Valkyrie's Shadow

Before the Storm: Act 3, Chapter 10

Before the Storm: Act 3, Chapter 10

Chapter 10

19th Day, Upper Fire Month, 1 CE

“You did what?!”

In the crimson-hued court of Shalltear Bloodfallen, Ludmila puzzled over a piece of paperwork at her desk. She had come for a bit of quiet in the hope that she could sneak some work in before the evening’s events, but instead found Liane already inside. To be fair, it would have probably remained quiet had she not made the mistake of mentioning where Frianne’s party had gone after their visit to Warden’s Vale.

“I sent them north so they could see the rest of the Duchy.”

“You know,” Liane said, “we were specifically trying to keep them away from all that. This is why we don’t let you do any marketing. You suck at it!”

“Because I’m honest?”

“Because you arm people with excuses,” Liane told her. “You may think you’re being fair, but all you’re doing is showing them stuff that gives them reasons to turn down what we’re offering. What do you think would happen to a bakery’s sales if they went out of their way to tell people that their cakes would make them fat?”

“Those who were concerned about it would try to refrain from eating too much cake.”

Liane stared at her. Ludmila stared back. The younger woman simultaneously rolled her eyes and sighed, leaning back into her chaise.

“The western territories aren’t that bad,” Ludmila said. “They’re doing much better than when we were still a part of Re-Estize. Considering that Frianne and her party are imperials, I’m sure they’ll consider those fiefs to be doing far better than mine.”

“Clara,” Liane said, “help me out here.”

“You worry too much,” Clara’s voice rose from Ludmila’s lap.

Clara was the second distraction. Ludmila didn’t know why she thought would be able to get any work done.

“This is nepotism,” Liane grumbled. “Corruption!”

“Seeing how far behind the other territories are relative to us won’t keep them from taking the path we’ve laid out,” Clara said. “Imperials are terribly optimistic when it comes to self-assessment. They’ll think they can do better. Once they get back to their territories, they’ll be focused on how they can make everything work to further their goals.”

“Speaking of which,” Ludmila said, “how is the ‘trade show’ coming along?”

“Nothing’s fallen outside of our expectations so far,” Clara stretched and yawned. “All parties seem to be satisfied and the next faction’s delegation will be arriving just in time to hear Count Roberbad’s people smugly hint about the advantages that they’ve gained.”

“What advantages have they gained?” Ludmila asked.

Clara sat up and scooted up against Ludmila, wrapping a hand around her waist and leaning against her shoulder.

“Temporary ones,” Clara answered. “Once we’re done with every faction, the first set should have a lead of a few months and most of the changes can’t be fully implemented until the next sowing season.”

“And since they’re trying to minimise the impact of the Undead on their people,” Liane said, “they’re going to have a hell of a time trying to spy on one another. It’ll be fun watching how they compete.”

“Fun…” Ludmila frowned across the court at Liane, “Need I remind you that this is going to affect the lives of millions of people?”

“I know, I know,” Liane waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the Empire, so there are bound to be plenty who slip through the cracks, but this sort of competition tends to improve things overall.”

“Assuming they don’t mismanage their gains.”

“That’s the good thing about the Imperial Administration, yeah? Once they catch a whiff of what’s happening – and I assume that Frianne will inform the Court Council about it – they’ll be constantly hounding everyone to optimise everything. The best part about all of this is that it’s the Empire’s problem, not ours. We just sell them what they want.”

She still wasn’t optimistic about how things would play out. The highly centralised systems of the Empire could give rise to monolithic actions for a country that was far from monolithic. It was, however, as Liane said: the Empire’s problem. Whether the Empire’s actions were the Sorcerous Kingdom’s problem was not for Ludmila and her friends to decide…and it appeared that the Royal Court was content to see where the Empire’s path would lead.

“When do you think they’ll get here?” Liane asked.

“Who?”

“Frianne and them.”

“I told them that the delegation from the Draconic Kingdom would arrive this evening,” Ludmila said, “so I imagine they will arrive with ample time to prepare.”

“I’m beginning to feel sorry for her,” Clara said. “They’ve foisted so much work on the poor woman.”

“It’s still to her advantage,” Liane said. “She becomes more and more indispensable to the Empire, plus she can guilt people into working harder after everything she’s done. How are we for time?”

“Breakfast should be officially wrapping up soon, but everyone’s involved in negotiations with one house or another. We can expect things to drag on for the next little while.”

“Thank the gods. My face is cramped up from smiling all the time. To think that we’re doing this for the next few months…I hope I don’t end up with some weird condition.”

