Work Text:
The Villainess quits
Back with Laziness
Another story? Yeah... though this is a bit of a silly one. Just something I came up with while taking a walk in the local park and listening to Arctic Monkeys – Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino two days ago. Same as that song, this fic will be a trip. Now I'm gonna ramble some more about how I came up with this craziness. Feel free to skip it. xD
So... someone commented on IAmBitch how they thought it was the most wholesome Shield Hero romance story and wished that there was a story with similar themes, only with Raphtalia as the main love interest (minus the hate fucks). I have to say, I agree. Some solid Naofumi/Raphtalia stories wouldn't be amiss. And though I have enough stories as it is, the thought kinda stuck with me, and I thought, Why not write a time travel story where an adult Raphtalia dies at the confrontation with the Pope and gets sent back to before the Summoning and tries to save Naofumi? Well, the thought wasn't too bad, and while I had some funny scenes in my mind, the story felt like it would go nowhere (and would be weird to make it smutty without feeling forced). It also got me into this awkward position where Malty kinda has to be the stupid antagonist, or else there's no good conflict. And I obviously resent that. So I wondered, What if Malty travels back in time as well? Hmm... so another threesome story? No. Even without the threesome part. Just no. No matter how I spun it, it was just stupid. Only the scenario where it's only Malty being sent back made sense after a while. Then I remembered an old story idea where Malty is a lazy drunk who just wants to be left alone, and it seemed like the perfect mix. Yeah... Does anyone know Korean Webcomics, also known as Manhwa? (If you don't, be glad and stay away from them, especially the 18+ ones.) Anyway, there are those where someone gets reincarnated as the villainess in a novel (a novel so terrible, plotless, and chliché that it would never get published), and they try everything to stay out of the plot but fail and fall in love with the Hero or Heroine. xD They're all freaking terrible (at least the ones I read), but the idea certainly has potential. Anyway, that's where the title (and some of the themes) come from. Also, I really wanted to write some Malty/Raphtalia, and while I have two other potential story ideas for the pairing (which I've outlined some time ago), I'm too lazy to write those; they are too serious. And any romance between Malty and Raphtalia in BitchSlayer is about 200-300k words away. So yeah...
Rated M for language and too much drinking. And sex, of course. Some violence too, I guess. Oh, and character death.
Naofumi pairing is Naofumi/Keel/Rifana, but it's not the focus of the fic. Malty/Raphtalia is. There'll only be F/F smut.
Crouching, Malty clutched her chest, phantom pain cursing through her where that damn Demi had just struck her with her stupid Magic Sword. She felt a little ill from losing so much mana all of a sudden. Around her, the battle continued. The Shield Hero's Filolial abomination was screeching some nonsense; Naofumi and Motoyasu were arguing, weapons clashing.
Can't they shut up? Malty thought, groaning. Someone made to grab her arm but she shook them off violently. She breathed in and out. In and out. Then it was suddenly silent, only muffled voices being audible above the steady humming of the Electric Cage she'd summoned. What's going on? She looked around. Everyone was gone. In the center of the Electric Cage stood that skill of the Shield Hero: Shield Prison. Why was everyone inside there? Faint arguing originated from the metal construct. What was going on? Something green in the sky drew her attention. It was another of the Shield Hero's skills: Air Strike Shield. A second one appeared above, both parallel to the ground and directly above the Shield Prison. Frowning, Malty shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand...and all the blood drained from her face at what she saw.
"No," she gasped. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She must be imagining things. There was no way they'd actually... But there it was in the sky, a distant light, coming closer. She'd heard of stories of powerful rituals being used in wartime to wipe out whole armies. She'd never thought she'd actually see one of those first-hand. At the very least not directed at her.
Those bastards! How dare they! Malty fumed, frantically shooting to her feet. It was their plan all along. They never cared for my goals! I was just the bait! She raced toward the Shield Prison, not wasting any time to bang at it with a fist.
"Let me inside!" she demanded. "Open this damn thing! Please!"
"I can't, stupid Bitch," the Shield Hero's muffled voice came from inside. "And even if I could, I wou—"
"Naofumi!" Motoyasu snapped. "You open this up or—"
"Or nothing! Or we'll all die. I can't summon another so quickly!"
They kept arguing, screaming. Malty kept banging against the thick metal. "Please! Help me! PLEASE!" Tears started gathering in her eyes, her heart hammering like never before in her life. The hum of the magic from above intensified. "Please! I'll do anything! I'll admit to everything! Please, Naofumi! NAOFUMI!"
"I can't."
Malty suppressed the urge to curse them all, stopped her efforts, and turned around, pushing herself off the metal ball. She made toward the Electric Cage, breaking into a sprint. Please God, please! With a desperate scream she jumped, arms raised to shield her face. Pain shot through her when she made contact with the electricity, and she was thrown backward, landing harshly on the dirt. She rolled, body spasming, the taste of blood in her mouth. When she regained her bearings and looked up, she saw the ritual spell rapidly descending upon her. She screamed. The Air Strike Shields shattered one by one. She screamed some more, afraid. So afraid, like never before in her life. The spell hit, and the world went white. Then nothing.
Malty screamed. And still, she screamed. Suddenly, she realized how she wasn't outside anymore. It was darker. She was sitting in a big four-poster bed...and people were gathered around her, regarding her with expressions of worry and exhaustion.
A dream? she thought, heart palpitating, breathing erratically. She confirmed that, yes, she was in a bed, wearing her red nightgown. I died, or didn't I? Did I really just dream all of that? Then why wasn't she in her tent or some inn room? No, the room she was in was definitely her room in the castle; there was her portrait smiling at her from the opposite wall. And she recognized the people that were all talking above one another, asking whether she was fine and if she needed anything: her servants.
What's going on? was her last thought before she fainted.
When Malty awoke the next time, it was with a calm mind. She was still in her bedroom. Only one of the servants was sitting next to her bed: A middle-aged woman, a maid. Malty didn't know her name. If she ever had, she had forgotten.
"What happened?" Malty asked. I died. The Church betrayed me. Killed me. Just a stepping stone in their insane plan to wipe out the "Shield Devil".
The maid smiled. "You had a nightmare, Princess. But don't worry, everything's fine now. Would you like something to drink?"
"I... Yes, please." Malty greedily gulped down the proffered water, then sat back against the headboard with a sigh. She blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation.
A knock sounded against the double doors that led from her living room to her bedroom.
"Yes?" she called instinctively.
A well-dressed, middle-aged man entered. He was one of her father's servants, sometimes sent to her rooms to summon her for dinner or other events. "Princess," he said. "Urgent news of the Wave and Lord Seaetto has arrived. Would you please make yourself presentable and join your father in the throne room?"
A sense of deja-vu hit her, and Malty had to gasp at the implications. She pinched herself; it hurt.
"I'm..." she said. "I'm not feeling well. Please leave."
The man bowed and obeyed, the double doors falling shut behind him. Malty remembered this day. She'd lived it once before, after all. It was a few days after the first Wave had hit. Mirellia had left two weeks ago to meet with the other countries' leaders, and reports of the damage would now be delivered to her father. Last time, Malty had rejoiced that it was that Demi-human village that had been destroyed in the Wave. Had called it divine justice. Now, she was too shocked to think anything.
She was back. Back in time. But how? She'd heard stories of people claiming to travel through time, but she'd thought them fabricated. A cheap way to impress.
A slow grin spread across her face.
"Princess?"
Oh, the woman was still there. "Leave," Malty ordered.
As soon as the door closed after the servant, Malty shot up and practically jumped out of her bed, landing barefoot on the soft, carpeted floor. A giggle escaped her, and it didn't take long for it to change into full-blown laughter.
She knew exactly what had happened: She'd been sent back in time—given a second chance—because the universe knew that her death there hadn't been right. Because it was her destiny to be Queen. It just confirmed what she'd always known: That she was special. That she was destined for greatness.
I'm going to make them all pay! Malty thought, cackling, strutting back and forth on the carpet, nightgown brushing against her calves. I'm gonna use my future knowledge to show them their place! That bastard Naofumi, for making my life difficult every step of the way! And those bastards of the Church, for betraying their rightful ruler!
Malty stopped laughing and had to gasp for breath. She let herself fall back on her bed and stared at the canopy, wiping tears out of her eyes, a wide smile splitting her face.
But first, she thought, I'm going to relax.
It was as she laid there in her wonderfully comfortable bed that a thought occurred to her: I'm going to have to do it all again, don't I? All those hours spent on the road, chasing after the Shield Hero and trying to defame him. Chasing her sister. Sleeping like a commoner, in cheap inn beds or her tent when they were still on the road by nighttime. All those times manipulating Motoyasu, playing the cute girl Myne. She'd have to do that all again?
Uhhh... What a bother. And now that she knew the Church wasn't to be trusted, what would she even do? Last time, she'd turned to them for help. But now, she couldn't do that. What could she do, then? Even with future knowledge? That damned Shield Hero has proven so resourceful; he'd just refute her plans once again, even if she changed them up.
But they have to pay! Malty fumed. They have to suffer for what they did to me! Or didn't they? What if she hadn't truly traveled back in time, but it was actually just a very vivid vision of the future. A premonition. That sounded more plausible than time travel. And perhaps it wasn't a sign of her divine right to be Queen, but a warning? That there was only death awaiting her on her current path? A premonition of death?
What am I thinking? Malty wondered, and she could feel the headache approaching. Giving up? Let Mother and that little brat win?! Ridiculous!
She sat up, shook her head, and resolved to think about it at a later date, then grabbed the little bell on her bedside table and rang.
A servant—the same woman as before—entered after a few moments.
"Have some breakfast prepared for me, please."
The maid curtsied and went to turn away, but Malty wasn't done yet.
"And I wish to take a long bath. And... I'd like some wine for my breakfast. And... send for a masseuse. And... send someone to my father, telling him that I don't wish to be bothered today."
The maid was now staring at her oddly.
"That's all. Off you go then. Shoo." Malty made a careless hand gesture, and the maid left.
The Heroes wouldn't be summoned for another week. She'd have time to think about what to do until then.
After two days of long baths, extensive breakfasts, wonderful massages, drinking way too much wine, and other indulgences, the thought of giving up her ambitions didn't sound so unreasonable anymore.
Malty released a long, pleased groan as the masseuse's skilled hands dug wonderfully into her skin somewhere around her shoulders. Especially those thumbs were doing wonders. God, how I love those thumbs. Completely bare, she was lying face-down on a lounger she'd let bring to her rooms for exactly this purpose. It was probably the size of a small bed, and pillows were placed in such a way that she could lie face-down for prolonged periods of time without putting too much pressure on her breasts. She'd, more than once, fallen asleep like that. Naked when anyone could enter. She just didn't care anymore.
I've missed this so much, Malty thought, releasing a pleased hum as the masseuse's hands wandered slowly down her back, wonderfully kneading her muscles. This is what life is all about. Pleasure. Just...relaxing and indulging.
She'd extensively contemplated her situation these past two days. And she'd come to the conclusion that she'd just keep going like this...and not care about being Queen anymore.
Really, why did she even want to be Queen? Have all that responsibility? Be pestered by people all the time? To lead a country? Organize the defense of the Waves? She'd have no free time! No more massages. No more taking naps during the day. No more drinking whenever she wanted. To put in all that effort, only to achieve a less desirable state? To risk her life for it? It was kind of ridiculous, if she was being honest.
The Malty from the future was an idiot, Malty decided. I'm just going to stay out of things and enjoy life however I damn well please. Naofumi and the Pope can kill each other, and I'll just watch on the sidelines with a glass of wine in my hand. I'll have the last laugh.
"Hmmm..."
The masseuse's hands were doing wonders on her ass now, but regrettably, didn't linger there for long and moved on to her thighs.
"Go up again, please."
"Princess?"
"Give my butt some more love, will you?"
"Of— of course, Princess."
Malty released a pleased hum as her ass cheeks were getting kneaded. Perhaps it was more of a moan. She had the urge to spread her legs and just did it, not questioning anything when it came to pleasure. Would the masseuse pick up on it and massage her where Malty wanted?
Unfortunately, she didn't.
Malty just released a sad sigh, too content and too drunk to get mad about it.
"Is... is that enough, Princess?"
"Hmmmm-hmmm."
Malty enjoyed the rest of her massage, then readjusted the pillows beneath her and repositioned onto her back.
The masseuse was packing up her things now. She was a pretty girl, a little older than Malty. Over the past two days, her straight, shoulder-length black hair, dark blue eyes, button nose, and lovely, graceful hands had been a reoccurring part of Malty's daydreams. She often wondered how good it would feel to have those hands massage more...forbidden...places. To stare into those blue eyes while skillful fingers pleasured her.
Malty let out a shaky breath.
Perhaps she wasn't content and drunk enough to let those daydreams be daydreams anymore, after all. A towel to cover herself—as well as new clothes—lay nearby, but Malty ignored them. An excited grin on her face, she reclined on her lounger and spread her legs wide open.
"Wait," Malty called when the masseuse made to leave.
The girl turned around...and immediately averted her eyes. "P-princess?"
"Come here."
Keeping her eyes lowered, she obeyed.
"Look at me. What is your name?"
"Lula, Your Highness."
"Lula... I have a favor to ask.
"A favor?"
"Yes... I want you to take your lovely hands...and put them on my pussy. Can you do that for me, Lula?"
"I, I... Princess, please..." Lula averted her eyes, blushing.
"Better yet, I want you to put your head in-between my legs and give me a good lick. And...massage my breasts while you do it." Yes, that sounded good. She expected to breach new heights of pleasure like that.
"I... I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I'm not a sex worker."
Irritation coursed through Malty. She pursed her lips. "What's the big deal? I don't see a problem. I'm well-groomed and clean, I assure you. You'll receive extra payment, naturally."
The girl met her eyes with fear in her lovely blue ones.
Malty truly didn't understand the girl's hesitation. Why would anyone refuse this generous offer? If Malty was a servant and in the fortunate position of Lula where she had a mistress of unparalleled beauty, she'd jump at the opportunity Malty was offering now. To have her hands all across her beautiful mistress's body, and then being allowed to taste that sweetness between her legs and fondle those perfectly round breasts... What was not to like? Hell, she'd do it even without extra payment!
A little moan escaped Malty.
Lula squeaked. "I'm sorry. S-sorry, Your Highness." She turned, grabbed her things, and stumbled toward the door, uttering apologies all the while. "Please don't hurt me!" was the last thing she said before vanishing behind the door.
Malty stared, dumbfounded. Hurt her? Why would she do that? Arousal gone, Malty covered herself with the towel, relaxed against the pillows, and reached for her wine goblet, which stood on a table next to her lounger among an assortment of wine bottles from all over the kingdom.
The guard in front of her door briefly poked his head inside to ask if everything was alright, and she told him off, contemplating Lula's reaction.
An annoyed pout slowly worked itself on her face. It was probably a result of Past-Malty's stupid actions. She'd had a penchant for changing toys quickly...and getting rid of them once they bored her. Perhaps she'd even let someone be beaten for offending her. She didn't think she'd ever gotten someone killed—Mirellia would have prevented that—but she was probably responsible for more than a few staff changes around the castle grounds.
Well, no more. Malty congratulated herself on how, during the past two days, she hadn't once snapped at a servant. What if one of them took offense and tried to hurt her back? Poisoned her wine? She didn't fancy dying stupidly like Future-Malty and made it an effort to be nice to everyone, within reason.
Malty let her head loll to the left, staring at the wall where her armor and sword hung beside a large ornate mirror. She'd sent someone with specific instructions to procure that from Erhard's shop this morning. Now it adorned the wall in her living room, acting as a constant reminder of the strenuous life that would never be. And it also immensely reduced the temptation to betray Naofumi after all, now that she was already in possession of it.
She raised her wine goblet. "To a long, peaceful, and pleasureful life full of laziness," she toasted her distorted reflection on the breastplate and downed the rest of her wine. She set the goblet aside, closed her eyes, and relaxed back into the pillows with a long sigh. Perhaps she'd take a short nap and then join her father for dinner? She hadn't spoken with him since waking up that day. It didn't take long for her to doze off, and when she regained her bearings, she picked up her bell and rung for servants to help her get dressed.
Aultcray was, of course, ecstatic about the presence of his favorite daughter. Malty assured him that everything was alright, and he brought her up to date with the current situation of the Church and the planned Hero summoning.
Then, Aultcray, a frown on his aged face, told her of a confused, distraught woman who had quit her job and left the castle in a hurry earlier. Malty was afraid to ask, but when curiosity got the better of her and she so did anyway, it turned out that it was indeed her masseuse.
"What's the matter, my daughter? Did something happen with that woman?"
"I..." Malty kept her gaze on her half-eaten plate of exquisite food. There was the urge to lie, to say that it was all the masseuse's fault. But what did it matter? She wasn't pretending to be the perfect daughter anymore. She didn't care about reclaiming her title anymore. There was no reason to hide her misdeeds anymore. She had nothing to prove. Nothing to hide.
"It's my fault," Malty told her father, carefully watching his reaction. "I've demanded something unreasonable from her and wouldn't take no for an answer. I probably made her feel threatened, though it wasn't my intention. I'm sorry."
"It's alright." Aultcray smiled. "We all make mistakes."
Malty was a bit confused that there was no disappointment in her father's gaze but didn't think too much of it. "Could you... could you please make someone send a note to her and explain that it was just a misunderstanding and that I'm sorry?" It wouldn't do if the masseuse held a grudge that could come back to bite her in the ass someday.
"Of course. Though I'll say, an apology is best delivered personally. I'm not saying you should chase after some commoner, but it wouldn't go amiss if you were to compose the letter yourself."
"You're right." Malty smiled, glad for her wise father. "I shall do that."
Aultrcray nodded. "And I shall ensure she receives it."
"Thank you, father. For understanding."
"Always. My sweet child. Always."
Malty smiled, thinking hard. "Say, Papa, do we keep track of all the servants that ever worked here and why they were dismissed and punished, if they were?"
"Uhm..." Aultrcray scratched his beard. "I suppose. But you shouldn't bore yourself with such—"
Malty interrupted him with a raised hand. She'd already started now; why not confess some more of her sins? It was kind of freeing. "Please don't be mad, Papa, but some of the servants you dismissed on my account probably didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes, I lied to get them into trouble." She smiled guiltily and shrugged.
He was staring at her, mouth hanging open a little.
"Anyway, I'm sorry about that. And I want to make sure that everyone who has fallen victim to my lies will get compensated and receives an apology." She wasn't going to take any chances this time around.
"I... I'm not sure what to say, Malty. I..." Aultcray looked a little shaken now. After a few seconds of having a deep frown on his face, he cleared his throat. "Well, whatever the reasons, I'm glad you're trying to make up for it now."
Malty smiled. "So, about those records...?"
"Ahem, yes, I'll have someone show them to you."
Now? she thought with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Perhaps I didn't think this through. Indeed, on second thought, it sounded like a lot of work: to read through various records, rack her brain if anyone among those was due to her actions, and then take actions to compensate the offended party. She released a pained groan.
"I'll..." Malty said. "I'll start tomorrow. Thank you for listening. And good night, father." She nodded and excused herself. As she made the strenuous ascent to her rooms on the third floor—dinner had been on the second—she contemplated what to do next. Perhaps she'd spend the time before bedtime relaxing in a steaming bath with a goblet of good wine at the ready while she dictated for a servant to write her apology to Lula? Yes, that sounded good. Efficiently lazy.
But more importantly: What wine should she drink?
Maybe I'll try that one from the Seaetto region? she thought as she reentered her rooms, a little out of breath. You can say what you want about Demis, but they know how to make some tasty wine.
Short chapters, yay. (It's kind of refreshing when you don't have to plan each individual chapter's structure.) The story is a bit random for now, but what do you think of this madness? I've got it almost completely planned out, but I'd love to hear any speculation, thoughts, and suggestions, anyway. :)
Religious (and other) Troubles
I usually don't respond to guest reviews, but I'll have to give a shoutout to the french review. Thanks to online translation, I could easily make sense of it. It was also fun to see how much (read: little) I remember from my French classes in school. Thanks for all the suggestions! The story will go in a bit of a different direction, but I'll keep your suggestions in mind for later on. :)
And while I'm at it...
AniDi: Thanks! In regards to the pairing: Including Naofumi wouldn't be possible with how the story is supposed to go. If I were to find a way to include him, it would be a completely different story. That said, I could potentially write a sequel (or Part 2) for the story where the pairing would be increased to a threesome. But for the 100k words (optimistic, will probably become longer) this story is supposed to be, it'll be Malty/Raphtalia. I guess I'll see once I get there.
Only a single day of righting Past-Malty's misdeeds, and Malty felt like she had a permanent headache. All the torturous reading aside, she had to constantly talk with servants and question them about other servants. Because, well, Malty barely remembered any of their names. Which made it a little difficult to identify any of her victims.
Malty released a pained grown, head in her hands, eyes closed, and gathered herself. This is necessary, she thought, You're neither that idiot Past-Malty nor Future-Malty. You want to live and live long. You can do this. She nodded. She knew she needed to do this, but why did it have to be so damn difficult?! If this weren't a situation of life and death she'd have quit hours ago.
Malty opened her eyes and took a sip of her wine while she looked at her armor and sword on the wall. I can do this. She placed the goblet carefully on the round table next to her writing desk and focused back on the man in front of her.
"So," she said, "you claim that I said you stomped on my toes in the hall what... 5 years ago, and you'd been beaten up because of it?"
The man, a bald, elderly servant that worked as a kitchen aide, nodded.
"Well, my sincerest apologies. It was childish and stupid of me. I hope you don't hold a grudge. Please accept this money as compensation for your pain."
On the top right corner of her desk, which had been positioned in the center of her living room with the door in front and windows behind, stood a hand-sized golden bowl and a larger silver bowl that had more in common with a large pot one might use for cooking than anything connected with money. Malty took a handful of silver coins out of it and spread them on her desk, the money clacking against the spotless hardwood. One by one, she counted 30 silver and shoved them aside, dividing them from the seven surplus coins, reached into the left drawer of her desk to take out one of the numerous small money pouches she'd put there, and proceeded to slowly shove the coins inside.
This is so bothersome! she thought as she was done with half the coins, biting back the urge to release an irritated sigh. Why can't there be some spell to sort the money I want into a bag without all this work?! There was a surprising amount of dexterity required to organize money and people like this. She felt like her hands were brittle and dented from all the coins she'd gathered, dry pages turned, and writing done. A long bath followed by an extensive hand massage is in order for this evening. Perhaps both at the same time.
Finally done, Malty closed the bag, gestured for the man to step closer, and handed it to him with a smile. "30 silver coins. Please accept my sincere apologies."
The man took the money pouch with a hum and a wide grin, and Malty sincerely hoped that his missing teeth hadn't been from the beating she'd caused. Of course, the man looked rather harmless, so she doubted he'd have been a danger to her, anyway, but when it came to her life, no prize was too high and no danger was too little to write off. It wasn't like 30 silver coins were a lot of money. She'd checked the books, and the man wasn't exactly rich. He lived and ate for free on the castle grounds, so he barely had any expenses. 30 silver coins equated to vaguely 2 years' income for him: a small fortune for him; an afterthought for her.
The man left with a spring in his step, and Malty couldn't help but smile faintly. Perhaps she'd just been conned but didn't care either way.
Her maid closed the double door behind the man. "Should I send in the next one, Princess?"
"One moment," Malty called as she gathered her writing supplies from where they rested on the left side of her desk, next to the small mountain of books that listed all kinds of things about the servants: from income, function, family and living situation, to when they'd joined or left or taken a holiday. Biting her lower lip, Malty noted down the man's name, claim and punishment, and compensation on her own list, making it 8 names long. She set down her quill and shot a wistful look to her lounger, which stood behind her near the windows and had been entirely unused as of yet today.
She closed her eyes and let herself relax into her chair, letting her head loll against the backrest. Though it was a cushioned chair, it wasn't the most comfortable position. She raised a hand and waved behind herself for her masseuse, and a moment later, a pair of smooth hands were on her shoulders, massaging. The new masseuse was, sadly, not nearly as talented as Lula, and Malty thought her hands were a bit too large. She was older, and while not ugly, she wasn't nearly as beautiful to fuel any kind of fantasies. Perhaps it was better that way. Malty wasn't going to dismiss her and send for a new one.
A chuckle sounded from Malty's left. "What?" she asked absentmindedly, her thoughts on the cathartic bath she'd take later on.
"Nothing, Princess," a male voice answered.
"Yes. Just joking among ourselves."
"Hmmm-hmm." Bastards, Malty thought. The two voices belonged to the two knights her father had assigned to her this day. After he'd generously given her some money to pay off the people she'd offended, it came with the added drawback that she now had two babysitters. They were here to ensure nothing happened to the books and the money, and even though she appreciated the added security while there was a small fortune in the room, she was slowly getting annoyed at their whispered conversations and secret chuckles. That they'd set up their chairs next to her snack table and constantly stole from it didn't do them any good in her books, either.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Malty asked. "To see me suffer."
"We wouldn't dream to."
The knights were both around thirty years old. One had a bald head, round face, and dark eyes. The other was a little younger, blue-eyed, and had chin-length black hair that managed to never fall in his face.
"Yes," Blue-Eyes said. "We're just enjoying any kind of work that involves a lot of sitting and eating."
"Quite right," Bald said. "Quite right..."
Malty hummed and waved the masseuse off. She turned and held out her hands behind herself, letting them be washed, then dried with a soft towel. She turned to the left and indulged in a little snack of grapes and cheese, glaring at the two knights all the while. They chuckled good-naturedly and saluted her with some food, Bald having speared a piece of meat on a dagger, to which she could only roll her eyes. She faced to the right where her wine table stood and allowed herself a few sips, the alcohol leaving a delightful rough taste behind on her tongue. This was only her second glass today, and it was nearing afternoon. She was quite impressed by her restraint.
All in the name of survival, she reminded herself. Just a little more work now, and then I'm free to do whatever I want. Just a little more... She saluted her armor and sword, replaced the goblet on the wine table, and had her servants wash and dry her hands once more—lest she leave some smudges on the books—then called for her maid to let in the next servant she'd offended over the course of the 20 years she'd been alive.
On and on it went. Past-Malty had been a diligent little shit. One man was brought in from the castle dungeons and was led into her rooms with shackles and accompanied by two knights. Malty remembered him. His name was Tok, and she'd claimed he'd hit her to cover up a bruise on her hand she'd inflicted upon herself after stumbling like an inept fool on a stroll. He'd not given in then, and things hadn't gone over smoothly. He'd been in the dungeons for over a year at this point, which had made him bitter. Understandably. Malty shuddered at the thought of spending a single day on some hard, wooden cot and eating leftovers that were barely good enough to feed the Filolials.
That Tok held a grudge went without saying. He also wasn't appeased by some money. Not in the slightest. Malty hadn't offered much—his salary had not even amounted to 10 silver coins a year—but even after she raised it, he only got angrier. She had to have him removed when he started spewing disgusting insults and slurs at her. Anger was pulsing in her temples, and she was itching to report it to her father, to have Tok's tongue cut out for it all. There were enough witnesses around; it would be justified and no problem at all. But she didn't.
Instead, Malty gathered the servants that had known Tok prior to his imprisonment and questioned them about him. From what she learned, she devised a new plan of action. Apparently, Tok was mostly doing cleanup work around the castle grounds—scrubbing floors or cleaning up Filolial shit—barely earning enough to get by. She'd also been informed that he'd often proclaimed to be saving up to one day leave the castle and open up a Filolial farm. An hour of organizing later, and Tok walked out of her rooms without shackles on, a wide smile on his bearded face, and in his hands a letter of recommendation for a Filolial farm nearby that belonged to the uncle of one of her maids. Said uncle was without an heir but too stubborn to sell the farm. He'd appreciate the help and company, and Tok could potentially take the farm over after the old man's passing.
Malty let her head fall into her hands and released a long groan. I've never worked so hard in my life, she thought. Wasn't this time around supposed to be more enjoyable?
She decided to call it a day then.
Over dinner, she reported the day's progress to her father, and for some reason, he had a wide, proud smile on his face and his eyes were glistening as he listened to her rant about how long it had taken to deal with Tok and how she felt how her hands would get wrinkles and forever remain dry if she continued like this. He only chuckled and squeezed her hands, reassuring her that no such thing would happen. It had been him who'd told her that she ought to do the work herself, so perhaps he was just happy she'd acted on his advice.
That evening, she almost downed a full bottle of Seaetto wine while she soaked for hours in her bathtub, using her magic to keep the water warm. As she reflected on the day, it suddenly struck her that the Seaetto girl was currently rotting in the dungeons.
Perhaps she hasn't arrived yet? Malty wondered. Either way, she'd end up there eventually. Should I do something about that?
No, she immediately shook the thought off. I'm not so stupid as to get involved in Church business. And just because I saved one poor soul from the dungeon today doesn't make me responsible to do the same for anyone else. She isn't my problem. And besides... I never liked that stuck-up chit. She doesn't know how to have a good time. Malty downed the last drop of Seaetto wine and handed the goblet to her maid. Unlike me. With a smile, Malty fully immersed herself in the water so that only her nose was above the surface. She inhaled deeply, smelling the rose-scented water, her body pleasantly warm—both on the outside and inside—and relished the taste of the Seaetto wine left on her tongue. Not my problem. At all...
The next day, Malty did the same thing. After all the practicing, things went a lot more smoothly, and she wasn't sure whether she was imagining things, but the two snack-stealing knights seemed a little less obnoxious than the day before. She still didn't like them enough to make an effort to remember their names, though.
At midday, her list was now filled with 17 entries, and as she looked them over, she couldn't help but notice the steady improvement in her penmanship. A little wave of pride and satisfaction spread through her.
Well, it's only natural that I'm getting better and better at this, she thought, a little horrified, as she sipped some wine. But just because one is good at doing something does not mean that one has to enjoy doing it. She silently toasted her armor and sword, and on it went.
An uninvited guest visited her that afternoon: a nun of the Three Heroes Church. She just entered without waiting to be summoned, and Malty, in the process of noting down the previous victim's information, gritted her teeth. She felt the hairs at the nape of her neck stand up, and her hands twitched, nearly snapping her quill in half.
The nun bowed. "Your Highness. It has come to the Church's attention that you've found a new path of humility and repentance, and we are deeply impressed by your actions. Please let me—"
"Stop." Lips pursed, Malty stared down the nun. She'd wondered when the Church would approach her. "Did I summon you? Did I request your presence?"
"No, Your Highness. Please—"
"I have important work to do. Important work, which you are impeding. So..." Malty made a shooing hand gesture. It was rude, but she didn't care.
The nun just ignored it. "You should visit the Church, Your Highness. To share your sins with God. His—"
"Yes, I'm quite aware of how that works. You may leave now."
"His Holiness has offered to guide you personally through this trying time. I've come here to extend his invitation."
Malty's blood was boiling now. As if I ever want to talk to that two-faced bastard again! she fumed, trying and probably failing to keep the scowl off her face. If she never came face to face with the Pope again, it would be too soon.
"Yes, thank you," Malty said, voice barely controlled. "Will you leave now or do I need to have you removed?"
An expression of shock crossed the nun's face for a moment. She recovered quickly, uttered some more empty platitudes and veiled suggestions, then left. She'd probably expected Malty to follow along immediately. Had Past-Malty been that easy? Yes. Yes, she probably had.
The moment the double doors closed behind the nun, Malty released a long breath and sagged in on herself, and the two knights were snickering.
"What?" Malty snapped, whirling around.
"N-nothing, Princess," Bald said.
"We weren't laughing at you, Princess," Blue-Eyes explained. "Just... I think we all know how nuns can be." He chuckled.
"Quite right. Quite right..."
"You did well dealing with her."
"Probably pissed her off."
"But seeing that expression on her face made it all worth, I'd wager."
Bald was nodding. "Quite... right..."
Malty searched their eyes for any deception or mockery. They never wore helmets, so their expressions were easy to read. She found them to be honest.
"Aren't you members of the Church, though?"
They only shrugged, then stole some food from her snack table and turned toward each other in a silent conversation, clearly not wanting to elaborate.
Perhaps they aren't so bad, after all, she thought and waved for her maid to bring in her next victim.
After dealing with a young maid she'd dismissed for accidentally spilling her tea, Malty was presented with the first liar. She was a young seamstress, named Rellaya, and claimed that Malty had sent a knight to tear her self-made dresses because, apparently, Malty had been jealous. While very convenient—because said knight was now dead and it obviously wasn't listed in the books—it wasn't an unlikely story. Rellaya was pretty and had full, kissable lips, and some people may even find the little mole on her left cheek appealing.
Yet, as someone who lied as easy as she breathed, Malty instantly recognized the signs. Recognized that gleam of deceitfulness in those olive-green eyes.
"You're a liar," Malty said, face hard. "A pretty good one, I give you that, but not good enough for me. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Rellaya was on her knees, and her pitiful tears had now turned into full-blown sobbing, makeup ruined. "Please, P-princess...I swear, it's... it's the truth. My dresses! My little fortune! It... it was my everything!"
Malty blinked. "So you'd be willing to testify under the slave curse?"
"What?"
Usually, testifying under slave curse was unheard of for such minor things. The ink and holy water to apply and remove the slave curse was quite expensive, not to mention that it was required for the Queen or King to oversee, so this method of testifying was only used in severe cases. But Rellaya was a talented seamstress and had even supplied Malty with a dress or two, so her compensation would amount to at least 5 gold coins if not more... easily outweighing the effort for the slave crest.
"You testify under slave curse... or you get nothing." Malty smiled sweetly. "If you're telling the truth, then it won't be a problem, will it?"
Rellaya thought for a few moments, then she suddenly stood with a sneer on her pretty face, her sadness forgotten. She sniffed. "Perhaps I remembered things incorrectly, after all."
Malty leaned back in her chair with a pleased smile on her face, arms crossed.
"Want us to arrest her, Princess?" Bald asked, standing up.
Rellaya shot a glimpse toward the door, where Malty's maid was blocking the way, and a shimmer of fear crept into her eyes. But also rage. This one would hold a grudge, even if it wasn't Malty's fault.
Perhaps I should have just given her the money anyway? Malty wondered. Now things are fucked. Ugh... Even if she let her father deal with the matter, Rellaya would hold a grudge against her. Not exactly a reasonable grudge, but Malty could tell because she would do the same in the woman's situation. In fact, Rellaya reminded her of Past-Malty.
I should just let her go, she thought. But even then, Rellaya would be upset because of the embarrassment of being found out, of the suspicion she'd face in the future.
Groaning, Malty let her head fall into her hands. Why is it so damn difficult not to offend people?! How did I get in this situation?
"Princess?" Bald prompted.
Malty held up a hand, gathering herself. She reached into the golden bowl, took a single coin, and tossed it to Rellaya.
The woman caught the gold coin deftly and shot Malty an apprehensive, confused look. "Your Highness?"
"For your efforts. Your performance was quite good. I enjoyed it. Especially that part about breaking down and falling to the knees. But... you should tone down the tears a bit. Let it build up more naturally. Don't force it. And go a little lighter on the makeup. You look like a mess."
Rellaya blinked, then nodded.
"Now, I can appreciate someone who sees a chance and takes it. Since you're the first one, I'll let you get away. This time. The next person who tries to con me will be brought in front of my father to be dealt with." Malty let that statement hang in the room for a few seconds, then nodded and tossed the woman another gold coin, for good measure. "Make me a new dress or something."
"Of course, Your Highness," Rellaya said, grinning. She pocketed the money, curtsied, and promptly left.
Malty reached for her goblet and took a large gulp of wine, then relaxed back into her chair and signaled her masseuse. Crisis averted, she thought as smooth hands settled on her shoulders. And responsibility successfully shoved onto someone else. Good job, Malty. Good job. Just a little more...
After a small snack pause, she dealt with a nobleman and his daughter, Molina, who Malty had apparently harassed as a child. That one was quickly dealt with. The girl was very shy, and they didn't want any money, just a sincere apology. Malty played along, even going so far as to stand up and exchange a hug with Molina while she complimented her beauty and manners. It had been the right thing to say, and the girl left without a grudge and a small grin on her face.
Before the door could fall shut, a figure slipped inside. It was a member of the Three Heroes Church. A man, this time, probably higher in rank. It seemed they hadn't been content with the nun's report.
"Out," Malty ordered, still standing.
The priest bowed, rosary dangling in front of his chest. "Your Highness, if you—"
"Out!" Malty pointed with a hand. "I'm busy. I'll summon you if I have the need for spiritual guidance!" She heard one of the knights stand up, and when the priest noticed as well, he was out the door in a second.
I'm not going to survive this, am I? she thought as she let herself fall back into her chair.
The Church was apparently not used to being denied. Next, they sent a priest—at least she suspected him to be one—who had disguised himself as one of her victims. He even had a compelling story to tell, making religious remarks all the time.
Can't they get a hint and leave me the fuck alone? Malty fumed. Now she'd wasted a good quarter-hour listening to this man's sob story when she could have spent the time getting a massage on her lounger. For nothing!
"...but I trust in God to—"
"ARGH!" Malty yelled, and the quill, with which she'd been playing absentmindedly, shattered. "Out! Get this Church sycophant out of my sight!" Her forehead was throbbing so hard she feared for her life. "The next priest or nun—or anyone that isn't here for an apology and enters without permission—gets thrown out the fucking window!"
Silence followed her shouting, only her agitated breathing audible. The door clicked shut behind the priest-in-disguise.
Oh fuck, she thought.
A snicker sounded from her left. It was joined by a second, then turned into full-blown laughter when Malty stared at the two knights incredulously. Soon, she was laughing along as well, followed by the rest of the servants in the room.
God, I haven't laughed this good in ages, Malty thought. She'd given up any self-control and was resting her head on the table, desperately gasping for air as minute chuckles kept shaking. At least no one took offense at my screaming. Danger avoided.
"Should we continue or would you like to stop early today?" her maid asked after all the humor had finally died down. She'd already supplied a new quill.
"I..." It was tempting. But no. "Let's keep going for an hour or two more."
They did. When it was nearing evening, the sunbeams becoming more and more horizontal, casting the room in orange and red hues from behind, her maid spoke up once again.
"Princess, there's a priest who'd like to enter."
"Send him away," Malty said, not looking up from her notetaking.
"He's from the Four Saints Faith."
Now that got her attention. "On second thought: he can enter. Bring him inside, please... Mala." Mala the head maid. It's not that hard to remember, Malty. Mala the head maid.
Mala smiled and led the priest inside the room.
Instantly, Malty felt like something was off. He didn't wear the typical wardrobe of a Three Heroes Church member, but somehow, he still managed to look like one.
"Seize him," Malty ordered.
Bald and Blue-Eyes shared a look and shrugged, then stood and approached the man.
"Your Highness?" the priest asked. "I... I don't—
Malty nodded for the knights to continue. "Search him. Does he carry a rosary? Check for me, please."
The man tried to protest, but the knights were faster and stronger.
"Found it!" Blue-Eyes exclaimed with a triumphant grin, holding up a hand. A rosary was dangling from it, the symbol of the Three Heroes Church at the end. "It was in his trouser pocket."
"Should we throw him out of the window, Princess?" Bald asked. He sounded serious, almost eager.
If her rooms had been on the ground level, she might have considered it. "No. The door will suffice. Thank you."
While the knights threw out the imposter, Malty sagged in on herself, head steadied with a hand against her forehead. She sighed. Fuck the Church! Perhaps she should reconsider her plans about forgoing vengeance... Nah. Too much effort. But I won't stand for this pestering any longer.
"P-princess?"
Malty looked up, to where Mala stood with a dejected posture. "Yes?"
"I... I'm sorry. I hadn't realized."
"It's not your fault." Malty made a careless hand gesture. "Though... could you go and find me a priest of the Four Saints Faith. A real one, this time?"
"Of— of course, Your Highness. Right away or...?"
She was right to ask. It was approaching dinner time now, and Malty never skipped her meals. "No. Tomorrow morning will suffice, though you're welcome to leave now and arrange things. We'll forgo the apologies for the moment. I wish to meet with a high-ranking member of the Four Saints Faith first thing in the morning."
"Of course, Princess." Mala curtsied.
"After breakfast," Malty added after a moment. "Tell him—or her—that I'm thinking about converting."
Well, as it always happens (despite my best efforts), I managed to write more words than planned. At this word count, the Heroes were supposed to already be summoned. While I'm already telling a shitton in this fic, some things just feel better when they're shown.
The Four Saints Faith
Sorry I took so long to update. My inner editor/perfectionist has reared its ugly head, and things have come to a standstill for some time. Well, no more. The chapter turned out way longer than intended, but it is what it is. No reason to stay stuck here. Gotta keep moving forward.
"Is everything alright, my dear daughter?" Aultrcray asked her during dinner that evening.
"Yes. Why wouldn't it be, father?"
"Well." He stroked his beard. "I heard you've rejected the help of the Church today. Is all the work too much stress? Or something else the matter?"
