Holsa looked disappointed, who wouldn’t be, after the near-miracle of a divine contract? Still, he bowed his head in reluctant acceptance. If the Crown Princess Consort already had a pact with a high-ranking spirit, there was nothing more to say.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” I inclined my head. “Now, to return to the point. Prince Ramtak happened to witness the Serpent God taking a liking to my wife and approaching her. Much like Holsa just now, he leapt to the conclusion that she must be the Saintess.”
“Well, I can’t blame him,” Aleis admitted with a small nod. “No one would assume your wife was already contracted to a spirit even higher than the Serpent God, let alone that she’d refuse such a contract.”
Spirits were rare to encounter and rarer to bond with. To most people, such things lived in the borderlands of legend. And in Seahealby, the Serpent God wasn’t recognized as a spirit at all; he was a deity, full stop. With no other context, seeing a woman openly favored by him would make anyone think Saintess.
“In any case,” I went on, “that’s how things began with my wife and this Serpent God, though, because he has two heads, she’s taken to calling him Futamata as a nickname.”
“Pardon?” Aleis blinked.
“She calls him Futamata.” I repeated.
“Pardon?”
“Strictly speaking, it’s Futamata-chan,” I clarified.
“It’s not the honorific that concerns me…”
“My apologies,” I said, sounding far too sincere for how amused I felt. “My wife’s naming sense is, ah, a touch unfortunate at times.”
“I… see.” Aleis stared into the middle distance, as if reevaluating the cosmos.
Lysonna, who knew Bertia far too well, turned away and pressed her lips to keep from laughing, shoulders trembling in silent mirth.
Holsa… Ah, yes. He’s gone completely blank.
“Ahem. On that note, I heard recently that Princess Bertia received a divine message and went around exposing two-timers. Might that have been him?” he asked.
“It seems our Serpent God was playing a prank,” I said dryly. “He only revealed himself when a two-timing man passed near Tia, and then made sure she called his name. My wife simply spotted a familiar spirit and called out to him; that’s all.”
“I… see.”
Lysonna’s shoulders shook. Her face had gone pink from the effort of holding back laughter.
“It would appear our nation’s guardian is a rather unique being,” Aleis managed, sounding like a man clawing his way out of the Futamata-induced shock.
He wasn’t wrong. Futamata’s personality was a lot. If Seahealby intended to go on venerating him as their guardian, a certain degree of pragmatic detachment would serve them well.
“Once you get used to him, he’s entertaining,” I allowed. “He’s an interesting spirit to keep company with.”
“I see. It would be nice if we could keep his company as well,” Aleis said carefully.
Futamata had chosen Bertia. She wouldn’t become the Saintess, but that simple fact wouldn’t change. And just because they’d met him here didn’t guarantee he’d take an interest in Seahealby’s royals going forward. At least that was what they were likely thinking.
“Which brings me,” I continued, “to the second matter. The one that’s more of a request.”
“And what might that be?”
With so much disclosed at once, Aleis straightened, bracing himself for whatever came next. Relax, I thought. This one’s good news.
“As I mentioned, our household is already at capacity where spirits are concerned. So…”
I let my gaze drift to Lysonna, who was clutching her husband’s sleeve with anxious fingers.
Startled by my sudden attention, she edged closer to Aleis as if seeking shelter from her own nerves.
Good. Their relationship really is solid.
“That’s why,” I said gently, “I was hoping Princess Lysonna could look after Futamata.”
I turned on my best smile of the day. Lysonna’s eyes flew wide, her mouth falling open in a very unladylike “o.”
That is not a face a lady should make, I added wryly in my head.
“P-Please wait! What exactly do you mean by that?!”
With Lysonna frozen in place, Aleis half rose from the sofa, flustered, and leaned toward me.
“In short,” I said plainly, “it’s a request for Princess Lysonna to become the Saintess.”
Silence fell like a dropped veil. The only sound was the clock, and then a hard swallow from Aleis.
“F-For us, that would be an extraordinarily generous offer,” he managed, sinking back into his seat while turning to his wife for her thoughts.
“M-Me? Become the Saintess? B-But I’m… Well, I’m rather sharp-tongued, stubborn, and not the least bit adorable. I don’t have even a shred of Lady Bertia’s purity. Someone like me could never—”
Flustered, Lysonna began listing every insecurity she owned. Her expression darkened until Aleis, still cradling Futamata in one arm, slipped his free hand around her shoulders.
“It’s not like that,” he murmured, comforting her.
The twin serpent, now much closer to her, promptly rubbed one head against her chest as if to broadcast, not opposed.
Absolutely not, Futamata. My eyes narrowed into a quiet threat. Chest contact is out of bounds. Kuro will punish you later.
He froze, gave me an expression that said, oops, you caught me, and sheepishly slid his cheek up to her shoulder instead.
No shame and no fear. The perfect combination, I thought dryly.
“It’s all right,” I went on aloud. “From the looks of it, Futamata isn’t averse to you at all. And in fact, we’ve already discussed this with him.”
Princess Lysonna’s eyes wavered with uncertainty as she looked to me for clarity. At the same time, Aleis’s gaze sharpened, as if trying to read between my words.
“In truth, there’s a very simple reason Futamata took such a liking to Tia,” I said.
I flicked a glance at Zeno, and he stepped forward, setting something on the table with a decisive thump.
“This,” I announced, “is the reason.”
All eyes snapped to the object. They blinked once, then twice, and Futamata, the instant he saw it, tried to launch himself at the prize, only to be stopped by Aleis’s startled grip. The prince hadn’t meant to break the serpent’s momentum so much as keep him from tumbling off the edge, but the effect was the same.
Unsure whether to let go, Aleis shot me a questioning look.
“Futamata, calm yourself,” I chided. “This isn’t for you. It’s a gift for Crown Prince Aleis and Princess Lysonna.”
I drew the item closer to my side, out of Futamata’s reach. Both heads drooped in theatrical despair, as if I’d struck him with a bolt of cosmic injustice. Honestly, after all our advance briefing, how could he still be this excitable? I sighed, ignoring his wounded stare.
“Your Highness Cecil,” Aleis ventured carefully, “if I’m not mistaken, that is—”
“It’s the nihonshu we served at your wedding reception,” I said, lifting the bottle slightly.
Aleis’s expression did a complicated dance between denial and reluctant acceptance. No one would want to believe their nation’s guardian was tamed by liquor. There wasn’t much dignity in that.
But really—
Once your guardian deity is Futamata, dignity is already a sunk cost.
“It seems Futamata is very fond of good drink and charming women,” I went on. “When Tia got a little tipsy and, ahem, accidentally shared some nihonshu with him, she ended up… well, let’s say she successfully baited the hook.”
“B-Baited? Our Guardian was baited?”
Muttering to himself, Crown Prince Aleis stared down at Futamata in his arms.
Beside him, Princess Lysonna looked from the bottle to the serpent with a dazed expression, as if rethinking the entire concept of Saintesshood. Wait, Saintesses get chosen like that? was written all over her face.