Her friends were so excited about the event going into it and Liane had been the most excited of them all. It was barely a week since it had begun in earnest and now she made it sound as if she had been playing hostess for much longer.

“Didn’t you say it was going to be fun?” Ludmila asked.

“It is,” Liane answered. “If you’ve somehow already forgotten what it’s like to be one of the living, people still get tired when they’re having fun.”

Would she forget? She was fairly certain that she remembered what it felt like to be exhausted, but it was merely a memory that would grow increasingly distant. Perhaps time would twist that memory or it would become obscured by the mists of eternity. The sensations of the living weren’t like events that could be recorded into history or recalled in folklore, after all.

I should ask Lady Shalltear about it.

Immortal minds had to work differently. She clearly didn’t have a perfect recollection of her experiences as Frost Dragons did, but she also couldn’t imagine that her memory would remain that of a Human. Then again, how she might be able to recall an eternity of memories was also beyond her ability to comprehend.

“What are you thinking about?” Clara asked.

“Memory,” Ludmila answered. “Maybe I will eventually forget what it’s like to be Human. Maybe I’ll forget that we ever had this discussion.”

She jerked as Clara poked her in the ribs.

“Hmph,” Clara said, “you seem Human enough. As for your memories, I admit that would be annoying, but only other immortals would be able to call you out on them. What matters is that we’ll always be together, right?”

“Barring some calamity, I suppose,” Ludmila replied. “Speaking of immortals, how is Florine doing with her…thing?”

“Who knows,” Liane shrugged. “It’s barely been a month since she left for the Abelion Hills. She’s probably forgotten all about it while boobing out there. You’d think someone would be more excited about, y’know, immortality.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad approach,” Clara said. “Many would drop everything else to seize the opportunity she has been granted. Doing so would send a very clear message to the Royal Court that service has become a secondary priority.”

“…so sending Florine to the Abelion Hills with the time and power to do anything that she wanted was a test to see what she would do about the thingy?”

“Maybe not specifically,” Clara replied, “but must it be? One’s behaviour in those circumstances would inform the Royal Court of many aspects of one’s character. They’d understandably scrutinise candidates for traits and behaviours that would be problematic in an immortal official.”

“I guess…” Liane put her elbows on her desk and propped her chin in her palms. “Does that mean I should tone things down to get my thingy, too?”

“Of course not,” Ludmila frowned. “Florine has ‘bitten’ Lady Albedo on more than one occasion; Lady Shalltear, too. She still received her item. Our superiors want people who know what they are doing and are confident enough about it to stand their ground even before the Royal Court. Pretending to be nice and well-behaved won’t do you any favours.”

“Meh.”

“Don’t ‘meh’ me, I know you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Meh.”

A displeased sound came from Clara as Ludmila rose from her desk. Since she wouldn’t be able to get any work done, it was probably a better idea to have her friends appear before their guests. Their Maids joined them in the antechambers of the court and accompanied them to the castle’s second floor where the visiting Nobles were still mostly gathered in their respective balcony dining areas.

“Countess Corelyn,” several Nobles at one of the tables rose at Clara’s approach. “Countess Wagner. Good morning.”

“Count Roberbad,” Clara smiled. “I trust that I find you and your family well this morning?”

So this is Rangobart’s father…

Ludmila could see some similarities to the Mage Captain, but Lord Roberbad was overall more squarish. To his left was probably Rangobart’s eldest brother, who was a much closer match to their father.

“Indeed,” Count Roberbad nodded, “thanks to your fine hospitality, every day feels more refreshing than the last. I’ll be loath to leave when the time comes.”

“Who is this gallant new addition to your entourage?” The noblewoman to the Count’s right asked, “One of your Knights, perhaps?”

Across the table from Count Roberbad, Count Völkchenheim went into a fit of coughing. The imperial aristocrats around the table didn’t miss his reaction, but Clara only beamed in response.

“I have the pleasure of introducing you to Ludmila of House Zahradnik,” she said.

“Ludmila of House Zahradnik…” Count Roberbad furrowed his brow in thought, and then his eyes widened. “You mean this is the Baroness Zahradnik from whom we received the invitations to this exposition?”

“I am pleased to see that your agents returned to you unharmed, my lord,” Ludmila said. “Your son, Rangobart, was also quite helpful during the Blister Campaign.”

“I pray you’ll forgive us for our presumption, my lady,” the Count inclined his head slightly. “I’m also glad to hear that my son was of some use to you.”