"No no. Everything's fine." Malty smiled, took a sip of wine, and tapped her mouth dry with her napkin. "I'm just so busy that I couldn't find time to visit the Church, that's all." Thankfully, he hadn't heard of her plans to convert yet. She feared a lecture followed by a long talk to change her mind, if that were the case. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, she fancied. Not that she needed either.
Chewing, Aultcray hummed.
"Perhaps I got a little upset when they kept pestering me. But I'm fine, I swear. Don't worry about me, father. I'm sure you're busy." She refocused on her meal, a lovely pottage of mushrooms with some greens. The seasoning was wonderful. She couldn't imagine ever giving up on it. The cuisine on the road hadn't been the best, and Motoyasu's attempt at a meal still gave her nightmares sometimes.
"I believe you, Malty. This new side of you is quite the surprise. Don't overdo it, my sweet girl. That's all I'm saying."
Malty nodded, swallowing. "I won't," she promised.
Aultcray smiled. "I heard you had someone thrown out the window. Is that true?"
"What? No no no. I only threatened to do that. I didn't actually."
He chuckled. "I see."
"What? Why are you looking at me like that, Papa? I was just so...so frustrated. I hadn't meant to explode and say that." She blushed a little.
"I understand. Though..." He grinned mischievously. "If you ever want to make true of your threat, I could have the castle magicians install a little pond in front of your window."
"Papa! You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would. Believe me when I say that I know exactly how you're feeling. I often wish I could just throw people out instead of dealing with them."
"You're just saying this to make me feel better. I don't believe a single word."
He chuckled. "Oh, you better believe it, my dear daughter. I'm dead serious."
"You're bluffing!" She giggled. "I've seen you deal with people. You're always calm, always smiling, always collected. You'd never insult someone like this."
"I wouldn't. But I wish I could. Those are the sacrifices that come with having great power and responsibility..."
"Ugh, you tell me." Malty groaned. "I can't wait to finally be done with all those apologies and go back to my wonderful non-crown-princess life full of laziness." She giggled, though her humor died when she looked at her father's face.
He just looked so...disappointed. It hurt a little to see him regard her like that. She didn't like it and promptly excused herself.
Malty needed a full bottle of Seaetto wine, a long massage, and a hot bath to shake that uncomfortable feeling.
The next day, it was time to disappoint her father some more and convert. Malty was in the process of staring at her bed's canopy while she extensively contemplated whether to have breakfast in bed or not, when Mala announced her presence.
"Your Highness," she said, curtsying. "The Four Saints Faith priest you've wanted me to bring is in the entrance hall, waiting to be summoned."
"Didn't I say after breakfast?" It was hard to keep the irritation out of her voice and make it sound friendly, but she managed.
"You did, Your Highness. So should I tell him to wait some more?"
Yes, she thought but halted. "No, set up breakfast for me in my living room. The priest may join me."
"As you wish, your Highness." Mala curtsied and left.
"Thank you, Mala," Malty called after the woman, which resulted in her halting and throwing a wrinkled smile in Malty's direction.
Be nice, and people will be nice to you, Malty thought. Now let's see what this priest is all about.
Father Bauley, as he introduced himself as, was a middle-aged man with short brown hair that was starting to grey and thin, resulting in a small patch of uncovered skin at the top of his head. His clothes didn't look nearly as refined and ostentatious as the robes Church members wore: a brown robe that had been patched up a few times. A simple cross hung on a chain atop his chest. He almost gave the impression of some commoner who'd done his best to disguise himself as a priest. And yet, Malty knew him to be a real member of the Four Saints Faith. It was the way he smiled and the look in his grey eyes. Simple honesty without any deceit. And when he bowed, she felt like it was an actual show of respect rather than a social necessity.
"Please," Malty said. "Have a seat."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"Would you like something to eat? Drink?" She gestured with her hands across the loaded table between them.
Father Bauley smiled and gestured questionably toward a fruit pie.
"Please, take anything you want."
He did, and he ate with enthusiasm. He did seem a little thin, now that she took a second look. Interesting.
Some people may have considered it rude to eat so much. A Three Heroes Church priest would have probably loaded his plate with moderation, taken a single bite, and then proceeded to babble about his faith. She appreciated the unassuming presence of Father Bauley and dug in with enthusiasm herself. While clearly eating like a commoner, his manners were rather refined. Unlike her, he stuck to water, though.
"Father Bauley," Malty said once her hunger was satisfied for the moment. "Tell me about your faith."
He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking. "What would you like to know, Your Highness?"
"Anything. Tell me about your religion's origin. Your practice and values." She listened attentively, though she knew most of it already thanks to her education.
The Four Saints Faith was considered one of the most ancient religions in the world. It was said that, once, it was practiced nearly everywhere. Back when the Heroes didn't hold loyalty or preferences for any country and traveled all over the world, spreading their wisdom. But that was a long, long time before Malty—or even her father—had been born.
"Nowadays, there are only a fraction of what we used to be left. Most people probably don't even know of our existence."
Sipping on her wine, Malty hummed.
"My church is the only official one in Castle Town and..."
The double door to her rooms opened.
Father Bauley briefly twisted to see who'd entered. "...and it's not what it once was."
What are they doing here? Malty wondered, aiming a disapproving glare at Bald and Blue-Eyes as they sauntered into the room as if they had any business here. Which they didn't. There were no books and no money to protect today.
"Good morning," Blue-Eyes greeted, grinning. "Good morning everyone."
Bald only nodded respectfully. Mala sent Malty an apologetic glance, then looked at the two knights with disapproval, which didn't even wane when Bald took her hand and pressed a kiss on its back.
"What do you want?" Malty asked and crossed her arms. "I wasn't expecting you."
Blue-Eyes chuckled. "We're here for your protection, of course."
"Quite right, of course," Bald said, already a chair in his hands and approaching the breakfast table.
"By all means," Malty said facetiously, gesturing. "Why don't you make yourself right at home? Would you like some pie? A sausage? Some wine? A massage too while we're at it?"
"Ah, Princess, you're such a sunshine," Blue-Eyes said, taking his place on Malty's right. "We humbly accept your generous invitation. And as always, it is a pleasure to be in your service."
Bald, sitting on her other side opposite Blue-Eyes, was already chewing, a sausage speared on his dagger. He hummed in agreement, nodding.
Malty pursed her lips. "What service are you talking about, exactly? I wasn't aware that your presence is needed here."
"There is food," Bald said, a hand held before his mouth. "Therefore, we are needed."
Malty snorted. Those two, she thought and took a sip of her wine. How did they ever make it as knights?
"Princess, you look stunning as always." Blue-Eyes winked. "And your dress is especially lovely today."
Bald nodded along.
"Thank you." Malty smiled. Of course, they were empty compliments. She looked as perfect as always, and her dress—crimson to match her hair, of course—was nearly identical to the one she'd worn yesterday. Yet, she appreciated it anyway. Well, I guess they can stay.
Malty focused back on her guest, intent on asking some more questions, but Blue-Eyes beat her to it.
"And you must be Father Bauley. We heard all about you."
"Only good things, of course," Bald said.
"Yes." Blue-Eyes nodded. "So glad you could make it."
Father Bauley looked in-between them with a frown. "I... yes, of course. It's not every day I get summoned by the Princess. Naturally, I came as fast as my duties would allow."
"Yes yes. Now that you're here, we'll have to clear up a little misunderstanding."
"A... a misunderstanding?"
"Indeed," Blue-Eyes said. "You may have come here under the assumption that our lovely First Princess has religious doubts, but actually, it is us who'd like to convert."
Bald nodded. "Quite right. Terribly sorry for our little charade, but we felt it necessary, and..."
"And, of course, the Princess was all too eager to assist us. She's such a caring and magnanimous individual, isn't she? A true blessing for everyone, and we are deeply thankful for her support."
Malty met Blue-Eyes's gaze, her mouth set in a tight smile. Was she imagining things? Maybe she hadn't traveled back in time but had, in fact, woken up in some alternate universe where everyone was trying to make her life difficult despite her best efforts to do the contrary?
"Well..." Father Bauley cleared his throat, shooting her a confused glance. "If that's how it is... The Four Saints Faith welcomes everyone who'd like to join. Forgive me, but I haven't caught your names."
"Oh! Where are my manners?" Blue-Eyes asked, looking aghast.
Bald stood and reached across the breakfast table to shake Father Bauley's hand. "Hello. My name is Re—"
"Bald," Malty cut in sharply.
"Princess?"
She smiled. "His name is Bald. And this is Blue-Eyes." She gestured. "Father Bauley. Bald. Blue-Eyes."
Blue-eyes regarded her with an open mouth for a moment, then he grinned and chuckled. "That's right." He also shook Father Bauley's hand. "We come from humble origins. Our parents believed in simple things...and names. Though I personally like to think that Blue-Eyes is rather poetic."
"Perhaps it's simple, but it's good," Bald said, running a hand fondly over his clean-shaven head. "Bald..." He grunted. "Manly."
Father Bauley chuckled awkwardly. "Yes... I can see that. So—"
"I'm sorry, Father Bauley," Malty said. "Those two are a little...creative sometimes. My sincere apologies. It is, in fact, correct that I asked for you because I wanted to convert. Not them."
"Oh..." Father Bauley seemed more confused than relieved now.
"But Princess," Blue-Eyes said. "We do want to convert."
"Please, stop." Malty glared. "I had quite enough of this silliness now."
Bald was bowing his head. "Apologies, Princess. We hadn't meant to upset you. But we are actually serious...for once."
"We are," Blue-Eyes confirmed.
"Uh-hmm." Malty crossed her arms. "And why would you want to convert all of a sudden?"
Blue-Eyes shrugged. "Why not? I'm sure it'll be fun. A new experience, as they say. Life's short."
"Quite right. Well, if you are converting, Your Highness, why can't we do the same?"
"And it also means we'll get to be around more on guard duty... enjoying your lovely company and...the food." Blue-Eyes winked.
"I see." Malty didn't. Not completely. "I'll decide to believe you for now. But just to avoid any misunderstandings: Should I find out that you were, in fact, just messing with me, I'll go to my father and tell him that I've changed my mind on having that pond installed, after all, and then it'll be you who gets thrown out the window. Are we clear?"
Bald gulped, nodding.
Blue-Eyes grinned. "As clear as the breathtaking sea of emerald in your eyes, Princess."
Malty actually blushed a little. It had been one of the more creative and clever compliments she'd received in her life, after all. "Good." She sniffed, reached for her wine glass, and took a much-needed gulp. "Now that we've cleared that up, may we proceed with the actual important things?"
"Of course, Princess. Terribly sorry for our interruption. Just pretend we're not here."
Bald grunted in agreement.
She did just that and faced Father Bauley, staring intently into his open grey eyes. "I'll be frank: I haven't lived the most...honest life. I've lied. I've cheated. I've betrayed. I've hurt others and feasted upon their suffering. I've not been a good daughter, sister, or princess. Do you think my soul can be saved?"
It was dead silent in the room.
Father Bauley swallowed. "Of course, Your Highness. As Saint Augustine once said: 'A fault confessed is half redressed.' We humans are flawed beings. We all make mistakes, but it is our actions that define us. A cowardly man—or woman—may harm someone and run away, hoping to never be discovered. But a good soul may harm someone and admit their wrongdoing, seeking to better things."
Malty thought it funny that she was a coward masquerading as a good soul but managed to hold back her snort. "I see. So does that mean there's hope for me yet?"
Father Bauley smiled gently. "'Only those who believe themselves forsaken and give in to despair are without hope.' Your Highness, the past is the past. You'll have to live with it, good and bad, but you're only hopeless if you believe your past to make you incapable of doing good in the future."
Malty hummed, carefully thinking the words over. She'd never been very pious, but perhaps she should reconsider. She'd only known Father Bauley for half an hour, but the little wisdom he'd shared sounded more valid than anything she'd ever heard escape the mouth of that charlatan Biscas.
"Wise words," Bald agreed.
"Indeed," Blue-Eyes said. "And I'll say the Princess has already mastered this lesson. After all, her actions during the past days inspired us to be here today."
Malty found it hard to believe that she'd inspire anyone but gave a hum nonetheless.
"Yes," Father Bauley said. "Word of your repentance has already spread far and wide. Let me personally praise you for your new path in life."
Malty feared that, if people kept praising her for her good deeds, she might accidentally turn into a Saint or something. It was good to hear, though, that news of her actions was already spreading through the kingdom. Hopefully, this would dissuade any potential victims she might have missed from enacting revenge upon her, seeking compensation instead.
"Thank you," she said. "I didn't do it to get praised, though."
Father Bauley smiled. "Of course not."
Malty took a sip of her wine, then sighed. "Alright. I think I'm ready to convert now. How will that take place?"
"Well, we'll go to my church. But first, let me ask a final question, Your Highness."
She gestured for him to continue.
"What are your views on Demi-humans and Beast-men?"
Malty was glad she hadn't been sipping her wine at that moment, for she would have choked, for sure.
"The Four Saints Faith is open to everyone, and we have members from various ethnicities. In fact, a good portion of our members are Demi-humans."
Well, that's unfortunate, Malty thought. No wonder no one likes the Four Saints Faith. "What do I think of Demi-humans and Beast-men?" she mumbled.
The room's other occupants watched her attentively, and she thought to have seen a bead of sweat run down Father Bauley's temple. Past-Malty would have thrown him out the window at this point.
But what did she, the new and improved and simply best Malty, think about Demi-humans and Beast-men? They were lesser beings, of course, inferior to humans. But she wouldn't lose any sleep over it or join on a crusade to eradicate them as some fools would.
She shrugged. "Truthfully, I don't know. They are what they are. I don't hold some special affection or resentment toward them, if that's what you're asking. As long as they don't have a problem with me, I don't have a problem with them. Same as everyone else, I suppose."
"That's..." Smiling, Father Bauley swallowed and dabbed his brow with his napkin. "That's good to hear. Shall we get going, then?"
"Yes, please."
Halfway to Father Bauley's church, Malty was having second thoughts. They'd long left the more civilized parts of the city, and the people they passed in the streets were becoming less and less human. She hadn't known that there were so many free Demi-humans living in Castle Town. There was even a Beast-man here and there.
Houses were tasteless colors, and that was the least of their crimes. Most had patched spots on the walls or ceiling, and more than a few windows were paneless and barricaded with wooden boards.
It was a sunny day, and Malty had simply left the castle in her dress, her usual jewelry gracing her form. Just the things she carried on her body had to be worth more than what all those people owned combined. She feared she would be robbed at any moment. And Mala had traversed these streets on her own to get Father Bauley? That woman deserved a raise for her bravery.
She was never more glad than before that Bald and Blue-Eyes had had the sudden urge to convert. Without their comforting presence, she would have turned around long ago. Clad in full armor plus helmet, Bald was resting one hand on a heavy sword dangling from his hips, and Blue-Eyes was carrying a spear, resting it on one shoulder, an arming sword and a dagger on his belt as backup.
Though perhaps Malty's fears had been unfounded, after all. Everyone seemed to know Father Bauley and greeted him warmly. Even the Demi-humans that looked like they robbed people for a living. Thankfully, they arrived soon after.
Calling Father Bauley's home a church would have been optimistic. The only indicator that there was something holy about the house that fit right in with the others was the big, wooden cross on its front above the entrance. The interior wasn't much better. There were no benches or anything one might expect in a church.
Bald and Blue-Eyes placed their primary weapons against the wall near the entrance and took off their helmets, as always, talking quietly among themselves.
Perhaps he preaches outside in the streets? Malty wondered. With how many people know him, it would be impossible to fit even a fraction of them inside. It really was just a normal home. A staircase led up to a second floor, and she spotted a cooking station and a dinner table further into the house. In the middle of the room, a small staircase led down 4 or 5 steps before abruptly ending, just a rectangular hole in the floor. Is the cellar still in construction? This is so odd. And what is that sound? Someone playing a string instrument? Could anyone living here even afford one?
Malty frowned when she saw an unfinished game of chess was lying on the table. "You play chess?" She'd thought only nobles and rich people with too much time did that.
"Of course," Father Bauley said with a smile. "Chess is but one of the many gifts the Saints bestowed us with. The origin of the game can't be traced back to a specific Saint, though, as most of them seem to be familiar with its rules."
"I didn't know that." She'd thought the game had been invented by some lazy nobles who wanted to feel important because they were good at a game one could perform while seated. Motoyasu had certainly never made any moves to play chess with her or anyone else.
"Do you play, Your Highness? I find that playing chess can have a calming effect on the mind. I am far from the best, but I'd be happy to face off against you."
"Thank you for your offer, but I don't enjoy it all that much." She was terrible at the game and had never cared enough to properly remember all the rules. She only played when her father asked her to or when the little brat had pestered her long enough.
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."
"Hmm-hm."
"Aww, why did it stop?" Blue-Eyes said. "It was beautiful."
Bald was nodding.
Malty was about to ask what they meant when a figure descended the staircase. It was a Demi-human woman—a weasel—and she was carrying a violin in her hands, apparently the source of the earlier sounds.
"Already back?" the woman asked. She stepped up to Father Bauley and gave him a peck on the cheek.
I guess that's why he asked about Demi-humans earlier.
"Yes," Father Bauley said. "This is my dear wife, Ralapha. You may call her Mother Ralapha, if you want." He kept introducing them all to each other.
The weasel woman was clad in a simple beige-brown dress and wore the cross of the Four Saints Faith on a cord around her neck. She looked friendly enough, her long, wavy brown hair was a shade lighter than Father Bauley's, and her amber eyes shone with the same honesty as her husband's.
"Let me just put my violin away. Then I'll get Tolia so that we may proceed."
Bald and Blue-Eyes accompanied Ralapha as she stepped away and made toward the staircase, showering her in compliments for her violin play all the while, which the woman accepted humbly.
Malty stared after them, a little dumbfounded.
"I can see what you're thinking, Your Highness," Father Bauley said. "It is no secret that we don't have much, but for us, the violin is holy. It is but one of—
"One of the many gifts the Saints bestowed upon us," Malty said, grinning.
He smiled, unperturbed by her interruption. "Exactly."
So it was a little like a holy relic for people of the Four Saints Faith. She supposed that made sense. If Bald and Blue-Eyes were to be believed—which was a big IF—and Ralapha really was that talented with the violin, then anyone who dared to steal her instrument would probably be stoned to death by the various people who undoubtedly enjoyed listening to her play. Religious people were best not underestimated.
Tolia, it turned out, was Father Bauley and Mother Ralapha's daughter. She was a weasel Demi-human around Malty's age and had inherited the light-brown hair of her mother—though she kept it at ear-length—and the grey eyes of her father.
She also wore the cross of the Four Saints Faith around her neck, then presented Malty, Bald, and Blue-Eyes with one for each of them, hanging them around their necks.
Father Bauley gave a short speech, then it was time for the real test of faith. The odd in-progress staircase in the ground had now revealed its purpose to Malty. While she'd been distracted by Father Bauley and his daughter—who wasn't that unpleasant company for a Demi—Mother Ralapha had filled the odd hole in the floor with water, using magic.
"To truly be part of the Four Saints Faith and to receive the Holy Spirit of the Saints, you'll have to be baptized," Father Bauley explained.
Malty warily eyed the cold water. She was having serious doubts now. Perhaps she was just overreacting and was committing some terrible mistake here? Well, too late to back out now.
"And that's really necessary?" Malty asked. "And... Do I need to undress?"
"Of course not, dear," Mother Ralapha said. "You can keep your clothes on, and Tolia will make sure to warm you up afterward."
Tolia offered a comforting smile and waved, a sheen of magic covering her hands.
"O-okay," Malty said.
Father Bauley cleared his throat. "Baptism isn't a requirement, but it is one of the ways to be truly close to the Saints and show your faith. Picture it like this: When your body gets lowered into the water, it is as if you leave your old life behind. When you're under the water, your old life is dead, and, like the Saints when they get called into our world, you get invigorated by the Holy Spirit. When you come out of the water, you're beginning your new life like—"
"Like the Saints. I see." Malty nodded. She hesitantly took her place in-between Father Bauley and Mother Ralapha, then the three of them stepped into the water, one step at a time. Malty just barely managed to not squeal at the coldness and hoped that no one saw the tears of pain in her eyes as the icy water bit into her wonderful legs. She almost gave up when it was time to take the final step but persisted.
Immersed to her naval in water, Malty took gasping breaths. She only half-listened to Father Bauley's words, nodding along. They're not even shivering! How can they stand this coldness?! She just barely managed to take a deep gulp of air before she got grasped and pushed backward into the water, the chill completely encompassing her.
For a moment, she was panicked, her heart racing, then she calmed, the coldness around her head granting a weird sense of clarity. You're dead now, Past-Malty, she thought. You too, Future-Malty. I won't make such foolish mistakes this time. She got raised back above the surface. Father Bauley and Mother Ralapha were steadying her as she desperately filled her lungs with air.
They all offered congratulations, and Bald and Blue-Eyes were even applauding. Malty couldn't help but smile, a sense of relief flooding her. She definitely felt different now, though that could also be because she was still freezing her ass off. Her wet dress clinging to her body and probably revealing more than what was decent in such a situation, she got guided out of the small pool. Tolia was immediately beside her, muttering some incantation. A moment later, warmth washed over her, and she offered the weasel girl a thankful smile.
Bald and Blue-Eyes were next. They decided to keep their armor on, and Malty let out a desperate giggle when Blue-Eyes nearly drowned because Father Bauley and Mother Ralapha weren't strong enough to lift him out of the water again.
Bald came to the rescue, jumping into the pool and lifting his partner in crime out of the water. Malty deliberately ignored how he'd, in his panic, called Blue-Eyes by his real name, and then her giggles turned into full-blown laughter when she saw Blue-Eyes's disheveled state: for once, his hair wasn't so neat and was obscuring his face, and he was coughing up water, grimacing. Malty committed the image to memory, vowing to never forget it.
The two knights recovered quickly, though, and joined in with her amusement after a moment. It helped brighten up the others' mortified expressions and resulted in a shared round of laughter.
When it was Bald's turn, Blue-Eyes assisted, and things went smoothly. They didn't seem to mind the cold as much as she had. Bald was practically relishing it, coming out of the water with a big grin on his face, puffing in an exaggerated manner, and when Tolia warmed him up with a spell, his grin became downright insufferable.
"Say, Father Bauley," Bald said. "Is your daughter unmarried?"
Tolia paused her magic and flicked his bald head. "I'm right here. And no, I'm not married, but I will be soon." She held up her left hand, showing off a small band around her ring finger.
"A shame." Bald nonetheless took her hand and placed a kiss on its back. "Well, he better treat you well. And if not, you know where to find us." He winked. "So that we can...roughen him up a bit."
"What he said," Blue-Eyes agreed, combing his wet hair with a hand.
Tolia shook her head. "You two are unbelievable."
Malty hummed in agreement.
"That won't be necessary. And it's she, actually."
"I bet your pardon?" Bald said.
"My fiancée. I'm marrying a woman."
He gaped. "You can do that?"
"Of course. We from the Four Saints Faith aren't as backward as you from the Three Heroes Church— Well, your former religion."
"Indeed," Father Bauley said. "There have been many homosexual Saints in the past, and they've celebrated it openly."
"Hmm." Bald grunted. "Good to know. And congratulations, by the way."
"Thank you."
Then it was finally time to leave. A last round of congratulations and goodbyes were exchanged. Malty even hugged Tolia, finding that touching a Demi wasn't as bad as she'd feared. The girl even smelled nice. Father Bauley, once more, invited her for a game of chess, and Mother Ralapha offered to teach her how to play the violin. That sounded way too strenuous, so she declined politely.
Bald and Blue-Eyes collected their weapons and helmets, not donning the latter, then they left the house. A small group of curious people had gathered in the front but let them pass without issue.
Thankfully, Tolia had managed to almost completely dry Malty's dress—at least the upper part—and no one got to see her royal nipples as she made her way back home. The warm sun felt wonderful on her skin, even making the wetness of her shoes bearable. People—humans and Demi-humans alike—offered congratulations, probably guessing what had happened by the fact that she was still dripping water.
"Look at her smile," Blue-Eyes said, snickering. "A real sunshine."
"Quite right."
They were flanking her, much more relaxed than the time they'd passed here earlier.
Malty just smiled at them.
"Are you feeling good, Princess?" Blue-Eyes asked. "Can you feel the...Holy Spirit invigorating you?"
"Must be it," Bald agreed. "It's like Father Bauley said: she left behind her old life. Can't you feel it, Blue-Eyes?"
"Oh, I can. I can indeed feel it, Bald."
They laughed.
"You two..." Malty shook her head, her damp hair grazing her shoulders. "I still can't believe you were actually serious about converting."
They shrugged.
"Aren't you afraid that you'll get in trouble?"
"Eh, no more trouble than usual," Bald said.
"And besides," Blue-Eyes said, grinning. "If everyone hates us now, we'll have no other choice but to seek refuge in a certain Princess's room. I hear she always has the best food at hand. Isn't that right?"
"Quite right, in fact."
Malty snorted. "I suppose you may."
"What about you, Princess?" Blue-Eyes asked. "Aren't you afraid you'll create some stir among the powerful people?"
"I couldn't care less. And neither will they. I'm just the stupid, lazy, always-drunk Princess who lost her title. Important enough to not dare raise a hand against. Not important enough to bother with."
"The Three Heroes Church members yesterday would disagree."
"Well, they'll leave me alone now." Hopefully. "The only people who want something from me are the ones trying to manipulate me by holding the title of Crown Princess in front of me. Like I'm some dumb Filolial, enticed by a fancy carriage. Well, no more."
"So you're saying that you won't let others manipulate you so easily or that you aren't enticed by the title anymore?"
"Both. Who cares about some dumb title when you can just spend your days lazing about and enjoying the best wine and food the kingdom has to offer?"
Blue-Eyes chuckled. "On that, Princess, we can agree wholeheartedly."
"Quite right, Your Highness."
The castle gates came into view. Malty smiled. There was a small uneasy feeling in her stomach at the thought of confronting her father, but it got overshadowed by the thought that she now had two loyal bodyguards, annoying snack-stealers that they may be.
She felt lighter. Like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Finally, people would leave her in peace, the remaining temptation to betray Naofumi, after all, was completely squashed, and it felt really good to distance herself a little further from those bastards in the Three Heroes Church. A small victory for her.
Now I just need to make some more apologies, and I'll finally have my perfect life full of laziness.
Goddamnit! Those two knights, I swear! Always stealing the spotlight and making things complicated.
Confrontations and Distractions
This story's posting day is now Saturday. For the time being, I'll probably update weekly.
Also, special thanks to the guest reviewer who pointed out that they aren't interested in gay couples! Okay...? I mean, why would you click on a story with such a pairing and leave a review saying that (and only that)? Escapes my understanding of logic.
After taking a long, hot bath and changing into new, dry clothes, it was still just past midday. So, in a good mood, Malty decided to spend the rest of the day doing more apologies.
She found that people seemed a lot more relaxed around her now, and things went without trouble. Time flew by. By the end of the day, Malty had nearly 30 names on her list-which looked very neat, she noticed with satisfaction. Nearly done, she noticed with even more satisfaction.
"Bald, Blue-Eyes," she said as they were packing things up in the evening. "Would you like to join me for dinner this evening?"
They shared a look, then chuckled.
"Nice try, Princess," Blue-Eyes said. "But you'll have to face your father alone. If you ask us in a few days, we'd be delighted to accompany you, of course."
Malty pouted.
"A word of advice, Your Highness," Bald said, picking up and holding the heavy bowl filled with silver coins beneath his left arm. "Don't stave things off. Better to face them head-on. Well, that's my mantra, anyway, and I don't have any hairs left, so I'm not sure how successful it is."
Malty giggled. "Thank you." She'd actually been considering to avoid her father for a few days.
"No problem."
Blue-Eyes patted Bald's head. "His success story aside, we'll have our own battle to face this evening. Well, if we're dead tomorrow, you'll know how that went." He winked.
Malty smiled. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
Bald grunted, took the cross from his chest, and pressed it against his lips. "We got the Holy Spirit to embolden us, after all. Good luck, Your Highness."
"You too."
They left, and Malty also got into motion before she could second-guess again.
Aultcray didn't immediately bring up the topic of religion, though his eyes quite obviously flickered toward the cross on Malty's chest from time to time as they ate in silence, and the disapproval was practically radiating off him.
Some herbal soup was served that day, but Malty was too nervous to savor its taste. The silence was making her skittish, and she nearly had a heart attack when a servant suddenly appeared next to her and refilled her wine glass. Her hands were sweaty as she sipped, her throat dry despite herself. She couldn't remember being this nervous...ever.
"So," he said. "You converted to the Four Saints Faith."
"Yes, father." She breathed a sigh of relief, heart calming down.
"I'm not sure what to make of that, Malty. You're acting very unusual recently. Is this your way of rebelling? Of showing your displeasure about your mother's decision to give your title to Melty?"
"It isn't. I've stopped being upset about that. Melty can have the throne; I don't mind."
"Truly? I... I mean, you are the older sibling. I'm sure your mother plans to give you back your title soon."
"I hope not." Frowning, Malty bit her lower lip and reached with a hand toward her cross pendant, idly playing with it. "I'm sure I'd make an awful Queen."
"Don't say that, my sweet girl. I've seen what you can achieve if you set your mind to it. Don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you'd make a great Queen."
Those were the words Past-Malty had always wanted to hear. Sure, her father had always been supportive, but he'd never seemed so convinced of his words as just now. Her heart beat a little faster. Maybe if I keep working on myself, I could— No! Bad Malty! Bad temptation! You don't want to be Queen, no matter what. That's wayyyy too much effort. Even though the crown would look good on my— No! Future-Malty is dead, remember?
Malty took a steadying breath, clutching the cross. "Mother is still young. Let's hope she'll live—and rule—for a long time and not discuss any scenarios that involve her death, okay, father?"
Aultcray hummed.
"And didn't you want to reprimand me for my change in religion?"
He pursed his lips, face grim. "Indeed. If this isn't some scheme to get your title back, why did you suddenly convert? Is there something else you want? More money? What do I need to do for you to convert back?"
"I'm not converting back!" Malty scowled, surprised by her sudden anger. "This isn't some scheme or whatever. I don't want anything. This?" She held up her cross pendant. "This is what I believe in, and you're not going to get me to change my mind."
Aultcray was watching her with an expression of betrayal now. "But... but you know what they say about the Shield Hero, what they did in the past. He is the Devil. How can you not see it?"
Malty crossed her arms and glared. "What I see is that our world is in danger of being destroyed. The prophecy is real, we know that now. And if we want to live long enough to see our children grow old, we're going to need the help of the Heroes to survive that. All the Heroes, including the Shield Hero."
He looked at her as if he'd never seen her before. As if she wasn't his favorite daughter. As if she was the unreasonable one here.
How can he not see it? Malty thought, headache approaching. It's so obvious!
"The Shield Devil is—"
"Maybe he is the Devil!" Malty snapped. "Maybe he isn't. I don't care! What I do care about is surviving this mess! And I'm fine with everyone who wants to help, whether they carry a Sword or Shield or have two furry ears or a tail or some extra hairs elsewhere or whatever! As long as the Waves get defeated, I couldn't care less. So what? You're going to risk the lives of everyone for some prejudice? Is that what the 'Wise King' would do?"
Anger was creeping into Aultcray's eyes now.
"Mother is going to return eventually, and she's going to be pissed we summoned all the Heroes without telling her. And she's going to be extra pissed if we fucked the Shield Hero over somehow. It'd be in your best interest to make sure he is treated well! And even then, you better prepare to grovel at Mirellia's feet!" Malty regretted the words the moment they'd left her mouth.
"Malty..." He was regarding her wide-eyed. "But Malty... Didn't you say just last week how it would be best to summon all four Heroes even if it meant summoning the Shield Devil alongside—"
"I never said that!" Malty stood abruptly, her chair nearly toppling over. "Okay?! And... and even if I did, I was probably drunk! I don't want to have any part in this! Don't try to push this onto me!" She gasped for breath, heart racing, eyes as wide as her father's. "And when Mother returns, you're going to tell her exactly that! That I didn't do anything whatsoever. That I was just in my rooms, being lazy!"
Aultcray opened his mouth to speak, but Malty turned and fled the room, not letting him.
Gasping for breath and blinking back tears, Malty barged into her rooms. All the while, her earlier words echoed in her mind. She threw herself onto her lounger and ordered Mala to get her masseuse.
Even with smooth hands kneading her skin and after another two glasses of Seaetto wine, the thoughts wouldn't leave her alone, and that uneasy feeling kept churning in her stomach. She didn't know what it was or why she even felt that way. She'd manipulated and used her father so often in her life that she'd lost count. It didn't bother her. Never had. But why would things be different now? She only wanted to survive and indulge, and her actions had been exactly directed toward that worthy goal. So why did she feel so bad about it?
After another massage, things hadn't changed in the slightest, and Malty sent her masseuse away, barely having the presence of mind to not snap at the woman and tell her just how much better Lula had been at her job.
With an irritated huff, Malty took a seat at her writing desk and scribbled a hasty note. "Mala, come here."
"Y-your Highness?"
Malty folded the note and handed it to her. "Here. Do you remember the woman from yesterday? The one who tried to con me? Rellaya? The Seamstress?"
Mala nodded.
"Bring her that note, please."
"Of— Of course, Your Highness." Mala curtsied and left, and Malty chimed her bell to call for some servants.
An hour later, Malty sat on her lounger, freshened up and appearance immaculate. She'd dismissed all other servants for the evening. The last sunrays shone into the room from behind, the light breaking at the wine glasses and bottles, throwing dots and arches of orange-red across the room, reflecting back from her armor. She liked the atmosphere it created. Almost...intimate. The feeling of anticipation was battling with her guilt.
The double door clicked open, and a figure slipped inside. Malty's heart beat a little faster as she settled her eyes onto Rellaya's form. The woman wore a pretty white-green dress with a deep neckline, and Malty liked what she saw.
She curtsied. "You called for me, Princess?"
"Yes. Please have a seat. Would you like some wine?"
Rellaya took the indicated place on the lounger next to Malty and accepted the proffered wine glass without hesitation. "Thank you, Your Highness."
"Please, call me Malty."
Full lips shifted into a grin. "Okay, Malty." Rellaya took a sip of her wine, and Malty watched her graceful movements, then the way her tongue darted out to lick her lips dry.
Malty took a sip of wine and swallowed thickly, heart racing. She tentatively tore her eyes away from Rellaya's lips to look into her olive-green eyes. She's wearing a lot of makeup. And her hair is done nicely. Rellaya had secured her strawberry-blonde hair with two beautiful white ribbons into high pigtails so that the locks were falling down beside her ears. She was stunning, and she knew it, a pleased smirk on her face.
"So, Malty... When you said extra work in your little letter, what exactly did you mean?"
"How... how is my new dress coming along?"
"Good, though it's only been a day. It'll take a while. I wouldn't want to risk making any mistakes for any dress for you... Malty."
Her heart skipped a beat whenever she said her name. "Yes, perfection can't be rushed."
Rellaya smirked. "Indeed."
Malty edged a little closer. "I'll be frank because I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. If you're uncomfortable with anything, you may say so, and I won't be mad, okay?"
"Okay, Malty."
Malty waited a moment, holding eye contact. "I want to fuck you." She carefully watched Rellaya's reaction with a raised eyebrow. The only change in the woman's behavior was that her smirk had turned a little more smug.
"I see."
Malty swallowed. "So?"
Rellaya took a sip of wine, never breaking eye contact. "You want me to be honest, right, Malty?"
She nodded.
"I don't really get off on girls."
Malty's heart fell and she averted her eyes. Her attention got brought back to the other woman when she felt a touch on her left ear.
"But..." Rellaya was idly playing with Malty's ruby earring. "I suppose my preferences could be swayed...with the right incentive."
Malty smirked, a pleasant feeling coursing through her body. "I'm listening."
"Yes... I've always wanted to do some...experimental dresses, but I don't really have someone to fund them."
"Experimental sounds good. How expensive are we talking?"
Rellaya shrugged lightly. "Depends on how many you want. How much time I need to invest."
"25 silver coins per evening."
Rellaya retreated her hand. "40."
Malty stared her down for a moment. "Deal." She put away her wine glass and placed a hand on Rellaya's thigh. It was so smooth and warm. She gently moved her hand, loving the feeling. "Just so that we're perfectly clear: I'm not looking for a lover. I don't want there to be any misunderstanding or drama. I just want to have some fun. I get pleasure; you get money. I don't know for how long or how often I'll be in need of your service, but I don't want there to be any heartbreak when it ends."
Rellaya gulped down the last of her wine, sighed, and placed the glass on the wine table. "I understand perfectly." She settled one hand onto Malty's. "As I told you...Malty...I don't like girls. So you have nothing to worry about. But I also have one condition."
"Yes?"
"I'm not a whore. I don't want any unwanted attention."
"Of course not. My lips are sealed."
"Good." Rellaya inched a little closer, then she leaned in with half-closed eyes.
Heart racing, Malty mirrored her. A pleased hum escaped her when she finally claimed those lips. So soft... Delicious. She closed her eyes, kissing gently. Rellaya was a good kisser. Responsive but unassuming. Malty put an arm around her waist, and her hand on Rellaya's thigh became more insistent.
Women are the way to go, she thought, exploring those wonderful lips with her tongue, tasting the wine. So soft. So graceful. Submissive. I think I had enough of men for a lifetime.
Rellaya had put one hand on the nape of Malty's neck, the mere thought of those delicate fingers there sending shivers down her spine, and had put the other on Malty's chest.
"Touch me," Malty whispered.
Rellaya obeyed, cupping one of Malty's breasts in her hands. She just held it gently, not as intrusive as men liked to do it, and ran her thumb across Malty's nipple from time to time.
Malty released a pleased hum and kissed her more insistently. Devoured those lips. She needed more.
"Get in my lap," Malty ordered.
Rellaya obeyed. She giggled when Malty grasped her butt, pressing their bodies together. Malty placed a trail of kisses on Rellaya's wonderful skin, slowly working her way from her mouth, across her long, delicate throat, to her chest. She was briefly transfixed by her collarbones, then wandered lower. She pushed the clothing aside to free Rellaya's breasts and didn't waste any time to close her mouth around one of her nipples, sucking and licking gently, humming in delight, loving how it hardened under her caresses.
Rellaya was sighing faintly, chest rising and falling, and had her hands buried in Malty's hair. "Ah... Malty..."
A little growl escaped Malty. She needed more, her mind clouded with desire. Her touches became more insistent, one hand clutching and exploring Rellaya's back, the other wandering up her thigh, slipping beneath her dress until progress was halted by underwear.
Malty stopped her sucking, grasped Rellaya firmly, and turned, intent on laying her onto the lounger. Rellaya was heavier than anticipated, though, and it was more of a rough dropping rather than the gently laying-down Malty had envisioned.
Rellaya nearly fell off the lounger, and they giggled. Malty immediately was on top of her, sucking and fondling her breasts. Her other hand was in-between Rellaya's legs, and she deftly slipped it underneath the dress to massage her pussy through her panties, which were already soaked.
Malty chuckled. After a few more moments of listening to Rellaya's gasped breaths, she stopped and sat up, smirking. "I thought you don't get off on women."
"I... I don't but..."
"But?"
"Well, I guess there are exceptions. But... I could never fall in love with a woman."
"Good." It really was good. For as Malty stared down at Rellaya—the disheveled state of her dress and hair—some primal hunger awakened inside of her, urging her to claim this woman for herself. To make her hers. Forever.
Malty licked her lips. "Get fully onto the lounger so that I can fuck you properly." Rellaya obeyed without hesitation. "Now raise your hips."
She did, and Malty pushed Rellaya's dress up, then pulled down her panties to free her prize. She licked her lips as she stared at that beautiful, hairless pussy.
Grinning cheekily, Rellaya spread her legs in invitation, and Malty took it without hesitation. She pressed a kiss onto those beautiful lips, breathing in, eyes closed, then ran her tongue through, and every control was lost. She licked and sucked, humming, growling. Her movements became needier, and she relished every little sigh she managed to get out of the probably-straight woman. Especially the gasped "Malty!" was music to her ears.
She carefully inserted one finger, then two, then three, and Rellaya's sighs turned into long, pleased moans. Malty chuckled and pressed her legs together.
"Malty..." Rellaya turned and twisted, hips rocking against Malty. One of her hands found its way into Malty's hair, grasping gently. "Don't stop."
Malty didn't plan to, though she yearned for more. Twisting her fingers inside Rellaya's wet pussy, she shifted upward and zoned in on Rellaya's breasts. Irritating fabric was blocking her access. She ripped it aside. A tear sounded.
"My dress!" Rellaya gasped, trying to sit up. "Malty, you—"
Malty silenced her with a hard kiss. Bit down on those full lips. She growled, pushing Rellaya back into the lounger, fucking her pussy with three fingers, doing her best to stimulate the clitoris with her thumb. The taste of blood flooded her taste buds, but she kept going, swallowing Rellaya's desperate moans with her lips.
