words, Lady Sumer," she said, stepping closer. "As you're well aware, disrespecting a higher-ranking noble is a serious offense. Attacking one is a grave crime." She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, just enough to send a clear message. "And Lady Lalemana is under my protection from everything—and everyone."

The rising tension had drawn the attention of several knights nearby, and it seemed the situation was about to spiral out of control—until a booming voice echoed through the ballroom.

"Dear friends, I'm delighted to see you all here tonight!" The voice of the king reverberated through the hall, commanding the room's attention.

Panpan and her entourage seized the moment, dispersing quickly into the crowd. Daisy turned to speak to Lalemana, only to find that she, too, had vanished.

"As you know," the king kept talking as he moved through the room, carefully shaking hands with every noble in his way, as two towering paladins followed after his every move, "Our country is at its most critical moment, it is now that we need to come together more than anything—"

Daisy glanced at the king, surprised. His finely embroidered black coat and fur-lined collar spoke of royalty, but his unkempt hair and graying beard told a different story. Dark circles under his eyes and his worn posture revealed a man exhausted from the frontlines, though still maintaining a dignified presence.

She couldn't afford to be distracted and quickly resumed her search for Lalemana. It didn't take long before she spotted her smoking on the balcony outside the ballroom, gazing up at the sky. Daisy slipped outside, quietly shutting the glass door behind her.

Lalemana took a long puff, then pointed towards a light in a nearby building. "See that? Someone over there is watching us." She waved, and sure enough, the light flickered as if in response. "And that one over there," she added, pointing toward another building.

Lalemana slumped, resting her arms and head on the balcony railing. "Always observed. Rarely left alone. I can never be myself. And those people in there? They either hate me or just care about my family's influence." She took another drag, exhaling with frustration. "Screw this…"

Daisy hesitated, the cold biting in her face. "Milady, if I may ask… why do you need such heavy protection? Who… exactly are you?"

Lalemana chuckled and flicked the cigarette away. "Guess they didn't tell you, huh?" She turned to face Daisy and grabbed her by the wrist. "Come with me."

They hurried back inside, Lalemana leading Daisy straight to the library. Passing through towering shelves, they stopped in front of a large, guarded metal door.

"I'm sorry, Lady Dustiness," said the guard firmly, "but your escort is not permitted beyond this point."

Lalemana tapped the pendant hanging around her neck, bearing the Dustiness family crest. "This proves my family is part of the king's inner circle. I'm allowed through."

"Yes, milady, but your escort—"

"If you deny her entry, you're interfering with my escort, aren't you? That's a grave offense, a very grave offense," Lalemana smirked, arms crossed. The guard hesitated before reluctantly stepping aside.

Daisy, still confused, followed her through the door into a short hallway. They boarded a large elevator, Lalemana pressing the only button. The descent was long, the air heavy.

"Um, milady—"

"We're almost there," Lalemana interrupted as the elevator clunked to a stop. They stepped out into a dimly lit corridor lined with torches, leading to a vast underground chamber. A table stood in the center, piled with several large, worn books and scattered notes.

Lalemana walked to the far end of the table while Daisy cautiously approached the books. She touched the cover of one, bright red and unmarked. "W-what are these…?"

Lalemana's tone grew serious. "This, Daisy, is the most highly guarded secret of the crown. The most accurate record of the fall of the Demon King. The Crimson Codex."

Daisy's eyes widened in shock as Lalemana opened one of the books. Lalemana explained, pacing slowly, "They were discovered decades ago in the ruins of the original Crimson Magic Village north of here."

"It's the story of the legendary party…" Daisy muttered, her voice trembling as she read the page Lalemana opened.

"That's right," Lalemana nodded, "The full complete story, as told from the memoirs of the Crimson Magic clanswoman, or that's what the prologue says, at least."

"But how can we know if it's accurate? All of that information was lost when—"

"When the Royal Capital fell centuries ago?" Lalemana cut her off. "Scholars have studied these books for a long time. It's been determined they were written about five hundred years ago, shortly after the Demon King's defeat."

Daisy's eyes darted across the pages, struggling to comprehend the gravity of it all. "But… why keep it a secret? This is crucial history!"