As expected, the older Noble’s façade of composure was difficult to crack when he was in his element. He had managed to slip in an apology for sending Rangobart to seduce her while making it seem like he had shrewdly manoeuvred his son for some other purpose in front of his peers.

“Viscount Brennenthal has made quite the ascent since I saw him last,” Ludmila said. “House Roberbad must be very proud of his achievements.”

“Oh, we are!” The Count laughed gaily, “He has succeeded far beyond our expectations. We always intended for Rangobart to form a cadet branch, but leaping straight to Viscount was quite something.”

?Uh, is this guy trying to fight you??

Ludmila glanced at Liane, who had donned a pleasant mask just like everyone else around the table.

?That’s probably my fault. I think I accidentally made him think I had a hand in his promotion by saying what I did.?

?…and now he’s trying to get his son back under his influence. Didn’t he send Rangobart into your clutches in the first place??

?He didn’t end up in my ‘clutches’. Well, maybe just a bit.?

“How go your negotiations with House Völkchenheim, Lord Roberbad?” Clara asked.

“We are in accord on many points,” Lord Roberbad answered, “including the fact that we won’t realise the full potential of any trade agreement until the new infrastructure and logistics that you have on display here are adopted. The problem now is that most of the houses in my delegation do not have fiefs bordering the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“I’m certain that any sensible imperial aristocrat will find what we have to offer compelling,” Clara said. “If not, I firmly believe that those who lack the foresight to follow your lead will only fall behind. It is their game to lose.”

Count Roberbad nodded with a grunt.

“One can only hope they know good sense when they see it,” he said. “The politics of the Empire have grown increasingly stagnant and the Emperor is content to see the entire establishment wither away. Our country is doomed to become a soulless machine that does nothing but the bidding of the Imperial Administration if things remain as they are.”

?Oof, heavy.?

For all of their infighting, the imperial nobility seemed to understand what was happening to the Empire. She had noted this with the Dowager Duchess von Gushmond and several other Nobles in the Empire. Now, that same awareness was being displayed by Count Roberbad.

This presented a potential quirk in the Job Class System. If challenge led to growth, then the Nobles who managed to thrive in the highly competitive and treacherous Empire would be relatively high level. With those levels came raw capability and uncanny insights into various fields related to one’s vocation. Unfortunately, it seemed the past set precedents that probably made it next to impossible for a Noble to change their stance once they achieved those levels.

If this was the case, it went a long way into explaining why the Royal Court of Re-Estize remained in a perpetual deadlock and how the Emperor could so easily keep his vassals suppressed. Now that she thought about it, the way that Queen Oriculus guided her court indicated that she knew about the phenomena and actively prevented it from ever happening in her kingdom.

This Job Class System is more a curse than a blessing. We’re fortunate to have Lady Shalltear guiding us.

It took an hour for Clara to visit with the Nobles at each of the tables, at which point they shifted their focus to the evening’s reception. The details of the delegation’s arrival were somewhat vague, stating only that they needed an out-of-the-way spot prepared, as well as a stateroom roughly the size of the one that Ludmila and her friends had been accommodated in during their time in the Draconic Kingdom.

“What do you think they meant by an out-of-the-way spot?” Liane asked.

“They may be using a magical technique to get here,” Clara offered. “We offered to teleport them over, but they declined. I’m not sure how else they’d cover the distance so quickly.”

“So a secluded place where not too many people might get in the way,” Ludmila said, recalling the teleportation gazebo in E-Rantel. “How about the western garden?”

“I hope they won’t mind,” Clara said. “The groundskeepers are still working on it. Ludmila, could you–”

Ludmila raised a hand in front of herself. A set of steps steadily approached, belonging to a sandy-haired imperial Noblewoman in a frilly blue dress. She reached the top of the stairs to the eastern atrium and lowered her head respectfully.

“Countess Corelyn?”

“Yes, how may I help you, Baroness Lisenthal?”

“The ladies and I were wondering if there is a dress code for the reception this evening,” Lady Lisenthal said as she raised her head. “Or perhaps certain articles we shouldn’t wear…”

“Ah, about that,” Clara said. “I fully intended to have everyone representing their respective cultures. As for any improper articles…”

“Have you seen the Draconic Kingdom’s fashion?” Liane asked.

Lady Lisenthal’s eyes went from Clara to Liane.

“Their fashion, my lady? I’m afraid not. The Empire has no direct dealings with the Draconic Kingdom, though there are rumours about roads being built to the south.”

“Hold on a sec.”

