Chapter 120: Arc 4-Royal Pains-Part 19

“Take all my love, take it all. What more do you have than before? Nothing, my love, nothing. It was yours, now and before. It is yours, forevermore.”

Kierra blinks her sleepy eyes, giving me a slow smile. “That was terrible.”

I huff. “You’re the one asking me to recite poetry first thing in the morning. Did you think I’d come up with something good?” I make to roll away from her but an arm wraps around me, pulling me against her. Admittedly, I don’t struggle much.

“I thought you’d have something better to show for it. All my colleagues are nobles and extensively tutored in classic literature.”

“Me and tutoring didn’t get along until recently and the only things I read are summoning records. You got anything better, barbarian?”

I feel her ample chest press against my back as she shifts to drape herself over me, putting her lips against my ear. Then she speaks in her own language, the long vowels and changes in pitch making it seem as if she’s singing, the vestiges of sleep giving her words a husky tone.

I take a shuddering breath and let it out slowly as she finishes, trying to calm my racing heart. “…fine, that was better. What’d you say, anyway? I caught a little but I’m still rusty.” And I was mostly distracted.

“The same thing you said.”

“Of course. You could say anything in that voice and it’d be poetry.” Or at least erotic. All soft and breathy, woman practically moaned the words into my ear.

“It’s all in the presentation, dedia.”

“I don’t think I want you presenting to anyone else.”

“So possessive.”

“I am.” Which might be hypocritical of me seeing the way I can’t help chasing every skirt that catches my eye. It’s not my fault though! When I married her, I was ready to dedicate myself to a monogamous relationship. Wandering eyes aside, I never would have acted on it if it wasn’t for her. Kierra never said anything but her eyes did. Pushing me. Daring me.

Elven harems aside, I never had the guts to try it on until Geneva and Bell came along, always a little fearful I was misinterpreting her signals. Nope. Not even a little. I get the feeling she thought I was moving a little slowly.

However, I can’t stand the thought of her doing the same. Saints, the one time she joked about reciprocating Aurelius’ attentions, I nearly lost my mind. Amongst the family is good and fine but seeing her trying to seduce another woman…yeah, I don’t think that would end well. I could swallow my pride if she really wanted.

I think.

Maybe.

Probably have a heart attack trying but that can’t kill me anymore, so it’s fine.

“Is that…bad?”

“Oh, no. It is very good.” Kierra rolls on top of me, her silver hair falling about us like a curtain. “The source of all power is greed. Desire. Those who want more will fight harder and longer. I very much want you to embrace your desires, Lou. Your kindness, your selfishness, your fetishes. Embrace it all and become strong, my little conqueror.”

She seals her speech with a kiss, slow and lazy. Really, how is anyone supposed to maintain a sense of decency with her around? Encouraging me to become more of a degenerate. No doubt marrying her was the best decision of my short life but I have a feeling it’ll also be the most questionable.

“Good morning Lou, Master.”

I turn to see Geneva standing by the side of the bed, tail swishing with Bell in her arms. Time to get moving then. With a sigh, I wiggle out from underneath my elf who enviously gets to go back to sleep, stretching languidly. “Another busy day. Especially for you.”

I motion for Bell, ignoring the imp’s grin as I hold her against my chest. “I need you to do something for me, Bell.”

“Coo!” [I am eager to serve, Master Lou.]

“You’re going to do some investigating for me today. I want you to do spy on Prince Samuel and his friends. If we’re going to find out what’s going on, we need an inconspicuous way to get close to them. Of course, if you manage to unravel the whole plot in a day, that’d be best.”

“Coo.” Her face falls, tail drooping in clear disappointment. Not the favor you thought I was going to ask, huh? Hehe. [I would prefer to stay with you.]

That’s nice. I do love spoiling my elementals, as they deserve it, but I won’t forget Geneva’s lesson. Only one person gives the orders. I raise Bell so we’re eye level. “That’s an order, Belolial.”

The pout stays but she gives me a little nod. [As you wish, Master Lou.]

“Aw, don’t make that face.” I kiss her little nose. That gets a swish of her tail so I continue, dropping several more. “You know how much I appreciate you, my little saint. I don’t like it either. This is why you should never get involved with royals.” Yes, it’s all that prince’s fault my favorite is upset first thing in the morning. He doesn’t deserve me saving his life.

I set her on the floor, happy the pout is gone. “I’m counting on you.”

“Coo!” [Leave it to me.] Her voice is full of determination as she scampers away, slipping out of the room like a darting shadow. That’s a relief off my mind. Once she gets back, I can put together a plan of action to get this mess squared away. Plans are the best medicine for panic.

“I will be waiting in the bath once you’re ready,” Geneva says, heading for the door.

“Um. You don’t have to do that?”

She smiles. “Are you telling me not to?”

“…no.”

“You should hurry then. Don’t want to be late.”

If anything’s going to make me late, it’ll be you. I shake my head as the door closes behind her. “These succubi are going to be the end of me.” My rational, moral, decent self.

Kierra chuckles.