Lalemana opened the book to a specific page, gesturing for Daisy to read it. After a moment of silent reading, Daisy's expression shifted to one of shock. "Milady… you… you're…"

"Yes," Lalemana said with a tired sigh, "one of my ancestors was the noble crusader. She went by the name 'Darkness' for some reason. Scholars are still baffled as to why." Lalemana again took the book, opening on one of the last pages, and signaled her to read a final time.

Daisy's face paled as she read aloud: "When the world is near the edge of darkness, the legendary party will come together once again. The Crimson Magic clanswoman, the Dustiness noblewoman, the blue-haired archpriest will reunite to save the world…" She paused, squinting at the last line, "and… maybe some… NEET?"

"Surprise! I'm one of the chosen ones to save the world!" Lalemana's tone dripped with sarcasm as she fiddled with the clasp of her dress. "Oh, but it gets better, generations of the royal family have believed in this prophecy. They've been waiting, waiting for me—the first Dustiness woman born in a long time. But instead of letting me reunite the party, they keep me locked up here like some precious artifact."

Daisy's mind raced. "If this is true, you should be out there gathering the legendary party!"

Lalemana's frustration boiled over. "That's what I've been saying for years! But no, I'm too 'precious.' What if something happens to me? What about this prophecy then? I haven't been allowed to leave the city in over ten years, Daisy. Ten years!"

"Milady…"

Lalemana sighed. "Remember that assface from before, Panpan? She was considered for the role of the Crimson Magic clanswoman at one point. Lived here, too. Hates me because I was 'chosen' and she wasn't."

"But the Crimson Magic Clan is so isolated!" Daisy exclaimed. "There are no records of anyone leaving the islands in a very long time, and they don't accept foreigners aside of merchants!"

"Exactly!" Lalemana gritted her teeth. "Tell that to the king! Apparently, we're just supposed to hope one wanders into town!" She took a deep breath, regaining her composure. "But there's another. You've heard of the Sapphire Spirit, right?"

Daisy nodded hesitantly, "The spirit said to have healing powers beyond even the best Archpriests…? The blue haired—!"

Lalemana nodded. "Yeah. But even after all these years, the king refuses to let me go see it. There have been dozens of attempts to bring the spirit here by force, and every single one failed."

Her frustration boiled over, and she slammed a book onto the ground, scattering papers everywhere. "I'm not even allowed to bathe on my own, yet I'm supposed to save the world…"

Daisy tried to speak, but Lalemana cut her off with a forced smile. "Anyway, I hope that cleared up your questions, Daisy. Let's head back, the guard up there may rat us out."

With that, Lalemana led the way back to the elevator, leaving Daisy stunned.

She absentmindedly followed Lalemana, not noticing they were heading toward the front door instead of the ballroom. It wasn't until the freezing gust of wind hit her that she snapped out of it.

"M-Milady, where are you—?" Her words were cut off as a snowball smacked her square in the face.

"Hahahaha!" Lalemana's laugh rang out, her cheeks bright red from the cold and her amusement. She bounced a snowball in her hand, eyes gleaming mischievously. "You gotta be ready for anything!" she said, tossing another snowball and hitting Daisy once again.

"Milady, please, you could catch a cold," Daisy replied in her usual deadpan tone, brushing snow off her face and hair.

"Aww, come on, play with me," Lalemana pouted, already forming more snowballs. "I don't have anyone else!"

"Milady—" Daisy was cut off by another snowball. "I'm supposed to protect you—" And another one hit. "—from everything, including yourself," she muttered as another snowball smacked into her. With each hit, Daisy's patience frayed a little more.

Lalemana had built a small snow fort by now, gleefully launching snowballs from behind her makeshift defenses.

"Alright, that's it! If getting you back inside means defeating you, then so be it!" Daisy declared, finally grabbing a handful of snow and forming her own snowball. She tossed it back, and soon both girls were fully engaged in an all-out snowball fight, laughter echoing through the dark garden.

Their fun only came to a halt when Lady Marcella appeared, hands on her hips, giving them both a stern scolding for their antics.

Later that night, Lalemana sat slumped in front of the usual door, shivering under a blanket, holding a cloth to her nose. "Heh, are you okkay?" she mumbled, her voice muffled and nasally from her blocked nose. She blew into the cloth with a loud honk. "I tink I got sick…" she sniffled, her shoulders shaking as she shivered from the cold.