Liane reached into the Infinite Haversack at her waist and rummaged around. The latter part shouldn’t have been necessary – it felt like more than half of Liane’s actions were some form of showmanship. She hadn’t yet figured out whether Liane was aware of it or not.

Several moments later, Liane fished out a set of flimsy-looking garments. Rose came around to help hold the outfit in front of Liane. Lady Lisenthal covered her face in her hands, going red to the tips of her ears.

“Y-You wore that?” She peeked at Liane through her fingers.

“Yep!” Liane grinned, “We all did.”

“I didn’t,” Clara sniffed.

“The no-fun faction doesn’t count,” Liane said. “It’s regular fashion down in the Draconic Kingdom, anyway. Everyone from commoners to aristocrats wears some version of this. The heat and humidity down there will kill ya if you wear a big, fancy dress like we do up here. Wanna try one on?”

Lady Lisenthal violently shook her head. After she retreated, Clara led them out a side entrance to the castle grounds.

“Ludmila,” she said, “could you help arrange additional security? I have to go and make sure our guests don’t land in a pile of dead leaves.”

“Alright.”

“I should get over to the border,” Liane said. “The next bunch of imperials is due soon. Do you think I still need to hide the Soul Eaters?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Clara said. “They’re from the Engelfurt region, but I doubt they’re fine around the Undead.”

They went their separate ways, and Ludmila went to inspect the perimeter of the west garden. Initially meant to be Clara’s private garden, it had become a place where the groundskeepers tried all sorts of personal projects after Lord Mare started working on the rooftop for Lady Shalltear’s court. After making a full round, she went to find Clara, Taiya, and Aemilia, who were in a small clearing with a few benches where the castle staff would sometimes come out for breaks.

“We’re using this spot?” Ludmila asked.

“Mhm,” Clara answered. “We’ll take them straight into the castle, so I don’t think we need anything too fancy. I just didn’t want them to appear in front of a giant mess.”

Ludmila called for an Elder Lich to come join them and arranged for a dozen Death Knights to stand guard nearby. Clara returned to attend to her guests while Ludmila stayed behind to review the new sentries.

“How come we don’t have ceremonial garb for honour guards?” Ludmila asked as she picked off a leaf skewered on one of their armour spikes.

“The servitors already have arms and armour created by the Supreme One,” the Elder Lich following her around answered. “There is no greater honour than to wield that which they have already been bestowed.”

She looked up at the Death Knight, but it didn’t offer any feedback. Even between Warden’s Vale and Corelyn County, there appeared to be a distinct difference in culture between the Undead servitors. Things were much better than in other parts of the Sorcerous Kingdom where they had next to no interaction with the citizens and few opportunities to form an identity for themselves, but she had hoped they would be further along.

“What criteria were used to choose these sentries?”

“Their performance record in Corelyn Harbour was deemed satisfactory and they are familiar with the castle grounds.”

“In other words, they earned the qualifications for the post. Wouldn’t it make sense if they wear something that signifies that achievement?”

“This one fails to recognise the merit in such measures. What each servitor is capable of is already known to those responsible for deployment.”

I bet Lord Cocytus would latch onto the idea more readily.

She would have to put together a comprehensive proposal at some point. It felt strange how the Sorcerous Kingdom took an interest in the development of its citizens, but not the Undead servitors that existed alongside them. If a Death Knight served for a thousand years, it should have some visible record of that service for everyone to recognise.

Once she was satisfied with the security arrangements, she returned indoors to join Clara in the main exhibition hall. Fortunately, they were content to leave her alone and focus all of their energy on Clara and the rest of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s nobility. By and large, they remained unchanged from the various examples of civilian nobility that she had brushed up against during her visit to the Empire. The main difference now was that they were solidly committed to forging new paths to power using what the Sorcerous Kingdom had to offer and their myriad avenues of discourse reflected that.

“Countess Corelyn,” Count Roberbad said as he stood at the centre of a group of his allies, “in light of the Empire’s new expansionary drive, what do you think we can do to maintain our relevance?”

They’ve gotten quite cosy with her.

It sounded like they were already treating Clara as one of them, or at least a fellow civilian aristocrat. Beyond that, they were seeking her out for her opinions despite her gender and young age. At the same time, they occasionally glanced at Ludmila as if she was an Imperial Knight.

“You’re referring to the impending growth of the martial aristocracy?”

“Indeed, my lady,” Lord Roberbad nodded. “Expansion is spearheaded by the Imperial Knights, and so the Imperial Knights are awarded with the new lands conquered by the Empire. We understand that this will ultimately bring wealth and prosperity to the Empire, but, sooner or later, the agendas of the Imperial Army will dominate our politics.”