Rellaya surrounded Malty's body with her arms, grasping her dress with one hand, the other fisting her hair. But she didn't try to push away, clutching their bodies together.
Malty chuckled. Growled. She thrust her tongue into Rellaya's mouth, exploring to her heart's content.
Rellaya's hips rocked against her. Malty fucked her faster. Deeper. Curled her fingers.
Rellaya came with a strangled moan, her pussy clenching around Malty's fingers. Malty kept moving until Rellaya finally stilled completely. She released Rellaya's lips and sat up. A pleased smirk worked itself onto her face as she took in Rellaya's disheveled state and watched her gasp for breath, a blissful smile on her face.
Malty reached for her wine glass and took a sip before placing it back. She licked her lips, savoring the rough taste of the wine mixing with the iron taste of blood. She let out a long sigh and let herself relax. Tension bled away.
Rellaya yawned.
Malty placed a hand on her cheek, caressing gently. "Are you okay? Are you— Rellaya? Rellaya?"
She didn't react, snoring faintly.
Malty's lips curled into a gentle smile. She just sat there for a few minutes, watching the other woman sleep. Then she stood and went into her bedroom. She returned a moment later with a spare blanket and a gold coin stuffed in her dress pocket.
Malty set the blanket aside, gently lifted Rellaya's head to place a pillow beneath, and did her best to make her guest comfortable and not looking like she'd just been thoroughly fucked. Slipping her panties back on was a pain, but Malty managed. With Rellaya's dress and hair looking somewhat presentable again, Malty covered her with the blanket.
"Sorry for tearing your dress," she apologized. Her answer was faint snoring. Grinning, Malty hid the gold coin in-between Rellaya's breasts. "Please accept this extra payment. I hope you don't hold a grudge." She giggled.
Malty indulged in a last kiss, then she stood and made her way into her bedroom. Her eyelids were drooping, and she nearly ran face-first into the door.
This has been the most strenuous day yet, she thought, sighing, as she crawled into her bed. I'm so exhausted. Hmmmm... Soft...
Malty just barely managed to draw up the blanket above her body before she lost consciousness.
When Malty awoke the next day, her first thoughts went to her father and their argument the day before, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She managed to distract herself by checking on Rellaya, but even that distraction failed when she found the lounger empty aside from the usual pillows and the blanket, neatly folded.
Malty let out a long, pained sigh as she contemplated what to do. The urge to hole herself up in her rooms for a few days was strong, but what if her outburst would throw things off? What if her father now wouldn't summon all four Heroes? She couldn't risk that. After much deliberation, she settled on a set of actions and chimed for her servants.
Half an hour later, Malty walked into the throne room with purposeful steps. Her servants shuffled in after her, puffing from exertion. Except for Bald and Blue-Eyes, of course, who were chuckling faintly. Thankfully, they'd survived the night without a scratch. Well, mostly. Bald had a black eye, but he insisted that Blue-Eyes was responsible for that.
Aultcray was already situated on his throne and aimed a frown at her.
Malty smiled and kept going, walking toward the corner of the room—on the throne's left. The morning sun was shining in through the colorful windows, warming her skin.
She pointed. "Here is good. Thank you, everyone."
Moments later, her lounger stood where intended, and the servants placed a chair and a table next to it and proceeded to set breakfast for her.
Everyone in the throne room was now staring at her, probably wondering whether she'd finally lost her mind.
Good, Malty thought, smiling. "Don't mind me. Please keep going, everyone. Don't let me distract you from your important work."
They did as told, and Malty took her place on her breakfast table. Bald and Blue-Eyes placed their chairs on her left and right, immediately snacking some food.
While her father discussed important matters with his advisors and other people Malty had never bothered to meet or learn more about, she ate and observed, smiling and waving at whoever looked her way.
Time passed. No one approached her or demanded her to leave. So she just sat there, eating. After breakfast, she transitioned onto her lounger. She just observed and sipped some wine—Seaetto wine, as always. She even indulged in a few massages, though she obviously didn't undress.
Her father seemed content in ignoring her. Malty ended up spending the whole day there, even when Aultcray left from time to time. She only moved for some much-needed potty breaks.
Most of the discussed matters were negligible, like the distribution of goods and manpower, but she learned, much to her relief, that the plan to summon all four Heroes still stood.
Evening approached, and Malty joined her father for dinner. They served porcupine steak with a lovely salad, and she first devoured half of her steak before she dared to speak.
"I'll say..." Malty wiped her mouth with her napkin, sitting straight and proper. "While all those discussions have been quite fascinating, I couldn't concentrate after a while. I just... My gaze kept being drawn to sir Bernard, and I couldn't quite decide whether he's just very unlucky or whether he'd been kicked in the face by a Filolial. Well, that's equally as unlucky, I suppose."
Aultcray stared at her. The corners of his mouth twitched. He turned his head away, then stared at her again. A chuckle escaped him, then turned into laughter.
Malty giggled, then laughed, tension bleeding away as they fueled each other's amusement.
"Oh! I gotta remember that one!" Chuckling, he was busy wiping tears out of his eyes.
"Now every time you'll look at his face, you'll have no other choice but to think of my words...and spontaneously burst out laughing." She smirked, and they shared another round of laughter.
After they calmed down, Aultcray let out a long sigh. "So you listened to all of that?"
"Of course, father."
Smiling, he decided to test her statement and asked a few questions, which soon transitioned into more of a rant after she answered them correctly. Just like he'd done for her when she'd complained about Tok, Malty listened patiently, smiling, as her father let out his frustration. She inserted the odd comment here and there and even tried to give some advice with the very minimal knowledge she possessed. It was probably all wrong, but he seemed to appreciate it.
"You got a sharp mind, my dear daughter. As I said: You'd make a great Queen. I'm sure your mother will see it soon as well."
Malty smiled tightly. "It's fine. I don't want to be Queen. Truly, Melty should be Queen, and I'll do my best to support her."
Aultcray smiled. "Well, all in good time. We shall see what the future holds."
Malty hummed. "So, about yesterday... I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry I exploded like that. It was unfair of me and... I'm sorry."
"It's fine, my sweet girl." Aultcray covered one of her hands with his. "I wasn't fair on you either. I still don't agree with your new faith, but I should have been less insistent. I was just so shocked. I'm sorry as well."
Malty just smiled.
"Last night, I got kept awake by your words. About Mirellia. I... You're right that she'll be angry. She got a bit of a temper, after all." He chuckled fondly. "But I was more worried about her. Do you think she'll be fine if we summon all Heroes?"
"I'm sure she'll find a way to talk herself out of things. You mustn't worry, father."
"You're right. You're right, of course."
"So we'll summon all four Heroes as planned?"
"Yes. Melromarc comes first. Mirellia will agree with that." His gaze turned distant. "Perhaps the other countries will be upset, but the chance to gain the Heroes' loyalties early on is invaluable. I won't allow the Shield Hero to fall into the hands of Siltvelt. Those fools would probably start another war. No, it's best for everyone if we summon the Heroes here. With the Heroes in our side, no one will dare to raise arms against Melromarc, and then we can work out how best to deal with the Waves."
"I agree." Smiling, she breathed an internal sigh of relief.
Aultcray hummed. "And about what you said yesterday. That you don't want to have anything to do with it. Don't worry, I won't allow your mother to blame you for this. This is my decision first and foremost."
"Thank you, father."
He took a sip of his wine and leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh. "Now that we've got this out of the way, why don't you tell me some more about your decision to convert? Perhaps you'll manage to change my mind? I promise I won't get angry again." He patted her hand affectionately and kept resting it on top of hers.
Malty smiled. "Okay. Well, I already told you about the basics yesterday. That we should focus on the Waves and can't afford to fight among ourselves. But there's a lot more about the Four Saints Faith than just the Heroes. And just so you know, I'm still not very fond of the Shield Hero."
He smiled.
"Anyway, the teachings of the Four Saints Faith have simply...resonated with me, I guess. It's about living a good life. Of making things better instead of worse. Of bettering oneself and others. Of repentance and forgiveness. If everyone lived by those standards, we would all get along and not have to resort to violence." And I could live without worry. "The Four Saints Faith is about acceptance and love. Yes, this includes Demi-humans and Beast-men, which is..." She looked from side to side, then grumbled, "...unfortunate."
Aultcray chuckled.
"But they aren't all bad. Father Bauley, the man who baptized me, is married to a Demi-human woman, and their daughter, Tolia, who is also a Demi-human, was friendly enough. She's engaged to a woman. Can you believe that? I think it's quite lovely. Oh! And did you know that chess was actually invented by one of the past Heroes? Apparently, most of the Heroes can play the game. And Mother Ralapha, Tolia's mother, plays the violin and..." Malty kept on babbling.
When she was finally done, she had to catch her breath, surprised by how passionate her talk had become.
"That all sounds quite lovely, I have to admit. Perhaps I have underestimated you, my dear daughter. Look at you, so mature and full of life. It's as if you're a completely different person." Smiling, he clutched her hand. "I'm so proud of you, Malty."
"Th— Thank you, Papa," Malty said, the words coming out choked, and, oddly, she had to blink back tears.
Oh, dear.
Well, at least I've broken the "curse" of each chapter having a higher word count than the previous. Then again, this chapter is only half of a chapter, really. *Nervous laughter.* Which means that next chapter, we'll finally get a hint at Raphtalia's appearance, and then, the Hero Summoning is imminent. I dare say it's impossible that I'll manage to delay it for another chapter. Now all possible divergences have been made and covered in detail, more or less. For reference, the Hero Summoning will now be chapter 6. In my first outline (which was really just a bit of brainstorming), I'd planned the Hero Summoning to be chapter 3. Quite optimistic, I'll say.
Chess clears the Mind
Suggester: LOL. Well, you succeeded. I'm not quite sure what you're suggesting, though. What if Naofumi died against the Two-headed Black Dog? Fitoria would probably kill the other Heroes so that new ones can be summoned.
It was on the morning two days before the Hero summoning that it occurred to Malty that, should she not betray Naofumi, he'd never have to resort to using slaves, and thus, the Magic-Sword-backstabbing Demi slut would remain in Melromarc's slave market.
Malty halted in the process of biting down on her buttered sliced bread with fruit and cheese topping. She blinked.
Not my problem, Malty thought, biting off the intended piece of her bread, and leaned back against her headboard, wonderfully soft pillows hugging her form. As she sat there in her bed and leisurely chewed her delicious bread, her thoughts kept, annoyingly, drifting back to the raccoon.
If she recalled correctly from when the stupid girl had dared to reprimand her and Motoyasu after the duel, she'd claimed to have been sick and weak, which meant that, without Naofumi's interference, she'd have died—will die—in the near future.
Still not my problem, Malty decided. If anything, it pleased her immensely to know that the Demi girl would find an untimely demise simply because of Malty's inaction. That that little nuisance would be no more. A sweet victory for her without the need to lift a single finger. Efficiently lazy, as all good things should be. Yet, she paused yet again while taking the next bite of her bread.
Should I save her? she wondered. If I were to truly live by the Four Saints Faith, I should. And somehow, though the thought was utterly nonsensical, she feared Naofumi would somehow realize her involvement and be upset about being robbed of his little slave girlfriend. Hmmm... perhaps I'm going insane.
Either way, thoughts of the raccoon girl didn't leave her alone and kept ruining Malty's wonderfully lazy breakfast in bed. Perhaps I'm in need of some spiritual guidance. She finished her bread at a pace much too fast for her liking and downed the last of her wine, clearing her mouth of the remaining bread crumbs, then chimed her bell.
Mala entered and curtsied. "You called, Your Highness?"
"Yes, Mala," Malty said, wiping her mouth. "Please send for Father Bauley. Tell him I'm in need of his wisdom. And no apologies today—the few I have left to do. Hmm... On second thought: Just invite him for a game of chess. Tell him I own a set, of course." She frowned. "I do own a set, right?"
Mala smiled gently. "You do, Your Highness. It was a gift from your father four years ago, I believe."
Malty hummed, pretending she remembered. "Thank you. That was all." Mala curtsied and made to leave. Right before she vanished behind the door, Malty called, "And have someone set up the chess set on my coffee table."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Huh. Close save, Malty thought, an embarrassed smile on her face when she imagined herself putting the chess pieces in the wrong formation. Bald and Blue-Eyes would never let her hear the end of that.
"Father Bauley, could you please explain the rules to me once again?" Malty smiled, cheeks heated. She took a sip of her wine.
"Of course, Your Highness."
As he did, Malty had to focus to keep her eyes on the board and not glare at Bald and Blue-Eyes, who were sitting left of her settee, snickering at her. Bald had put his chair in the wrong direction and was resting his head and hands atop the backrest.
This time, Malty thought she finally understood the rules. The pawns were knights. Easy to see through. Weak. Lacking perspective. But effective in capable hands. The queen was Mirellia. Seemingly all-powerful, though capable of being defeated by the weakest pieces if they teamed up. Malty would have to build up a good defense to protect herself from her, but it was possible. The king was her father, of course. Not the most powerful on its own, but capable of offering a great deal of protection to those close to him. Then there was the rook: the Shield Hero. Annoying. Hard to take down. Solid. Protecting those around him. The bishop was Motoyoasu. Easy to understand and manipulate, and yet, he wasn't as smart as Naofumi and never quite did what you wanted him to because he could only walk diagonally. The knight was the Shield Hero's Filolial abomination. It just jumped wherever it wanted, too fast for the eye to see. Difficult to protect yourself against, but doable once you understood its pattern.
Yes, Malty fancied that she'd had a good overview of the board. She still lost. After three games and three shameful losses, the rules had become second-nature, and she looked deeper. Analyzed. She found that, at its core, chess resembled her life a great deal. The goal was to achieve victory with as few steps as possible. Efficiently lazy. And the game was all about threats. Seeing them. Anticipating them. Taking care of them. Making sure she had her own counter-threats prepared. It was also about building up a solid position where she was well-defended with little angles of attack.
After two more games, Malty won. She laughed. "I win! I win! I win!" The settee protested as she bounced in her seat.
Bald and Blue-Eyes were chuckling along, applauding.
"Congratulations, Your Highness."
Malty squinted at Father Bauley. "You didn't let me win, did you?"
He chuckled. "Of course, not. I'd never do something so deceitful." In fact, where he'd smiled a little guiltily whenever he won, he looked more honest and at ease now.
"Of course." Malty beamed and made to reset the board. "Let's play again." She'd licked blood and wanted more. It was a wonderful feeling to win at something, totally of her own merit. She relished it.
I'll keep getting better and better, Malty vowed, smirking. And when Melty returns, I'll slap her arrogant, bratty ass so hard that she cries.
After another five games—of which she won two—and in the process of the sixth, Malty remembered the real purpose of the visit. She hummed as she took in the board.
"I've been thinking," Malty said, moving her remaining bishop in an offensive maneuver. "About some of the Four Saints Faith's teachings. More specifically, about what it means to live a good life and to do good."
Moving his queen, Father Bauley gave a hum that suggested he wanted her to continue.
"Well, of course, I know the basics of what it means to do good. But I was wondering: Can any action be inherently good or not? Who decides that?"
"That's difficult to answer, Your Highness. Was there something specific you had in mind?"
"Let's put it this way: Is something good because it is good? Or is something good because it's not bad?"
Father Bauley frowned—whether at her question or at Malty's recent move, she wasn't sure.
"If I, hypothetically, was suddenly overcome with the urge to kill someone, but don't act upon it, does that make me good? The action—or inaction—of not doing something bad?"
Father Bauley seemed to be sweating a little now. "Well, not doing bad things is always a good thing, I'd say."
"Quite right," Bald agreed.
"What he said."
Malty shot them a smile before focusing back on the board. She moved her rightmost pawn one step. "And what about the inaction of preventing something bad from happening? Let's say, you're witnessing a woman about to be raped. Are you a bad person if you don't interfere?"
"A difficult situation," Father Bauley said. "If it would mean risking your own life, a lot of people would understand if you didn't interfere. I'd say you have to decide that for yourself. In the end, it is you who has to live with your actions."
"Check." Malty hummed, a little frustrated that she wasn't getting closer to what she really wanted to ask. "And if there was no danger? I'm sure there are a lot of people starving each day. If I'm aware of that and not offer money, even though I have enough, does that make me a bad person?"
Father Bauley just smiled tightly and moved his king. He was probably getting annoyed by her questions.
Malty immediately followed up with her queen. "Checkmate." They reset the board. "A different scenario: If I were to know that, tomorrow, someone were to die, am I a bad person for not saving them, even though it would be little trouble for me?"
"But how could you know someone would die, Your Highness? If we're not talking about, for example, a scheduled execution."
Malty opened the next game by moving the pawn in front of her right knight two spaces. She liked that opening; it kept the pawns in front of the king as a protective barrier. "No execution. Let's just say I somehow knew—and it doesn't matter how or that it's impossible—that someone would die. Perhaps they would fall down a staircase and break their neck, with no one being at fault except bad luck. Would I be a bad person if I didn't prevent it?"
"Your Highness." Father Bauley smiled gently. "I think you know the answer to that yourself."
She sighed and leaned back against the settee's comfortable backrest, fingering with her cross pendant. She'd feared as much. So I really need to save that damn girl?
They played in silence, and Malty lost that game. "Let's do a little pause." Irritated, she waved for her masseuse and indulged in a little snack. The too-big hands of the masseuse settled on her shoulders, kneading her skin, not managing to remove the tension in her muscles. Didn't the Demi girl have small, graceful hands? she wondered, blinked, then smiled. Yes, I'm pretty sure she did. I could train her to replace...whatever the name of my current masseuse is.
Malty was briefly appalled by herself for even considering being touched by a Demi in such an intimate manner. But then again, touching Tolia and Mother Ralapha hadn't been that bad. She was going to be fine, and the thought of training her own masseuse to do things exactly however she wanted sounded very good.
Yes, I'll save her and get myself a new masseuse, Malty decided, waving away her masseuse. Catching two Filolials with one carriage, so to speak. "Thank you very much for your wisdom, Father Bauley." She smiled. "You've given me some much-needed clarity. Would you like to play another round?"
"Of course, Your Highness. I'm happy to know I could help."
With her headache gone, Malty could completely focus on the game. And she destroyed Father Bauley. With efficient laziness. She saw the move for the win—a simple queen move directly in front of the king, backed up by a bishop—but didn't take it. Instead, she took her time to capture every of Father Bauley's pieces, relishing her complete dominance. With his half of the board clean, she chased his king around to her heart's content, giggling. He was too nice to give up and went along with her amusement.
This is you, Raphtalia, Malty thought, looking at the helpless king, completely at her mercy. She'd be an annoying Magic-Sword-backstabbing nuisance no more. Just a little girl, trapped inside the castle. Though to her, it would be her safe haven, rescued from the cruelty of her previous owners. Oh, yes, yes, this is perfect! Malty would clear her conscience, get herself a new masseuse with wonderful hands and custom training, and have the little girl forever by her side. As a trophy. As a reminder of her complete victory. And the best thing was that she was actually doing something good. And on top of that, it would help further the image that she was crazy. Oh, not just two Filolials. Rather, it's three. Four? No, five! Five Filolials with one carriage! Genius! You're a genius, Malty S Melromarc!
Malty's giggling turned into more of an insane chortling.
Father Bauley cleared his throat. "Your Highness?"
"Yes? Why aren't you moving?"
"It's a tie."
Malty stopped giggling, frowning. "Say what?"
"We both repeated the same move three times. That means it's a tie."
"WHHHAAAAAAAT?!"
Bald and Blue-Eyes burst out laughing, the former falling off his chair and banging a fist against the floor in amusement. Malty giggled, then looked desperately at Father Bauley, searching for any lie. But he seemed honest. Perhaps a little embarrassed that he was honest and had made her aware of the tie.
"Truly?" Malty asked. "It's a rule?"
"Yes, Your Highness. If the exact same board state occurs three times, the game ends in a tie." He grinned guiltily. "Well, it's not a rule that I'd have to call the tie, but after how much you've chased me around the board, can you blame me?"
"I suppose not. I will not make this mistake again," she promised. "Next game!" She turned to the side. "And you two: Shut up!" They only laughed harder.
Malty played a few more games, nearly winning all. The fact that she'd thrown away her easy victory still stung a little, but it also acted as a reminder to not get ahead of herself. First, she needed to procure the Demi girl. Then she could wonder about what exactly to do with her.
With a sigh, Father Bauley tipped his king in surrender. "I'm afraid I stand no chance against you anymore, Your Highness. Was there something else you needed my advice on? As much as I enjoyed our games, I have other things that require my attention."
"Of course. How thoughtless of me." Malty stood. "I hope I'm not keeping you from doing anything important."
"Just the usual," he said with a smile.
"Wait a moment, please." Malty went into her bedroom to retrieve some money. "Here. Please take this as my gratitude."
"I... I couldn't!" he protested. "This is way too much. And... and I don't require any payment."
"It's not." Malty smiled and halted him from returning it. It was only three gold coins, after all. "It's not a payment. It's a donation. To the Four Saints Faith. Use the money however you want. I'm sure there are many members that could do with a little extra."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I insist you take it." It wouldn't do if anyone held a grudge against her because she occupied Father Bauley's time. This should assuage them.
"Thank you! Truly. Thank you so much, Your Highness." His grey eyes were twinkling with tears. He kept thanking her as he left, and Malty couldn't help but feel good.
"Truly magnanimous," Bald whispered into the silence that followed Father Bauley's exit, and they broke out laughing.
It was time for a little snack pause and a massage on her lounger. Hmm... I can't wait for my new masseuse, Malty thought as too-big hands kneaded her body. Now how would I go about buying her? It's not like she's just waiting at the local Slave Trader for me. I'll let someone else do it, of course.
After her massage, Malty took a seat at her writing desk and got to work. "Everyone out," she ordered. "Except for Bald and Blue-Eyes."
Her servants shuffled out of the room without hesitation. Bald and Blue-Eyes shared a glance, and Bald gulped.
Malty leaned back in her chair with arms crossed and a disapproving expression on her face, savoring their apprehension for a while longer.
"Princess?" Blue-Eyes eventually asked. "Have we done something to upset you?"
Malty grinned, and their tension bled away. "I have a mission for you."
"A mission?" Bald asked, intrigued.
"Yes, but first, have a seat, please."
They gathered their chairs and took their places in front of her desk.
"I need you to buy something for me," Malty said. "A slave, more specifically."
"A slave?" Blue-Eyes asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, a Demi-human." Malty shoved a folded piece of paper toward them. "Find her for me."
Blue-Eyes snatched the paper, briefly skimmed it, and handed it to Bald.
"Brown hair. Red eyes. Raccoon-type Demi-human," he read. "Age around 10 years. Size probably to match, perhaps larger due to levels. Small, graceful hands...?"
Blue-Eyes snorted.
"What?" Malty demanded.
"Princess, do you really think we can just find some random girl that looks like this? Just like that?"
"Do you need a picture?"
Blue-Eyes only stared.
"Is there something you want to say? Out with it now!"
"Your Highness," Bald said. "Haven't we converted to the Four Saints Faith?"
"We did." Malty was playing with her cross pendant.
"So why do you want to buy a Demi-human slave?"
"Because I'm in need of a new masseuse. One I'm planning to train however I may please. I'm not going to hold a slave, of course. She'll be free, just like the other servants."
"But... what's with the specifications for her race and appearance?"
It was too vague, wasn't it? What if they bought the wrong girl? There had to be a few raccoon slaves in Melromarc that matched the description. "Her name is Raphtalia."
Now they stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. Which, perhaps, she had.
"Your Highness," Bald said, frowning. "Who is this girl? Do you know her?"
"I dreamed of her," Malty said. "So you'll have to find her for me before she dies. That's what I've been talking about with Father Bauley earlier."
"Before she dies?"
"A dream?"
"Yes," Malty said. "Can't you just do as ordered?" Apparently not. "Alright, I'll tell you a little secret."
Blue-Eyes grinned. "I love secrets." They both leaned closer.
"Yes, a secret," she said quietly. "Something I haven't told anyone else. You probably have been wondering what may have been the cause of my recent change in behavior."
They nodded.
"Well, I had a dream. And I dreamed that I'd die. So... I've done my best to prevent that. I'm convinced it wasn't just a normal dream. It was a warning." She stared intently.
Bald was nodding in understanding. Blue-Eyes was frowning.
"Anyway, that's why I take my dreams very seriously. So you'll go and buy Raphtalia for me. Understood?"
They shared a glance. Bald grunted. Blue-Eyes shrugged. "Sure, I guess."
"You still don't believe me. Give me the note." Malty hastily added Raphtalia's name to the information and some details she remembered about her appearance, like her weird hairstyle. "She is real, and you will get her for me. Try the local slave trader. Perhaps that pig Rabier has her. And she's probably sick and frail. You should take some medicine with you. I'll cover the costs, naturally. Are we clear?"
Bald nodded. "So, do we both go or...?"
"One of you should suffice. I'll leave you to decide who goes and who stays."
Blue-Eyes grinned at his partner. "Wanna draw sticks?"
"Ha! So that you may cheat again? We'll play Rock Paper Scissors!"
"What now?" Malty wondered, frowning.
"It's a neat game. Tolia showed it to me," Bald said proudly. "Look, your Highness. There's the Rock, Paper, and Scissors," he explained, forming his hand into representations of the items. "Scissors cut Paper. Paper envelops Stone. And Stone breaks Scissors. You count to three chanting the game name, then pick one. If you picked correctly, you win. Or it's a tie, and you do it again."
"I see. Go ahead, then."
They did. Both grinning, they raised and lowered their fists three times, chanting, "Rock, Paper, Scissors!"
Then they both stretched out two fingers: Scissors.
"A tie," Bald said. "Again!"
They repeated the process. This time, Bald made his hand flat, then enveloped Blue-Eyes's fist. "Ha! I win!"
Malty nodded along, understanding.
"Not so fast," Blue-Eyes said. "No one ever said it'd be a best-of-one!"
"No one said it'd be a best-of-three either. That means it was a best-of-one."
"You only say that because you won!"
Bald grunted. "Fine. Best-of-three. Let's go!"
Malty watched them with a smile, carefully sipping her wine.
"Rock, Paper, Scissors!" They both picked Rock and repeated.
The next round, Blue-Eyes just curled his hand, making a hole with forefinger and thumb. "I win!"
"You don't! What's this?"
Blue-Eyes smirked. "It's the Well. Stone and Scissors fall inside, but Paper covers the top. Like so."
Bald narrowed his eyes. "You cheated. So I win."
"It's not a cheat. It's in the rules! You can only use the Well when you're behind in score."
Malty giggled.
Bald grunted. "There is no rule like that! The game Is called Rock, Paper, Scissors. Not Rock, Paper, Scissors, and Well if you're too bad to win!"
"Sore loser, much?"
"I'll show you sore loser!" Bald grabbed Blue-Eyes and put him in a headlock, then proceeded to run his fist across Blue-Eyes's hair, ruffling it up. "How do you like that, Blue-Eyes?"
"Let go, you brute! My hair!"
Malty laughed loudly, and the two knights were also chuckling.
"You bald mongrel!" Blue-Eyes struggled for a while longer before Bald finally released him. He glared, righting his hair.
"Eh, don't be such a pussy," Bald said. "Cheaters get punished. That's a rule. Now, we still have a game to finish. And I'm leading with one point."
Blue-Eyes shot Malty a pleading look, but she only giggled at his disheveled state, wiping tears out of her eyes. "Go on."
They resumed the game. Blue-Eyes managed to even the score, but in the end, Bald won, cutting through Blue-Eyes's Paper with two fingers.
"See? The best player won. And we won't make it a best-of-five."
"Congratulations," Blue-Eyes said, grinning. "You've won the honor of fulfilling the Princess's mission."
"What? No! The winner stays behind. The loser goes. That's obvious."
"We never agreed to that. Princess, what do you say?"
Malty needed a moment to bring her giggling under control. "The winner..." She took a deep breath. "The winner gets to choose. That's obvious."
"Quite right," Bald agreed. "Which means that I'll stay here in this cozy room, and you'll go buy the Demi girl."
Blue-Eyes pouted for a moment, then shook his head, grinning. "Fine, fine, you win." He stood. "I guess I shall ready myself for this little vacation then." He winked at Malty.
"I'll miss you," she said honestly. "Don't take too long. I fear Raphtalia doesn't have much time left if no one rescues her."
"You can count on me, Princess." Blue-Eyes bowed, then left promptly.
They stared at the door for a moment. With a grunt, Bald turned back to her. "So, Your Highness, would you like to play some Rock, Paper, Scissors with me?"
Malty grinned. "I'd love to."
They played for a long while, having a great time. Once they grew bored of it, they transitioned into playing chess. Bald was actually pretty good at the game and beat her more often than not. He was a pleasant playing partner. When he lost, he did so with composure, and when he won, he always had some tips to offer, pointing out weaknesses in her play. Near the end, she felt like she could go toe-to-toe with him.
Evening approached, and it was time for the real test.
"Good evening, father," she said. "Would you like to play some chess while we dine?"
Instantly, his mood brightened. "Of course." He let bring a chess set and forewent his spot at the head of the long dinner table, instead, sitting at the side so that they could properly face each other. Naturally, he let her play white, and Malty opened with her typical pawn in front of her right knight. Aultcray smiled gently, probably holding back a chuckle. Of course, she knew it wasn't the best move to start the game, but she'd won with it a few times, so it wasn't the worst either. Her father mirrored her on the first four moves, humoring her.
They got served a juicy Filolial roast. It tasted delightful, the flavor of the red wine in which it'd been cooked still wonderfully strong. She took her time, savoring every little bite as she thought about her next move.
Time for my left knight, she decided, but Aultcray halted her, gently covering her hand with his.
"This piece moves like that," he explained, gesturing.
"Papa." Malty smiled gently. "I know how a knight moves."
"You do?"
"Yes." She tried not to be offended by his honest surprise and confusion. "I told you that chess was actually invented by a past Hero, right?"
He hummed.
"Well, I had Father Bauley come over today, and we played...at lot."
"Oh? Is he any good?"
"Hmm, not really. He's certainly no match for you. By the end, I was defeating him easily."
"You did?" He was regarding her with raised eyebrows.
"Yes." She moved her knight as intended. "I know that you let me win when we played in the past. I mean, of course, I knew that." She actually hadn't. Well, at one point, she'd actually believed that she was just a natural at the game. She blushed a little at the memory. She had been young, and he had been her only opponent, but she still felt very naive for even considering that. "So I want you to play the best that you can. Okay, father?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's not a real victory if your opponent doesn't give its all."
"As you wish, my dear daughter."
It was a bit disheartening just how easy Aultcray beat her. Completely trashed her. But she didn't let it ruin her mood. She'd expected this. And after a truly embarrassing defeat that had barely taken any moves, she learned and adapted, making their games last longer.
"I think we should call it a night, Malty," Aultcray stopped her as she made to reset the board yet again. The sun had set a long while ago.
"Okay, Papa." She yawned. "I'm sorry I took so much of your time."
"It's no problem." He had one of his new proud smiles on his face. "I had some great fun. And really, it's such a joy to see you improving in front of my eyes."
Malty grinned. "Someday, I will beat you," she promised.
"Ha! That's my girl! Such passion." Aultrcray smiled and patted her hand. "I'm looking forward to it. I know you can do it."
She smirked as they stood. "Count on it, old man."
"Hey! Don't get cheeky, young miss." He was grinning.
Malty hugged him. "Love you, Papa."
"Love you too, Malty." He gave her a goodnight kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well."
"Good night." Half-way to her rooms, Malty halted and made a detour toward Rellaya's quarter to invite her for some late-night chatting, which the woman happily accepted.
Of course, there wasn't much actual chatting happening, though Rellaya got to greatly exercise her tongue. Both naked, they were in her bed, Malty reclining against her soft pillows, sighing and moaning while sweet pleasure coursed through her body with every stroke of Rellaya's tongue. She was resting one foot on Rellaya's back, moving it up and down her ass from time to time.
Malty sipped her wine and let out a long pleased sigh, relishing the flavor on her tongue as it mixed with the faint taste of the Filolial roast from earlier. She spilled some onto her chest and the mattress during her first orgasm, but it wasn't a problem and gave her a good excuse to order Rellaya to kiss and suck on every little spot of skin.
You, Malty S Melromarc, are a genius, she toasted herself while she congratulated herself once again on her ingenious decision earlier, and her sudden success at chess made her feel very smug. Sighing as Rellaya sucked on her nipples, Malty reasoned that the earlier dinner had been a sign of the universe, and she convinced herself that she had, in fact, eaten the Shield Hero's Filolial abomination, completely destroying his party that would never be. She giggled. Almost cackled.
Rellaya paused. "What's so funny, Malty?"
"Hush. I just thought of something from earlier." She pushed Rellaya's head back in-between her legs. "Yes, that's better." Malty sighed blissfully. You just relax and win while no one even notices a thing. Now nothing can go wrong.
Famous last words.
A Drunken Hero Summoning
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Rellaya was sucking on Malty's left nipple, fondling the other breast with a hand, and gently massaging her pussy, but no pleasure registered in Malty's brain.
What if things go awry? Malty thought, pressing a hand against her throbbing forehead. What if I've fucked up everything? What if this is a terrible mistake? One I'll regret for the rest of my life? What if... what if? She groaned as the thoughts kept coming.
Rellaya stopped. "Malty? Are you alright? Do you want me to do something else?"
"No, I... I'm sorry. My head is just elsewhere..." She let out a long, suffering sigh. I should have drunk more.
"Should I go?"
"No!" Being alone with her thoughts sounded even more maddening.
"So..." Rellaya sat back and took a pillow, hugging it to hide her nakedness. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Malty frowned at the other woman. Is she genuine? Or is she just saying what I want to hear? It's not like we're friends or anything. Well, can't hurt either way. She sighed. "You know that tomorrow the Heroes get summoned, right?"
"I've heard of it, yes."
"Well, I'd planned to just ignore it, to not get involved. But now I can't help but feel as if it'll be a terrible mistake."
"I see. So what would you do instead?"
"I don't know!" Malty cried, putting her head in her hands. "I don't know anything anymore! I don't know what to do! I don't want to die! I just want things to pass by. But what if—" She paused when a hand settled on her shoulder and looked up.
"Hey." Rellaya was smiling gently. "Stop worrying. You're overthinking it."
Malty swallowed and nodded.
"Come here." Rellaya discarded her pillow and drew Malty in for a hug, and Malty let her. It felt good, being embraced by a naked woman. "Let's lie down."
"Okay." Eyes, closed, Malty just went along as Rellaya shifted and covered them with the blanket.
Rellaya held Malty against her chest, drawing soothing circles on her back and caressing the nape of her neck. "Everything's alright, Malty. I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."
Malty believed her. The tension and the headache vanished, and she just focused on the soothing words and touch and the wonderful skin contact and Rellaya's scent and the soft fabric of the blanket against her legs and her cheek against Rellaya's breasts. She sighed in relief. "Thank you. You're good at this."
"I got a little sister."
"Hm-hmm." Malty wasn't sure why that mattered but didn't want to ask. "Can you stay the night?"
"For a little extra?"
"Two gold coins," Malty mumbled, getting sleepy.
"Deal."
Malty fell asleep a moment later.
Rellaya was gone when Malty awoke, but that was fine.
I won't get involved, she vowed and ordered breakfast in bed. It helped occupy her and kept her rooted in her bedroom, but she couldn't enjoy it as much as she'd have liked and drunk more than she usually did.
Afterward, she took a bath and readied herself for the day, then transitioned into her living room. Bald was already there, but he hadn't brought the books or any money with him; Malty had twice worked through them and had done the last apologies yesterday, sending messengers with apology letters and money to former servants that had found work elsewhere.
"Bald," Malty said as she took a spot on her lounger. "Come play Rock Paper Scissors with me."
He grinned. "I thought you'd never ask, Your Highness."
"Rock Paper Scissors! Rock Paper Scissors!..."
Mala interrupted after a while. "Your Highness, don't you want to join your father to greet the Hero—"
"Ah ah ah." Malty held up a hand. "Don't say it. I won't do anything today. I'll just stay here, and I don't want to hear another word of...whatever may happen elsewhere in the castle."
Mala was regarding her with a frown, but eventually nodded. "Of course, Your Highness."
Malty played some more Rock Paper Scissors with Bald, and when she grew bored of that, they transitioned onto her settees and played chess. Every time her thoughts drifted toward the Heroes, she took a sip of her wine. After a while, she had successfully forgotten about it and went into her usual routine: chess, massages, snacks, wine. By midday, she was so drunk that, even though she'd beaten Bald easily yesterday thanks to the improvements she'd made from playing with her father, she barely won any games anymore.
It was afternoon when one of her father's servants entered the room. "Your Highness." He bowed. "The Hero summoning was a success!"
A wave of panic shot through Malty. The Hero summoning! she thought. I have to— Do nothing. I'm drinking because I want to forget about it. Remember? She shook her head and groaned.
"Is everything alright?" the servant asked. He looked around the room, which had gone completely silent, gulped, and excused himself after another bow.
Uncertainty and doubt were churning in Malty's stomach. She tried to focus on the game of chess she was in the process of losing but couldn't shake the thoughts anymore.
Maybe I should just do something about it? she wondered. It's no use evading things. Yes, better to silence that doubt. I'll just... She hummed, rolling her captured queen in-between finger and thumb, eyes flickering across the board. I'll just pay the Heroes a visit and introduce myself as the princess. Then there's no way I can go back to what I did before. She grinned. Her headache lessened and her stomach calmed. Yes, genius plan, Malty.
She stood. "I'll go to visit the Heroes. Bald, accompany me."
With a grunt, he obeyed. Malty held onto him to steady herself. She wasn't that drunk yet, but she wasn't about to take any chances while descending the staircases.
The Heroes had already been led to their rooms, as some passing servants told her. Papa had informed her of the logistics yesterday, making special emphasis on the fact that the Shield Hero's room was the exact same as that of the others: a richly-decorated suit with multiple beds and a balcony with a view of the castle gardens.
"The Heroes are all inside?" she asked the knights standing guard in front of the Spear Hero's room. They nodded. "Good. Bald, you wait outside. Don't do anything foolish."
"Wrong knight," he said, grinning. "Blue-Eyes isn't here."
"Right." Malty carefully opened the door and entered.
The Heroes were seated on chairs, in the middle of a heated discussion that made little sense to her, shouting weird names, and hadn't noticed her yet.
She grinned. Should I give them a little scare? Yes, I totally should. "Heywhaaa!—" She stumbled, her left foot having caught some unexpected resistance. Arms flailing, she tried to keep her balance, then fell forward and crashed to the ground, barely catching herself on her elbows. "Owww..."
Her vision swam. Voices echoed around her. Someone helped her up gently.
"Are you okay? Can you stand?" Someone sighed dreamily. "So beautiful. What is your name, angel?"
That voice. That smell... Malty thought, frowning. Her vision cleared, and she shook the steadying arms off, stumbling sideways. "I'm not sucking your...small dick ever again...Motoyasu!" She caught herself against a bed and sat down, breathing in and out.
Around her, laughter echoed, and Malty giggled.
"What?! It... it's not small!"
It wasn't, but that hadn't made him any less of a failure in bed.
"Tsk, tsk, Motoyasu. We're barely an hour here, and you already have a reputation."
"Come on, guys! I've never seen her before! We were together all the time! You know I didn't do anything." More laughter. "Idiots..."
Malty looked at the Heroes. Shield Devil! She squeaked as a moment of panic shot through her. It's not him. Calm down, Malty. Just breathe. I'm back in time. It's not him. Yes, the open and friendly expression on the Shield Hero's face could be in no way mistaken from what she remembered. Did he look so cute the last time as well? It was probably the blush on his cheeks. She giggled and waved at him, and he lowered his eyes, blush deepening.
"So, who are you?" Motoyasu asked, smiling. "And how do you know my name?"
Oh shit, Malty thought. I already fucked—
The Sword Hero scoffed. "Maybe because we introduced ourselves earlier? Does your brain not work the moment you see a girl or what?"
"Hey!"
Malty laughed. "He's not wrong."
Motoyasu scowled at the other Heroes while they laughed and chuckled.
"It would be polite to introduce ourselves anyway," the Bow Hero said. "I'm Kawasumi Itsuki. 17 years old and a high school attendant." He suggested a bow.
The others followed his example.
Why are they saying their last names first? she wondered but thought it impolite to ask.
"And you, angel?" Motoyasu asked, taking a step toward her. He made to grasp her hand. "What's your na—"
Malty barely evaded his grasp and flicked him against the head. Thanks for the inspiration, Tolia. Motoyasu jerked back, and she giggled. "No touching."
Pouting, he let himself fall onto the ground theatrically. "I think I'm in love... and my heart is broken..."
Malty ignored him and focused on the other Heroes. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Malty S Melromarc. I am the first princess of this country."
Motoyasu sighed. "A princess..."
"Not to be confused with the crown princess. That's my little sister, Melty. Second princess and crown princess, Melty. And I'm Malty, first and not-crown princess. Okay?"
