It all happened in the Sauslind royal archives, sometime after last year’s Hunting Festival. The crowd that had gathered in a corner of the library were all male. I, Konrad, a staff member of the royal archives, took a long, sweeping look at the assembled faces. Their expressions were filled with a resentment that had been building for some time now.
That was no surprise. Why, you ask?
“I’m at my limit.”
The staff member trembling with rage was dressed as the living dead. His face was so pale and bony to begin with that I wasn’t sure the costume was necessary, but that was beside the point. Today was the one day of the year when we were allowed to dispense with all ceremony.
His bloodshot eyes the only splash of color on his pallid face, he ranted, “Why does he insist on flirting in the library?! Couldn’t he at least show the consideration to do it away from me?! I was turned down for the hundred and first time the other day!”
The rest of us instinctively backed away at the sound of his bloodcurdling cry. And trust me, it wasn’t because we were scared of his appearance.
An employee from a different department piped up in commiseration. As he began to recount his own plight, his voice soon choked with tears. “Every day I work myself into a block of ice in my bitter cold workplace. Hic. One day, it was so nice being around the warm body of my girlfriend that I fell asleep in the middle of our date, and she sent me a break-up letter saying, ‘If you find me so boring, we’re done.’”
The men around him rushed to offer comfort as he threatened to break down crying. The ones nodding along in sympathy, assuring him that the fatigue must have taken its toll, were from the department known as the demon lord’s council room. Rumor had it their workplace was home to a veritable ice monster.
For some reason, they were all dressed as bright, warm balls of fire. I got the feeling they’d misunderstood the assignment, but perhaps it was an attempt to offset their daily hardships.
“At least you had a girlfriend...”
That resentful, vindictive remark came from one particular unit of the imperial guard. Their costumes were that of mangled soldiers resurrected on the battlefield. They were dressed as what were known as deserter samurai—or, well, not quite. Were deserter “knights” even a thing?
“We’re part of the supposedly sought-after imperial guard, yet not a single one of us has ever found a girlfriend! It’s all because that stupid, glitzy demo— Ahem. Because a certain someone loves to drag us east, west, and most recently, to the Miseral Dukedom! We’re supposed to be stationed at the royal palace, dammit! We’re put to work harder than soldiers on the battlefield! We’re expected to dash through the rain in the dead of night, camp outside, and vanquish bandits! And once we make it home after all that, we’re treated to the royal couple’s incessant flirting, and the girl we’d planned to ask out when we got back already has a boyfriend! Is there truly a god out there?!”
As I watched him turn his eyes heavenward and bemoan his fate, I grew concerned that his heartbreak might lead him to dabble in some fishy religion. Then again, if he showed up at a temple looking like that, he’d probably be exorcised on the spot.
Fate is a cruel mistress.
As could be inferred from the complaints thus far, our group had come together to air our daily grievances against the most exalted man in all of Sauslind Kingdom. We certainly hadn’t banded together out of misguided bitterness, nor did we have a motto of “Down with happy couples!” Don’t be silly.
Normally, this sort of thing wouldn’t be allowed, but today was a day for dispensing with all formalities. It was the one day a year when the entire royal court could disrespect their superiors and get away with it. However, that only applied to those in costume. There was an unspoken rule among the children that if they didn’t get a treat, they were free to play a trick, but it would be no laughing matter for us adults to attempt the same. Besides...our target wasn’t someone to be trifled with.
We gave one another’s costumes a quick once-over. With a nod, we confirmed that it would be difficult to tell who was who like this.
If we could get a scream out of him, even the tiniest yelp, it would do wonders to lift our spirits. We wanted to see that glitzy demon lord’s legs buckle under him as a ghost popped out from the darkness—or if that was too much to ask, we at least wanted to scare him enough to dissuade him from flirting in public for a while. I certainly wouldn’t go so far as to hope for, say, the satisfaction of seeing Lady Elianna witness his cowardice. That would be simply delusional.
Okay, maybe I was thinking about it a little.
Ever since the glitzy demon lord’s wedding date had been set, he’d lost all self-control around Lady Elianna, as if he’d been freed of the shackles holding him back. The number of people from different departments nursing grudges spoke to how often the pair had been caught in a public display of affection.
Even I had found one particular encounter too much to stomach. When Lady Elianna had been reading on a ladder as per usual, the demon lord had come along with his sparkling smile, boxed her into the narrow space with nowhere to run, and started smooching on her!
He’s out of control! What kind of advanced technique is it to trap a girl from below?! I’m so damn jealous, you stupid, glitzy demon lord! I’d thought, and I know I wasn’t the only one. If you had the same reaction, that makes you one of us. Feel free to put on a costume and join in the fun.
“All right. Let’s follow the plan.”
We split up into several groups. As long as even one of us managed to scare him, we’d consider that a win.