“I won’t claim to be an expert on imperial affairs, my lord,” Clara replied, “but aren’t you restricting your thinking to past experience? The Empire is a competitive place – partially because of the conditions imposed upon you by the Emperor, and partially because its expansion has slowed considerably over the generations, leaving limited resources to compete over. Similarly, you have become accustomed to the idea that the Imperial Knights tend to be the only ones awarded new lands, usually cut out of the former territories of the attainted. In the future, however, do you truly believe that this will be the case?”

The imperial aristocrats exchanged looks in the wake of Clara’s question. Count Roberbad allowed the silence to stretch on for a few seconds before speaking again.

“What are you proposing?” He asked.

“Rather than a proposal,” Clara answered, “it is merely an observation. The Emperor favours the Imperial Army as a matter of necessity, but new realities will force the Empire to reassess what is truly necessary. The Imperial Knights may conquer new frontiers, but who is it that develops them? Who manages the bulk of the Empire’s industry, wealth, and trade? Every house in your party has sons and daughters who serve in the Imperial Administration: is that service less worthy than that of an Imperial Knight? Without the participation of your houses, imperial expansion will be a pale shadow of what it could be.”

“She’s right!” A nobleman standing next to Count Roberbad said, “As much as the Emperor suppresses us, we are still essential for the Empire! The frontier will remain a frontier without our houses providing the Empire with seneschals and bureaucrats for the administration. Our children should be afforded the same considerations as the children of the martial aristocracy!”

Heads nodded in agreement throughout the crowd. If Ludmila recalled correctly, their children in the Imperial Administration did receive the same considerations as the martial scions who joined the Imperial Knights, at least as far as financial compensation went. The main difference was that an Imperial Knight had more opportunities to do something flashy that landed them a title. To a Noble, that difference was everything.

“I believe you already have all of the tools necessary to achieve what you desire for the future of your houses,” Clara said. “The proper application of everything you have at your disposal will make it clear that you are indispensable to the Empire.”

Of course, leveraging what the Sorcerous Kingdom had to offer would make it even more the case, but everyone seemed to understand that implicitly. The excited discussion continued even as Liane appeared with the next set of imperial guests. Ludmila shook her head as they, too, were infected by the newfound fervour of Count Roberbad’s party. Clara had to have timed things on purpose.

Liane came to stand alongside Clara and Ludmila, her eyes going from guest to guest.

?Uh…what did you do??

?I gave Count Roberbad’s group one last little push.?

?Little push? It looks like you’ve swept up the new people, too. They didn’t even get our presentation yet!?

Clara only smiled in response, allowing the activity in the hall to continue uninterrupted. An interruption did finally come, however, in the form of Frianne Gushmond. As one, the Nobles hushed at the appearance of the Imperial Princess. Frianne sent Clara a small look of confusion, coming over to speak in low tones.

“Are they plotting something?”

“That’s a silly question,” Clara answered. “How was your tour of the western duchy?”

“We actually spent most of our time in E-Rantel,” Frianne replied.

“We even saw the Sorcerer King!” Dimoiya gushed, “He’s super nice!”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Ludmila smiled. “I only wish that everyone would realise that.”

“Wow, I’ve never seen her smile like that before!”

Ludmila wiped the smile off of her face. A silly madness always took root in her whenever she thought about the Sorcerer King.

“Did we miss the Draconic Kingdom delegation’s arrival?” Frianne asked, “I still don’t know what all that excitement was about.”

“They should be here soon,” Clara answered. “Since you’re the only member of the Imperial Dynasty present, I suppose you should be there with us when they arrive.”

“Did you bring your liquor?” Liane asked.

“I did!” Dimoiya said, “Hopefully it will be enough to get the Queen. Rangobart, help me carry it!”

“What…”

Viscount Brennenthal obligingly walked off after Dimoiya. When the time came for the Draconic Kingdom’s delegation to arrive, they gathered in the west garden. In the space between the wooden benches at the centre of the garden, Liane and Dimoiya arranged their wine bottles in a pair of concentric circles.

“Prez,” Dimoiya said, “what do you think of this formation?”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Frianne said. “Never mind doing it with liquor, the Queen of a country isn’t a summon.”

“I gotta maximise my chances! I’m on a roll and I’m not about to let it end!”

“Dimoiya seems much more energetic than before,” Ludmila noted. “Did something happen?”