The Sword Hero—Ren—was squinting at her. "Is it a custom that the second princess is made crown princess here?"
Malty smiled. "I'm glad you asked, sir Sword Hero. No, it isn't a custom. I'm not crown princess because my mother thought me unfit to rule. She was right, of course. I'm just a lazy drunk who wants to stay out of things and have no trouble whatsoever. Remember that."
Ren snorted. Itsuki tried and failed to hold back a giggle. Motoyasu had finally recovered and was retaking his spot on his chair. Naofumi was smiling at her, his expression one of sympathy.
I want to crush that innocence and— No! Bad Malty! Bad! She shook her head. "So, who wants to play some chess?"
"Chess?" Motoyasu asked. "You have that here?"
"Of course." Malty fingered with her cross pendant. "Chess was brought to this world by a past Hero, after all. I've heard most Heroes know the rules. Is that true?"
"I do!" Motoyasu said, and the other Heroes gave nods of affirmation.
"Great!" Malty clapped her hands, then called, "Hello!~ Whoever is listening in on this conversation: Please have someone bring me my chess set! Thank you!"
"Right away, Your Highness," Bald's muffled voice sounded from outside, followed by his retreating footsteps.
Oh, right, she thought, face heated. I'd forgotten he was there.
"Listening in on us?" Itsuki wondered.
"Of course. The walls have ears here in the castle. You should be careful about what you say. You never know who might be listening. Hmm-hm." Malty nodded sagely, her eyes on Naofumi. He averted his gaze after a moment.
Motoyasu chuckled. He made some more advances toward her, which she rebutted mercilessly, then Bald finally entered the room with her chess set.
"Here, Your Highness."
Accepting it, Malty smiled. "Thank you, Bald."
He grunted and left the room.
"His name is Bald?" Naofumi asked.
"Just a nickname. Would you mind bringing me a table?"
They obeyed—really, who could resist her charming smile?—and put a table in front of her so that she could remain seated on the comfortable bed. After repositioning their chairs, they sat around the table in a half-circle, facing her.
Malty set the chessboard. "So, who'd like to play?"
"Me!" Motoyasu immediately exclaimed.
"I wouldn't mind," Itsuki said.
Ren shrugged. "Sure."
"What about you, Naofumi? Would you like to play?" Malty smiled at him. He had to be the best of them.
"Ahem, I—"
"What? Naofumi?" Motoyasu chuckled, making a careless hand gesture. "He's just a Shielder."
"Yeah," Ren said. "He's not much of a gamer, anyway."
Naofumi seemed dejected, mouth in a thin line, and wouldn't meet her eyes.
Malty frowned. The Naofumi I remember would have told Motoyasu to fuck off by now. "What's the matter?" Of course, she knew exactly what was going on. Motoyasu had quite often told her how the Shield was a weak "class" and was practically useless. Certainly not how things actually were.
"Motoyasu," Malty instructed, "stop belittling Naofumi for his class. The same goes for you two. All the Heroes are necessary in the battle against the Waves. You may think to know what lies ahead because of knowledge from your world, but you don't. The Shield Hero is powerful. Perhaps he even is the most powerful."
"R-really?" Naofumi asked.
"Yes. If you don't believe me, you should visit the castle library and read up on our world's history." Malty smiled. "There are many that rever the Shield Hero, and there are just as many—though probably more—that fear him. Understood?"
Naofumi was staring at his Shield with a grin on his flushed face. His eyes flickered toward her, and he nodded.
"Alright."
"Yeah..."
"I guess."
Malty clapped her hands. "Great! Now, who wants to play chess?"
They agreed that Motoyasu would go first, probably because he was just the loudest. Malty expected little, and she got worse. He was too busy staring at her.
"You can't do that," she informed him.
"What? Why not?"
"Didn't you listen? I said Check. That means you have to move your king or block or capture the threatening piece."
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I see." He moved the worst possible piece, and Malty finished the game.
"Checkmate."
"Huh. Alright."
Malty cleared her throat. "Is there someone who actually knows how to play?"
"I guess I do," Ren said. "Not that it's possible to be even worse than Motoyasu."
"Hey!"
Laughing, they reset the game. The young Sword Hero wasn't that bad, but still not good enough, playing from behind after only a few turns.
"You should move the bishop there," Itsuki suggested.
Ren grunted but didn't do as told, squinting at the board.
"Castling would be good, no?" Naofumi asked. He glimpsed at her, and she smiled and nodded. It actually was one of the better moves here—not that it would save them.
"Are you playing? Or am I?" Ren asked, sending Naofumi a glare.
"Well, I—"
"No, you're not playing. So keep your advice for when it's your turn."
"Sorry," Naofumi grumbled, "I was just trying to help."
"I didn't ask for it. Now stop distracting me."
"Maybe you didn't ask for it," Malty said. "But you'll need it nonetheless. Naofumi's advice is good. You should take it."
Predictably, he didn't, and Malty immediately punished him for it. She finished the game after a few more efficiently lazy moves.
"Defeated by his own pride," she taunted. "How unbecoming of a Hero. I'm disappointed."
Ren glared. "Disappointed? Well, I guess you'd know all about being a disappointment, not-crown Princess."
"Argh!" How dare you! she thought, having just enough restraint left to keep the words inside. Why am I even getting upset? He's right, but that's okay. Malty averted her eyes and took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts.
"My apologies," she said with a smile. "I hadn't meant to insult you. It's just... it is imperative that the Heroes work together."
"I see," Ren said. "But I prefer to do things alone."
Malty frowned. "My father explained the situation, didn't he?"
"The prophecy?" Naofumi asked.
"Yes. Our world is in danger. We're all counting on you Heroes. So please, don't let any pride get in the way of performing your duties."
"Okay." They all agreed.
"Great!" Malty clapped her hands and reset the board. "Now let's play again. Me against you four. Do your best and work together please."
They couldn't decide how to start.
"Come on," she said. "The first move isn't even that important." She sighed. "Naofumi, you go first."
They obeyed, then just agreed to take turns.
Not what I had in mind, but okay. They made it six turns before arguing broke out again. This time it was Itsuki and Motoyasu who just couldn't agree. When they started to raise their voices and got up from their chairs, the other two stepped in. For a moment, it looked like they were starting to reach a consensus, but then the shouting match continued in a two-vs-two.
They're hopeless! she thought, putting her head in her hands, groaning. Just a bunch of children. How will they save us? It was nothing she hadn't already known. She'd just thought that she could have changed things... Whatever. I tried my best. Now it's time to leave before I get dragged into something I want no part of.
Malty cleared her throat to gain their attention. Unsuccessfully. Then she simply stood and made for the door.
"Hey! Guys! Stop!" Motoyasu demanded. "Malty? Where are you going?"
"Outside. It's not like you'll ever get along and actually work together, will you? Why, with you four as the Heroes, I might as well drink myself to death because the world has no hope of surviving, anyway."
"Please don't leave," Motoyasu begged.
"Yes," Itsuki said. "We'll try harder."
Ren nodded once.
Malty bit her lips. I really should leave. Then she looked at Naofumi's guilty expression. Like a kicked Filolial chick... Aww... I want to pet him. She sighed. "Fine. Let's get back to the game."
"Yay!" Motoyasu cheered.
They were calmer now, but not any better, still not making any attempts to truly work together, each following their own strategy. After four easy wins, she was only looking for an excuse to leave. It presented itself a moment later when there was a knock on the door.
"Your Highness," Bald's voice sounded from outside. "Your father is expecting you for dinner."
"Oh. Alright." Malty stood. "I'll have to go then. Remember my words." The last was especially directed at Naofumi, then she left.
"I've heard you visited the Heroes," Aultcray said during dinner. "What do you think of them?"
Malty picked at her food: some noodles with a green sauce. "I think we're all going to die."
He chuckled. "Now now, my dear girl, don't reach any foregone conclusions." He patted her hand. "How about a game of chess?"
"No thank you, father. I'm much too drunk."
"Yes... I've noticed that you're drinking quite a bit recently. Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine." She reached for her wine glass and groaned when Aultcray halted her.
"Don't overdo it, please."
"I won't. I told you, I'm fine!"
"Sorry for prying. But I can't help but worry."
Malty shot him a sad smile. "I know, Papa. I know. Thank you. I'm not hungry. If you'll excuse me."
She retreated into her rooms and drank some more. Ugh, how long is Blue-Eyes taking to buy my new masseuse? she thought while too-large hands kneaded her skin. It's only been...what, two days? Hmm... Well, he better hurry. Her thoughts drifted back to the Heroes, especially Naofumi.
If Malty was being honest, which she always was while being this drunk, she was still irked about his rejection on that first evening. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, but Malty had taken that very personally and had especially relished fucking him over after that. Maybe things will be different now? Hmm... It can't hurt to try. And perhaps I'll give him a hint or two about the future.
Bald wasn't there, probably still at his dinner with the other knights, so she got Mala to escort her downstairs, miraculously managing not to trip.
"They're each in their own rooms?" she asked the guards.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"And this is the Shield Hero's room?"
They nodded.
Malty entered, not being as sneaky as she'd have liked. Naofumi, standing on the balcony and looking out over the evening-sun-basked gardens, immediately noticed her. He hurried over and just managed to catch her as she tripped.
Fuck. I'm so drunk. She giggled, hanging in his arms.
"P-princess?" He steadied her. "Are you alright? C-come on. Sit down here...on the bed."
"Hmm... Thank you."
"No problem." Naofumi took a place next to her, though he left quite a bit of distance between them.
Malty smoothed over her dress.
He swallowed. "Can I... can I help you somehow, princess?"
"You sure can." She grinned at him, head tilted. She was having thoughts that she shouldn't be having, but that only made them more enticing. "Come a little closer, Naofumi. Don't be shy."
He swallowed and did as told, though he kept his gaze lowered, looking flustered. "I... I wanted to say... Thank you... for earlier. It means a lot."
"Heh. You really shouldn't listen to the other Heroes. They're all idiots." She waved a careless hand, and he chuckled.
"Well... thank you."
"Hmm-hm. I'm pretty awesome, aren't I?" She giggled and edged a little closer.
Naofumi nodded.
"You think I'm beautiful, don't you?"
"Y-yeah."
"And you want to kiss me." It wasn't a question. "I know you've thought about it."
"Maybe..."
"Look at me."
He did.
So cute... Malty raised a hand to his face and felt his skin: flushed and warm. He seemed frozen. She placed her other hand at the other side of his head. Then she pinched his cheeks. "Awwww! C-cute Shield Devil."
Bursting out laughing, she released him and doubled over. Her laughter sounded insane to her ears. She wheezed for breath. Eventually, she managed to reduce it to only giggling. "S-sorry! Sorry. I couldn't resist..."
"It's fine..."
Malty looked up at him. "Seriously, though: Want to fuck?"
She didn't think his face could have gotten any redder, but it did. "I-I think you sh-should leave. You're drunk."
She pouted, then sighed. Wasn't there something I wanted to do? Hmmm... I can't remember. "Want to go upstairs with me? I could show you my rooms..."
"I d-don't think that's a good idea."
"Spoilsport." She stood, and Naofumi immediately made to steady her.
"I... I'm sorry. I don't me— mean to be rude, but we barely know...each other."
Oh, but I do. Nearly at the door, Malty stumbled. He caught her. As she righted herself, she leaned into him...and smashed their faces together, somehow managing to cover his lips with hers. He froze. She closed her eyes, humming, and pushed her tongue in his mouth. She put a hand at the back of his head, deepening the kiss. Hmm... Soft like a woman.
He pushed her away, staring wide-eyed. "Ah, I, we, eh, you..." His mouth was opening and closing without anything coherent coming out.
Malty licked her lips, giggling. She was leaning against him to keep herself upward, hands on his shoulders. "Was that your first, kiss, Naofumi?" she whispered.
He nodded dumbly.
Malty smirked. "First, I stole your girlfriend. Now I stole your first kiss~ and you're not getting them back!" She laughed—cackled—and rested her head against him.
"You... you should leave." He tried to gently remove her from his form.
In a moment of clarity, Malty suddenly sobered up. She grasped him by the shoulders and pushed, making him slam into the wall. He grunted, surprised.
She moved her head next to his and whispered, "Listen closely, Naofumi. You need to be careful. Nothing is like it seems. Do you understand? Don't trust anyone! No one. Not even me." She chortled. "Especially not me. Didn't go over well for you the last time, did it?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that your life is going to suck if you're not careful. Okay?"
"I... Right, okay."
Malty released him. She smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Ahhh... My conscience is clear. "No one," she said with narrowed eyes while poking him in the chest with a finger.
His expression was priceless, so she giggled and turned, stumbling toward the door. He caught up with her and helped her outside.
"Your Highness!"
Frowning, she looked up. "Baaald!"
"There you are. I've been looking all over the castle for you."
"Aww... such a loyal bodyguard."
"What...were you doing in the Shield Hero's room?"
"Kissing!" She made smooching sounds, then burst out laughing, only Naofumi's steadying arm keeping her upward.
Naofumi was stammering out some explanation how she'd stumbled into his room and how he'd done his best to get her to leave.
Malty giggled. "It's true!"
"I see," Bald said. "Give her to me. I'll take her back to her rooms."
"I... Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I'm... I'm really sorry about this."
Bald grunted and picked her up in a princess carry.
She squealed, then giggled. "Such strong arms..."
"Good night, Shield Hero." Bald nodded, then carried her away.
Malty let her head fall backward. Everything was upside-down, spinning, and shaking, but she thought to make out Naofumi's form. "Remember my words! Good luuuck!" She waved.
They rounded a corner, and Naofumi was gone.
"Your Highness... did you really kiss the Shield Hero?"
Malty grinned up at him. "Hmmm... jealous?"
"If it makes you feel better..."
"It does."
"Then yes, I'm very jealous."
"Good..." Sighing, Malty closed her eyes and relaxed, enjoying being carried. "Tomorrow we'll do piggyback," she mumbled.
"Of course, Your Highness."
Malty awoke with a headache and Mala sitting at her bedside with a worried frown on her face. Mala brought her up to date on things while being adamant that she drink a few ladles of water. Apparently, she'd overslept, and the Heroes had already been assigned their companions and left the castle.
Crushing relief washed over Malty, and she relaxed into the bedding. Finally, she thought, breathing deeply. Finally, I can have my peace.
"Do I have any duties today?" she asked, eyes closed.
"No, Your Highness."
"Good. Good. Prepare a hot bath for me. And breakfast. Hmm... both at the same time."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Thank you, Mala."
Malty enjoyed her new freedom and stayed in her room the whole day, being efficiently lazy. She only left in the evening to have dinner with her father.
He looked worried for some reason. Perhaps disapproving. "Is it true that you were in the Shield Hero's room? Alone?"
"Yes?"
"And you...you kissed him?"
Malty frowned. Did I? Hmm... yes, I did. She broke out giggling as shaky memories came back to her. And I warned him. Genius plan, Malty. No one will suspect a thing.
"Maybe?" she said. "I can't really remember. I was so drunk." She groaned. "I still got a headache."
"You really need to stop drinking so much, my sweet girl."
"Okay, Papa," she said. "I'm fine though. Stop worrying."
He covered one of her hands with his. "No more drinking today. Okay, Malty?"
She nodded. "Promise."
"Thank you. Now have a good night."
"You too." Malty did have a good night. With no irate thoughts to distract her, she let Rellaya pleasure her for hours, falling asleep in the woman's embrace after more orgasms than she dared to count, sweaty, relaxed, and wonderfully content.
Malty woke up early and alone the next day and decided that she'd reassure her father of her well-being by spending some time with him. At the very least, the goings-on in the throne room would provide some entertainment. Now that she had no more apologies to do, nothing unpleasant to evade, and no hangover to recover from, having a whole day of doing nothing ahead of her felt oddly daunting.
She had her servants set up her lounger and breakfast near her father's throne beside the windows like a few days ago, and Aultcray was delighted about her presence. She watched him deal with some organizational matters while she indulged in a lovely sweet breakfast and a bit of Seaetto wine.
What's going on? Malty thought as more and more people—nobles, knights, and Church members—entered the throne room, speaking quietly among themselves in agitated voices. I have a bad feeling about this. It's like I'm observing my memory as a spectator.
She was suddenly not hungry anymore and relaxed into the pillows on her lounger, watching as a trial was set up. Uncertainty was churning in her stomach, and she tried to make it vanish with some more wine, drinking a few glasses in her nervousness. It didn't help much.
Itsuki, Ren, and Motoyasu entered, expressions grim. Following them was the reason for all this: a crying girl being escorted by Elena and Lesty. She wore a witch's hat and had a cloak slung tightly around her form, trying to hide away.
Isn't that this naive girl we sold into slavery? Malty wondered. Huh. I guess it is. What was her name again? Rona? Rina? Hmm... I can't remember.
The trial got called into effect. Sipping wine, Malty watched on dumbfounded as the girl—Rino—gave her statement about being raped by the Shield Hero.
Huh. She's a flawless actor. That's odd.
People were just as outraged as the last time. Then Naofumi got unkindly dragged into the room, only clad in his underwear. Just as last time, he seemed to have no idea what was going on, calling out for Rino if she was alright and claiming that his things had been stolen.
Poor Shield Devil. Malty shot him a sympathetic glance and pout when their gazes met for a moment. Can't say I didn't warn you.
Aultcray called for order. "Now, Shield Hero, you claim to have no knowledge of last night?"
"I told you! I went to bed early! When I woke up, all my things were gone, and when I tried to get some knights to help, they dragged me here! Please, king. I don't know what's happening!"
Aultcray, to his credit, was very calm and collected. "I see. Thank you for your testimony. Now... Rino, you poor adventurer, would you repeat your accusation once more?"
"A-again?" she cried, face hidden in Elena's chest.
"Yes..." Aultcray sighed. "And I'd ask you to testify under Slave Curse."
Holy Filolial shit, Malty thought, halting mid-sip. You go, Papa!
It was silent aside from Rino's sobbing.
"I hope you can forgive me," Aultcray continued. "But accusing a Hero is a very serious matter. There can't be any doubt."
Elena and Lesty were hugging Rino, rubbing her back and talking quietly.
"O-okay," Rino eventually said, nodding.
Malty refilled her glass. Priests approached and drew a Slave Seal on Rino's chest. Aultcray explained how things worked and asked the Heroes to act as judges alongside him, even allowing Naofumi to be part of the Slave Contract. Malty's heart was racing. The girl gave her testimony.
"I... I got woken up sometime... I don't know when. It was dark, and I couldn't see. I c-couldn't move. My hands were b-bound, and I was gagged. The Shi— he was on top of me, un— undressing me. And then... then he... d-defiled me." Rino sniveled. "I can still smell his... his breath and h-hear his voice. How he told me that he... that he'd thought about d-doing it the whole day, and how good my... my v-virgin pu—" She broke down sobbing in Elena and Lesty's embrace.
The Slave Crest remained inactive.
"I think that's quite enough," Aultcray said, voice filled with barely-constraint anger.
Did he actually do it? Malty wondered. Naofumi looked as helpless, confused, and innocent as the last time. Of course, not.
Rino continued with her testimony. She described how scared she'd been and how she'd somehow managed to get rid of the gag to scream for help. Then the Shield Hero had apparently fled from the room, leaving behind his things. The evidence got supplied by some knights, and they testified how they'd "caught" Naofumi in only his underwear and in a frantic state.
Malty's drunk mind finally managed to make sense of it all. Holy fucking Filolial shit, she thought. She actually got raped. She's as innocent as Naofumi in this. The Church must have hired someone to first steal Naofumi's things, plant them in Rino's room, then rape the poor girl, only to leave at the right time for Naofumi to take the fall. Some lowlife volunteer shouldn't have been too hard to find, and said person was now probably half-way across the country with trousers filled with gold. Or lying in some back alley with a cut throat, most likely. Yes, she doubted they would leave behind any witnesses. Malty was almost impressed by the efficient ruthlessness.
Hmm... And because the Slave Seal didn't work on Heroes, there was nothing Naofumi could do to prove his innocence. It's a fucking Seal-proof plan. The reality of the situation was now also daunting on Naofumi, his open expression shifting into one of grim acceptance and despair.
Malty couldn't help but find it ironic that, despite her best efforts, he'd been fucked over. And on top of that, the little Rino girl hadn't just become a sex slave but had actually been raped in the most traumatizing manner.
A giggle escaped Malty. And because of the Slave Seal testimony, no one will doubt Naofumi's guilt. He's even more fucked than the last time! Because of what I did—or rather, what I didn't do! She laughed. She just couldn't help herself. The irony! She threw her head back in amusement. Oh fuck, I shouldn't laugh while there's a rape victim in the room. Somehow, the thought had the opposite effect, and she was unable to stop. There was a shattering sound as she accidentally dropped her wine glass.
Malty choked on some wine she'd been in the process of drinking but had forgotten about, some of it coming out of her nose. Doubling over, half-laughing, half-choking, she nearly fell off her lounger. Someone—Bald—was thumping her on the back and steadied her.
"T-thanks." She immediately burst out laughing again, throwing herself back into the soft pillows. He's fucked! So fucked! And on top of that, I have stolen Raphtalia! So he'll be on his own. Holy Filolial shit! He's completely and utterly fucked! Her loud, insane cackling laughter echoed back from the walls and ceiling. She kicked her legs in amusement, hitting the pillows on her lounger with her hands.
It must have been minutes when she finally calmed down. She sagged in on herself, gasping for breath, wiping tear-filled eyes. A cough brought her attention back to reality and into the throne room. Everyone was staring at her incredulously, as if she'd lost her mind—which she definitely had. Some were angry, understandably. Among them was Naofumi, his gaze one of pure hatred...and completely directed at her.
Oh fuck, she thought, hyperventilating, putting a hand atop her racing heart, grasping the cross pendant. Save me, Saints...
Well, the story has finally started for real.
Fortune in Misfortune
French Guest Review: Thank you very much for another review! Don't misinterpret this—and I'll say it loud and clear—but your reviews always make me giggle and smile like a fool, even after rereading them countless times. I'm not sure whether it's because of how it sounds after I used the App's auto-translate function or just how you formulate things. But I love it! :D
"Please get up, Your Highness."
"No. Go away."
Mala sighed. "It's been two days."
"I don't care!"
The crimson curtains of her four-poster bed got abruptly yanked aside, and assaulting sunlight stung Malty's eyes and made her squeak. "Mala!" She threw herself onto her belly and buried her head under one of her pillows.
"It's afternoon, Your Highness. You need to get up."
"And you need to get out. After you close the curtains!"
"I won't. Will you get out of bed now?"
Malty groaned. "No..."
"You can't spend the rest of your life in bed."
"I can and I will!" Malty squeaked again as the blanket got removed from her. "How dare you! Give it back!" she shouted into the mattress.
Mala sighed. "You need to get up, Your Highness."
"Give me back my blanket or you'll be punished! Kicked out of the castle! You—" Her pillow got snatched away. "Argh! Mala!" She immediately replaced it with another one of her countless pillows, clutching it tightly.
"I know that you don't mean that."
Curse you! Malty thought. Fuck this! Not being feared anymore sucks so hard! I want my old life back! "Leave me alone! You're not my mother!"
"Well, someone has to be. It's not like your mother could actually be bothered to do her job."
"Mirellia isn't here."
"That's irrelevant."
Malty removed the pillow from atop her head and sat up. She rubbed her eyes, letting her sight adjust to the sunlight. She squinted at Mala, seeing that the old woman was smiling. Smirking, really. How odd.
"Well, look who's finally woken up."
"You tricked me!"
"Doesn't make my words any less true."
The corners of Malty's mouth twitched. "I'm still not getting up." She hid below her pillow again, grabbing it tightly to prevent it from being stolen. "You may leave now."
"You can't hide here forever. I'm sure your father is very worried about you."
Malty's stomach churned with guilt. "Why hasn't he visited then?"
Mala sighed. "I don't know."
"Well, he clearly doesn't want to see me. Now go."
"What do I need to do to get you to leave your bed, Your Highness?"
"There's nothing you can do." I fucked up everything, Malty thought. Why am I so bad at doing the right thing? She sighed into the mattress. "Can you get Rellaya for me?"
"I can't."
"You can't or you won't?"
"It doesn't matter. You should visit her if you're in need of her company."
"Just tell her that I want to see her."
Mala sighed. "You know I already did that, Your Highness."
"Then try again and offer her more money."
"I did that as well. She's busy with family affairs."
Right, Malty thought, shivering. She shifted her body into a ball. I really need a hug right now. Why won't Rellaya visit me? She knew why, of course. After laughing like that, Rellaya didn't want to associate with her anymore. Her body got covered by the blanket.
"Please, Your Highness," Mala said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You can't just hide away forever."
"I know... but I don't know what to do. No matter what I do, I'm just going to make it worse anyway."
"Don't say that. I believe you've achieved much in the last week."
"And then I've thrown it all away by being stupid." Malty sniffed. "Go away."
Mala sighed. "Fine. But you'll leave this room tomorrow!" She drew the curtains of the bed. "I'll send someone with something to eat."
Malty didn't answer, waiting for the maid to leave. The servants knew to just place the food on her bed and not disturb her.
It was two hours after breakfast that Malty got disturbed again.
"Your Highness, you have to get up," Mala said.
Malty preemptively drew the blanket up over her head and held it close. "Didn't you say tomorrow?"
"Well, you'll want to get up now. Sir Joral has returned."
Malty frowned. "Who?"
"Your knight. And he's brought a little beast."
"What are you talking about? I don't know any such knight."
Mala sighed, and Malty had the impression that she was rolling her eyes. "I'm talking about Blue-Eyes."
"Oh! Why didn't you say so?" Malty sat up, grinning. Finally! She yanked aside the curtain, squeaking at the stinging sunlight, and shielded her eyes. "Blue-Eyes is really back?"
Mala heaved a heavy sigh. "Yes. He claims that he was on a mission for you, but I have told him to wait outside and not bring that filthy little thing inside your rooms."
"Help me get dressed, please!"
A few minutes later, Malty sat behind her desk, fully clothed. "Send them inside."
Mala left the room and reentered with Blue-Eyes, who was guiding a small, cloaked figure by the hand.
"Princess!" Blue-Eyes was grinning broadly. "I've missed your divine beauty. Why, I'm getting all warm inside being back in your magnanimous presence."
"Thank you." Malty smiled, giggling. "And spare me your ridiculous lies. What you really mean is that you missed my food and that my cozy room is making you feel warm and comfortable."
He winked. "That may be true as well."
"I see you've been successful. Well done. Show her to me."
Blue-Eyes shared a glance with Bald, then drew back the hood of the Demi girl's cloak.
Malty's smile fell off her face. "What..." She blinked. "What am I looking at?"
Blue-Eyes was chuckling nervously. "Well, you see—"
"I said, What am I looking at?!" Malty glared, and the Demi girl averted her brown eyes, cringing.
"Ahem—"
"I said raccoon. Raccoon! Not weasel! It's not that hard to differentiate. Is it? Well?!"
"Princess, if you'd let me expla—"
"Were my instructions not detailed enough? How could you mistake this little thing with my masseuse, huh?! They don't look alike in any way!" Malty breathed in and out, trying to get the irritation under control. "Well?"
"Her name is Rifana," Blue-Eyes said.
"And?"
"She's Raphtalia's friend and—"
"And that matters how?"
Bald cleared his throat. "Your Highness. Just let him explain."
"Fine. Then do explain."
"You see," Blue-Eyes said, running a hand through his hair. "It was like this: I went to the local Slave Trader, but he wasn't present, so I asked his assistant. He claimed that they had no girl with the matching description. I placed an order and continued to Idol Rabier, as you so correctly suggested, Princess. There, I found this one." He placed a hand on the Demi-girl's shoulder. "She was sick, nearly dead. And she claimed to know this Raphtalia girl, so I bought her and nursed her back to health. Isn't this what you were talking about with Father Bauley? Saving a life that you knew was in danger?" He smiled charmingly.
Malty fought hard to keep the glare on her face and the smile off. She lost. "I suppose." She sniffed. "Well done. And Raphtalia? You didn't find her?"
The servants were now regarding her oddly, and Malty realized that she'd forgotten to send them away, but she didn't really care either way. After what had happened two days ago, this should hardly make a difference.
"Yes and no," Blue-Eyes said. "I didn't personally find her. But as luck would have it, I met the Slave Trader at Rabier's estate. Beloukas, funny guy, but anyway... He claimed to remember a girl with matching descriptions and assured me that he'd bring her here directly once he found her. I'm sure she'll arrive in a day or two."
Malty breathed a sigh of relief, then she felt a pang of guilt because she was, technically, still stealing Raphtalia away from Naofumi. He'll manage somehow. Not my problem. It's too late now anyway. "Good. Well done, Blue-Eyes."
"I live to serve." He bowed and shot her a wink.
Malty giggled. She frowned down at not-Raphtalia. And what should I do with you? Having two masseuses sounded like a waste, and she had no need for any Demi other than Raphtalia. Hmm...
Mala cleared her throat. "Your Highness. It's dinner time. Would you like to join your father or should I let something bring for you?"
"I'll... I'll eat with my father. Thank you, Mala." Malty shot the woman a smile before focusing back on not-Raphtalia. "I have no use for her. Find her a place to stay and give her something to do." She sniffed. "And give her a bath and some new clothes." She stood, her thoughts already on the imminent, most-likey delicious dinner. Her stomach growled. "Maybe she can work as a kitchen aid or something."
"I'll take care of it right away, Princess."
"Good evening, father."
Aultcray, already eating, looked up. A wide smile broke out on his face, and he let his spoon fall back into his bowl, soup splashing. "Malty!" He made to stand.
"Please. Don't trouble yourself."
He didn't listen, approached, and enveloped her in a tight hug, which Malty returned immediately. Tension bled away, and she relaxed. His scent brought back memories of when she was small and unburdened by expectations and annoying siblings.
I really needed a hug, she thought, sighing. "I'm sorry, Papa."
"Don't be." He broke the hug, smiling down gently at her. "Are you okay, my sweet girl? I'm sorry I didn't find the time to check in with you. I'm very busy because of everything... but you don't need to know that. Here, have a seat."
Malty went along, smiling helplessly, even letting him push her chair in position after she seated herself.
"So," he said after taking his own seat again. "How have you been?"
"Terrible..." Malty took her spoon, filled it, but found no motivation to raise it. The soup smelled divine and looked interesting enough: a clear liquid with meat dumplings, decorated with a few leaves. She idly cleaved a dumpling in half with her spoon. "I don't know..."
"Hey." Aultcray covered one of her hands with his. "Tell me what's going on."
She just stared into her soup.
"Look at me, Malty." He was smiling gently. "Tell me that you didn't have anything to do with what happened to the poor girl."
"I didn't. And that's the problem. I didn't do anything, but now everyone thinks I did!" She let her head fall into her hands, groaning. "How did it come to this..."
"I see... So, why did you laugh? Forgive me for asking."
"I don't know," she whined. Lied. "I just... I just found it funny, I suppose. Like the universe was mocking me for my recent decisions... I was drunk. I know it's no excuse, and I know it's awful, but that's the truth."
"Okay. I'm glad you told me."
Malty shot him a sad smile. "Thank you for understanding." She focused on her soup and, after tasting the first spoonful of it, couldn't get enough and ate with gusto.
Aultcray also resumed his meal. "I still can't believe the Shield Hero did something so despicable... I mean, it was only a question of time until his true nature was revealed, but that he would violate the poor girl after she'd taken pity on him and joined his party. How evil can you be?"
Malty didn't comment.
"And you were alone with him in his room? He didn't try anything, did he?"
"He didn't. Nothing happened, Papa."
"Good. That's a relief."
She grimaced. "But perhaps he'll try to come after me. I'm afraid, Papa."
Aultcray clutched one of her hands. "Don't worry, I won't let him. I'll make sure that the Shield Hero will never come anywhere near you or Melty. You have my word. I already increased the guard patrols around your rooms."
"Thank you." Malty smiled sadly, relief battling with guilt in her stomach. I could try to convince him that it was a setup— She shook the thought off. Aside from the fact that it would be foolish to so openly support the Shield Hero, she didn't think Aultcray would ever believe her. Perhaps she'd managed to mellow his dislike for the Shield Hero since her conversion to the Four Saints Faith, but after what happened with Rino, he'd only see this as a confirmation of his believes and hold onto that. The only thing that could work would be to find the responsible people and make them confess. But that was out of the question.
Well, maybe this isn't so bad, Malty thought. At least now no one can accuse me of being a Shield Hero sympathizer. And being viewed as crazy is not a bad thing either. And it's not like Naofumi will actually do something to me. He isn't a murderer. I'm safe in the castle.
"About the girl, though..." Malty said. "Rino. What happened to her? Do you know something?"
"I believe she decided to stay in the Spear Hero's party. I dare say she's in good company with those other two lovely girls. Isn't one of them your friend? The one with the pink hair?"
"Lesty, yes. Well, she's..." A minion. "My friend, I guess. But I haven't spoken to her in a while."
"I see. Why do you ask about her? Rino, I mean."
"I think I should apologize to her. Make sure she knows that I'm sorry."
"I think that's a good idea. Mature, just like I've come to expect from you."
Malty smiled sadly.
"I'll send someone to summon her to the castle. Tomorrow is fine with you?"
"About that... Why don't you invite the Spear Hero and his party for dinner? I wouldn't want Rino to feel like she's being singled out. It's better if she believes this isn't about her."
"How very wise of you." Aultcray smiled proudly. "I shall do that."
"Thank you, Papa. And thank you for understanding."
"Always, my sweet girl."
Malty managed to reduce her drinking to a minimum the next day and entered the dining hall with a clear mind and only a single glass of Seaetto wine residing in her stomach.
As planned, Motoyasu and the girls were already there. Malty went straight for her father at the head of the table and gave him a brief hug in greeting, ignoring the guests for now. Rino sat in-between Elena and Lesty. Malty took her spot on the other side of the table—on the seat next to Motoyasu, opposite Rino—and waited for the servants to fill her plate.
No one spoke. Malty was surprised Motoyasu wasn't trying to flirt with her. In fact, he seemed to almost try to distance himself, watching her warily out of the corner of his eyes. Aultcray saved the awkwardness by asking the Spear Hero about his adventures so far, getting the conversation back on track.
I wish I could just leave, Malty thought as she devoured her food: some delicious meatballs with mixed baked vegetables. Rino ate slowly and stone-faced, eyes hidden by her witch's hat. Motoyasu laughed, the sound so different from how she remembered: forced.
Malty cleared her throat. "Rino. How are you feeling?" She heard the thumping of her heartbeat in the silence that followed. The look in Lesty's eyes seemed to suggest: Are you stupid? "Well, I just wanted to apologize for—"
"Don't," Rino said, her focus on her plate. "I'm not interested in your lies."
Malty gasped in surprise. Lesty looked suspiciously guilty, though she tried to hide it. What did you tell her, you little traitor? Malty thought, squinting at the girl. "Lies? I'm not lying."
"You aren't?" Rino asked. "So it's not true how you've been bribing all the people you've hurt?" She looked up, dark-green eyes filled with resentment. "You don't seem very remorseful to me. Does it turn you on? Do you get off on seeing the suffering you caused while pretending you're sorry? That's what this is about, isn't it? I'm just here to—"
Aultcray banged a fist on the table, rattling the cutlery. "That's quite enough! I am deeply sorry for what happened to you, Rino, but I won't allow you to insult my daughter like that at my very own table!"
Rino didn't look intimidated, glaring back at him.
"Papa." Malty held up a hand. "It's okay." She faced Rino, raising an eyebrow. "So you think I'm lying? That it's all just a scheme? Go on, say what you have to say."
"I think we all knew the truth when you laughed at my misery."
Malty nodded. "Fair enough. The truth is that I was drunk. So I laughed. Simple as that. Not because of you. Just...the irony of the whole situation. I know it's not funny, and I'm very sorry about it all, but—"
"I told you: I don't care for your lies," Rino spat, glaring. "Like you didn't enjoy what happened to me!"
"I didn't! What are you talking about?"
"I'm not an idiot, you know. When I was with Nao— the Shield Hero, he wouldn't shut up about you." She blinked back tears, and Lesty put an arm on her back, rubbing gently. "And I know that you were in his room after the summoning. Am I wrong?"
"You're not. But I don't see what this has to do—"
"Don't act like you don't know!" Rino shouted. "You're sick! You put him up to it, didn't you?! Or... or maybe you were jealous and got someone else to— to do it! I know you did! Admit it! You—"
"Enough!" Aultcray roared. "I warned you to—"
"Papa! Don't!" Malty stared him down, then focused back on Rino. "What you're saying is ridiculous. Do you actually believe that?"
Rino had put her hands in front of her eyes, weeping. "I don't know!" she sobbed. "I just... I don't know what else to think! He... he was so nice! Y-you know?" She shook her head, wiping away tears. Lesty fully hugged her, giving Malty the evil eye, and Elena was also trying to get Rino to calm down, a hand on her shoulder.
It's not my fault, Malty thought as she met Lesty's gaze.
"Naofu— The Shield Hero. He was open and f-friendly... I still can't believe he... he actually did it. P-perhaps it was someone else. I don't know. I'm so confused and s-scared..."
"What do you mean?" Malty asked. "You don't know it was him?"
Rino sniveled, catching her breath. "I-I didn't see anything. And... maybe his voice was a little different. But it's all blurry. I don't know..."
"Then why didn't you say anything at the trial!" Malty snapped, abruptly standing up and nearly knocking her chair over. Everyone looked at her incredulously. "Ahem, I..." She sat down again. "I mean... Sorry..."
"I never claimed it was him," Rino said quietly. "I told you I didn't see anything. I said the exact same thing at the trial."
"Oh..." Malty swallowed. "Well, either way, I didn't have anything to do with it. Okay? Please believe me."
Rino looked at her with distrust in her bleary eyes.
"I swear it on my family and the Saints." Malty clutched her cross pendant. "I didn't do anything, and I'm sorry that I laughed. I can say it under Slave Curse if that's what it takes for you to believe me."
"Okay." Rino nodded. "I'd like that."
Huh?! Malty thought, a moment of panic shooting through her. "You... want me to say it under Slave Curse? Are you sure, yes?"
"Yes."
"Malty..." Aultcray said.
"It's okay, Papa. I'll do it." Malty thought it over for a moment. Perhaps this can be an opportunity to further my reputation. If I sincerely apologize to her in public, it'd give my previous apologies more validity. If Rino has doubt about my sincerity, there must be others. Yes, this is good. I can use this. "Let's do it in the throne room. Unless... you'd rather do it in private?"
"Throne room is fine," Rino said, looking back critically, as if searching for any lie or deception—or fear, perhaps. "I insist."
Malty smiled gently. "Okay. Let's go." She squeaked as Motoyasu suddenly stood up—his chair scraping across the floor—and stretched with a loud sigh. She'd completely forgotten he was even there. I can't remember the last time he's managed to keep his mouth shut for that long...
The brush darted across her wonderful skin, burning it. If this leaves any marks, Malty thought, fighting to keep the grimacing to a minimum, I'll be fucking pissed. Her symbol changed into that of the slave seal, and Rino and Aultcray's names appeared in her status magic. The priests retreated. Malty put her cross pendant back around her neck. It sat right atop the slave seal, as if trying to dispel it.
"This isn't an official trial," Aultcray announced, sitting on his throne, "but I'll call to order nonetheless. Thank you for coming everyone. This shouldn't take long. Please stay quiet."
A surprising number of people had gathered in the throne room, despite it being quite late. Malty thought to even see someone in the crowd who was recording the happenings with a crystal ball. It was hard to tell, with the sun nearly set and only torches lighting the tall room.
Her heart beat a little faster. Too late to back out now.
"Malty, you'll only answer my or Rino's questions."
"Yes, father." She clasped her hands atop her legs, sitting properly and with decorum and confidence on her chair. Very uncomfortable chair... It didn't even have armrests.
"If you will. Rino, go ahead."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Rino stared down Malty, sitting opposite her on her own uncomfortable chair. She seemed surprisingly composed—perhaps because she'd discarded her witch's hat. Elena and Lesty were standing behind her like bodyguards. "During my and the Shield Hero's trial, why did you laugh?"
Malty thought carefully, then spoke clearly, "I was drunk. That is the truth. And in my drunken state of mind, I saw something funny in the situation. I'm very sorry about that and how it must have made you feel. It was indecent and insensitive. I'm sorry." She smiled faintly.
Rino nodded. "And why were you even there? With a comfortable setup and breakfast? As if you expected a spectacle? Did you know something would happen?"
"Don't answer, Malty," Aultcray ordered. "Only one question at a time, please."
"Apologies, Your Majesty," Rino said, then repeated the first question.
"I was having breakfast in the throne room that day simply because I wanted to spend some time with my father. Sometimes, I enjoy watching him perform his duty. I did that a few days before already." She shot Aultcray a brief smile, which he returned. "And no, I didn't know anything out of the ordinary would happen on that day." Though perhaps I should have. Well, I tried my best to prevent it.