-

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Ah, the Bronze Dorm. It may not be fancy or sanitary but it is full of life. I’m hit by a wall of noise as I enter behind Alana, grinning at the active attendees of the Grand Hall. It’s far easier to imagine this mob dressed in patchy armor and heatedly debating casting knowledge as the future explorers and famed defenders of the realm than those posh idiots in the Gold Dorm.

A shame I don’t really have the chance to socialize with them. I’ve been too busy with my household to bother trying to slip into the Hall’s clique. There’ll be plenty of time for that after my initiate year, when my schedule becomes less restrained.

For now, I have my usual table. Besides Alana, there are the brothers, talented Michael with a wrongly placed admiration for me and quiet Gabriel here to act as his younger brother’s guardian, the peerage hating Marthe who warmed up to me after I embarrassed Pottoculli, and surprisingly Abel.

Boy hates my guys but nowhere else will have him. He was not subtle about his connection to the Pottoculli family and is paying for that connection dearly. I don’t mind. Hearing his impotent anger is amusing and I’m not so cruel as to make him eat alone.

“Hello, everyone,” I call jovially as I take a seat besides Alana. I wave to Abel especially, expecting his usual click of the tongue. Instead, the little weasel grins. A very unfriendly grin if I say so.

“You’ve done it this time, cretin. Even I have heard of your transgressions against the prince.”

“Transgressions? That’s ridiculous. He’s the one who practically assaulted me.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re finished in this country.”

He laughs evilly. I shut him up by flicking a spoonful of today’s gruel at him, chuckling as he chokes on a bit that flies into his mouth. “Shut up, little weasel.”

“You bitch!” he sputters.

This time, I don’t need to reprimand him. Gabriel handles it for me, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder with a stern look. “Language.” Ah, such a splendid guardian.

“Yeah, language weasel. There’s a kid here and we don’t want him turning into a pathetic waste of space like you. So much for your noble education.”

“I’m not a kid,” Mike grumbles into his bowl. Not convincing if you can’t even meet your brother’s eyes when you say that. Don’t worry about it. Your life is blessedly uncomplicated as it is. Once you get older, you have to worry about women and money and royals.

“That true, Lou?” Marthe selfishly leans across Alana’s lap, ignoring the indignant knight-to-be. “You picking a fight with a prince?”

“No. Do I look like I don’t have a brain?”

“Yeah.”

“Um.”

“You are beyond stupid and look dumber than a lame donkey.”

“A bit.”

What does a bit mean, Alana? Gabriel is the only one who doesn’t insult me but he hardly talks. You are all terrible friends. Just terrible. “I hope the saints turn their backs on all of you. Stop spreading rumors about me messing with Prince Samuel. I want this mess finished.”

Marthe leans back with a click of her tongue. “Too bad. I had high hopes for you.”

“No one’s stopping you ruining your own future.” Hey, I may despise nobility but that doesn’t mean I share your anti-establishment views. Honestly, I think she wants to burn every noble house to the ground.

Which would include me and my family.

“One day.” She faces the wall, eyes unfocused as she indulges in some delusion or other.

“Okay…but since everyone is so focused on it, I don’t suppose you all could tell me something about the charming prince I don’t know? Abel, this is your time. Wow us with that brain you’re so proud of.”

He turns his nose up at the thought of helping me but I know he can’t resist showing off. “How can someone ignorant of the ruling family have the audacity to call themselves a noblewoman?” There he goes. “If you’re asking about Prince Samuel, then he is most noted for his remarkable talent as a caster, possessing dual affinities for air and water. As to be expected of such a powerful bloodline.”

Personally, I think it’s the exact opposite. How is someone unrecognized despite having the advantage two affinities? Mano says he hasn’t heard of any exploits in relation to the prince and I believe him. He has the spirit of a merchant. No point selling defective goods, or information that can’t be relied upon, because it’ll only alienate his customers.

As someone who can by their nature do twice as much as any other caster if given the same training, how do you not make a name for yourself?

Is it that? A case of having the potential to be great but not the proper attitude to bring it to fruition? A spoiled noble praised from birth to the point he is no longer willingly to work because why does the best need to improve?

Gosh. You’d think someone with such a heavy ego would want the strength to support it.

“Uh-huh. So, he’s the strongest in the family?”

“Hmph. You really know nothing. Obviously, the strongest caster in the royal family is His Majesty. It is said the king can contend with any member of the Harvest Royal Knights, even those from noble houses trained for their position since they could walk.”

“Then he’s the strongest of the children.”

“…Prince Dowager is the more militant of the two. Though Prince Samuel’s potential is untapped. There is no telling what heights he will ascend to during his time at the Grand Hall. Not to mention his dual affinity shows he clearly has the stronger blood, which is far more important.”

I can tell how important Prince Samuel is to the Traditionist Faction just by how strongly Abel is groveling. He is truly talented in at least this regard. “Ah, I see. Really enlightening. You’re so smart.” I wonder if he can feel the sarcasm slapping him across the face. Seriously, wearing such a haughty expression without telling me anything. Talk about shameful.

“You! I can’t wait until you’re finally put in your rightful place!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

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