“It’s complicated,” Frianne said. “Or maybe not. Either way, the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs is going to be thrown into chaos when we get back.”

After fussing around with the formation of wine bottles for a bit, Dimoiya and Liane returned to the group. Then, at the appointed time, Draudillon Oriculus, the Black Scale Dragon Lord and Queen of the Draconic Kingdom, appeared right in the centre of the formation.

“It worked?” Liane said.

Dimoiya’s mouth fell open.

“Hm?” Queen Oriculus looked at her feet, “What’s this…”

Beside the Queen, Marshal Saroukhanyan knelt to retrieve one of the bottles and presented it for the Queen’s inspection.

“Oh,” Queen Oriculus’ expression brightened, “someone has exceptional taste!”

“Dimoiya Erex here prepared it for your arrival, Your Majesty,” Liane gestured at the ecstatic imperial scion.

“Is that so?” The Queen peered at Dimoiya, “Hm…what a curious soul. Soruel, give her a bottle.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Salacia Soruel came forward with a large black bottle cradled in her arms. Dimoiya’s eyes widened.

“Is that…”

“Umu,” Queen Oriculus nodded. “Black Scale. We brought quite a bit to help spice up Countess Corelyn’s event here, but that one is yours.”

Dimoiya sucked in a gasp, her eyes welling with tears.

“I’ll serve you forever, Your Majesty!” She cried.

“O-Oi, don’t go betraying your country so easily! We don’t want that blonde brat hating Us more than he already does.”

The small group that had appeared with Queen Oriculus left the circle of bottles. They were all familiar faces: members of the Queen’s palace staff that went on to assume positions in her court.

“Will you be attending the reception, Your Majesty?” Clara asked.

“It’s a function for Nobles, no?” Queen Oriculus answered, “Royalty showing up would put everyone on edge. Besides, it appears that I have many new friends to make an acquaintance with.”

Ludmila knew that Queen Oriciulus had an appreciation for liquor, but it was the first time she had ever heard anyone refer to wine bottles as ‘friends’.

“In that case,” Clara said, “I should at least make one introduction before you leave. This is Frianne von Gushmond, the new Imperial Head Court Mage.”

Frianne lowered her head in a deep curtsey.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty,” she said. “I wasn’t aware that you were such a powerful magic caster. Teleportation is magic of the Fifth Tier.”

“By the measures of your magic, yes,” Queen Oriculus said. “But Primal Sorcery – what you may know as Wild Magic – does not have ‘tiers’. There is only the desired effect and the cost. Something like this is trivial to figure out once one puts their mind to it.”

“The cost…I’ve heard that Wild Magic consumes souls. Is that true?”

“It does and it doesn’t. Overall, it’s a simplistic way to put it, but I suppose the true terminology or concept does not exist in your language or perception. If I were to frame it in similar terms, my ‘passengers’ here all contributed to the cost of the effect.”

“You took their souls?”

“Just a bit,” the Queen shrugged. “It’s not as if I was casting a spell meant to wipe out a country. The missing stuff will probably be back by the time they finish dinner.”

Frianne fell into a deep silence after that. The members of the Draconic Kingdom’s delegation looked perfectly fine, so they could only take Queen Oriculus at her word. Clara bid her footmen to deliver their guests’ luggage to their suite before turning back to converse with Queen Oriculus.

“This may sound a bit strange, Your Majesty,” she said, “but you have grown an unbelievable amount since we last saw one another.”

Ludmila eyed the Queen. She was preoccupied with their surroundings so hadn’t taken note of it yet, but her appearance was a bit too different from the one she remembered. She was no longer the pubescent girl that they had met in the Draconic Kingdom, but a young woman three or four years older. Ludmila’s first thought was that it might be an illusion cast by the Queen, but her Truesight didn’t reveal any alternate forms superimposed over her present appearance.

“Pretty good no?” Queen Oriculus smiled and placed her hands on her hips, “Our subjects no longer need to be lolicons, so We are working to adjust things a bit.”

“I see…” Clara said, “How have your people been faring?”

“The food situation is tight even with the Sorcerous Kingdom’s generous assistance,” the Queen replied, “but we will recover as we always have. Above all else, the people are glad that they won’t be subjected to Beastman raids anymore.”

“Have the security patrols encountered any Beastmen since we left?” Ludmila asked.

For the first time since her appearance in the garden, Queen Oriculus’ warm and lighthearted atmosphere melted away.

“They have not caused us any trouble since they were driven out,” she said, “and I fear that their troubles have only begun.”