"So you didn't have anything to do with..." Rino swallowed, averting her eyes for a moment. "...with what happened to me?"
"No. I—" The Slave Crest flashed, and Malty grunted in pain, gritting her teeth. Fuck! she thought, heart racing. What do I do? What do I do?
Murmuring sounded from everywhere. Rino had a grim expression on her face.
"I... I mean," Malty said. "That's a bit of a vague question, isn't it?" She chuckled—a little hysterically. "Did I have anything to do with it? Maybe. I don't know. Who didn't? I've been thinking about it quite a bit, you know? Countless times these past days, I asked myself: 'Couldn't I have done something to prevent this? Is it my fault? Why did it happen like that?' But I don't have the answer. Maybe something I did or didn't do accidentally influenced what happened. I can't know that for sure. No one can, I'd say."
Malty swallowed, staring into Rino's eyes. "But I'll say this: I had no active part whatsoever in what happened to you that night. I didn't know it would happen. I mean, I didn't even know you had joined the Shield Hero's party! The day after the summoning, I stayed in my room the whole day. And when I was in the throne room the next day, I was shocked and deeply troubled when I noticed that a trial was being set up. That's why I drank a bit too much..."
A collective sigh of relief seemed to run through the throne room when the slave seal remained inactive.
Phew, Malty thought. That was close.
"So you didn't put the Shield Hero up to it?" Rino asked.
"Of course not!"
"Then what were you doing in his room on the day of the Hero Summoning?"
Malty took a deep breath before answering. "Well, it's a bit embarrassing. But..." She chuckled. "I was drunk. And... I thought he looked kind of cute." She shrugged, adopting a guilty but helpless expression. "So I paid him a visit. And yes"—she rolled her eyes—"I kissed him. It was one-sided and initiated on my part. Somehow, my drunken mind thought it was hilarious. The whole thing was just silly, to be honest. I had a little laugh at his expenses. I told him to take care, and that was it." She smiled when she heard a few chuckles from the crowd. Brilliant, Malty. Brilliant.
"I... see... So you really didn't do anything..." Rino looked torn in-between relief and dismay. Lesty touched her shoulder and leaned down to whisper something. Rino stood and slowly approached Malty. "I'm sorry for accusing you."
Malty stood. "It's okay. And again, I'm very sorry for laughing like that."
"I accept your apology, Your Highness."
They shared a faint smile. Malty took careful steps toward the other girl. Rino didn't object and let Malty draw her into a hug, even returning it. Rino's head resting on her chest, Malty gently combed through her hair. So soft... "If you ever need anything," she whispered, "you can always come to me. I'll take care of you."
"Hmm-hm." Rino nodded faintly.
Malty discretely looked around the room. People seemed enamored with her display of kindness. She fought hard to keep a gentle yet sad smile on her face and not let her smirk show. That's right. Look how kind and magnanimous I am. Who would ever hurt this true, innocent soul? She giggled internally. Good job, Malty.
Rino retreated. She looked at Malty's chest and reached out with a hand to gently lift the cross pendant, and Malty realized that there was a faint imprint on Rino's left cheek where it'd pressed against the pendant during the hug.
Rino raised an eyebrow. "After what happened, how can you still believe in this?"
Malty bit back an annoyed sigh and looked toward her father. "Do I have to answer that?"
"Well." Aultcray looked around the throne room and cleared his throat. "I think we'd all be curious."
"Fine." Malty returned to her interrogation chair and sat down, using deliberate and slow movements while she desperately thought about how best to answer. She looked around the room, observing the spectators. Most if not all of them were members of the Three Heroes Church and probably eager for her explanation.
Malty cleared her throat. "So you want to know if what happened has changed my view of the Four Saints Faith? Well, that's not difficult to answer: It didn't."
As expected, people weren't happy with her answer, and Aultcray had to call for order when someone shouted something rude about her being a supporter of rape and the Shield Hero.
"Malty..." Aultcray said. "Would you like to elaborate on that answer?"
"Gladly, father." She smiled sweetly. "Please don't think I support what happened in any way. I think it's despicable and a tragedy, and I condemn the actions of the culprit. That said, it hasn't shaken my belief in the Four Saints Faith in any way. And why should it? Why should the actions of one man influence what I believe in?"
No one really seemed convinced.
"Well, let's put it like this. There are quite a few rapists in the world. It's sad and despicable, but it's a fact. Does anyone disagree?" No one did. "And those men are from various professions. Let's say there's a blacksmith who happens to be a rapist. Does that mean I have to condemn all blacksmiths now because of this one person? Of course not. And the same goes for the Four Saints Faith. Just because one Hero misbehaves doesn't invalidate this belief. I'm sure any of the other Heroes made mistakes in the past as well. Or do you claim them to be infallible? No one is."
Malty was very glad that no one spoke up. "And that aside, the Four Saints Faith is about much more than just the Heroes. It is about a way of life. I know many of you probably share the dislike for Demi-humans and Beast-men. And for good reason. There was a war not so long ago, after all, and they slaughtered many of us. We did the same to them, of course. But is that really how things should continue? Can we afford to hold onto our grudges when the fate of the world is in balance? When the Waves are coming, threatening to end us all?"
Malty stood up from her chair. "Are Demi-humans and Beast-men really that bad? What does an extra pair of ears or a tail or some fur make for a difference? Does it make them into monsters? I don't think so. I'll tell you about monsters: they come with the Waves, and they are merciless. Gruesome beasts that strike terror in every heart. Gigantic monstrosities that will tear your limps off and swallow your children whole. They are the real enemy. And anyone who wishes to join me in the fight against them is a friend in my eyes."
Malty took a deep breath. What the fuck am I saying? she thought in mild horror, stunned silence around her. Time to end this. "The fight against the Waves should be our utmost priority. That is what my decision to convert is all about: survival. We do not have time to quarrel among ourselves like little children." She faced her father and couldn't resist curtseying. "Are you satisfied with my answer, Your Majesty? I'm exhausted and would like to retire..."
Aultcray needed a moment to close his mouth and right himself. "Ahem. Yes, of course." He gestured for the priests. "Remove the Slave Crest."
Malty breathed a sigh of relief, letting tension leave her body as the cursed ink got washed off. She shot Rino and the two other girls a last forced smile, then left the throne room in deliberate steps even though she wanted to hurry. Well, she thought as she passed a knight holding a still-recording crystal ball. Let's hope Naofumi sees this and I can finally have my peace. Now everyone can leave me the fuck alone.
Malty is certainly cursing a lot. :D
Unwanted Attention and Schemes
Damn, missed my posting day. :O Well, there's a first time for every story.
Malty awoke with a smile and the knowledge that she now finally had her peace. Even Naofumi would have no reason to hold his grudge against her once he saw the recordings of yesterday's events that would, undoubtedly, already be spread throughout the city.
She chimed her bell and got out of bed. As she enjoyed a bath and let her servants—who were, for the most part, regarding her with adoration and respect, even awe—spoil her, she once again congratulated herself for handling the trial situation perfectly. Yes, you're a true genius, Malty S Melromarc.
Still, thoughts of that inevitably made her think of her father. It had all ended well, but she couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. He really shouldn't have allowed things to happen like that.
I don't think I'll join him for dinner today, Malty decided and let her servants set up breakfast in her living room. The food and wine was a good distraction, and when Bald and Blue-Eyes arrived a moment later, she got thoroughly absorbed by their silliness.
They played some Rock Paper Scissors, then transitioned onto her settees for chess. Blue-Eyes wasn't very good at the game, she discovered.
"I've done as ordered and found a place for Rifana," he reported after losing once again, smiling despite the crushing defeat. "One of the Demi girls in the kitchen was happy to take her under her wing."
"Good good. Any news of Raphtalia yet?"
"I'm afraid not. But she should arrive in a day or two."
That was unfortunate. If her arrival delayed any longer, Malty might just get this Rifana girl as her new masseuse.
Bald and Blue-Eyes left during mid-day to have something to eat with the other knights. Malty, having snacked a little too much food before, used the opportunity to have a full-body massage, perhaps followed by a little nap.
It was as she laid there on her lounger, body bare, her masseuse kneading her upper back wonderfully despite her too-large hands, that a knock sounded at the door. Malty didn't move from her comfortable position and sent Mala to handle it.
Hushed voices sounded from the direction of the door. Eventually, Mala returned. "Your Highness, some knights would like a word with you."
"What do they want?" Malty asked, voice muffled from talking into her pillows.
"It's best if they tell you themselves. You should get dressed, Your Highness."
"I don't wanna," Malty mumbled. "Hey! Don't stop massaging."
"Apologies, Your Highness."
"You can send them in, Mala."
"It's not decent," Mala insisted. "You really should—"
"It's not decent to disturb my massage. You see me naked all the time; it hardly makes a difference. Now send them in already."
Mala sighed. "One of them is"—she lowered her voice—"the vice-captain of the castle knights. You really ought to dress for this."
"Mala... this could be the Pig King and I wouldn't move. They can either fucking come in now, or they can leave."
"Fine." Mala huffed and retreated.
Malty withheld the giggle that wanted to burst forth from her mouth. While it was endearing, she also couldn't help but relish Mala's frustration at her failed mothering efforts. No one had ever said that Malty was an easy child.
The double door to her room creaked open, then armored footsteps drew closer from her left. Three knights, from the sound of it. They fell to their knees and stayed that way. Her lounger stood parallel to the entrance, so they now had a good view of her naked side profile.
"Your Highness."
Malty hummed in greeting. She reached on her back with a hand, grasped the masseuse's hands, and moved them lower. For some reason, the woman had remained massaging that one spot for way too long.
"A-apologies, Your Highness," the masseuse stammered and resumed with renewed effort and attention.
"So," Malty spoke into her pillows. "Who disturbs me on this fine day?" She sighed as wonderful thumbs dug into her skin at the height of her loin.
"Vice-captain Dante, Your Highness. With me are Sir Hammod and my squire, Ake."
Though she should have, Malty couldn't put faces to any of the names. She waited for him to continue, but apparently, they were expecting a response. With a sigh, she eventually asked, "And what can I do for you, vice-captain Dante?"
"Your Highness, we're here to join up with you."
What brought this on? Malty thought, though she had a suspicion. An uncomfortable feeling churned in her stomach. "Thank you, but I'm not recruiting. I'm fully staffed, you see."
Her masseuse was now kneading Malty's thighs, working her way down her legs, then up again.
"But Your Highness," another said, probably Sir Hammod. "Surely you can't have too many soldiers when it comes to the fight against the Waves."
Malty released a groan. "I think you should leave. I'm not looking for recruits."
"Please hear us out first, Your Highness," vice-captain Dante said. "We've been at the hearing yesterday, and your words have left us awed and inspired. We'd be honored if we were allowed to join in your fight against the Waves."
Why is this happening? Malty thought, and she released another, louder groan. "I said what I had to say because of the Slave Curse. There is no fight against the Waves as you say it. If you want to help defeat the Waves, then I applaud you, but please leave me out of it."
"But... but Princess!" a new voice said. It sounded younger, probably that squire whose name she'd already forgotten. Kai, perhaps? "We want to join you, not anyone else. You seem to know what you're talking about! We saw that look in your eyes, and we'd like to follow you! Please! We'd even convert to the Four Saints Faith if that's—"
"Ake!" vice-captain Dante snapped. "That's enough."
At the same time, Malty had abruptly lifted her head, heart suddenly hammering in her chest. "Did you just... did you just say that you'd convert...because of me?"
"Yes!"
"Don't listen to my foolish squire, Your Highness," vice-captain Dante said, voice firm but composed. "We only wish to fight for what is right. And after your words yesterday, we were hoping you'd do us the honor of leading us."
Leading you? Malty thought incredulously. She studied their kneeling forms, trying to contain her panic. The vice-captain was a handsome man around Blue-Eyes's age. He was calm and exuded competence and authority, a horizontal scar crossing his nose. The squire Ake was younger than her, and he had an obvious blush on his face, averting his eyes when she looked at him. Sir Hammod seemed in-between them, age-wise, and had short-cropped orange hair.
"Let me tell you something." Malty repositioned her pillows so that she could rest her head comfortably while watching her guests. "Whatever you think I meant yesterday, you're wrong. I said what I needed to say so that everyone would finally leave me alone and stop questioning my religious choices. You will not join me, and you will not convert because of me. Whatever you want to do with your lives, I don't care. But leave me out of it!"
"Forgive me, Your Highness," vice-captain Dante said. "But I'll have to call you a liar." Some of her servants gasped. "I believe that you do care and that your speech was heartfelt. Your outlook on things is very admirable. And we'd be honored to pledge our allegiance to you."
Malty gritted her teeth. Her masseuse had halted a while ago, frozen. Incompetence everywhere, she thought, then abruptly sat up and fully faced her visitors, placing a pillow in-between her legs to hide her royal pussy.
Ake squeaked and slapped a hand in front of his eyes, blush deepening. Sir Hammod lowered his head, cheeks assuming a similar color to his hair. Vice-captain Dante didn't even flinch.
Malty stared him down. Unbothered by her nakedness, she reached for her glass on the wine table, brought it to her lips, and drank leisurely. Her irritation spiked when he didn't look away for even a second or so much as glimpsed toward her breasts.
She stopped when her glass was half-empty; drinking so fast was a waste and a crime.
"I'm really not sure what your problem is," Malty said, swirling her wine. "But you must be insane if you want me to lead you. Really, me? Leading? Laughable!" She gestured toward her exposed chest. "Look at this. Look at me. Drunk at noon. Lazing about while other people work their ass off. Indulging in excess while others hunger. You really think I care? You really think I would or could lead anyone?"
Sir Hammod and squire Ake seemed to finally get it, deflating, the latter cringing.
"I do," vice-captain Dante said, face dead serious. "If anything, your insistence to reject our offer only confirms my assumptions about you, Your Highness. The Waves are happening. Change is coming, and I believe this is an opportunity to—
Malty threw her wine glass at him. Regrettably, it landed an arm-length away from his kneeling form, shattering on the stone, the last drops of wine splashing against his armored legs. "Get out," she ordered, then she pointed and shrieked, "Get out! Now! I don't want to hear another word out of your lying mouth! And if you ever show your damned faces in my rooms again to molest me like this, rest assured that my father will hear about it!"
Puffing, Malty glared after them as they stumbled hastily to their feet and made toward the door, some with more urgency than others. Vice-captain Dante, the last to exit, paused on the threshold and shot her a last judgemental—no, disappointed—look, then closed the door, leaving a dead-silent room behind.
Who does he think he is! she fumed, massaging her throbbing head. That bastard! Does he want to get me killed?! She took a few more moments to bring her anger under control, then reached toward her wine table. She hastily grabbed a new glass, filled it with Seaetto wine, and took a large gulp.
Her hammering heart slowed. Malty closed her eyes and let out a long, suffering sigh. Something smooth settled across her shoulders, and she blinked at Mala, who was wrapping her in a blanket. "Thanks."
The door opened, and Blue-Eyes and Bald strolled in.
"What did we miss?" Blue-Eyes asked, letting his gaze swipe across the room.
"Nothing!" Malty snapped and took another gulp of wine.
"We definitely missed something," Blue-Eyes lamented.
"Quite right," Bald said, almost pouting. "Quite right..."
"Your Highness," Mala said softly. "Let's get you dressed."
"Yes, please."
After a quick bath, clad in a new set of clothes, and the evidence of her outburst cleared away, Malty could finally think clearly again.
I definitely overreacted there, she thought, sitting with Bald and Blue-Eyes on her settees, trashing them at chess. But the nerve of that knight! Doesn't he realize how it would look if I suddenly started gathering troops? The absolute last thing she needed was for Mother or the Church to think she was planning something big.
It is what it is, she concluded with a sigh. I'll just have to make sure I apologize the next time I see them... She could play off the whole thing as a misunderstanding. Say that she'd been drunk and had overreacted. The usual...
There was one good thing about it, though. Judging by the knights' words and actions, she'd been very convincing and had successfully restored her reputation. Now Rellaya wouldn't have a reason to avoid her anymore.
It was with that thought and a smile on her face that Malty, after crushing Bald and Blue-Eyes a few more times, left for her lover's rooms. Alone. She even did the polite thing to knock.
"Yes?" Rellaya's voice came from within. "Who's there?"
"It's Malty."
"Come in!" Rellaya called in a welcoming voice.
Smiling, Malty did. Immense relief washed over her when Rellaya returned her smile, looking almost ecstatic about the surprise visit. She sat in front of a table covered with a multitude of colorful cloth, thread, half-finished dresses, needles, and other instruments. And she wasn't alone. Next to her sat a small girl, who looked almost like Rellaya's twin—same olive-green eyes and dirty-blonde hair secured in high pigtails which tumbled next to her ears—except for the fact that she was a brat.
Huh? Malty thought. Has she really been busy with 'family affairs'?
"Malty! How nice to see you." Rellaya stood and embraced her in a brief hug, then guided her to the table. "Please. Have a seat."
Malty did, eyes on brat-Rellaya.
Rellaya retook her own seat. "Malty, this is my little sister, Lirrellain. I've told you about her."
Malty blinked.
"Hey," Lirrelain said and waved a hand—in which she was holding needle and thread. "Are you the princess?"
"I am."
"Neat!" The brat grinned. "You can call me Lirry."
Rellaya heaved a faint sigh. "Lirrelain, why don't you go to the storage room and fetch me some more black thread, yes?"
"Okay, sister." Lirrelain put the embroidery she was working on on the table, stood, and retreated into an adjacent room.
"Malty." Rellaya smiled. "How have you been?"
"Fine. I..."
"I'm sorry I couldn't come by during the last days. I've had my hands full with my sister. She's staying here for the time being." She lowered her voice and pouted. "Sometimes, she can be a real nuisance..."
As if on cue, a small crash sounded from the next room, and Rellaya cringed. Malty snorted.
"Oops!" Lirrelain's muffled voice sounded. "Sorry!"
Rellaya sighed.
"So you," Malty said, "didn't avoid me?"
Rellaya frowned. "No. Why would I—"
Malty abruptly stood, grasped Rellaya's head with both hands, and pressed a hard kiss onto her mouth, closing her eyes. A faint moan escaped her at the familiar feeling. The frustration of the past few days bled away. She breathed in her lover's scent, ran her tongue across those wonderful full lips, and sucked, humming. Rellaya put her hands on Malty's shoulders, neither pulling nor pushing.
Malty broke the kiss and rested their foreheads together, grinning. "I missed you." She caressed Rellaya's cheek.
"Malty, you—"
A gasp sounded from their left. Lirrelain stood in the doorway of the storage room, mouth agape. She dropped the bundle of black thread she was carrying.
Rellaya pushed Malty away. "It's not what it looks like!"
Lirrelain picked up the black thread, then grinned at them. "Looks like you're in love with the princess~"
"I'm not! Come here!"
Lirrelain did so with a spring in her step. She placed the black thread on the table and took her seat, grinning all the while. "Rellaya likes girls~" she sang, then giggled. "Wait till Mother returns and I tell her about this. She'll flip!"
"You will do no such thing," Rellaya snapped and put a hand on her sister's shoulder, none too gently, from the looks of it. "You will never say a word of what you just saw—to anyone—or God help me, I will make your life a living hell."
"S-sister?" Uncertainty and tears crept into Lirrelain's eyes.
"You won't tell anyone. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"Good." Rellaya shifted her hand onto her sister's head and ruffled her hair. "Now clear up whatever mess you just made in my storage room. I need to have a private word with the princess."
Nodding, Lirrelain obeyed.
"Sorry about that," Rellaya said the moment they were alone.
Malty nodded, still standing awkwardly. She made to draw in Rellaya for another kiss, but Rellaya caught her by the wrists, halting her.
"And Malty?"
"Yes?"
"I don't think I'll join you in your private chambers again."
"What?" Malty gasped, and a pang of betrayal and hurt shot through her. "Why?"
"Because..." With a sigh, Rellaya pushed Malty away. "You are breaking your own rules."
Malty frowned.
"You're getting attached, don't you?"
"That's not... I thought you..." Gasping for breath, Malty tried to keep the coldness and hurt at bay. "Why now? I need you... Rellaya..." She reached out again.
Rellaya swallowed and warded her hands off. "Malty, I'm sorry, but I can't give you what you want."
Sadness shifted into anger. She glared. "Didn't look like that to me! Are you playing games with me?! Is this you trying to get more money out of—"
Rellaya grasped her hand and squeezed. "Malty, please. Calm down." She stared intently. "I'm saying this as your friend. Because that's what we are, right, Malty? Friends. We need to end things now or it'll only hurt more."
Malty glared. She gritted her teeth, fighting with the urge to lash out at the other woman. To scream and rage. To slap her. That bitch! How dare she break up with me! After all the money I threw at her! After I spared her when she tried to con me! Who does she think she is?! She breathed in and out. In and out. Stared into Rellaya's eyes, which were filled with remorse and hope. Finally, the anger left her, and she deflated.
"Okay," Malty said, eyes on Lirrelain's discarded embroidery. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just thought... I'll..." She shook off Rellaya's hand and stood. "I'll go. Sorry for bothering—"
"Don't! Please, stay." Rellaya caught her, and when Malty halted and turned, she drew her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Malty. If you really want, we can continue like before. It's not that I'm suddenly averse to it or that I don't appreciate the money. But you're my friend. And as your friend, I have to do this. Do you really want to cling to someone who'll never truly love you back? I don't think you do. You deserve someone better. Okay, Malty?"
Malty blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay. This sucks, she thought. Why can't I have one good thing? Why am I always the one fucking things up? Awkwardly hanging in Rellaya's embrace, she repeated Rellaya's words in her mind and desperately tried to make sense of her feelings.
Eventually, Malty returned the hug and relaxed. "You're right. It's better if we stop things now. I'm sorry. I nearly lost my temper there..."
Rellaya sagged in relief. "So we're still friends?"
"Of course."
They broke the hug, shared a smile, and resumed their spots around the table. Lirrilain joined them a moment later.
Malty ended up staying for some time. It'd been a while since she'd done some embroidering, but she found that it wasn't as bad as she remembered when you had someone to talk to nearby who wasn't a maid or an annoying brat. Rellaya showed her the experimental dress she'd been working on. It wasn't complete yet and didn't look like much of anything to her, but Malty assured her that she'd keep sponsoring her to work on it.
They bid each other goodbye when evening neared, promised that they'd meet up for tea sometimes—or wine, Malty thought—then she left. In a somewhat good mood, she decided to join her father for dinner anyway.
"Malty," Aultcray greeted her when she entered the dining hall. Servants were in the process of serving—seafood, judging by the smell. "It's good to see you."
"Good evening, Father." She took her usual place and proceeded to keep her focus on her meal: some fried fish accompanied by a vegetable salad. It was delicious.
An awkward silence settled over them.
"Malty—"
"Wanna play chess?"
"Of course."
They played in silence. Malty kept her eyes on the board. She lost.
"You're mad at me," Aultcray stated.
Malty hummed and reset the board.
"I know I shouldn't have made you answer that question yesterday. I'm sorry about that."
"That's not what I'm upset about. Not entirely, at least."
"It isn't? What else have I done to anger you?"
"I..." Malty scowled at the board. She was losing, once again. Maybe the fact that, aside from putting me on the spot like that, you seemed genuinely curious about what my answer would be, even though I've told you my reasons to convert repeatedly. Did you even listen? Did you think I was lying? Don't you care? "I don't know."
"Well." Aultcray sighed. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry."
"Let's talk about something else."
"Sure—"
"The Shield Hero."
His expression darkened. "What about him?"
"How's he doing?" Malty stared at her father, watching his reaction. "I know you have people keeping track of him."
"Well, he's still residing on the Balloon Meadows. Apparently, he has trouble dealing even with the weakest of monsters." Aultcray chuckled, almost gleefully. "He's been sleeping outside in the cold, as far as I'm aware."
Malty frowned. "So you're...not going to help him?"
"Help him? That scum doesn't deserve any help! Let him know suffering first-hand, I say."
"But what about the Waves? We're going to need his help, Father."
"Bah! What good is he when he can't even deal with pathetic Balloons?"
Malty sighed. "Papa, you know that the Shield Hero isn't meant to attack. Of course, he's struggling without any companions."
"Malty, why are you so insistent about this?"
"Didn't you listen to anything I said yesterday?"
"I did listen. And I would have tolerated the Shield Devil, even supported him. But after what he did..." Aultcray shook his head, expression grim. "We're going to be fine without scum like him. Have faith in the other Heroes."
She forced a smile. "You're right, Father. I'm sorry I brought it up."
"Ah. Since we're on the topic, I've received some troubling reports. Apparently, people are showing around manipulated recordings of your speech yesterday."
Of course... Malty wasn't sure why she was surprised to hear that.
"Some radical faction of the Church seems to be responsible. But don't worry, I've already spoken with Biscas, and he has assured me that he's doing everything in his power to find and stop the responsible people."
"I see." Malty released a long, suffering sigh. Oh, how naive I've been, she thought. To think my troubles would solve themselves so easily. No, even were Naofumi not camping outside the city, he would see any recordings as false and fabricated and hate me still.
"You seem doubtful."
For a moment, Malty was overcome with the urge to cuss that lying High Priest to Hell and back, but then she remembered herself. "It's nothing. I'm sure everything will turn out alright."
He grunted.
"Thanks for the talk, Father. I think I'll retire now. Have a good night."
"Sleep well, my dear daughter."
"You're all dismissed for the night," Malty announced, back in her room. "Except Bald and Blue-Eyes."
Her servants shuffled out of the room.
Blue-Eyes grinned. "Another mission?"
"No. Well, you'll see. Go and get the Demi girl for me."
"Rifana?"
"Yes. Do you know any other Demi girls?"
Blue-Eyes awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right away."
"Bald, you go stand guard outside my rooms. Send any other guards away."
"Yes, Your Highness."
They shot into motion. A few minutes later, Blue-Eyes reentered, guiding Rifana with a hand against her back. They stepped up in front of her desk.
"Bald is outside?"
"He is."
"Good." Malty crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair, and stared down at not-Raphtalia. She looked better now. Her hair was washed and combed, her face clean, and she'd been clad in a servant's uniform. A bonnet was hiding her Demi-ears, a skirt her tail. She kept her eyes lowered, hands clasped in front of her. Malty appreciated the good behavior. It made her look less bratty...and kind of cute.
Now how do I do this? Malty thought, absentmindedly playing with her Four Saints Faith pendant. Lie-detecting Slave Seals are such a bother...
"Rifana," she eventually said, smiling sweetly. The girl looked up and hesitantly returned the smile. "Are you hungry?"
Rifana seemed taken aback by the question. Her eyes briefly flickered upward, then lowered again. After a moment, she nodded shyly.
Malty stood, stepped around her desk, and grasped Rifana by the hand, then led her over toward her settees. They sat down, and Blue-Eyes took a seat on the opposite settee. The last sunlight streaming in from the side reflected off his armor. "Here." Malty grasped a plate filled with cookies from her snack-table and placed it in front of Rifana. "Have some."
"F-for me?"
"Yes. Eat as many as you like."
Hesitantly, Rifana reached for a cookie, looking at Malty all the while. Did she think it was a trick? Malty made sure to smile encouragingly. Rifana finally took a cookie and munched on it, then went for the next, less hesitant.
"How are you liking your stay at the castle so far?"
"It's...nice?" Rifana swallowed and licked her lips. "The other servants are very kind. I can't complain."
"But?"
Rifana lowered her eyes. "I miss my friends." She nibbled on another cookie. "Will Raphtalia arrive soon?"
Malty hummed. "Yes, she will." Smiling gently, she watched the Demi girl devour some more of her cookies.
Rifana's tail was swishing back and forth on the settee, the tip sometimes poking out from underneath her skirt.
"Rifana... do you mind if I touch your ears?"
She shot Malty a frown. "My... ears?"
"Yes, I've never actually...touched a Demi before. It's okay if you don't want to."
"Okay." Rifana discarded her bonnet, set it down beside her, and grasped the next cookie to munch on.
Malty hesitantly reached out with a hand. She was excited, appalled, and apprehensive in equal measures. Those furry ears twitched, and Malty started, a little squeak escaping her. Blue-Eyes chuckled. She shot him a glare, then actually placed a hand on Rifana's head and touched her weasel ears. Surprisingly, she wasn't overcome with revulsion. And neither did the world end.
So soft, Malty thought and gently traced them, caressing the Demi-girl's hair in the process. Running her hands along the ears so that they slid in-between her fingers was especially satisfying. Almost orgasmic.
Rifana giggled.
"Is it okay? Tell me if I should stop."
"It's fine. Feels good."
Malty hummed and kept playing with those unbelievably soft weasel ears. "Tell me Rifana, what do you think of the Shield Hero?"
Rifana chewed for a few more seconds, then swallowed. "The Shield Hero? I heard he's been summoned? Is that true? Oh, sorry." She lowered her head, and Malty chuckled, caressing. "I've never met him, if that's what you're asking." After a moment, she continued more quietly. "When I was younger, I used to fantasize about marrying the Shield Hero one day. But I'm not so sure about that anymore..."
"Why not?"
Rifana seemed frozen for a moment, staring off into space.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded faintly. "I just... it's silly."
"Tell me."
"When I was in that dungeon, I prayed...every day...that the Shield Hero would rescue me. But he didn't." She looked up, a stray tear running down her cheek. "You did."
Chest constricted, Malty couldn't breathe for a moment as she absorbed the immense gratitude shimmering in those eyes. "I..." She swallowed. "I see. What if I told you that there's a good reason for why the Shield Hero didn't rescue you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You see... there was an incident a while back, and now the Shield Hero isn't in a good place. You could go so far as to say that he's in trouble."
"What happened?"
"He got set up by some bad people. And now everyone thinks that he's a criminal. He's all by himself with no one to help him. And the Shield Hero is powerless if he doesn't have people he can trust with him."
"Oh no..."
Malty hummed sadly. "Yes... that's where you come into play."
"Me?"
"Yes. I'd try to help him myself, but sadly, my hands are bound. Things would get a lot worse if people knew I was trying to help him. As I said, everyone thinks he's a criminal. And the worst part is that he probably thinks I'm responsible for his misfortune."
Rifana gasped. She'd completely stilled, hanging on Malty's every word. "But... but you're not, right?"
"No, I had nothing to do with it." This time. "But he thinks I did. So if he knew I was trying to help, he'd think it a trick. That's why I need you to help him."
"M-me? Are you sure? I mean..."
"Yes, you, Rifana. Do you think you can do it?"
"But I don't even know what to do!"
"That's simple. You'll join the Shield Hero and adventure together with him."
"Really? That sounds..."
"Exciting? Scary?"
Rifana nodded.
"I understand if you're afraid. I'm sure I could find someone else to—"
"No! I'll do it! I can do it!"
"Great!" Malty ruffled her hair, and Rifana giggled. "Okay. Remember what I said about him thinking I was responsible for his misfortune?"
"The Shield Hero?"
"Yes."
Rifana nodded.
"Well, because of that, you'll have to be careful. Do not—under any circumstances—mention that I sent you, okay? Better don't mention me at all. If he found out about my involvement, he'd probably reject your help...or worse."
Rifana swallowed. "I understand. But... are you sure he won't reconsider? You're so nice..."
Malty smiled, caressing the weasel ears. "It's better if you don't. The Shield Hero— Naofumi, that's his name. He's probably very distrustful and wary at the moment. So you can't just walk up to him and offer your help; he'd get suspicious. We'll have to use a bit of a charade. And this involves you becoming a slave again. Do you think you can do that?"
Rifana sucked in a breath, shivering. After a few moments, she nodded.
"Good. Blue-Eyes will bring you to the Slave Trader here in Castle Town. And—"
"Don't worry, Rifana," Blue-Eyes said. "I'll make sure you're treated well there."
Rifana shot him a grin.
"Yes," Malty said. "Blue-Eyes will make sure of that. Then he'll instruct the Slave Trader to reach out to the Shield Hero, Naofumi. When he shows up, The Slave Trader will make sure that Naofumi buys you. And if the plan fails, then Blue-Eyes will bring you back to the castle. Does that make sense?"
"I... think so."
"Are you still sure you can do it?"
Rifana gave a determined nod. "If the Shield Hero is in trouble, then I have to do my best to help him."
"Great." Thank you Saints for such naive and devoted people, Malty thought. Sure, she could have just tasked the Slave Trader with providing some random companion for Naofumi, but having her own personal spy in his party sounded a lot better. Let's just hope that this doesn't come back to bite me. A risk worth taking for getting Naofumi off my back. I've made the mistake of underestimating him the last time. I won't do it again. "And remember. Don't mention that I sent you. Don't even mention you ever met me. You're just a normal slave who hopes to join up with the Shield Hero. If Naofumi asked what happened to you, you tell him that Blue-Eyes bought you from your previous owner, nursed you back to good health, and then sold you to the Slave Trader in Castle Town. Okay?"
"I got it. I think..."
Malty bit back a sigh and, for good measure, repeated everything once again.
"I got it," Rifana repeated, sounding more assured this time.
"Excellent! And you, Blue-Eyes? Do you understand what you have to do? If you have questions or doubts, now is the time to voice them." Malty couldn't quite place his expression. She was putting a lot of trust in him and Bald but fancied that, if they weren't actually on her side, she might as well jump out of the window now.
"No questions, Princess. I'll get it done discreetly."
"Good. Now, Rifana... is there something you want to do before you leave with Blue-Eyes?"
Rifana nodded and pointed. "Can I have a piece of that chocolate tart?"
Malty giggled. "Of course. You deserve a reward for being such a good girl."
I wasn't sure whether or not I should leave off the chapter with a cliffhanger of Raphtalia arriving or not. Well, suffice to say that she'll finally appear next chapter. :3
My little Raccoon Masseuse
Terribly sorry I took so long to continue.
Look, I drew a new cover art! :D It's more of a sketch than anything while I work on the real one I have planned for this fic, but it's very fitting for this chapter. ;)
If you're interested, you can find a bigger version of the picture on my DeviantArt (SmutWithPlotFiction).
The promised day had finally come, and Malty's little raccoon masseuse arrived.
Blue-Eyes was leading her by a hand into the room, and Malty stood with an excited grin. Just yesterday, he'd reported success for her little scheme. Naofumi had bought Rifana, along with a Demi boy she apparently knew from back in her village. Things were going exactly as planned. Now it was finally time for her to reap the well-deserved rewards of her hard work.
Malty crouched down in front of the little girl and smiled. "Hello, Raphtalia."
Her only acknowledgment was a blink, red-pink eyes staring off into space.
Malty frowned. "Is she alright?" She turned to Blue-Eyes. "Did you do something to her?"
"That's how I got her. She hasn't spoken a word since."
"Hmm..." Malty grasped Raphtalia by the shoulders and shook her faintly. No reaction. Was she broken?
"Not really surprising, considering..."
Rabier. If that pig had somehow robbed Malty of her rightful triumph, she would be seriously pissed. That fat bastard was to meet his end either way, so Malty might just accelerate that a little.
She shook those thoughts off. Wayyyy too strenuous.
Mala had been right. The girl was rather filthy. Malty grimaced at how dirty she felt simply by clasping her shoulders. "Prepare a bath for us." No one moved. "Now!" A glare sent them into motion. She didn't care how odd her behavior was. That was kind of the point.
Malty went to personally strip Raphtalia out of her clothes, which were nothing but dirty rags at this point. The girl neither resisted nor assisted her, then just stood there naked, unmoving, staring with dead eyes, as Malty undressed right in front of her.
Raphtalia was so small and emaciated that Malty had no trouble at all lifting her up and climbing together into her large, golden bathtub. A gasp was all the reaction the girl gave as Malty lowered her into the hot water. Suddenly, she jerked and clutched Malty's arms as if her life depended on it. It lasted about a second, then the tension left her body, and she was back to her half-dead state.
Malty frowned at the girl, seriously worried she'd gotten damaged goods. She went to clean her.
The Princess washing a Demi-human, Malty thought. If people didn't think me insane, now they surely will. The girl was supposed to become her masseuse. Getting used to touching her seemed like a smart thing to do. And the servants had seemed rather apprehensive about it. She'd sent them all away. Only Mala had remained in the bathroom, despite Malty's wishes, keeping a close eye on them from where she stood against the wall, sometimes clicking her tongue in disapproval.
"Raphtalia? Are you there?" Malty asked, running a hand covered with a washcloth above the girl's body beneath the water. She really was deathly thin, nothing more than a skeleton with muscles and skin. That wouldn't do; Malty wouldn't be massaged by skeletal hands.
"Mala, give me a towel." She dried her hands, then took a cookie from her snack table and held it in front of Raphtalia's face. "Here, eat."
No reaction.
Malty broke the cookie in half, opened Raphtalia's mouth, and shoved the food in her mouth. "Eat!"
Finally, the girl chewed, although without much enthusiasm.
"You can have as many cookies as you want." Malty took the washcloth and continued to clean her. She gently traced the whip scars on her back, making Raphtalia flinch. Some were faintly red, still healing. "No one is going to hurt you," Malty said gently. "Okay? You're safe here."
Malty bit back a frustrated groan when the girl showed no reaction again, just staring ahead with dead eyes. Perhaps I should have taken Rifana as my masseuse, after all. But it wasn't like she could take the girl back, now that Naofumi had her. That hadn't worked out so well the last time she'd tried. Is this the universe mocking me again? Raphtalia had always seemed so strong and unyielding when Malty had faced off against her, but now, she was an empty shell. Somehow, that was probably her fault as well.
"I'm going to clean your hair now." Malty gently pushed her backward into the water and rubbed some lotion into her hair. It took her a while until she got all the dirt and knots out of those thick brunette strands, but the resulting smoothness was well worth it. She took a moment to caress the raccoon ears, relishing their softness, then pulled Raphtalia back into a seating position.
It was a good thing that Malty's bathtub was quite gigantic. Otherwise, she feared the water would have turned muddy by now. Malty went to clean the raccoon tail. She'd left that for last. "Raphtalia, talk to me."
Finally, the girl reacted. She turned her head, meeting Malty's eyes. "How do you know my name?" she asked softly.
Malty caressed her tail, staring down into pink-red eyes. The girl was practically in her lap. "I've met your friend," she said with a smile. "Rifana."
"Rifana? But she's..." Raphtalia trailed off, her eyes going distant.
"She's fine. I just talked to her a few days earlier."
Raphtalia didn't react, and Malty wanted to groan and throw her hands up in frustration. This wasn't how she'd envisioned things to go. She again tried to tell the girl that Rifana was alive and well, but her words fell on deaf ears, so she gave up for the moment.
Instead, Malty relaxed back against the rim of the bathtub, drawing Raphtalia along. Then she force-fed the girl until she was satisfied she wouldn't collapse the second they stepped out of the bathtub. Malty considered calling for her masseuse and other servants to spoil her but decided against it. She'd already had an extensive bath this morning. She could indulge later again. First, she needed to fix her broken masseuse.
"This won't do," Malty said as she stared at the tiny servant's uniform that had been provided for Raphtalia, lying on her lounger. The thing was just so...plain. Her masseuse, her prize, wouldn't wear something like that. She wasn't just another servant, and they better knew it. "Bring me something more adequate. A dress."
"A dress, Your Highness? For the Demi girl?"
"Yes, one of Melty's would do." Malty waved her off. She was one of the younger maids Malty had never bothered to learn the name of.
"But..." Her eyes flickered to where Raphtalia sat on the lounger, rolled up in a large, crimson towel, still dead to the world.
Malty raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I can't just take the Crown Princess's stuff!" She cringed and averted her eyes, as if expecting punishment.
"My dear sister is an uncouth little brat that likes to roll in the dirt with Filolials. I'm sure she won't mind lending some clothes to a Demi-human. Clothes she won't need since she isn't even here. Now go and fetch me one of her dresses before I lose my patience."
"Y-yes, Your Highness!"
Malty heaved a sigh. Ever since her slip-up at Rifana's arrival—and now Raphtalia's—her servants had been acting weirdly. Mala straight-up refused to do any tasks that had anything to do with her little raccoon masseuse. Yet, she'd happily fetched Father Bauley and seemed proud of Malty's decision to convert and repent. It was at times like these that Malty—master manipulator, chess prodigy, and unparalleled genius—found herself at a loss with no idea what to think or do.
Finally, the maid returned with a full set of the getup Melty always wore, socks and shoes included. "Thank you." Good, she thought. Seems someone has a brain, after all.
"Everyone out," Malty ordered, "safe for Bald and Blue-Eyes." She felt almost relieved when they were finally alone.
Bald and Blue-Eyes stood with their backs to them while Malty removed the towel from Raphtalia's form and began dressing her. It was an odd experience, acting as a servant. Malty rarely even dressed herself, let alone someone else. And dressing Raphtalia was far from easy, with how unresponsive the girl was. It made her appreciate her servants a little more.
"There, fits perfectly," Malty said, smoothing the fabric at her shoulders and making sure the bow-shaped cords at the collar sat perfectly. "Do you like it?"
No reaction.
Malty was undeterred, smiling. She guided Raphtalia over to one of her dressing tables and sat down with the girl in her lap, then inspected them in the mirror. The blue color of Melty's dress didn't go well with Raphtalia's hair, but it was still a major improvement from the rags she'd arrived in. I'll ask Rellaya to make something more fitting. Then again, perhaps not. She found it rather fitting for Raphtalia to wear her sister's dress. A little mockery she couldn't resist.
Malty took a comb and began running it through Raphtalia's hair. It was still a bit damp but soft to touch. The girl gave no reaction, but Malty thought that her breathing changed. She was enjoying it, she could tell. I mean, who doesn't love having their hair combed? Well, except Bald, of course. She snorted, picturing running the comb across the skin on his head. He'd probably enjoy that, though.
"Blue-Eyes."
"Yes, Your Magnanimousness?"
Malty snorted and shot him a grin in the mirror. "When you found Rifana, was she also this unresponsive?"
"Hmm... Not really. Sure, in the beginning, she didn't say much, only coughed a lot. But once I'd cured her sickness, she seemed fine. Opened up rather quickly." He smirked and winked. "My charm and wit may have helped."
"I can imagine." Malty noticed how Raphtalia had tensed, her eyes flickering to Blue-Eyes's, attentive. She kept the smirk off her face. "So you think Raphtalia will be fine? It's just a phase?"
"I'd wager. Rifana claimed that Raphtalia had always been a rather active kid with too much energy. Running around like a boy. Being a little brash. That sort of stuff."
Yes, that pretty much matched with Malty's experience.
"You... you really saved her?" Raphtalia asked, her tone hushed and awed.
"Sure did. I came just in time. A day later and she would have been a goner."
Before Malty could react, Raphtalia had already jumped from her lap and was hugging Blue-Eyes's legs tightly.
"Hey hey. I may have been the one to get your friend, but I only followed orders."
Raphtalia stared up at him. "You mean?" She looked toward Malty.
"Yes, you should thank her for it."
Malty offered her an inviting smile and spread her arms, and Raphtalia readily threw herself at her. Her tiny arms were clutching Malty's waist desperately, her head burrowed in Malty's chest. Then she shook and sobbed.
Malty rubbed her back and caressed her Demi ears. "There there. Everything's fine now. You're safe here. I'll take care of you. Everything's okay." She tried not to think about how the girl was ruining her dress. Oh well, it's not like I don't have a dozen more.
Raphtalia nodded, then turned her head up to stare at Malty with tearful eyes and a wobbly smile. "Thank you. Thank you so much..." She trailed off, a sheepish expression creeping across her face.
"I'm Malty."
"Malty..." Her eyes widened, and she blanched. "Are you the Princess?" she gasped.
"The one and only."
"I, I'm— s-sorry. Thank you, Your— Your Highness!"
Malty giggled. "None of that. You can call me Malty." She smirked. "Or big sister Malty, if you want."
"Big sister Malty?" Raphtalia was frowning cutely.
"Yes. You'll be my little sister now." Malty combed through Raphtalia's hair, caressed the soft raccoon ears. "And we'll have some great fun together. Play dress-up. Try out new foods together. Have tea parties." Basically everything Melty was too much of an annoying brat for.
"Tea parties?"
"Yes. Did you never have tea parties with your friends?"
Raphtalia shook her head, a moment of sadness creeping over her face, and Malty reminded herself that the girl had been growing up among savages. They probably hadn't even owned a proper tea set to play with.
"Can I see Rifana? If... if that's okay?"
"I'm sorry, but Rifana isn't here anymore. She works somewhere else now."
"Oh..." Raphtalia deflated.
"But I'm sure she'll come by soon to visit. Yes, there's a feast planned in a few weeks. She'll be there, I promise." After the Wave.
"Okay."
"Now, let me style your hair...little sister." Malty couldn't help but giggle. How does it feel, Melty, being replaced just like that? Her sister's face would be priceless when she returned. Malty maneuvered her life-sized doll on her lap so that they were both facing the mirror. She began combing Raphtalia's hair and shot the girl a grin in the mirror, which she happily returned. Her tail was wagging now.
Malty was almost tempted to take her mockery to the next level and style Raphtalia's hair into the Royal Strands, but sadly, her bangs were not nearly long enough for that. It would need to grow for at least half a year before that would be possible. She ended up settling for Raphtalia's usual hairstyle, though she adorned it with some blue thread, creating a bow-shape similar to that of her dress's collar on the left side of her bangs.
"Perfect!" Malty exclaimed. "What do you think?"
"Very beautiful," Bald chimed in.
"Not to mention cute," Blue-Eyes said.
"Quite right."
Raphtalia blushed and averted her eyes. She was probably overwhelmed with everything happening. Her stomach rumbled, making Malty giggle.
"Hungry?"
"Hm-hmm."
"Me too." Malty decided that she'd wait a little longer until she gave her father a heart attack and sent Blue-Eyes to organize dinner in her rooms.
After reassuring Raphtalia for the third time that, yes, the food was for her, and yes, she could eat as much as she wanted, the girl dug in with gusto, devouring one Filolial chick thighs after the other. She always licked the bones clean, not letting anything go to waste. The servants shot her disgusted looks—more so than usual—but Malty couldn't care less. Teaching the girl some proper manners could wait until she had some more meat on her bones.
And it was kind of amusing. Bald and Blue-Eyes were joking and chuckling quietly among themselves on the opposite side of the table. Malty relaxed and sipped her wine, already done eating, and watched her little masseuse stuff herself.
A sudden, impossibly loud burp disrupted the dinner atmosphere, leaving behind shocked silence.
Raphtalia slapped her hands across her mouth. "I'm so sorry!" she squeaked, eyes filled with horror.
Malty burst out laughing. She may have been a little drunk. There was nothing like a good dose of laughter to destroy the tension in the room and return to a friendly, light-hearted atmosphere.
"Are you done?" Malty asked her once the laughter died down.
Raphtalia nodded, and Malty reached over with a wet cloth to clean her face. The girl seemed too embarrassed and content to say anything. Face clean, Malty handed the cloth to Raphtalia, who cleaned her fingers, then grasped her plate and hopped off her stool.
Malty frowned at her. "What are you doing?"
"Ahem... Where do I put this...Your Highness?"
"Don't be silly. Here..." Malty waved her back. "Put it back on the table and sit down. And haven't I told you to call me Malty?"
Raphtalia did so without question. "Sorry, Malty," she mumbled.
"You just wait and let the servants clean the table."
"But am I not a servant?"
"Of course not. You're my masseuse."
"But..." Raphtalia looked befuddled. "Doesn't that also...make me your servant?"
Yes. But actually, no, Malty thought and let out a drunken giggle. "You're my cutesy raccoon masseuse." Another giggle. "Which means the only thing you do is massage me... And in the meantime, you relax. Relaxing is good, isn't it, Raphtalia?"
Still frowning, Raphtalia nodded slowly.
Malty stood up and gestured for her servants to clear the table, then took Raphtalia by the hand and led her over toward her lounger. It was time for her first lesson.
"Now," Malty said, making herself comfortable. "Have you ever massaged someone before?"
Raphtalia shook her head.
"That's okay. You'll learn it now."
As if on cue, the masseuse Malty didn't know the name of arrived.
"She'll teach you. Introduce yourself."
"Hello," Raphtalia said quietly, eyes lowered. "I'm Raphtalia."
"Lana." The fellow brunettes shook hands. Lana smiled gently. She didn't seem biased. As a masseuse, she'd probably touched all kinds of people—and not everyone was as soft and perfect as Malty—and wasn't afraid of a little Demi, especially not one as cute and well-dressed as Raphtalia.
Malty turned onto her stomach and made herself comfortable, relaxing against her pillows with eyes closed.
"Come, help me undo the Princess's dress so that we can start."
Malty smiled as Raphtalia's tiny hands fingered with the cords holding her dress in place. Already, her skin was tingling in anticipation, excitement building up in her stomach. She could practically feel the girl's frustration when the cords proved more resilient than expected, which only widened Malty's smile against her pillows. Finally, her back was bared, and she felt two sets of hands settle against her skin as Lana instructed Raphtalia what to do.
Perhaps I should have kept Rifana too, Malty thought. What's better than two masseuses? Three, obviously! She giggled. I think I'll keep Lana regardless of her too-large hands. Every true aficionado of efficient laziness knows that variation is key to long-living pleasure. She released a pleased hum as Raphtalia's tiny hands kneaded her skin. There was just something so different about the touch. Malty loved it already, practically getting horny at the thought of all the pleasure she'd receive in the future once the little girl was fully trained.
"Good. That's good," Lana praised. "You're a fast learner, Raphtalia."
"Thank you," she mumbled.
They kept it up for a few hours. An ideal evening, really.
They had a little before-bed snack, then Malty had the servants carry her lounger into her bedroom. "You'll sleep there," Malty explained, which elicited a big, relieved grin from Raphtalia.
They changed into nightwear. Malty procured a blanket for Raphtalia and tucked her in. She was enjoying this more than she would have thought.
"Sleep well, little sis," Malty said, then promptly released a giggle. It was more like an insane chortling sound. And once started, she couldn't stop. She gasped for breath, wheezing, and Raphtalia awkwardly chuckled along, as if she thought it was expected of her. Adopting the Demi girl was either the most genius or dumbest decision she'd ever made. "S-sorry, I'm drunk."
"Hm-hmm. Good night, Malty."
Malty caressed those soft raccoon ears. As if in a trance, she sat there for a long while, just relishing the feeling of smooth fur against her palms. Definitely the most genius decision. Raphtalia was long asleep when Malty finally got up, extinguished the candles, and clumsily climbed into her own bed.
"Hmmmmm?" Malty tapped around her bed, sleepy mind focused on the delightful wet dream she'd just had. Someone was tugging at the sleeve of her nightgown, though, and she begrudgingly blinked her eyes open.
Who dares to disturb me at this ungodly hour? she thought. She was a second away from snapping at whoever it was when—
"Malty."
She was briefly confused before recalling the events of the previous day, that she wasn't alone in her bedroom. Her irritation subsided.
"Malty. B-big sister Malty?" Raphtalia said hesitantly. Her voice sounded odd, as if she'd cried.
"Raphtalia?" Malty wiped her eyes, trying to make out the girl's form in the dark. "What is it?"
Raphtalia was standing next to the bed, just tall enough to reach onto the high mattress and grasp Malty's sleeve. "C-can I come sleep in your bed?"
"Of course. Come here." Malty reached over and helped her climb into the bed. They shuffled beneath the blanket. "Nightmare?"
"Hm-hmm." Raphtalia nodded.
Malty drew her against her and held her tight, caressing. Raphtalia's head rested in-between her breasts. Well, she knows what's good, Malty thought and just barely managed to hold back a giggle. Yep. Still drunk.
"Sorry for waking you," Raphtalia mumbled.
"It's fine. That's what big sisters are for, right?" Malty didn't mind at all. The girl was soft and warm. Perhaps a little bony, yes, but Malty made up for it with her own softness. "I like cuddling..."
Raphtalia hummed and snuggled a little deeper. "Okay..."
Malty drew soothing figures on her back, relishing the feeling of another body against hers. Rellaya had rarely spent the night, and Malty had often been too embarrassed to ask for some cuddles after sex.
Another unexpected benefit of her decision to save the girl. How many Filolials were that now? Seven? Eight? Probably more. Quantifying the magnitude of her drunken genius was simply not possible.
Malty woke up to a commotion happening in her rooms. Servants were talking in hurried voices, scurrying about.
What's going on now? she wondered but was too content to move. Miraculously, Raphtalia hadn't woken up yet, dozing peacefully on top of her.
"Your Highness! Your Highness! I'm afraid the little beast has snuck away during the night—"
The curtains of her bed got yanked aside, revealing Mala, whose expression shifted from apprehensive—and slightly gleeful—to perplexed and horrified. Malty laughed. The good woman got a little green in the face, looking as if she might faint any moment now.
"Oh. D-don't let me disturb you." Mala stumbled away and out of the room, closing the door with more force than appropriate.
Malty kept laughing, already gasping for breath.
Raphtalia stirred, lifting her head off Malty's breasts. She yawned. Malty tapped her little nose and giggled.
The girl smiled tiredly, blinking her big eyes open. "So it wasn't a dream...after all."
"What was?" Was the girl talking about her nightmare?
"You... You s-saved me. And Rifana. And..." She trailed off, tears gathering in her eyes. She sniveled.
It's too early for an emotional breakdown, Malty decided. She took Raphtalia's head and pressed her face-first into her chest, smothering the girl's pathetic crying with her perfect breasts. That's better.
Raphtalia gave a little squeak but relaxed after a moment. Malty kept her there, idly petting her raccoon ears, and called for breakfast.
The food arrived with familiar speed, order restored in her rooms, and they transitioned into a sitting position, side by side. Malty grinned at how Raphtalia was making big eyes at the abundant assortment of foods, many of which the girl had probably never seen in her rural village. So Malty gave some explanations. Then she dug in.
"Aren't you hungry?" Malty asked, chewing. It was more of a rhetorical question. The girl was practically salivating next to her, staring at the food with greedy eyes. "Go on. Have a bite."
"Really? I can eat?"
"Of course." Malty rolled her eyes. "How often do I need to tell you?"
"B-but you're the Princess!"
"The unimportant one."
"And I'm just...Raphtalia."
"You're my masseuse—the important one. Now stop complaining and indulge."
Raphtalia didn't need to be told twice.
"Ah ah." Malty halted her. "Not so fast."
Raphtalia pouted, apprehensive.
"You can't stuff your face like a barbarian. You're my masseuse, so any bad behavior falls back on me, do you understand? Try to have some decorum. The food isn't going anywhere, alright? Take your time. Savor it."
"Yes, Malty."
"Good girl."
Raphtalia beamed and dug in. At a more controlled pace now, but still too fast for Malty's taste.
"Finished?"
"Hm-hmm!"
Malty signaled for her servants to clear away the breakfast. Once they were alone again, Malty embraced her live plushie and collapsed them back into a lying position, then remained like that. She giggled.
"What...are you doing, Malty?"
"Cuddling. Digesting. Relaxing..." She let out a content sigh, faintly rubbing her cheek against one of Raphtalia's furry ears.
"Oh."
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"No. I... I just... Why are you so nice to me? I feel like I, I don't deserve—"
"Shhh... No crying."
"Sorry."
"And no more silly talk about not deserving this or that. You're my little masseuse. I decide what you deserve or not. Understood?"
"Yes, big sister Malty."
Malty grinned. "That's more like it."
A hesitant knock sounded on her bedroom door. "Your Highness? Do you need anything? Shall I send someone to help you dress?"
Malty snorted. Mala was such a comedian. Normally, she'd just barge into the room, uninvited. But now, she was scared of a little girl.
"I'll call if I need anything." She was getting sleepy again and decided that a little nap couldn't hurt. Raphtalia seemed of the same mind, dozing off before Malty did.
When they awoke again, Malty felt well-rested and content. She chimed her bell. "Mala! Come and help us get dressed," she called, perhaps a little too cheerfully.
The old maid entered, clearly apprehensive, but with new determination. She didn't protest when Malty asked her to assist her when she went about dressing Raphtalia. Seems there's hope for her yet. She was clearly uncomfortable, but she was trying.
When it was Malty's turn to get dressed, Raphtalia insisted on helping, and Malty allowed it, smiling at the little girl's confusion about how to tie her dress.
"Not like that," Mala admonished and slapped Raphtalia's hand away. The girl took the abuse without blinking an eye.
"Mala," Malty said, tone icy. "If you ever lay a hand on my little masseuse again, I will have you thrown out the window."
"A-apologies, Your Highness. Forgive me. It shan't happen again." The old woman seemed genuinely intimidated.
Malty smiled. "See that it doesn't. Now do your job and dress me."
She did, fingers shaking.
"Now," Malty said, fully dressed. "Have my lounger carried into my living room, then gather all my servants. I have an announcement to make."
Malty sat on her lounger, balancing Raphtalia on her thighs. Around them, the servants were gathered, apprehensive, sharing looks, some gulping, staring and frowning at the little Demi-girl wearing the Crown Princess's dress, quietly clearing their dry throats. Malty ignored them for a while longer. She made Raphtalia hop up and down occasionally, or tickled her, enjoying the little girl's giggles and squeaks. It was like owning a well-behaved pet—but better.
"You're probably wondering why I've gathered you here," Malty finally said, completely unnecessarily. "For everyone who doesn't know: This is Raphtalia. You're to treat her as if she were my little sister." She paused, smiling at some of the expected gasps and muttered words. "I fully understand if you have a problem with this. If you do, you're free to resign or ask for a different position at the castle. Rest assured that it won't negatively reflect upon you."
The servants looked at each other. Finally, one maid left, then another. Malty nodded. "Good. Anyone else?" She raised an eyebrow at Mala, but the woman stubbornly shook her head, as if saying she'd never abandon Malty. "Alright then. Thank you for gathering here. Go back to your tasks. Lana, it's time for another lesson. Blue-Eyes, you go and look for a replacement for those who've left, then bring them in for me to interview...tomorrow."
Everyone shot into motion, Blue-Eyes doing so with a wink.
Good, Malty thought, tickling Raphtalia once more, making her giggle. This went better than expected. Now it's time to relax.
Malty fancied that the girl had already improved quite a bit since yesterday. Not that it really mattered. Her little fingers sent pleasant shivers across her skin, and the occasional clumsiness only caused Malty to grin into her pillows.
They made a break for lunch. As they ate leisurely, Malty taught Raphtalia how to play Rock Paper Scissors.
"That's not for you," Malty said when Raphtalia reached for the bottle of wine after emptying her glass of juice.
The girl pouted.
"It's an adult drink. Not for children."
"Oh."
Malty thought for a moment, then grinned and handed her wine goblet to the girl. "Here. Have a sip."
"But I thought it wasn't for me?"
"Just try. You'll see."
She did. And grimaced. "Eww."
Giggling, Malty took her goblet back. "See. It's an adult drink."
"I see, Malty."
"Let's play some Rock Paper Scissors."
Raphtalia nodded enthusiastically.
They played for a while, amusing themselves greatly. Malty eyed her chess set but reserved that for another day. "Time for more massages."
Malty sent Bald and Blue-Eyes on guard duty, then disrobed and laid down on her back.
Her two masseuses didn't waste any time to continue, starting at her legs, working their way upward.
"Not there," Lana instructed when Raphtalia transitioned from Malty's abdomen to the underside of her left breast.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Malty grinned. "You can massage there as well. Just be gentle."
"Are you sure, Your Highness?" Lana asked. "We shouldn't—"
"Yes, I'm sure. You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable, Lana. What about you, Raphtalia? Do you have a problem?"
"Why would I?" she asked with childlike innocence.
"Exactly. Go on, then. It wouldn't do to miss a spot, now would it?"
"Yes, Malty."
Malty relaxed, enjoying the massage. Raphtalia did a good job. And she seemed to enjoy it too, letting out a little giggle and an awed murmur: "So soft."
Really, why were all the masseuses so stuck up about it? It was just skin. Perhaps more sensitive skin, but that was only all the more reason to get massaged there!
When her nipples hardened beneath Raphtalia's touch, she thought about Rellaya and Lula—and Tolia, oddly—and let her thoughts drift away.
She had an unplanned little nap, then it was time for a bath, which Malty had together with Raphtalia.
This time, it was mostly Raphtalia washing Malty, though. Lana accompanied them, giving Raphtalia instructions, though she remained clothed and outside the tub as usual.
Afterward, they had dinner, which they were joined by Bald and Blue-Eyes. They seemed in an especially chipper mood today, and once they were done eating, the four of them transitioned onto her settees, drinking and snacking while the two knights regaled them with silly story after silly story.
Malty had Raphtalia—who hung on Blue-Eyes and Bald's every word—in her lap the whole time. She cuddled the girl. Petted her tail and ears. Combed her hair. Braided it. The evening was filled with laughter and giggles and happy tears and wine and more laughter.
Best day ever, Malty thought when they finally retired for the night. She'd let her lounger bring into her room as the day before, but then she just picked Raphtalia up and carried her into her own bed.
The girl seemed all too happy about it.
"Want a good night massage?" Raphtalia asked as they settled into the sheets.
"Good thinking." Malty stripped out of her nightgown, and the Raphtalia didn't so much as blink at the sudden nakedness. She really was adjusting nicely, no hint of the empty shell she'd been upon arrival.
Malty laid down on her stomach, but then pushed herself up again. "I got a better idea. Let's play a game."
"A game?"
"Yes. Go undress." Malty helped Raphtalia out of her nightgown. "Lay down."
She did, and Malty put her hands on the girl's slender back. Ah shit, I forgot about the scars. "Are you okay?"
Raphtalia gave a weak hum, her breathing suddenly a bit erratic, her tail stiffening.
"Okay, so this game is about guessing. First, imagine that your back is a chalkboard. Okay? Or perhaps it's a nice, dry dirt ground. Or sand on the beach. Whatever works for you."
"Hmm-hm."
Malty was glad to note that she seemed to relax a little. "Now before you start, you need to make sure it's all clean and even." She gently brushed her palms across Raphtalia's back, trying to ignore the scars as best as possible. "There. Perfect. Now I'll draw, and you have to guess what it is." She started with a rough egg shape, tracing the skin with her right forefinger.
"A ball," Raphtalia said.
"No."
"An egg."
Malty giggled. "No. I'm not done yet, silly. But you're welcome to keep guessing." She added some more features to her imaginative egg.
"A Balloon."
"Nope."
"Hmm... Oh, I know. A dragon!"
Malty chuckled. "No."
"I don't know, then."
"Giving up?"
"...maybe?"
"Well, perhaps I should have started with something simpler. I'm far from the best artist. It was supposed to be... you."
"Me?"
"Yes. Didn't you notice how I drew the ears?"
"But my ears are round," Raphtalia said, confused.
"Psssst! I said I'm not the best artist!"
Raphtalia chortled, her earlier anxiety forgotten. "So it's my turn now?"
"Yes." They swapped positions, Raphtalia sitting on Malty's butt. She made the imaginative sand even, then started drawing, leaving behind pleasant tingles on Malty's skin.
A half-circle, Malty thought, and another. "Hills."
"Not done yet." Raphtalia drew a line downward.
"Hmm... breasts!"
"No."
"A bra."
Raphtalia giggled. "No."
"A butt!" Malty exclaimed, sure that it was correct.
"Noooo..."
"Then I have no clue." What else could the girl have drawn?
"It's a heart, silly!"
"Ohhh..." That was...rather unexpected.
As if to emphasize the point, Raphtalia pressed a kiss in-between Malty's shoulder blades, then laid down on Malty's back and hugged her—as best as you could hug a lying person. She somehow managed to snake her little arms around Malty's torso.
Awww, Malty thought. Someone loves their awesome big sister very much. She smiled, feeling the wonderfully warm naked skin against hers, enjoying the sensation of faint breath ghosting across her back. Who's the best drunk sister ever? I am! I am! She shook with silent laughter.
Malty fully relaxed and let her mind drift off to sleep. Best decision ever.
I kinda got carried away with the chapter. Oh well, guess another chapter full of silliness won't hurt. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Perplexing Friends and Family
NatsuKurogane99: Please stop spamming reviews on my other stories telling me to update this one. Maybe, if you want to encourage an author to update a certain story, actually do review that story. Begging and complaining on my other stories only has the opposite effect. If that was your goal, then kudos to you... Anyway, I'm not mad or anything, but it's getting annoying. Please stop. Thanks.
Things soon fell into a comfortable rhythm. The time Malty enjoyed massages each day—and night—was at an all-time high. She drank and indulged. She dressed up Raphtalia, combed her hair, and played Rock Paper Scissors. Malty taught the girl how to play chess—and some proper table manners—only mildly successful with the former. They slept together. Cuddled. So much cuddling... hmmmmmmm...
Days passed. Raphtalia became more accustomed to her new life. Opened up more, though she'd yet to tell Malty what her nightmares were about, not that it really mattered.
It was the best week Malty had ever had, but like all good things, it had to come to an end at some point.
"Queen to D5," Malty instructed. She squinted, double-checking the board. It was quite hard to get the numbers right while looking at the board upside down, but she wasn't a genius for nothing!
Raphtalia dutifully moved Malty's piece, pouting cutely as she removed her remaining knight from the board. The girl sat on her favorite crimson rug, legs to one side, wearing one of Melty's dresses. She liked sitting on the ground, or so she had claimed.
While Raphtalia contemplated her move, Malty reached for her wine glass. She was perched on her peach-colored settee with her back against the space intended for seating. Her head hung over the edge, some of her hair touching the rug. And her legs were slung over the backrest so that her feet dangled in the air. Sometimes, she spread her legs piece-of-cake-wide, wondering if someone would dare to peak at her royal underwear. It never failed to send tingles of excitement through her...and made her giggle in drunken silliness. Of course, no one really traversed the narrow space between the settee and the window, but Malty was a master of ignoring facts that weren't in her field of view.
She brought the goblet to her mouth and took measured sips. Holding the glass while upside down without spilling any of the wine—not to mention drinking—was quite difficult, but after hours of practice, she did it flawlessly. Gracefully. It was just another sign of her unparalleled genius.
The whole thing had started as a way to give her a handicap while playing chess, but it hadn't really helped Raphtalia past the first few matches. If anything, Malty felt that it forced her to think differently, and ultimately made her a better player.
It was in this position that the door to Malty's room opened and someone entered without knocking. She took a last sip, carefully set the glass down, and squinted past Raphtalia to look at who had entered. She did an upside-down double-take, wondering just how much she'd had to drink that day.
But no, the white hair and shiny crown were unmistakable. After a week of ignoring him, Aultcray had finally visited.
Malty waved, giggling. "Hello, Father. What brings you to my rooms on this fine day?"
"Malty. What... what are you doing?"
"Playing chess?"
Aultcray just eyed her upside-down form for a moment, then Raphtalia, then her wine glass, expression disapproving. "You're drunk."
"A little."
"It looks like a little more than just a little."
Malty giggled and waved a careless hand. She got a little woozy from the coordination and thinking it required. "I'm still sober enough to win. Raphtalia, rook to F8." She kept looking at her father. "What's the state of the board?"
"Checkmate," Raphtalia mumbled in that cute dejected tone.
"See?" Malty beamed.
Aultcray crossed his arms. "So you can win against a Demi girl. Impressive."
Malty glared. Was he saying that Demis were all stupid, and thus, it was no achievement at all? I'll have you know that they can be cultivated just fine.
"I've heard quite a bit about the new addition to your staff. I thought it was just a rumor that you've allowed her to dress up with Melty's clothes, but it seems not."
Raphtalia ducked her head, as if it was her fault, somehow. Today, Malty had styled her hair into twin pigtails, each secured with blue ribbons; they now fell to shadow her anxious face. She went to reset the board, tail dejected. Silly girl. Hopefully, she wouldn't cry and ruin the carefully-applied eyeliner. Malty would have to cuddle and tickle her thoroughly later, not that she hadn't planned to do that anyway.
"Why don't you join me for dinner this evening and explain it to me?" Aultcray sighed. "And please have some more decorum and sit like a proper lady. If your mother knew about this—"
"Then I wouldn't care at all!" Malty snapped. "Is that all, Father?"
Aultcray gathered himself for a second. "I'm sorry, Malty. I didn't come here to reprimand you. I've missed our conversations...and the chess games. Please join me for dinner."
"I'll think about it."
He grunted. After directing a last frown at Raphtalia, he left.
"I need a massage," Malty announced. "Bald, Blue-Eyes, come here and carry me over to my lounger."
They did so while chuckling to themselves. Blue-Eyes didn't miss the opportunity to praise her beauty. They were gentle with her. It wasn't really appropriate behavior either, but Malty didn't care. She'd never had the feeling as if the two knights harbored any attraction toward her. Sometimes, she wondered whether they were gay. Perhaps they were secretly pining for each other.
After an extensive massage—Raphtalia's skill was improving at a satisfactory rate—Malty didn't feel all that enthusiastic. She was still angry with her father.
Wait, what am I upset about again? she thought and shook her head. Right, the trial. Well, I guess it's time for some payback. Let's see you choke on your food when I show up with my new little sister. She grinned. Just a little choke, though. She didn't want him to die.
Raphtalia seemed apprehensive ever since her father's visit. And when it was time to leave and Malty took her by the hand, she practically had to drag her along. The girl's resistance increased as they neared the door of her rooms.
"Raphtalia?" Malty halted and crouched in front of her. "Look at me, Raphtalia. What's wrong?"
"Do... do we have to go? Can't we eat with Bald and Blue-Eyes? And I want to massage you some more..."
"Don't worry. My father is all bark and no bite. It'll be fine."
"I... I..." Her eyes seemed out of focus for a second.
Malty hugged her. "Shhh." The girl was trembling. "It's okay. We'll stay here. My father can wait."
Raphtalia nodded. "Th-thank you."
"I didn't want to go anyway," Malty said with a shrug. "Are you okay?"
Raphtalia giggled with a hint of tears. "Yes."
They returned to her settees, and Malty took Raphtalia in her lap. "Mala, go tell my father that I won't join him today. Tomorrow, perhaps." Raphtalia tensed. "Or the day after. Or after that... I'll let him know."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Vyllia."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"What's for dinner today?"
Vyllia was one of the replacements for the maids that had left. Apparently, she was the one Blue-Eyes had brought Rifana to. Malty hadn't yet figured out what race of Demi-human she was, but she didn't want to appear ignorant and ask. And going to the library was way too strenuous. Sooner or later, Malty would remember, she was sure. With purple hair and fur, the young woman was quite distinct. And beautiful. Alluring with soft features and bright lavender eyes. Malty sometimes found herself lusting after her, but being practically joined by the hip with Raphtalia made it difficult to engage in any clandestine activities, so she resigned herself to only fantasizing while she enjoyed massages and other pleasures. Vyllia was straight anyway, and Malty was sure she had a crush on Blue-Eyes, so there was that.
"...served with a mixed salad, and for dessert, a piece of red berry cake," Vyllia finished, smiling.
Malty had Raphtalia choose what she wanted, then ordered half the menu anyway. For someone who'd worked in the kitchens before, Vyllia had adjusted well to being a maid. Being a personal maid to the Princess wasn't something a Demi-human could usually achieve. Malty fancied that only made her work harder.
It would be a shame to suddenly have to work in the kitchens again, wouldn't it? Malty thought, eyeing the exotic woman, the pointed ears, the white spots disrupting the purple fur. What would you do to retain this position? My royal pussy is in desperate need of some attention, you see. She shook the silly thought off. It wouldn't do to extort the staff and potentially make an enemy. Besides, the woman got along well with Raphtalia. "Go hurry. I'm hungry."
"Right away, Your Highness." Vyllia curtsied and left, and Malty stared after her tail for a moment.
"Tell us a story, Bald," Raphtalia pleaded during dinner. "Please please?" Who could say no to that cute look, amplified by the eyeliner? It was a wonder she hadn't won her father over when he'd visited.
"I can't." Bald could, apparently. "I'm sorry, little Raphtalia, but I've already told you all the stories I know. And it's too early to tell them again."
"I know..." Raphtalia pouted.
"But..." Bald whipped out a deck of cards. "How about a little game?"
"Okay!"
Bald went to great lengths to explain the rules. Apparently, this was another game he'd learned from Tolia, one that was brought into their world by one of the Saints. It was called skat. And it could only be played with three players.
After dinner, they situated themselves on her settees and played, Bald and Blue-Eyes sitting on opposite sides of their settee to avoid peeking. Malty and Raphtalia played together, of course, the girl situated comfortably in her lap. Unfortunately, twice the brainpower didn't equal twice the skill, and they lost nearly all the matches. When they won, it was only through sheer luck.
I'm way too drunk for such a complicated game, Malty eventually decided and contented herself with petting Raphtalia while the girl played solo. She seemed to do way better than when they'd played together, but that was just Blue-Eyes and Bald going easy on her. Silly knights...
The next day, Raphtalia seemed more guarded than usual.
"Are we going to have dinner with your father today?" she asked during breakfast in bed, not meeting Malty's eyes.
"Only if you want to."
Raphtalia shook her head shyly.
"Okay. Then we'll stay here." Malty went a little easy on the wine that day. She needed to figure out how to lessen Raphtalia's apprehension.
During midday, they had a surprise visitor.
"Mother Ralapha?" Malty questioned, looking up from their game of chess—sitting properly today.
The Demi woman walked into the room with an angelic smile on her face. "Malty. It's good to see you." She straight-up bent down to hug Malty, as if it was totally normal for a Demi-human to hug the Princess and call her by her first name.
Malty returned the hug and couldn't help but smile. "Have a seat."
"Thank you." Mother Ralapha faced Raphtalia. "And you must be Raphtalia."
"Hello."
"I'm Mother Ralapha. I and my husband run the Four Saints Church in Castle Town."
Raphtalia nodded along.
"What can I do for you?" Malty asked.
"Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting. Forgive my rudeness."
"No no. Everything's fine."
"I just wanted to come by in person to give you this." Mother Ralapha reached into her robes and retrieved an envelope, which she handed to Malty.
A letter? Malty frowned, then opened it. She skimmed the graceful writing. "An invitation to your daughter's wedding?"
"Yes, we'd be delighted if you could make it. You're welcome to bring Raphtalia as well. I'm sure Tolia would love to meet her." She looked around the room. "And Bald and Blue-Eyes too, of course. Anyone is invited, really. The wedding will take place on the meadow near the Iron Square. There'll be plenty of space and food to accommodate everyone."
"Thank you," Malty said. "We'll be there." If only because she was very curious how the whole thing would take place. And, well, there was food. Perhaps they served some Demi-human delicacies?
"Great!" Mother Ralapha beamed. "That's all." She stood. "Oh, and my offer still stands, if you'd like to learn the violin."
"Thank you, but I don't—" Malty halted, thinking it over. "Actually, it would be perfect if you could teach me and Raphtalia together."
"Of course. How wonderful! I'm busy today, but I could come by tomorrow morning."
"So early? I mean, aren't you busy with organizing the wedding? I'd hate to take away your time."
Mother Ralapha made a dismissive hand gesture. "The organization had been completed for weeks. I'd only worry unnecessarily if I didn't keep myself busy with other things."
"I understand completely," Malty said, nodding. "Tomorrow it is, then. Don't come too early, though."
The Demi woman laughed good-naturedly. "Yes, my dear husband told me all about having breakfast with you. Early noon, then."
"Great." Malty faced the room. "Mala, make sure to bring us two violins for tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Highness."
After another hug and Malty offering a small donation to the Four Saint Faith, Mother Ralapha said her goodbyes and left. It was only as the door fell shut behind the woman that Malty saw Raphtalia's dejected posture. She hadn't exactly asked about her opinion, but the girl should be grateful to be offered this opportunity.
"What's wrong? Don't you want to learn the play the violin?"
Raphtalia shrugged.
"You don't want to go to the wedding."
Raphtalia tensed. She swallowed, keeping her eyes lowered.
Malty hummed, thinking. "You don't have to worry. There'll be plenty of people, yes, but many of them Demi-humans. Wouldn't you like to meet them?"
"I... I'd rather stay here...and do masseuse things."
"Okay. We don't have to go." Malty frowned at how the girl relaxed. "What do you think of my father?"
"Your father? The King?"
"Yes."
"He seemed...nice. Wise. He cares about you."
Malty's smile faltered for a second. "Yes, I suppose. So you're not afraid of him?"
Raphtalia shook her head. "No."
"But you also don't want to eat with him."
Raphtalia nodded carefully.
The solution to the puzzle was quite obvious for someone as smart as Malty: Raphtalia was afraid to leave her rooms. Malty's rooms had become a safe haven for the girl, and everything else was uncharted territory where she could be hurt and abused again. Kidnapped and sold off, perhaps.
On one hand, this was kind of exactly what Malty had planned. On the other hand, they couldn't remain in her rooms forever. She looked out of the window and was suddenly overcome with the desire to feel the sun's warmness on her skin. I really need to sunbathe sometime. I'll become deathly pale if I remain holed up like this.
Malty stood up and began pacing the rooms. Raphtalia followed her. Malty stretched, yawning loudly. "What a beautiful day. Almost too good to be wasting it away inside. Don't you think, Raphtalia?"
The girl gave a non-committal hum, obviously apprehensive. Malty leaned down to grab her and took her into her arms. Raphtalia slung her arms around Malty's neck to stabilize. Her hair, which Malty had secured into a ponytail with braided top, tickled the skin on her shoulders.
"Okay," Malty said, grinning. "We're going to take a stroll in the gardens now. I'll be with you the entire time. No one is going to hurt you. You just sit there in my arms and look cute. Okay?"
"Yes, Malty."
Malty exited her rooms and descended the staircase. She could feel Raphtalia tense in her arms, almost holding onto Malty with a death grip. When they were out of the castle, she relaxed marginally.
It really was a beautiful day. Malty hummed and took a moment to close her eyes, enjoying the warm sun on her skin, breathing in the flower-scented air. Then she took a walk through the blooming garden. She ignored the weird looks she got and regaled Raphtalia with explanations about the place and plants, as well as some of the silly things she'd gotten up to as a child.
Soon, Raphtalia was completely relaxed, giggling along.
Passing by the old rose tree, they crossed paths with an unexpected figure. A pair, to be exact.
"Vice-captain Dante," Malty greeted cheerfully. "And company?"
"Your Highness." Vice-captain Dante bowed respectfully. "This is Lady Mira. We're courting."
"How lovely."
"It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness," Mira said. She suggested a curtsy, still standing with arms locked with her paramour. She was a beautiful blonde with a lovely smile. They made a nice couple. "And who is your little friend?"
"That's Raphtalia. My masseuse," Malty answered when Raphtalia seemed too tense to. Was she afraid of the vice-captain? "I've been meaning to speak to you, sir Dante. I realize my behavior was far from appropriate the other day. Please accept my sincere apologies."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Your apology is welcome but not needed. I may have overstepped, and you were well in your right to be upset. I believe I could have chosen a better timing as well."
Malty giggled. "You may be right. Could you point me to where I can find your companions? What were their names? Hammock and Ike? I'd like to extend my apology to them as well."
"Hammod and Ake, Your Highness." He cleared his throat. "Sir Hammod should be in the barracks, but I'm afraid you won't be able to reach Ake for the time being. I've given him some time off, and he's gone to visit his family in Riyute. He won't be back for another week."
Riyute Riyute Riyute, Malty thought, brows furrowed. From where do I know that name? Right! That stupid village Naofumi liked to frequent. Ugh, I still can't believe how Motoyasu lost against the dumb bird... A cold shiver ran down her spine. That's where the Wave had—no, will hit. How many people will die there? Do I warm them? Should I warn them? Will their blood be on my hands if I don't? What if—
"Malty! Malty!"
She got brought back to reality by a tug on her hair. Raphtalia was grasping one of her Royal Hairstrands with a small hand, tugging to get her attention. "Are you okay, Malty?"
"I... I'm fine. It's nothing." She forced a smile.
Mira was regarding her oddly but masked it quickly.
"So, Your Highness," the vice-captain said. "Since we've now cleared up that...misunderstanding. Have you perhaps reconsidered my offer?"
"I...have. And my answer remains the same. You're putting too much faith in me. I'm not fit to lead, least of all you and your men, and least of all into a fight. I wish you the best of luck. If you'll excuse me. I need to return to my rooms." She nodded and hurried away. She had to stop herself from running. Now who's the one being afraid of the outside world?
Her heart kept hammering in her chest until she was finally back in her rooms. She sat Raphtalia down, took a deep breath, and flopped onto her lounger. "That's better..." A long sigh escaped her after she gulped down a full glass of wine. "Now I need a massage. Lana!"
What do I care if some peasants find their untimely end? Malty thought, scowling into her pillows. They died the last time. They can die again. Not my problem. I'm not going to risk getting involved in this shit for the lives of some damn unimportant commoners. She repeated those thoughts again and again until she was completely convinced that it was the right decision. Calm spread through her, and she focused on enjoying the massage.
That night, she slept uneasily.
The next day, it was time for their first violin lesson after an abundant breakfast in the bathtub, and Malty was thankful for the distraction.
As instructed, Mala had procured two instruments for them.
"Oh, those are very nice violins," Mother Ralapha said as she inspected them. "Let's get started then."
First, they covered the basics, how the instrument worked. What the parts were called. How to tune it. How to maintain it. How to hold it. Then they moved onto the correct bowing technique. They started with playing the base tones in varying lengths, focusing on the technique. Once they got that down, they started using their left hands to modify the tones. Getting the hand position right was a pain and would take some practice to internalize.
The room was filled with mismatched notes as they practiced, and Malty grinned and giggled each time she saw a servant cringe, only to then praise their progress.
"Alright. That'll do for the first time."
"The time's already up?" Malty wondered. It couldn't have been more than half an hour.
"Yes. Did you have fun?"
"I...had," Malty said, surprised. "I guess time really flies when you enjoy yourself, huh?"
"Hmm-hm!" Raphtalia agreed, beaming.
"I'll be back tomorrow if you want."
"Yes please." Malty paid her, then the woman went on her way, only after protesting that it was too much money, of course. Honest and humble people are so strange...
Malty decided that they would practice—torture the servants—some more, then it was time for a little snack break, followed by a massage.
Do we join my father for dinner today? she wondered as she enjoyed Raphtalia's little fingers dancing across her skin. Or do I wait another day? Another walk in the gardens and risk running into that dumb vice-captain? Hmm... no.
"We'll go visit my friend Rellaya today," Malty informed her little masseuse. "She has a little sister about your age. I'm sure you'll get along splendidly." On a whim, she restyled Raphtalia's hair to match Rellaya's, as best as she could.
Raphtalia was less tense than yesterday when Malty picked her up and carried her out of her rooms. "Tomorrow, I'll give you a full tour of the castle."
"Okay."
Malty knocked.
"Yes?" Rellaya called from inside.
"It's Malty."
"Come in!"
Malty entered, grinning. Arriving with a Demi girl in her arm was certainly not what the others had expected, judging by their frowns. "Hello~" She set Raphtalia down on a seat next to Lirrelain, then went to greet Rellaya with a hug before taking a place next to her.
Malty shot Raphtalia a meaningful look.
"I'm Raphtalia," she said. "Hello."
"Lirrelain." The girl was still frowning.
"I'm Rellaya."
"She's my masseuse," Malty explained.
It didn't explain all that much, though.
This was a good idea, Malty thought after a while. They were all working on something, sewing, embroidering, crocheting, sometimes talking, sometimes sitting in comfortable silence. Rellaya shared the latest gossip. Lirrelain taught Raphtalia. The girl treated Raphtalia amicably, but sometimes a frown would cross her face, as if she was wondering why she had to play nice with a Demi. Or perhaps she was just confused why they had similar hairstyles today.
A stern look from Malty stopped that behavior, though, and the girls seemed to warm up to each other quickly.
It was quite the success. And when Malty carried Raphtalia out of her friend's rooms, her little adopted raccoon sister had a wide grin on her face and asked if they were going to visit them again soon.
"We will. Or perhaps I will invite them over. We've yet to do any tea parties, after all." A grave oversight that would need to be fixed soon and fast.
"Okay!"
With Raphtalia in such a good mood, Malty decided that it was time to finally join her father for dinner. Her masseuse tensed a little as Malty carried her to the royal dining hall, but it was a significant improvement to where they'd started.
"Malty!" Aultcray seemed ecstatic to see her, then his expression fell when he spotted Raphtalia.
Malty grinned. "Good evening, Father." She sat Raphtalia down before taking her seat in-between her raccoon masseuse and her father. "Are you alright?" She signaled for servants to bring them some food.
Aultcray snapped his mouth shut. "Yes, I... I hadn't expected any company."
"This is Raphtalia." Malty smiled sweetly, gesturing. "Raphtalia, this is my father the King, Aultcray Melromarc XXXII."
"Hello." Raphtalia waved.
So adorable...
Aultcray grunted. He warily eyed the Demi-girl before focusing on his meal.
Plates filled with steaming meat and vegetables were placed in front of them, and Malty didn't waste any time to dug in, Raphtalia following suit.
An awkward silence settled over them as they ate. Well, it was awkward for her father. Malty enjoyed it thoroughly, working hard to keep the smirk off her face and to not burst out giggling.
She was pleased to note that her lessons about proper eating etiquette had stuck. Raphtalia sat with her back straight, eating with measured movements and adequate speed. You could almost think she was actually Malty's sister. Aultcray's frown only deepened as he observed that, and Malty's grin widened.
"How are things with the Shield Hero?" Malty asked when she'd decided her father had suffered enough. "Any news?"
"Yes, indeed. He seems to have found himself some Demi-human companions. I suppose you're alike in that matter, aren't you?"
Malty grinned at the critical look he was sending her. "Demi-humans make for excellent companions...and masseuses." She reached over and caressed Raphtalia's ears, making the girl grin at her while she chewed. Aultcray nearly choked on his food.
A little giggle escaped Malty despite her best efforts. "So he's doing better? And you're not planning to hinder him, are you?"
"Of course not." Aultcray turned serious under her stare. "As long as he doesn't cause any more trouble, I won't care what he gets up to."
"That's good. We're going to need his help when the time comes."
"We'll have to agree to disagree regarding that."
Malty shrugged. "You'll see."
Despite Malty's teachings, Raphtalia still managed to smear her mouth with sauce, so, when they were done eating, Malty gently wiped her mouth clean. The servants cleared the table.
"Now, Father, would you care for a game of chess?"
"Of course." He took his spot opposite her and let the chess set bring, then went to set the board.
Malty maneuvered Raphtalia into her lap and hugged her, earning herself an incredulous look from her father. "Raphtalia, pawn to D4."
"Yes, Malty."
Aultcray heaved a heavy sigh before matching her opening.
Malty kept instructing Raphtalia to move the pieces while she hugged and cuddled her, occasionally tickling her and filling the dining hall with peals of adorable laughter. The girl was filling out nicely. Malty rested her head atop Raphtalia's and rubbed gently against her ears as she liked to do while thinking about what moves to make next. The fur had a very distinct smell to it. Unassuming but pleasant. Malty liked it very much.
She went so far as to press a kiss onto her little Demi-sister's head and, feeling especially silly, playfully bit her ears. Aultcray looked like he was close to fainting...or a mental breakdown.
Malty shamelessly took advantage of it.
"Checkmate," Raphtalia mumbled. She took the black king and laid it on the board, defeated.
"I win!" Malty exclaimed, laughing. " I mean, we win! Good job, Raphtalia."
"Didn't do anything." She giggled when Malty tickled her.
"I..." Aultcray seemed just as surprised. And embarrassed. "I was a little... distracted."
Malty giggled. "Another round?" She couldn't help herself and added, "And pay attention to the board this time, Father."
"Yes, Malty." He lost again. The third game, he won, though, having regained some composure.
"I think that's enough for tonight," Malty decided. Two out of three. This evening goes to me." Raphtalia is tired, so we'll retire now." It was as much an excuse as it was true. Though she'd tried to suppress it, the girl had yawned a few times, and Malty had found it irresistible to join in.
She maneuvered Raphtalia in her arms and stood. "Have a good night, Papa."
"I, yes. Sleep well, Malty." He looked truly exhausted.
The moment she was outside the dining hall, Malty broke out giggling. "That was fun, wasn't it?"
Raphtalia gave a tired hum, resting her head on Malty's shoulder.
When they entered her rooms, she sent the remaining servants away for the night. She really was tired. From violin practice to visiting Rellaya to carrying Raphtalia around to playing chess with her father, it had been a very exhausting day.
With sluggish movements, they slipped out of their clothes. She found herself too tired to bother with a nightgown, so they just collapsed into her bed, naked.
Raphtalia was asleep the moment her head hit the pillows, which, in her case, were warm, fleshy, and perfectly round and soft. Malty was almost envious.
Perhaps she'll wake me with a nice massage, she thought, cuddling her little raccoon masseuse, then followed her into dreamland.
OwO
If you want to get your mind blown by my unparalleled art skills, check out my drawing called "Checkmate" on my DeviantArt. ;)
Nightmares and a Wedding
My apologies that it took me ages to update this story. The structure of this and the following chapters gave me some trouble, and I've been undecided about it for a long while...
TheVillainess
Bodies lined the ravaged streets. So many, Malty had trouble finding space to place her feet. Her boots were soaked, creating a very unpleasant feeling with each step. At least the blood was warm.
Raphtalia whimpered, rigid in her arms, and Malty tightened her grip. Increased her speed. She needed to get out of there. She rounded a wooden house with a destroyed roof.
No, Malty thought in horror, staring down the alley. It looked exactly like the one she'd just left: endless rows of death and desolation, destroyed house after destroyed house, some burnt. She waded through the blood, stepped past body parts. Very rarely did she pass corpses that weren't human.
"You did this," a voice called, from the direction of where a man had been impaled on a fence.
"No."
"This is your fault," the dead man said.
"No!" Malty ran. Panic permeating her mind, she ran and ran. Her dress caught on something and ripped. She took a left turn. Again, she was greeted by the same alley, the same dead in the streets.
"You did this," a child whose left arm and leg were missing said, staring up with empty eyes from the sea of the dead.
Malty ran. She stumbled and crashed into the blood. "Raphtalia!"
The girl righted herself, her dress tinged in blood.
"Raphtalia." Malty reached with a hand, but Raphtalia took a step back.
"This is your fault." Raphtalia glared. "I hate you!" She turned and ran.
"No. Raphtalia! Raphtalia!" Malty made to give chase, but she got suddenly grasped by a skeletal hand around her left calf and crashed back into the puddle of blood. More hands grasped her, keeping her in place as she called out for Raphtalia again and again. She struggled with all she got but couldn't break free.
"You did this. This is your fault. You could have saved us, but you were too selfish. It's all your fault."
Malty shot up in her bed. She gasped for breath, her heart hammering in her ribcage. Just a dream. Just a stupid dream. She could still feel the skeletal hands holding her in place, the panic, the despair, the hopelessness.
"Malty?" Raphtalia asked sleepily. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. I'm fine." Malty let herself collapse back on the mattress, forcing herself to relax. She grabbed Raphtalia and drew her on top of her. "Go back to sleep, little sis."
"Okay..." Raphtalia was asleep a moment later, happily dozing on Malty's chest.
I don't care about those stupid commoners, she told herself over and over, caressing Raphtalia's ears. Yet, sleep wouldn't come. She stared up at the bed's canopy, not wanting to close her eyes and relive the disturbing images of her nightmare. The accusing eyes. Raphtalia staring at her with disgust. Running away.
Malty held her tighter. It's just a dumb dream. No one could possibly know. No one will take her away.
The sun dawned. Raphtalia woke. She raised her head off Malty's chest. Yawned and smiled sleepily.
Malty found it difficult to return the smile. "You like it here, don't you?"
"In bed?"
Malty grinned faintly. "No, here in the castle. With me."
"Yes! It's the best thing that happened to me since... since..." Her eyes grew distant. After a second, she snapped out of it. She hugged Malty's chest, smiling. The content hum was more answer than a thousand words.
Malty held her tight. "So if you could, you wouldn't leave?"
"Hm-m." Raphtalia shook her head no. Vehemently.
"Even if I did something bad. You wouldn't leave me?"
"Of course not! Sisters are supposed to stick together!" Raphtalia looked at her, grinning. "Silly."
Malty giggled. "Yes, I'm being silly. You'll stay with me forever."
Raphtalia nodded enthusiastically.
Malty smiled, calm spreading through her. She cuddled her little raccoon plushie for a little longer before calling for breakfast.
Malty successfully ignored those stupid thoughts and fell back into a familiar rhythm. She enjoyed massages. Played Chess and Rock Paper Scissors. Visited Rellaya. Practiced the violin. Raphtalia finally got her tour of the castle, and she even apologized to that knight she'd already forgotten the name of again. Aultcray was a bit more composed when they visited him for dinner. She didn't beat him at chess again, though.
"Malty, I wanted to get your input on something," he said one day while they played chess.
"Of course, father," Malty said and instructed Raphtalia what move to make. As always, the girl was situated in her lap. "What do you want to talk about?"
"The Waves. More specifically, our defense. The next Wave will hit in nearly two weeks. The plan is to let the Heroes handle it. The knights will be stationed in Castle Town and ready to move out wherever it'll hit. What do you think, Malty?"
Malty didn't think anything. Except that she knew where exactly the Wave would hit. This is my chance. Just tell him, she thought, heart hammering. You can save them all. Be a hero. Just this once.
"Malty? Are you well?"
"Yes, actually, I have some thoughts on the matter. If I may, Father?"
"Please."
"I think we should station our troops outside of Castle Town. It's doubtful the Wave will hit here, and even if it did, we could deal with it easily. So... I'd suggest somewhere a little outside. Riyute, do you know the village? That seems like a strategic point to station some knights." Even though everything she'd said was probably completely wrong, she finished with a confident smile.
"Riyute?" Aultcray looked puzzled. "Isn't that just some little farming village? Why there?"
Malty groaned inwardly, faltering for a second. "As I was saying. It offers a strategic position. And as you said, it's a farming village. We'd do well to protect our food supplies. Famine isn't something we can allow to happen in these difficult times."
Aultcray's frown deepened. "But we just passed the harvesting season. All our supplies are here in Castle Town. Hence why we can't leave it unprotected." His face darkened. "I've heard reports that the Shield Hero has been active in that village. Is that what this is about?"
"What? No no. Not at all. I didn't even know that," she lied smoothly, then took a sip of wine.
Aultcray hummed, skeptical. "How much did you have to drink, Malty? You seem...off. And your chess skills seem to have degenerated. Is something the matter? Talk to me, child."
"Nothing. I'm fine. Just think we should protect that village..."
"Hm. I'll take that into consideration." He didn't sound like he would.
Well, I tried my best, Malty thought on the way back to her rooms, carrying Raphtalia. It's not my fault no one listens. Not my fault at all.
It helped clear her conscience for a few days more. Then it was already time for Tolia's wedding.
Malty was very pleased—very pleased with herself—to note that Raphtalia barely showed any signs of apprehension as they left the castle. They'd done a little stroll around the castle walls yesterday to prepare her for it, and it had gone well.
It was a small entourage that left the gates that day. More than a few of her servants had decided to tag along. Malty was carrying Raphtalia, as always, both in especially pretty dresses, crimson and blue respectively. She'd done Raphtalia's hair with extra care today. Secured into thick braids that were graced by a dozen silver ringlets, they tumbled down her shoulders. Malty may have gone a bit overboard... But when it came to making sure her new and best and favorite sister looked pretty, no effort was too much.
They made it toward the Iron Square and the designated meadow without being robbed. People were already gathered there. A lot of people. Malty's mouth watered at all the foods she could make out from afar, stacked on tables in the shadow of the trees.
They approached, forming pairs. Blue-Eyes had come with Vyllia, much to the Demi-woman's pleasure. She wore a simple but pretty white dress with the odd purple highlight, the inverse of her fur color. Bald was accompanying Mala, much to the older woman's displeasure. She was constantly telling Bald just how silly he was, but he took it in stride and an amused grin on his face. Perhaps she was just apprehensive to be surrounded by so many Demi-humans. The knights wore armor and were armed, of course.
"Malty!" Tolia called and hurried over to greet them. Her wedding dress wasn't nearly as fancy as Malty's, but the aura of happiness radiating off her made her incredibly beautiful. "I'm so glad you could make it. And you must be Raphtalia. My mother told me all about you. She said you're a real prodigy with the violin."
Raphtalia gave an awkward giggle. "I'm not so sure about that…"
Tolia frowned.
Something on my dress? Malty wondered, self-conscious.
"Malty, where's your pendant?"
"My pendant?" Malty asked, a hand automatically reaching for it. But there was nothing on her chest. She felt her face heat up in embarrassment. How could I...? "I, I forgot—"
"Hey, it's no big deal." Tolia smiled gently. "You're here. That's what matters. Come come. Let me introduce you to everyone!"
Naturally, the people were eager to meet royalty. Demi-humans have some odd names, Malty thought, her head already spinning after a few. She gave up memorizing them shortly after.
Then someone introduced themselves and mentioned that they were from Riyute, and the world seemed to stand still.
Riyute Riyute Riyute, Malty thought, blood thumping in her ears, drowning out all other noise. Riy—I don't care about—ute. Don't care, don't care— Tolia must have noticed her discomfort and let her be, greeting other guests.
When Malty managed to curb her panic, the wedding was about to commence. It started with your typical sermon. The many many guests—there had to be at least 300, humans and Beast-men making out the minority—simply sat down on the grass. Malty and her entourage got "seats" on the front, of course. She resisted a grimace when her dress came in contact with the dirty ground.
Malty only half-listened as Father Bauley spoke, absentmindedly petting Raphtalia's tail while she let her gaze swipe across the nearby trees and bushes. There was a small lake a little further down the meadow. Did they perhaps baptize people there?
Malty had always hated it when her parents had taken her along to the Church to listen to the two-faced pope. In her opinion, it was a bunch of empty talk, and while she agreed with a lot of the Four Saints Faith's teachings, she couldn't bring herself to pay attention. That she hadn't managed to catch a lot of sleep last night wasn't helping either. Repeatedly, she had to resist the urge to yawn.
The sermon came to an end, and the wedding ceremony started. Tolia's to-be-wife, Micca, was a young human woman with dark hair and blue eyes. White suited her better than her lover.
They made their vows, staring into each other's eyes the whole time. They looked so incredibly happy and even choked up a few times as they got overwhelmed by their feelings.
When it finally got to the kiss, Malty also had tears in her eyes. Would she ever find someone to share such a wonderful bond with? Who would want her, after all? The Drunken Princess? Why would anyone love her for something more than her beauty or station? When not even her family truly cared for her, who would?
Applause sounded, and she dutifully joined in, although without much enthusiasm. Afterward, people rose and, one-by-one, approached the newlyweds to offer congratulations.
Malty kept her words short as she shook hands with Tolia and Micca, and it was only due to years of practice that she managed to keep her true thoughts hidden behind a friendly smile. They were oblivious to it.
Malty hated them. Despised them. Envied them. The love between the happy pair was as obvious as being hit by a fire spell in the face. It was hard coming up with any reason for why things weren't as perfect as they seemed. Clearly, they simply loved each other that much. There wasn't anything to gain from this union. Micca was probably sacrificing a lot by associating with Demis like this—Malty hadn't seen any of the human bride's family around. And neither did Tolia. She was sure that some Demi-human purists disapproved of the marriage. That they married nonetheless spoke of the authenticity of their love.
How dare they be so blissfully happy when I'll never have something like that! Malty fumed, letting a bit of anger show on her face as she turned away from the newlyweds. If anyone ever married Malty, it would be for political gain. Mother would probably use the first chance to get rid of her when she returned. It's not fair!
She felt like stomping her feet as she walked over toward the tables stacked with food, Raphtalia in her arms. Lost in her despair, she'd picked her up without thinking.
"Malty?" Raphtalia asked. "Are you okay?"
"It's fine. I'm fine." Forcing a smile for her adopted sister, she inspected the assorted food. Colorful salads, on this table. "What would you like?"
Raphtalia thought for a moment, finger on her lips, then pointed. Malty didn't even manage to grin at her cuteness. She sat Raphtalia down, and they helped themselves to some food. When people came to talk to her, she brushed them off with a few curt words.
Behind her, she could make out Bald's deep voice amidst the chatter of the crowd as he recited one of his silly stories, eliciting laughter and giggles. It seemed even her bodyguards didn't care enough to actually do their fucking job.
Scowling, Malty found some alcoholic beverages further down in the shadow of a spikeberry tree. It tasted strange and bitter, and she had no idea what it was made out of, but anything was welcome. She grimaced past the distaste.
No one cares about me, Malty thought, bitter. And no one ever will. It was so obvious. Everyone only pretended, because of what it would gain them. Rellaya only pretended because it gained her money and status. Her servants, Bald and Blue-Eyes, were duty-bound to appease her. Her father mistrusted her, just like Mother. Raphtalia only appeared to like Malty because she'd rescued the girl and was giving her a luxurious life. Because her well-being depended on it. Sooner or later, she was going to turn against her, just like in her dream. I won't allow it! She's mine! My prize! I'll put a slave crest on her chest or… or lock her in a cage! I can't—
Malty exhaled shakily, steadying herself against the nearby tree. She reached for the cross pendant that wasn't there, then placed a hand on her chest to try calm her racing heart. A sudden sob shook her body, and she placed her head in her hands, leaning with her back against the tree trunk.
"Malty?" Raphtalia's hesitant voice reached her. "B-big sis?" The girl was sitting in the grass next to her with a bowl of fruit salad in her lap, looking up worriedly. "Malty, you…" She trailed off and averted her eyes.
Malty schooled her features. She groaned. Ugh, that damn peasant brew is messing with my head. Why did I drink so much of that anyway? I mean— She squeaked as, suddenly, images of her nightmare flashed in front of her mind, and she dropped her glass.
"Malty? Princess?" someone was calling her. It was Tolia, from the sound of it.
That stupid little— Malty cut herself off. She bent down and picked Raphtalia up, making the girl drop her bowl and squeak.
Malty stumbled away from the voice calling her. She really couldn't stare in that stupidly happy face right now. Saints knew what she'd do or say.
"Princess?"
She bumped into Blue-Eyes. "We're leaving!" she said.
"Already?"
How dare you question me! she thought but bit back a snapped reply. "I'm unwell. Now do your job and escort me back to the castle!"
"Of course, Your Highness."
A small commotion broke out as her servants got called and made aware of the new development, making apologies to the other guests.
Malty didn't wait for them all to gather and marched off. Hurrying after her, they soon caught up. It was a wonder she didn't trip on the way back to the castle. She really felt quite unwell, uncomfortable emotions churning in her stomach and chest, making it hard to breathe. Her heart hammered like crazy the whole way. She picked up the odd comments of her servants about how they had, surprisingly, enjoyed the whole ordeal—and it was obvious they were sad to leave early, even if they didn't say it.
"I, for one, am glad we got out of there," Mala said. "Way too many…foreign people. Who knows what they do for a living?"
It cheered Malty up a little. She didn't slow down, as if being chased by monsters of the Wave. The whole time, images of the stupid couple flashed through her head, taunting her. Her lungs were aching when she finally arrived at her rooms in the castle.
The familiarity granted her a flicker of comfort, but she still felt as if she was about to completely lose her mind. A bath was in order, and a cold one at that. Her servants asked three times whether she'd meant that. She never took cold baths.
Malty squeaked and gasped as she, in one go, jumped into the water, not caring that she splashed the stone floor in the washroom—and poor Raphtalia standing there. The cold bit her skin and drowned her of warmth. For a second, she thought her hammering heart had stopped, but then it kept beating, then slowed down, but not too much. Tears came to her eyes, and she didn't suppress a sob escaping her. The sadness passed after another few moments. The cold didn't hurt quite so bad anymore.
Saints, I'm a mess, Malty thought. She closed her eyes, breathed a sigh of relief, and made to heat the water. Once it was at an acceptable temperature, she had Raphtalia join her in the bathtub.
"Are you feeling better?" the girl asked. Her big, innocent eyes were filled with concern.
"Yes, thank you. Now give me a massage."
Raphtalia grinned. "Yes, Malty!"
Letting her head droop forward, Malty released pleased groans as she let the girl knead the tension out of her shoulders. She felt foolish for how she'd let doubt and negativity consume herself. Someone to love her? She didn't need that. She never had, and she never would. Love was for fools, anyway. And neither did she care for the lives of these dumb peasants. She never had, and she never would. People always died. It was the nature of things.
What I care about is myself, she thought. My comfort. My luxury. "Mala!" she called, eyes closed.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Go to Rellaya and her sister and invite them over for tea."
"Of course, Your Highness."
TheVillainess
The long-overdue tea party turned out to be a great success, and Malty found herself completely absorbed in the fun.
Bald and Blue-Eyes had volunteered to act as wine/tea butlers, and with their silliness, they were practically born for the roles.
"Some more tea, Miss Raphtalia?" Bald asked, speaking in a high-pitched voice.
"Yes please!" Raphtalia barely managed to get the word out in-between giggles.
Malty burst out laughing. Saints, I'll never get used to this, she thought, wheezing for breath. The amusement was heavenly, though, and the two knights practically preened because of their success.
In contrast to Bald's "female" voice, Blue-Eyes was talking in some odd accent Malty had no idea where it originated from or whether it was even real. It was hilarious nonetheless.
Raphtalia and Lirrelain were talking about this and that, both overexaggerating the poshness of their tone and etiquette. Especially in Raphtalia's case, it was beyond ridiculous.
Malty laughed harder. She knew she was way beyond drunk, but hardly cared. Blue-Eyes dutifully refilled her teacup—with Seaetto wine, of course—whenever she waved for him. It was evening, so they had dinner during their tea party as well. In her drunken mind, that made perfect sense.
"I completely forgot," Rellaya said during a rare reprieve of laughter. "How was the wedding, Malty?"
Malty pushed past the irritating feelings and giggled. "It was a real bore. Hence why I left early."
"I wouldn't have expected much else…considering the company."
"Yeah…" Malty stared at her friend. Fuck, she's beautiful. Maybe we can— She grimaced and averted her eyes when she remembered that they were only friends now. Thankfully, Bald distracted her a second later by balancing a teacup plus saucer on his bald head.
Sadly, like all good things, it had to come to an end eventually. It was dark outside when the laughter fully died down and everyone suddenly seemed lost in thought, though Malty doubted very much that the others had such troubled minds as hers.
The thoughts wouldn't leave her alone. When something touched her foot beneath the table, she shot up with a panicked squeak, images of skeleton fingers flashing through her mind. The rattling of cutlery filled the silence.
"Malty?" Rellaya asked. "Are you alright?
"Yes." Malty smiled, fighting the sudden feeling of vertigo. She grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come, Rellaya. Why don't you...show me how those dresses are coming along?" Not waiting for an answer, she dragged her to her room, proud that she was able to keep her drunken stumbling to a minimum.
Rellaya, frowning, went along with it.
It was only after she closed the door behind them that Malty realized that Rellaya hadn't brought her dresses, and that her excuse was very obviously just that. An excuse.
Fuck it, Malty thought, grabbed Rellaya's head, and kissed her.
"Malty?!" Rellaya gasped.
"Just this once. Please."
"Okay."
Malty kissed her hungrily, groped her, enjoyed the sounds she was eliciting. Sweet sweet lips. Hmm… soft. She tried guiding them toward her bed, but bumped into one of her wardrobes instead. She giggled.
Kiss broken, Rellaya shot her a worried look.
Malty grasped her head and pushed her downward. "Lick me," she rasped out.
Rellaya obeyed. She slid her hands along Malty's thighs and pulled down her panties with practiced ease, then burrowed her head underneath the crimson skirt.
"Fuck yes." Malty's eyes fluttered shut at the first stroke of her lover's tongue. It's been too long… She grasped one of her tits through her dress and squeezed, stimulating her hardening nipple. Her hips rocked against Rellaya's head with insatiable want.
She groaned and moaned but had enough awareness left to keep quiet and slap a hand in front of her mouth to muffle the sounds.
When she came, it was pure relief. A wave of pleasure, then calm, washed over her, leaving behind a blissful absence of thoughts. She relished it for a long while, just standing there with a big smile on her face.
When she opened her eyes, she saw that Rellaya was sitting at her vanity, making sure her appearance was immaculate. Malty thought about following her example, but why bother? She was so sleepy, and the bed was right there, looking incredibly inviting.
"Malty?" Rellaya asked.
"You can leave." Giving her friend a dismissive hand gesture, Malty stumbled toward her bed, then crawled onto the mattress, fully clothed. Rellaya was saying something, but her mind was already drifting off to sleep.
TheVillainess
Malty jerked awake, and a shrill shriek pierced the silence of the moon-lit bedroom, echoing about. She snapped her mouth shut. Images of her nightmare fresh on her mind, she looked left and right frantically, looking for the monsters, searching for Raphtalia.
Then she realized that the girl was lying on top of her, that she was even hugging her, and Malty burst out crying, collapsing back into the mattress.
"Malty?"
Her sobs were sounds of pure despair. Her head hurt as if she'd been kicked by a Filolial, she had trouble breathing, pain contracting her chest, and her heart was hammering like never before in her life. Illogical panic and fear haunted her, the chorus of the dead accusing her echoing in her ears over and over again.
Make it stop, Malty thought, rubbing a hand against her forehead to try alleviate the discomfort. Saints, make it stop! I don't want to suffer anymore. Please. I'll do anything. Just make it stop... Her patheticness made her cry harder, tears flowing down her cheeks.
Something touched her hair, then her face. Tiny fingers brushed across her wet skin. It was oddly comforting.
"It's okay, Malty," Raphtalia murmured. "Everything's okay."
Lies, she thought. You'll leave sooner or later. Don't lie. Nonetheless, she nodded. And when the girl drew Malty's head against her, hugging her, she didn't resist and cried even harder, her whole body shaking.
The circumstances were anything but ideal, but the way those fingers combed through her hair and made her scalp tingle was simply perfect. Somehow, it was all Malty had ever wanted. She calmed. Focused on it. The small arms holding her. The scent enveloping her.
"Nightmare?" Raphtalia asked gently, in a way as if she already knew.
Malty nodded.
"Do you… do you want to tell me?"
Malty swallowed thickly. "Okay."
TheVillainess
Cliffhanger! :3
Chapter 12
"I've had this… nightmare for weeks now, and it's not stopping," Malty said in a teary voice. It sounded pathetic, as if she was wailing, but she hardly cared. She continued to tell her about the destroyed village, the dead people accusing her, and that Raphtalia was there with her. She left out the part where the girl ran away.
All the while, Malty let herself be held, talking into Raphtalia's nightgown. Breathing in the comforting scent. It felt good to confide in her, and she was almost tempted to say more. To tell her about how she'd died and come back. About the things she could never tell anyone. But she was lucid enough to not do that.
Malty carefully lifted her head up to look at Raphtalia, anxiously waiting for her judgment. Whereas the tension had now mostly left Malty, it seemed to have transitioned to her. Malty's eyes had adjusted well enough to the dark to see that Raphtalia's were wideopen, and that she was staring off into space. Malty placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Raphtalia? Hey, say something." She swallowed, heart rate speeding up.
Raphtalia started and gasped, looking around wide-eyed.
She'll hate me now, Malty thought, feeling like crying again. Her head was still pounding like crazy, eyes aching.
"I dream of the Waves too. T- the Wave." The words were spoken so faintly that Malty nearly missed them. "When my… m-my parents…" Tears were flowing down her cheeks.
Malty hugged her. Oh, she thought. I'm an idiot. She returned the favor and held and caressed Raphtalia as she told her about her own nightmares and how her parents had sacrificed themselves to save her from the Wave monsters, mumbling the words into Malty's chest with a shaky voice.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, she thought, clutching her little raccoon sister tightly, pressing kisses in-between her ears. If I'd come back earlier. I would have saved your parents. I would have saved all of them. I would have. I promise. She knew it was a lie, but it made her feel a little better, and if there was one thing Malty was good at it was lyingand convincing herself that it was the truth.
For what felt like an eternity, they comforted each other, held each other, told each other that it'd all be okay. The crying subsided and came back in cycles until they eventually fell asleep.
- TheVillainess -
The next morning, Malty felt heavenly. Her eyes were aching faintly and there was still an uncomfortable throbbing in her head, but in comparison to before, it was pure heaven.
When Raphtalia awoke, they shot each other smiles, tinged with a hint of sadness but mostly hope and optimism, and continued to cuddle for a long while. After last night, there seemed to be some sort of bond between them.
Mala came to check on them, but Malty sent her off, telling her that she was fine and not to be bothered. Apparently, a guard had been alerted by her outburst last night and had even entered the bedroom. In her despair, she hadn't even noticed.
With Mala gone, Malty continued what she'd done before: gazing into Raphtalia's eyes, as they lay facing each other, their heads resting on her pillow.
Malty had never studied them in such detail. Among the lovely sea of rosy-red, she could make out specks of brown, and even a little bit of crimson. There seemed to be a little world of its own hidden there.
Malty placed a hand on Raphtalia's cheek, and the girl closed her eyes, the smile on her lips widening. A happy tear slipped down her skin as she exhaled shakily.
Good, Malty thought, her heart warming with joy. This bond is very good. Now it'll be even harder for her to leave. She grimaced, feeling ashamed for her selfish thoughts, and averted her eyes, her hand falling off Raphtalia's cheek.
"Hmm? Malty?"
"I…" Malty tried to make sense of her feelings. "I haven't told you everything last night."
Raphtalia only nodded, no judgment, waiting patiently for her to speak.
"In my dream… The village, I know where that is. And… I'm very sure that the next Wave will hit there."
Raphtalia blinked. "Okay."
She believes you, Malty thought. The apprehension she'd felt bled away. Just like that. How… naive. Awwwwww… She shook those silly thoughts off and resisted the urge to pat Raphtalia's head. "I know not to ignore my dreams… because it was a dream that has let me to sent Blue-Eyes to rescue you."
Raphtalia grinned.
"So… do you think we should help that village from my dream?"
"I… I don't know…"
"I don't say we go there to fight the Wave," Malty said hurriedly, and Raphtalia relaxed. "But we could warn them, I guess." Whether it was fear of simple self-preservation, Malty was pleased with her reaction.
"Yes. That makes sense."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"But before that…" Malty grinned. "We should cuddle some more." She promptly hit Raphtalia with a lunging cuddle attack. And tickles. Many, many tickles.
"And have breakfast!" Raphtalia gasped out in-between giggles and happy tears.
- TheVillainess -
Her servants had looked at her oddly when she'd told them that they'd go on a little excursion today, but had promptly scurried off and readied things to her wishes.
Bellies full and with enough proviant packed to last them a few daysin her good mood, she'd even decided to not pack any wine-Malty and Raphtalia enjoyed the voyage across the countryside. They had been blessed with a cloudless sky, so Malty had decided for an open carriage to fully relish the wonderful weather, their hair fluttering in the wind. Of course, a roofed carriage was riding behind hers, just in case. Her supplies had been stored there. A third carriage, this one also without a roof and of a more plain design, was filled with knights.
Malty was cuddling Raphtalia in her lap, occasionally bouncing her a little whenever they hit a bump in the dirt road that would lead them all the way to Riyute. Beside them, idyllic scenery passed by. The smell was, at times, not all that great, but it was a small price to pay. She got used to it quickly.
Raphtalia didn't show any signs of apprehension. She was giggling and laughing and pointing left and right, talking with excitement in her voice. She even told Malty a little about how things had been back in her village. A farming village, too. In return, Malty regaled her with whatever tidbit or story she knew about the lands they passed and the monsters inhabiting them. After all, she'd traversed some of it in her past life.
No monsters neared them. And even if they had, she had full confidence in Bald and Blue-Eyes, both flanking the small caravan atop Filolials, to deal with it without a problem. With her sudden choice to travel, it wasn't like anyone could have planned an ambush.
Malty had more fun than she would have expected, and she was almost saddened when they arrived at Riyute.
She let the carriages stop at the town's center and couldn't help but think about how she'd once arrived here, and how that ridiculous race had taken place. Whoever came up with that idea again? Probably Motoyasu.
Malty instructed the knights to gather the villagers, then she led Raphtalia onto the elevated platform. The girl seemed very nervous, so Malty gave her hand a squeeze and caressed her ears until a grin formed on her face. Cute cute cute… A tap on her shoulder, courtesy to Blue-Eyes, alerted her of the fact that a large crowd had formed, waiting impatiently.
"Thank you." Showtime, she thought and put a confident smile on her face, even if the sorry lot of stinky peasants wasn't any reason for delight.
"Citizens of Riyute!" Malty announced. "I am Malty S Melromarc, the first Princess of Melromarc." When was the last time I introduced myself like that? It feels so odd. "I have come here to warn you. The next Wave of Catastrophe will assail us very soon. And Riyute will be in its epicenter. You'll all be in direct danger. In grave danger." She let that statement hang in the air for the moment. "But do not despair. Thanks to the Heroes and the Dragon Hourglass, we know of the exact time, to the second, when the monsters of the Wave will arrive. So, when that dark hour strikes, take your loved ones and your livestock and make for the nearby city of Loskred. You'll be sheltered and safe there for the duration of the Wave. And once the Heroes and knights have defeated the nightmares of the Wave, you can return to your homes. It shouldn't cost you more than a workday.
A small price to pay for your lives, I'd wager. Heed my warning and help Melromarc not suffer a single casualty this time. Thank you." Malty finished with a smile and a nod, quite pleased with her performance. It was a wonder what half a good night of sleep and some excessive cuddling had done for her state of mind.
The villagers were, naturally, shocked. A steady stream of murmurs and despairing moans could be heard from the crowd.
Now that wasn't so hard, was it? She felt like a weight equal to the Shield Hero's fat Filolial had been lifted off her shoulders.
"And what about our homes? Will the knights defend our village?"
Malty frowned. Were they really concerned about a bunch of decrepit wooden buildings when their lives were at stake? She hadn't known peasants were that stupid. Raphtalia was equally confused as she was, anxiously biting her lower lip. Malty watched, helpless and not just a little repulsed, as the peasants argued, one more uncivilized than the next.
"Right! We can't just abandon our livelihood."
"My mother isn't fit to travel!"
"Maybe we should stay and assist the knights in the fight against the Wave!"
"Yeah!"
"Are you mad?" some woman yelled. "Let's just do as the Princess says and leave!"
"Silence, you old-"
"That's enough!" a firm voice brought an end to the argument, more like bickering. It was a tall middle-aged man who stood with more confidence and not-quite-so-shabby clothes. People made room for him, apparently their leader.
"Your Highness." He bowed. "I thank you for the warning. My name is Archard. I speak for this town. If I may ask a question?"
Malty gestured for him to continue.
"You claim that our village will be at the ep- the center of the Wave. How do you know this, Your Highness?"
"The magicians at court have determined this after studying the last Wave." She'd not expected to be questioned, but the lie slipped easily from her tongue. "I will send one of them to inform you of the exact time so that you may plan accordingly." Shouldn't be too hard to bribe one of them.
Archard nodded. "Please do. In the meantime, I trust that you brought a crystal ball documenting the magicians' findings?"
Really? Malty thought, carefully hiding her irritation. It's not so unreasonable to assume, I suppose. "I don't. Since this only affects one village, I didn't feel it necessary. As I said, I'll send a court magician to answer all your questions. For now, my word will need to suffice."
"Will it, though?"
Malty could hardly believe it. This… this blatant disrespect. Maybe I should have dressed in my armor. I bet he wouldn't be so bold had I my sword strapped to my hip. "Are you calling me a liar, speaker?"
"I would not dare, Your Highness." The man bowed, as if apologizing. "Riyute may not be the most significant town, but we do receive the odd news via crystal ball on occasion. We have all witnessed the trial. Heard the… laughter."
Fuck, Malty thought. She scowled. "Yes, and have you heard of the second trial, where I explained everything? Under the Slave Crest, no less!"
This earned her a few laughs from the crowd. Mocking laughs.
"A useless drunk is still a useless drunk, confessed under the Curse or not!"
Who said that?! Malty let her piercing gaze swipe across the crowd.
"Yeah! Why should we believe you care even a smidge for us peasants when you laughed at that girl's demise!"
Had they talked to Naofumi about his version of the events? She knew he'd been here, perhaps even was right now. They definitely hadn't received the correct versions of her trial.
"You just want us to abandon our home for some petty game! Steal our things!"
"Ha! We're not so stupid as you think us to be!"
Curse you! Malty thought, gritting her teeth. You damn, ungrateful, insignificant, filthy peasants! Maybe you deserve to die, after all!
"Yeah! Take your pet and go home, Princess!"
A sort of enraged growl escaped past her clenched teeth. Her head was throbbing with intense anger like it hadn't in ages. If I didn't know your village would meet its end soon, I'd burn it down myself!
The damage was done now, and more accusations and insults got thrown her way. Even a ball of something brown-shit or dirt-got hauled toward her and landed at her feet. One of her knights drew his sword. The others followed suit. Blood would flow if things continued like this, and Malty didn't feel like stopping them.
"Stop! Stop it! Stop! " It was Raphtalia's shrill scream that pierced and halted the escalating situation. "You need to stop and listen !"
Surprisingly, many people halted to look at her, though it was probably more due to astonishment than anything.
"You need to listen to Malty! She only wants to help !"
"And who are you, little girl?"
"I'm…" Raphtalia faltered as more and more people stared and frowned at her.
There she is, Malty thought. There's the strong will I knew was inside of you. Smiling gently, she placed a hand on Raphtalia's shoulder and gave her a comforting squeeze.
The girl collected herself. "I'm Raphtalia. From Luralona!" She swallowed as a wave of nervous murmurs emanated from the crowd.
Malty gave her another squeeze. "I was there. During the first Wave. I lost everything! M-my family and…" She took a few seconds to regain her breath. "We weren't so lucky to receive warning. So you need to listen to Malty… and leave! You can always rebuild your houses, but you cannot rebuild people…"
A shiver ran down Malty's spine. It was such a simple yet indisputable truth. The villagers knew it as well, having fallen completely silent now. Shifting from foot to foot, apprehensive.
Malty felt her lips twitch with the urge to grin. Who knew that it would be her wonderful little masseuse who'd sway those peasants in the end? She'd need to think of some special reward for her when they-
"So listen to Malty," Raphtalia said, not having to yell anymore to make her voice carry across the gathering. "She knows. She saved me because of her dreams. And now she'll save you. Trust her and do as she says."
Malty's smile fell off her face.
"A dream?!"
"She's just a charlatan!"
"I knew it!"
"Crazy!"
Malty picked up Raphtalia. "We're leaving!" she ordered her knights as she hurried toward the carriage.
Thankfully, the agitated villagers weren't stupid enough to try halt her exit.
Well, I tried my best, Malty thought, eyes on a distant forest, Raphtalia's ears tickling her chin. They'd left behind the village long
ago. It's not my fault if they don't listen. I did more than they deserved anyway. Stupid peasants…
"I'm sorry, Malty," Raphtalia said softly. "I know that was a stupid thing to say. I don't know why I did that. Sorry…"
"Shh. It's okay." Malty held her closer and brushed her fingers across the back of Raphtalia's head in a gentle caress. "They wouldn't have believed us anyway. You tried your best. I'm not mad at you."
"Okay." Raphtalia nodded faintly, relaxing against her, but not completely.
Malty really couldn't care less what those peasants did. She wasn't even sure why she'd gotten so enraged at their refusal to listen. But well, for how they'd upset Raphtalia, she hated them.
"Is there something else we can do?" Raphtalia asked.
"No. We did what we could. Now it's up to them whether they listen or not. We did our part."
"Okay."
The guilt or whatever it was she'd felt was gone now. And yet, the journey back to the castle was spent in silence, mostly. A far cry from the fun they'd had before.
- TheVillainess -
At least her nightmares stopped. Irritatingly, her thoughts kept drifting back to what had happened in the village. Often times, Malty would find herself staring at her armor at the wall, wondering how things would have gone had she worn it. Should she have done something different? Could she have succeeded if she'd approached the situation with more finesse? Perhaps she should have planned a scheme, rather than take the direct approach? She knew that she hadn't given her all-she'd just wanted to be done with it and never be bothered by those pesky thoughts again-and that knowledge ate away at her. She was a perfectionist, after all. Defeat stung, cause by stupid peasants or not.
She could tell that Raphtalia was having thoughts of a similar notion. The girl didn't say anything, but sometimes, there was this aura of sadness, of disappointment, of guilt, around her. It gnawed at Malty, and she repeatedly found herself telling the girl that she'd not done anything wrong. It didn't appear to have any positive effects.
When Mother Ralapha came by for violin practice, Malty made sure that she knew that her sudden exit from the marriage had been due to an upset stomach. Mother Ralapha didn't appear all that convinced, but when Malty mentioned drinking that odd-tasting alcoholic beverage, the suspicion vanished. Violin practice wasn't nearly as fun as it had been before, so Malty decided to pause that for now. Maybe she just couldn't bear to look at Mother Ralapha and be reminded of her stupidly-happy daughter, though…
"Malty," her father said one day during dinner. "I've heard you visited that village. Riyute. May I ask what your business was there?"
"You may." Malty cut, shoved a piece of meat into her mouth, and chewed, almost viciously.
Aultcray gave her a flat look. Beside her, Raphtalia was eating quietly, head down.
"I'm sorry, father. I… I just went there to warn them about the Wave.
They didn't listen, of course."
Aultcray hummed. "So this wasn't about the Shield Hero?"
She had the urge to roll her eyes and didn't resist. "No. He wasn't there, as far as I could tell." Another missed opportunity, her mind chastised her, completely unhelpfully.
"Then why? What's so special about that village?"
Malty could only shrug helplessly. "I don't know." She sighed. "Call it an inkling…"
"I see."
She wondered if she could ask her father for a royal decree, to just make those damn peasants obey her, but after their past interactions, she was doubtful he would grant it. Her sulking wasn't exactly a thing that inspired confidence…
The already awkward dinner turned even more awkward after that. She suffered through the silence, then excused herself before he could ask her for a game of chess.
- TheVillainess -
The next day, as Malty found herself, once again, staring at her armor with a dejected Raphtalia by her side, she became overwhelmed by this need… to just do something. As if the walls of her room were trapping her, and she needed to get out.
So she did the only sensible thing. She relaxed in the gardens. Rellaya had been all too happy to tag along, though Lirrelain was absent. Apparently, their parents had returned and taken that burden off Rellaya. Raphtalia wasn't too happy about it, judging by how she pouted and her ears almost flattened against her head.
Malty pushed past this bad feeling in her stomach and instead focused on the lovely weather, the sun warming her skin, the pleasant smell of the flowery air.
Securing a private corner in the gardens had been no trouble at all, and soon enough, Malty was able to feel the heavenly warmth of the sun on her whole body.
Hmmm… This was long overdue, she thought, completely relaxedon her lounger. Raphtalia was massaging her calves. I really was getting too pale. She blinked her eyes open to look down past her perfect breasts and toward her stomach. Her wonderful flat stomach. It was a miracle she hadn't gotten fat with how much she'd been indulging in the past weeks. Well, of course, I haven't.
Raphtalia, on the other hand, had put some healthy weight onto her body, a far cry from how emaciated she'd been in the beginning.
Malty wiggled her toes, and her masseuse picked up on her command well enough, shifting her small and talented fingers onto Malty's feet. She gave a pleased hum when those tiny thumbs brushed over her soles, tickling faintly, but very good indeed, and offered Raphtalia a smile and a lazy, playful wave with her fingers.
Raphtalia's lips formed into a grin, but the happiness didn't really reach her face.
Malty reached to the side to grab her wine goblet and took a refreshing gulp. "Ahh…"
A giggle sounded to her right.
"What?" Malty asked, facing Rellaya, who'd situated herself in the shadow of a thick hedge.
"Just…" Rellaya frowned, her fingers frozen, then shook her head, and resumed her crocheting-something black that Malty thought could be underwear. "It's nothing."
"Hmm-hm. Why did you say Lirrelain isn't here again?"
"Mother collected her earlier."
"Yes, yes. I know. But why? Doesn't she live here?"
"No," Rellaya said. "My parents are merchants. Lirrelain usually travels with them to learn the trade. Just… not on the more dangerous travels."
"Ah…" Malty took a sip, then placed her half-empty goblet back on her snack-and-wine table. She leaned back against her lounger's backrest, drew her straw hat deeper to fully shade her face, and relaxed, enjoying the foot massage. Birds were chirping nearby.
"When will she be back?" Raphtalia asked.
"Not for a while," Rellaya answered. "But I couldn't tell. A few weeks."
"Oh…"
Malty found herself frowning. "Didn't you just say that they don't take her on the more dangerous travels?"
"Yes. Why?"
"You know that the Wave is in two days, right?" Malty ignored the uneasy feeling in her stomach.
Rellaya snorted softly. "Oh, they didn't leave Castle Town yet. My parents just returned, so they'll be selling and buying now. And Lirrelain now has the pleasure of partaking."
"I see…"
"She's staying with them in their townhouse," Rellaya told Raphtalia. "Frankly, we were both glad to get out of each other's hair. There's only so long we can spend time together before it becomes… an
irritation."
Malty chuckled. "I get what you mean." Her threshold when it came to Melty was a lot lower, though. As in, it didn't get much lower than that.
Rellaya sighed. "I'm just glad to be out of that business. Way too strenuous with little reward."
And that's why we're friends, Malty thought. We can both appreciate efficient laziness.
A comfortable silence settled over them. Malty nearly dozed off.
"You know," Rellaya said, then bit back a giggle. "I heard the most ridiculous rumor yesterday."
"Oh. Do tell."
"It was from Harriel, one of the thread traders I buy from, so I'm not sure how authentic she is, but well…"
"Yes?" Malty asked.
She claimed that you've been to some farming village, I forgot the name, and told them that they should abandon their homes because you'd had a dream about them being killed in the Wave." She giggled, but her amusement died quickly when neither Malty nor Raphtalia joined in. "That… that's not true. Right, Malty?"
Malty lifted her straw hat to peek at Raphtalia and pursed her lips. As expected, the girl's posture was dejected with guilt. She sighed. "It's true… Sadly. I wish I'd never gone there."
"Oh."
Malty chose not to elaborate, and Rellaya didn't ask further.
"I hope I… haven't upset you by bringing that up."
"Of course not," Malty lied. "But let's talk about something else." She had trouble following the conversation as Rellaya told her more about her family and how she'd become a seamstress.
She was thankful for the straw hat hiding the worry that must have been evident on her face. How she chewed her lips. This sucks so bad, was all she could think. Now that she'd gone to that village and her warnings had been ignored, she was even more fucked. No matter how she thought about it, she was fucked.
If the village got assaulted during the Wave-as she knew it wouldand people died, would they blame her for it? Would they say that she should have done more? Would the survivors hold a grudge and perhaps try to harm her? Would Raphtalia's guilt consume the girl completely, when she realized that people had indeed died?
Especially that last one made Malty a little nauseous and her heart rate quicken. My poor Raphtalia… Hasn't she suffered enough? Would the girl revert to the state she'd arrived in? That just wasn't acceptable. But what could Malty do now that wouldn't make the situation worse yet again? She was rather good at that…
"Malty? Malty?" Rellaya's voice reached her, seeming distant.
"Yes?"
"Nothing. You didn't react to anything I said."
"Oh, my apologies. Just lost in thought." Malty sat up. "Let's get back inside before I develop a sunburn." It was a bad excuse-a bit of magic and her skin would be flawless again-but no one questioned her, of course, dutifully helping her dress and carrying her things back to her rooms. Rellaya stayed in the garden.
Malty's mood was now well and truly ruined, and the loss of warmth, now that she was back in her rooms, only amplified that feeling of helplessness. Raphtalia wasn't doing much better. Even when Malty reminded her that, after the Wave, she'd have the opportunity to meet up with Rifana during the feast, it barely cheered her up.
Somehow, Malty managed to make it through the afternoon and evening without going completely mad or making a drunken fool out of herself. She and Raphtalia talked very little and didn't join her father for dinner. It was almost a relief when they got to retire for the day. After many many doubts and cuddling her little adopted sister, she miraculously managed to fall asleep.
She didn't have any nightmares, but the sleep wasn't all that good either.
The next day, her heart was practically hammering the moment she blinked her eyes open. The Wave was tomorrow afternoon. Time was ticking down. Every second passing by sent another pang of dread and unease through her.
I'm going insane, Malty thought repeatedly, staring at her armor on the wall. Completely insane.
As she and Raphtalia were having a solemn breakfast with Bald and Blue-Eyes, a knock sounded on her door.
Malty flinched, as if Death itself was there to get her. Maybe it was Death, indeed. For as Mala answered the door, none other than the vice-captain and his two companions walked into her rooms.
"Your High-"
Malty shot up in her chair, grasped her wine goblet, and hurled it. It crashed against the wall and the glass shattered with deafening volume, wine splashing across the stone. Everyone cringed, then stood frozen. The vice-captain was frowning, one of his companions had raised his hands above his head as if to shield himself, and the other had drawn his sword out a few inches but halted. Raphtalia was cowering in her chair.
Clutching her cross pendant, Malty was standing there, panting, and definitely crazy. "Fuck! Fuuuck! " She had this overwhelming urge to grasp at her hair, perhaps rip them out. Instead, she clawed at her dress and pulled. With strength she didn't feel she possessed and a loud ripping sound, she yanked the frilly red thing off her body, leaving her with only her underwear. It was oddly freeing. Satisfying. "Someone get my fucking armor off the wall and help me get dressed!"
- TheVillainess -
Aha. Another cliffhanger. And I'm afraid it won't be the last one.
The Wave of Catastrophe
TheVillainess 13 – The Wave of Catastrophe
Aside from her still-agitated breathing and the beating of her racing heart echoing crazily loud in her ears, the room was dead-silent as her servants fit her armor around her body. Blue-Eyes needed to assist because the task exceeded her normal staff's qualifications.
Malty felt mostly pissed at this point. Ugh. What am I doing? I need some wine. But with every armor piece being secured around her body, her confidence grew and irritation lessened. Marginally. At least she slowly felt as if she was in control again. The vice-captain and his companions waited patiently, watching her with curious, appraising gazes. Lastly, Malty secured her Four-Saints-Faith pendant around her neck and placed it so that the little cross was wedged in-between her breasts beneath her armor. It wasn’t super comfortable but acted as a steady reminder that she was doing something good, indeed.
Sword dangling on her hip, Malty stood. "Raphtalia." She guided the anxious girl by the shoulder over toward Vyllia. "Stay here for a moment. Take care of my masseuse for me."
The Demi-woman nodded.
Malty stepped up to Vice-captain Dante. He was quite a bit taller than her, practically towering over her. She glared up at him. "You still wish to join my fight against the Wave?" At his nod, she continued, "Good! Go and gather as many troops as you can find, knights, magicians, healers, I don't care, then ready transportation in the courtyard. I'll join you in a moment."
"Yes, Your Highness." He shot her a smile, as if to say that he'd always known she'd come around, then did as told and left.
Bastard, Malty thought and gritted her teeth, but she couldn't also shake this other feeling. Something nice, gathering in her chest. Pride, perhaps. The knowledge that someone had had higher expectations of herself than she had—and that she'd met them.
"I'll be back in a moment," Malty told her servants and marched out of the room, shaking off Bald and Blue-Eyes when they tried to accompany her. Her metal boots echoed around the tall hallways, at times muted when she passed over carpets. She'd always enjoyed it. The way it made her feel important and strong. She'd missed that. Just like her sleek white cloak. The weight of her armor still felt a bit odd, but that feeling vanished with every step she took.
Her father was in the process of writing something on his desk when Malty, ignoring the guards, burst into his rooms.
"M-malty?" he asked, startled, while trying to prevent making a mess of his writing utensils, nearly knocking over the inkwell.
"Father! I need a royal decree. Now!"
"W-what? Malty? What are you wearing, and, why would—"
"Royal decree. Now!" Malty shouted, pointing. It wasn't the I'm-your-favorite-daughter-throwing-a-tantrum kind of shout. No, it sounded more like a do-as-I-say-or-I'll-hack-your-desk-into-pieces.
"Eh, ehm. O-okay. But… what do you need it for?"
"I'm going to Riyute!" Malty put her hands on her hips. "And I need a decree so that those damn peasants will obey without questioning my authority again. Alright?" Please don’t ask. Please don’t a—
"That's fair, I suppose." Aultcray, regaining his bearings, arranged a piece of parchment and began writing. "I've heard of your visit there. You're doing the right thing fixing such disrespect for the royal family." When he was done, he handed her the decree with a warm smile. "I'm glad you're taking your duties more seriously again."
Malty smiled tightly. "Yes. Thank you, father." She didn't feel like correcting his assumption and took the rolled-up parchment. What would he say if he knew that her visit there had a very different purpose? With a nod, she turned and exited the room.
"Good luck, dear daughter!" Aultcray called after her.
Yes, good luck to me, she thought, expression grim. I’ll need it.
Back in her room, the servants were speculating avidly but shut up the moment she entered. Malty went over to Raphtalia, took her off Vyllia's lap, and gathered her in her arms, careful to not make her uncomfortable against the armor.
"Malty!" Raphtalia let out a relieved giggle, arms tight around her shoulders and neck.
Hmm. I must have scared her, Malty thought. I’m sorry. She let her gaze swipe across the room while rubbing Raphtalia's back. We rarely split up in the past weeks. "I'm here. Everything's fine."
"Okay."
After a short deliberation, Malty decided that leaving Raphtalia here in her rooms without her to protect her simply wasn't an option. She was sure some of her staff still held a bit of resentment toward the Demi girl, not to mention what some fanatics might get up to.
And she’d miss me, of course. Hmm, I got everything I need, then, Malty thought and went to leave.
Bald and Blue-Eyes intercepted her at the door. "Is it true? Will we be fighting the Waves?"
Malty felt Raphtalia tense against her. "Yes. Are you coming with me or not? I wouldn't hold it against you if you decided to remain here and steal my food while I'm gone."
Bald gasped and grasped the cross dangling on his chestplate. "By the Saints! We'd never stoop so low."
"Of course, we wouldn't even dream about abandoning you, Princess," Blue-Eyes added with a charming smile.
"Quite right!"
Malty allowed herself a small smile. "Good. You heard my orders to the vice-captain. Come and accompany me!"
They did so, chuckling, obnoxious snack-stealers that they were.
When they arrived in the courtyard, things were already ready, a dozen knights and figures in cloaks sitting in open, Filolial-drawn carriages, waiting to move out. The vice-captain was in the process of being embraced by some noblewoman.
His fiancée, right, Malty thought and went over. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes, Your Highness." Vice-captain Dante shot Raphtalia in Malty's arms a questioning look but didn't comment. "Allow me to accompany you."
"Very well."
He led her to the carriage in the front. It was a plain, open thing like the other carriages. Malty felt a spark of irritation that she hadn’t been provided with a more adequate carriage—crimson-colored, roofed, and drawn by knight dragons, of course—but on second thought, she decided that it hardly mattered. She let the vice-captain assist her and Raphtalia up onto the carriage, then waved for Bald and Blue-Eyes to join them. The knight duo took their spots on either side of her.
Vice-captain Dante sat alone on the other side. “Let’s move out!”
Filolials cawed and chirped, wooden axles creaked, and the small caravan began rolling out and toward the castle gates. A few people had come to see them off. Probably only direct friends and family. Malty noticed the captain of the knights among them with a squat of his men, watching the Filolials trampling past. She couldn’t quite make out his expression beneath the helmet. Judging by his mustache, he was definitely pursing his lips.
Great, Malty thought. Did I just make a new enemy? Last time around, the man had been one of her most useful tools. Though spineless and easily played, he was a fanatic through and through. That bridge was burned now.
"We're heading to Riyute," the vice-captain told her while they rolled through the streets. "I presumed…"
Malty only nodded. He clearly wanted her to say something, but she didn’t know what. She held Raphtalia close in her lap and enjoyed the feeling of the smooth Demi-hair brushing against her nose and cheeks. The carriages’ wheels rattled across the cobblestone. Bald and Blue-Eyes joked around and talked about something benign, undisturbed by how she sat in-between them. They halted once or twice to allow more people to hop onto the carriages. Interestingly enough, some old woman with a witch getup joined the carriage where Ake the vice-captain’s squire sat with a group of young people who looked like adventurers.
When they were out of the city gates and passed by sunlit plains and fields, Malty straightened on the hard seat and spoke, "You heard of my visit to Riyute."
Dante nodded.
"And what do you make of it?"
"Well…" He looked to the side, traced the scar across his nose for a moment, then stared at her with intense grey eyes. "My opinion of you hasn't changed, if that's what you're asking, Your Highness." The wind played with his short hair, his helmet on the seat beside him.
"So you don't think me insane? Hmm, no. No, you don’t. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Unless...of course, this is all a convoluted plan to assassinate me. But no, I don't believe that. Shh, Raphtalia. Everything's fine. No, you're not that kind of person, obviously. So you actually have some kind of faith in me, however you've come to that delirious conclusion. Certainly, anyone who'd pledge their life to the Drunken Princess must be equally as mad, if not more."
The vice-captain's lips twitched into a ghost of a grin for a moment, but he remained stoic otherwise.
"I'm unsure whether to be insulted," Blue-Eyes said with a chuckle, "or honored by your words, Princess.
"Quite right. My money is on honored."
“Of course, you mo—”
"Hush, you two." Malty refocused on the vice-captain. "So, excluding what I just said… perhaps you believe me to be some kind of Saint. A prophet?" She felt Raphtalia nod against her, but it could also have been a bump in the road as well.
"I could not say that," Dante said, not giving anything away with his body language. "Only time will tell. But as it stands, my intuition tells me to follow you. Maybe I am mistaken. Maybe not. It beats the alternative, that is for certain."
"Hmm, a reasonable explanation. But tell me, what alternative are you speaking about?"
"The alternative...of sitting around and waiting," Dante said, and for the first time, she heard a bit of anger creep into his voice. "Those are the captain's orders. But—"
"By following me, you can escape those orders."
He nodded.
"Okay." Malty was sure there was more to it—like a secret desire to escape the grip of the Church—but it was a solid explanation. The vice-captain didn't strike her as someone who only supported her in the hopes of gaining more power, to usurp the position of his superior. No, he seemed genuine and passionate, even if he showed little emotion.
"Good." Malty smiled. "Very good. Now, here are your orders for the time being: We'll go to Riyute and ready the village against the Wave, as best as we can. It'll act as our stronghold. If the Wave strikes there, we fight prepared. If not, then we'll see if we can assist wherever it is." From what she remembered, the Wave monsters hadn't been all that tough. With the many knights at her side, she wasn't worried.
Dante smiled—almost smirked—probably the most expressive his face had ever been. "A good plan, Your Highness. We'll go over the details once we're at the village. For now… you still haven't accepted the invitation to act as our leader."
"Oh. I…" Malty searched her Status Magic, a thing she'd not done since she'd returned. I completely forgot to invite Raphtalia into a party, too. She quickly took care of that, whispering into the girl's ears to accept, then she took care of the vice-captain's invite.
The moment she accepted, information about all the gathered troops flooded her view. She needed a few minutes of straining her mind to get it all in order.
This looks very promising, she thought, scanning everyone's levels and roles, forehead throbbing a little. We shouldn't have any trouble with this. And as an added bonus for her "altruism", she'd most likely gain a few levels during the Wave. More strength and security is always welcome. She continued to study her troops. Maybe I should join up with one of the Heroes for a time, just to become a bit stronger and have them on my side if I ever need their help. Hmmm, I wonder if Motoyasu is still scared of me. Knowing the idiot, it shouldn’t be hard to get him to adore me again.
Lost in her scheming thoughts, Bald tapping her on the shoulder alerted her that they were in the process of entering Riyute. Like last time, they gathered in the center. Malty took a bit of pleasure from seeing the apprehension on the peasants' faces at seeing her forces, much more than the last time. She had them gather.
Malty decided that she’d simply use her carriage as an elevated platform to address the villagers. Once they finally get here. Saints, they are slow. No respect at all...
The spokesperson from last time—she couldn’t recall his name—showed up at last. “Your Highness? What—”
“Silence!” Malty exclaimed. “There will be no silly arguments this time.” She procured the royal decree, unrolled it, and showed it off. “This is a royal decree from his Majesty Aultcray Melromarc XXXII. You are to follow my orders, without question! Disobedience will be met with severe punishment. Is that understood?” She quite liked the fearful expressions now present all around her. The anger on the other hand, wasn’t that good. Whatever. They’ll be thanking me on their hands and knees after the Wave.
The spokesperson was giving her a sour look, perhaps a bit regretful. He certainly should feel bad about the blatant disrespect he’d showed her the last time.
Malty forced the anger and the desire for revenge away and focused on what was important. She gave Raphtalia a reassuring stroking of her ears, then announced, “Villagers of Riyute, the Wave will hit us tomorrow! You have two choices now. You either leave the village and find shelter elsewhere. Or, you stay, and assist us in the fight against the Wave.”
Murmuring broke out.
“Assist you?” the spokesperson asked. “Assist you how? We’re no warriors.”
“However I deem fit! I and my forces will stay here until after the Wave. You can either leave or help us fortify the village as best as possible.”
That was the end of that discussion. Soon enough, people, some reluctant, some eager, got moving. She received a few disgruntled looks, but fewer than she’d have expected. Perhaps the time in-between her visits had allowed them to digest the information of their doom—and regret how rude they’d been to her. No one even took the time to read the royal decree or verify its authenticity—maybe they just couldn’t read. Most of the elderly, women and children, and a good portion of men decided to seek shelter elsewhere. They took whatever they could carry and their livestock with them. The peasants that stayed behind outnumbered her troops nearly 3 to 1. It was a solid addition to her forces and made her feel a bit more secure. If anyone died, it would be them.
The spokesperson—Archard, she got reminded by other people talking to him—was one of those that remained, though he sent his family away after a very touching goodbye. He was cooperative after that, conveying her or Dante’s orders to his fellow villagers without question.
The first thing they did was to have everyone gather any weapons or any kind of tools that could be used as such and make sure that all the peasants had at least a stick to fight. Vice-captain Dante had planned ahead and packed a bunch of spears, but it still wasn’t enough for everyone. He sent sir Hammod and three other knights back to retrieve more weapons from the castle. In the meantime, the remaining knights instructed the peasants as best as they could in basic fighting styles and formations, making sure they knew the command structure and what to do in what scenario. At the same time, they maneuvered most of their carriages in strategic positions and built fortifications around them. Spare material and fences got utilized to block off streets.
“What should we do about the Filolials?” Malty wondered while discussing things with Dante, Archard, and Triandra, the old witch, who’d turned out to be Ake’s grandmother. They were all situated up on Malty’s carriage—the command carriage, she liked to call it.
“Do about them, Your Highness?” Archard asked, frowning.
“Her Highness is correct,” Dante said, rubbing his jaw in thought. “If we face opposition, the Filolials may panic and create chaos. Against monsters of the Wave this is a guarantee. We’ve barricaded the carriages, so it’s not like we’d need the Filolials anyway. That would take too much time. No, if the Wave hits elsewhere, we move out by foot.”
Archard was nodding along. “I can have someone escort them to where the rest of the livestock is being held.”
“That might be the easiest solution. Do that.”
“But,” Malty said. “Maybe we can make use of them otherwise?”
Archard sat back down again. “In what way, Your Highness?”
“Well, we could use them as bait. If we could restrain the Filolials to make sure they can’t create chaos, they could build a line of defense, should the monsters breach the fortifications. The monsters will be drawn to any living thing. Maybe we could— Ow! Stop!”
Triandra had hit her on the head with her wand. “You should reconsider what you’re saying, Princess Malty.”
Malty glared at her. The nerve! To attack a member of the royal family. I’ll have your head! But her anger quickly bled away as she stared into the old woman’s kind face. There was just this aura of wisdom and motherliness about her that made disliking her impossible. Even Raphtalia had giggled when Triandra had hit her on the head, and that was saying something.
“Hm,” Malty said reluctantly. “Maybe that would be too cruel.”
“Yes,” Dante said, while the old witch sent her a proud smile that made her really uncomfortable. “As much as I appreciate your strategic thinking, I believe we should simply remove the Filolials from the stronghold. Things are complicated enough as it stands.”
“You’re right. Archard, please take care of it.”
“Right away, Your Highness.”
They continued to fortify the location. A few peasants had the bright idea to dig a little crater in front of the fortifications, and Malty didn’t see why not, though she told them not to overexert themselves, to which they replied, almost cheekily, that they were used to working hard every day. She decided to let that slide this once. Some knights knew a bit of Earth magic and helped them out.
All too soon, it was approaching evening and night. The knights sent to retrieve more weaponry from Castle Town hadn’t returned yet.
“Hammod must have decided to wait for morning to rejoin us,” Dante told her. “He’ll be back in time.”
“Good.”
The peasants supplied them with food, and everyone ate together. It was almost like a little feast, people sitting around fires, eating, conversing. At times, she almost forgot that she was among a bunch of peasants—they were a lot of knights and others who originated from Castle Town, after all.
“Do you really think that the Wave will hit here, Your Highness?” one of them asked her while eating with less-than-adequate manners.
“Yes. I had a vision about it. I tried to ignore it, but it kept me awake at night until I finally decided to come here.” At this point, she just went with the silly explanation. Everyone already knew and thought that anyway. This is going to come back to bite me in the ass, I just know it. Whatever. As long as we come out alive, I don’t care.
The peasants oohed and aahed a little, and their flame-lit expressions looked almost as if they believed her. They asked her some more stupid questions, like how life as a Princess was like, and Malty didn’t see much of a reason to not tell them a little about herself.
Triandra saved her from the peasants by taking a place next to her. Listening to the old woman talk about her family proved to be almost interesting.
“My grandson fancies you, I believe,” Triandra told her at one point, whispering in a way that everyone heard it, which resulted in a round of amusement and people clapping Ake on his back and shoulders.
The young knight was beyond embarrassed, of course—Malty could see him blush even in the firelight—and tried to deny it, stammering.
Malty only laughed and waved at him.
“You’d have to be blind not to fancy our lovely Princess!” Blue-Eyes said from behind her somewhere.
“Quite right!”
“Hmm, yes,” Malty said, smiling. “I mean. Who doesn’t fancy me?”
No one could tell her, of course.
Eventually, she excused herself for the night. The few women that had stayed behind had readied a bed for her in one of the abandoned houses. It was the least comfortable Malty had spent the night since she’d returned, and it just had this peasant scent, but it was enough. She hadn’t assisted in any of the physical work but felt exhausted nonetheless, readily melting into the mattress with Raphtalia in her arms.
“Will we be fighting the Wave tomorrow?” the girl asked her, her voice quivering a little.
“Yes.” Malty stroked her ears. “It’ll be fine. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. Okay?”
Raphtalia nodded against her.
Maybe I should have found a better solution, Malty thought, not liking the thought of scaring her little raccoon masseuse even more than she already was. I could have asked Tolia to take her in for a time. Then again… This could be good for her. She told me about her experience with the last Wave. Maybe, seeing us fight off the Wave monsters with ease will help her regain more confidence. Or it could open up old wounds... In the end, Malty just didn’t want to part ways with her adopted sister, so the girl stayed.
“Can I give you a massage, Malty?”
Malty giggled, taken off-guard. “Sure. I’d like that, Raphtalia.” While the girl massaged her and kneaded the tension out of her body, she realized that she’d completely forgotten to have a drink at dinner.
--- TheVillainess ---
The next morning, the villagers and her troops were already fast at work when she emerged with Raphtalia from the house, training, building more fortifications, chanting spells. The two of them enjoyed a simple breakfast while watching the men—and the few women—work.
Things are coming along nicely, Malty thought, munching on some bread and cheese. This doesn’t taste so bad. I’ll need someone to buy me more of it once we’re back at the castle. The Wave monsters will be a piece of cake. Of course, it had been mostly Vice-captain Dante who'd come up and organized the fortifications, but she'd done her best to contribute and command people around.
As promised, Hammod returned with a carriage packed with weaponry. This left almost every peasant with at least a spear or pitchfork.
Midday passed, and the Wave came closer and closer. Malty itched for a drink but resisted, wanting to retain a clear mind for the battle. Raphtalia in her lap, she’d remain on her command carriage so that she could have a good overview and give orders easily. With the strategic position at the very center, it also happened to be the most secure position in their little stronghold. I’d like to see any monster fight its way through.
"This looks very promising," Vice-captain Dante told her during one of their usual meetings. "If the Wave really hits here, we'll be well-prepared."
"It will."
"You seem certain," Archard said with a raised eyebrow.
Malty nodded.
"Did something change?” Triandra asked. “Did you have another dream, dear?"
"No, I did not." Malty had to smile at how genuine her question seemed—or maybe it was just because of the woman’s audacity. "I'm merely practicing confidence. We'll need that for the battle."
"Indeed, we will." For some reason, Dante grinned faintly, then hopped off the carriage to go back to his troops. "Ake! Stop fooling around. The Wave will hit any moment now. We have to stay alert."
"Y-yes, sir! Sorry, sir!"
Triandra chuckled. “Ah, the youngsters...” Archard helped her down, and they both resumed their designated positions among the troops.
My little army, Malty thought and shook her head. How did I ever get to this position?
Bald and Blue-Eyes we're having similar thoughts, being silly as always, leaning against the carriage’s side to her back. They were certainly using their position as her personal guards to their advantage, not helping as much as they could have, stealing her snacks. Malty hadn’t expected much else.
"Hey, Bald, remember when our lives used to be simple and peaceful."
"Quite right, I do, Blue-Eyes. Back, when all we did was sit and joke around."
"And eat."
"And that," Bald said, then noisily chewed some nuts.
Blue-Eyes sighed wistfully. "What a good life that was."
"Quite right…"
"Then again, we're still doing kind of the same."
Bald grunted.
"Plus the minor inconvenience that we might get mauled by some interdimensional beasts now."
"Quite right..."
"That certainly wasn't in the job description."
"Yeah. Would have noticed that."
"It only said: Guard. Be sharp. Protect beautiful ladies, which, under no circumstances, you are allowed to ogle or flirt with—"
Malty snorted.
"—but whose beauty will motivate you in the darkest of hours and longest of shifts."
"And we got the most beautiful, I say."
"Aye, we do."
"With the prettiest hair and softest skin and most shi—"
"Don't overdo it, you two!" Malty scolded without turning around, hiding her grin in Raphtalia's hair. The girl was also giggling, so that was a plus.
"...and the most shiny dresses," Bald continued.
"And the best food. Don't forget the food, Bald."
"Quite right. What food it has been…"
Malty snorted. "I swear, you two…"
Blue-Eyes chuckled. "What can I say, Princess. The prospect of facing off against fierce monsters while there is a beautiful lady behind our back, and a real Princess no less, can make any man forget his manners."
"Quite right…"
"That is, if the Wave actually hits here. Which, I must say, seems pretty unlikely. Why, almost as unlikely as going to search for a little Demi girl with a specific name, age, size, and hair-style in mind—and actually finding her exactly where claimed. Yes, that would be—"
There was a sound akin to thunder striking, and the world was abruptly cast in a dark-red hue.
"—a miracle, indeed…"
“By the Saints…” Bald said.
Lips pursed, Malty stared up at the purple, green, and blue swirls in the blood-red sky. Already, she could see monsters descending from those ominous swirls, and was the wind suddenly picking up, tugging at her royal strands? The temperature must have dropped too. Around her, the knights barked orders. Raphtalia whimpered. Malty thought off the shivers running down her spine. Maybe I should have asked one of the Heroes to accompany me. You could say all you wanted about Motoyasu, but she’d always felt safe with him, secure in the knowledge that he’d fight to the death to keep her—and the other girls, but mostly her—safe.
Thankfully, the Wave’s center wasn’t located directly above the village. That would have made their fortifications mostly obsolete, perhaps even trapped them. From the looks of it, monsters would be attacking predominantly from the south. Malty went to inform her troops of that vital information, but the vice-captain had already beaten her to it, and the men were in the process of reinforcing the barrier on the southern street.
“I’m afraid,” Raphtalia whispered.
“Shh. It’s fine. I’m here. The knights will protect us.”
Tense moments went by. Malty held Raphtalia tightly.
“Incoming!” someone yelled.
A few seconds later, there was a loud bang of something striking wood, then followed by cries—of panic, mostly. The carriage inside the southern fortifications shook, and the peasants and knights atop it swayed and tried to not lose their balance. Some let go of their weapons to grip the sides. For a moment, it looked as if they’d topple over in a chain reaction—awfully many men had taken position up there—but then they recovered their footing. They raised their spears to fight whatever was on the other side of the barrier, yelling to give themselves courage.
It didn’t look all that coordinated. Malty thought to hear the odd cry of pain among the sound of metal striking metal and bones. But then exclamations of triumph reached her; they’d killed the first attackers.
Good, Malty thought and could practically feel a wave of enthusiasm spread through all her troops. Very good.
Amidst a plethora of shouts, one of the peasants got shoved backward and off the carriage, where he was taken by a group of men waiting there for that exact purpose and lowered to the ground nearby. In the next second, Triandra and another robed figure were by his side, chanting a spell to heal what Malty thought was a stab wound in his left shoulder. In the meantime, another man had taken the spot of the injured. The peasants functioned better than she would have thought.
The next wave of monsters struck the southern fortifications. Malty spotted a few skeletal, armored soldiers beyond the part where the fortifications weren’t all that high, in the space in-between the carriage and the houses it had been erected between. One of them vanished—it must have fallen into the trench the peasants had dug. A second brainless monster straight-up walked into the wooden spikes of the fortifications, not taking any apparent damage, but not getting further ahead either, staring ahead with glowing red eyes while striking the fortifications with tired movements. Peasants poked at it and the other monsters with their spears, from a safe distance away. It took a while to slay them, but the range advantage allowed them to remain in relative safety while doing so. More yells of triumph filled the air.
Monsters struck the fortifications on the West, where Archard was stationed. They fought off the monsters. The other sides got hit, and they all held as well. For now.
“See, we got everything under control,” Malty told Raphtalia.
The girl only nodded, but she wasn’t shivering quite so bad anymore.
An odd sound above drew Malty’s attention. Oh, shit, she thought, as she watched a dozen, man-sized flying insects descend toward them—directly toward her. Their wings beat so fast that it was difficult to see them at all except for a vague outline and created a steady, ominous sound, getting louder and louder. I completely forgot about the flying monsters!
Malty pushed Raphtalia into a safer position and raised her hands. “Wind Blow!” Her spell struck one of the monsters. It survived but got thrown back and up into the sky. A dozen more were zoning in on her. Fuck fuck fuck. She rapidly chanted a spell, then shouted, “Second Fire Arrow!”
Raphtalia squeaked and hugged her around the waist, holding on with shaking arms.
Mana raced through her body, and the flaming projectiles shot out of her hands just like she remembered.
They struck the flying monsters, and they screeched as they got hit. She got one or two, their charred corpses dropping to the ground.
“Watch out! Above!”
The other monsters, a second or two away from reaching her, stopped their descent, hovered, careful of the sudden heat in the air, then dashed to the side to attack someone else. Phew… That was close.
Panicked shouts were audible all around her. One peasant had been picked up by one of the flying insects and was being carried off into the sky.
Malty chanted and cast a Second Flame Shot and blasted the thing off the sky. Her spell hit the peasant as well, and he fell down screaming and smoking, but he’d survive. Maybe.
“Hold your ranks!” the vice-captain’s thundering voice sounded above the mayhem of the battle. “If the fortifications fall, we’ll get swarmed. Hold position! Everyone who can cast offensive magic, focus on the enemies above! Same goes for archers!” The man himself had a large bow in his arms. He drew, shot, and reduced the number of the beasts by one more. People jumped left and right to avoid being hit by the falling corpses. It was chaos, but the formations didn’t break.
Malty cast fire spell after fire spell. She was careful not to light the houses or fortifications on fire. That may have worked as a last resort, but for now, they were holding their positions. Sweat was starting to gather on her heated face.
I’m casting Second spells, she realized suddenly, after shooting another Second Fire Arrow at a distant swarm of giant insects, scaring them off. That’s odd. I only used to be able to do that after my Class Upgrade. Perks of being a time-traveler, I suppose. It was draining her pretty rapidly, though. “Mana potion! Someone give me a mana potion!” Shit. I should have prepared better. Of course there would be flying monsters.
Blue-Eyes, who was in the process of cutting one of them in half with his spear—while jumping in the air like a show-off—finished with his business there and came running back to her carriage. He tossed her a potion, which she almost dropped before grasping it firmly into her hands and unstoppering it.
“Thanks.” Malty quickly drank and relished the rejuvenating feeling spreading through her body. Thankfully, the monsters avoided her position as the origin of fiery and deadly spells, so she went undisturbed while recovering. Then she immediately resumed to shoot monsters out of the sky. Bald and Blue-Eyes remained close by, most of the time, though no monsters ever neared her.
Raphtalia finally had the courage to lift her face off Malty’s chest and lessen her embrace a little. She pushed herself into Malty’s side and watched, talking something to herself that Malty didn’t catch in the noise.
At one point, the eastern fortification got breached by a big armored soldier—almost twice the size of a normal man and twice as dead, too, carrying a rusted giant axe. The thing beheaded a peasant and sent another one flying before someone—Triandra, probably—finished it with an Earth Spell, letting a large chunk of rock drop on the thing and crushing it. A wind spell pushed back the monsters that had breached the barrier after the large one. The troops, yelling a battlecry, pushed forward. Malty thought to have seen Hammod leading the charge, the Wave making his hair look almost as red as hers. They fought their way back, reclaimed the fortifications, then filled the damaged parts with Earth magic. It wasn’t as effective as before, but it held, and they had things back under control.
Malty worked through another two mana potions. No beast or undead got even close to her. The ranks held.
Finally, the sky cleared. The last monsters got finished off, then only the sound of the wounded crying in pain filled the air. Those were dealt with shortly too, and then everyone allowed themselves to breathe a collective gasp of relief.
Fuck, we did it, Malty thought and couldn’t help but smile, slumping in her seat. She pulled out her Four-Saints-Faith pendant from underneath her armor, pressed a kiss against it, then another one atop Raphtalia’s head, letting out a relieved giggle and caressing her. The odd corpse was visible here and there, but if she had to guess, no more than a dozen peasants had lost their lives—and none of the knights. This is a very good result, I’d wager.
Dante came over to talk to her, but a sudden cry diverted her attention.
“Raphtalia?! What’s wrong?” Malty took the girl by the shoulders and inspected. She was uninjured and her Health was full, so she had no idea why the girl was suddenly moaning in pain and writhing as if possessed. “Raphtalia?!”
“H-hungry,” she gasped out, clutching her stomach.
Shit! She’s growing! Malty thought. The girl already felt heavier in her arms. I totally forgot about this! Oh no, what do I do? “Food!” she screamed. “Someone bring me food!” Her exclamation got met by confusion, if not outright ignored, so she repeated it more loudly, and the odd threat may have escaped her as well, but she didn’t care if anyone took offense. Damn it! How many levels did we gain? Fuck. She tried to look but had to focus on steadying and comforting Raphtalia. “Bring me some fucking food! And a healer! Triandra!”
--- TheVillainess ---
The long-awaited Wave battle! ;) I didn’t want to make it too detailed (and dramatic), but couldn’t help but give all the characters some time to shine. Hope you enjoyed it!