A few hours after the Empire’s retreat, Al had somehow managed to slip away from the Divas’ wrath and back to the castle. He had two audiences to hold, so he was sitting in the throne room and doing some self-reflection while awaiting the arrival of his guests.
“Am I getting too ahead of myself? I mean, just recently, I kissed... Sharon, and groped her breasts; Feena, and groped her behind; Kanon, and did a bunch of other things with her; and now, I just pleaded for a kiss with Sharon. Well, technically I was about to activate Heavenly Surge, but still. Even for a king, it’s too daring to jump from one bride candidate to the other, especially considering that they’re the representatives of their respective countries.
“Haah... Could it be because of the Demon King’s influence on me? Maybe I’m just trying to shift the blame to someone else—more specifically, to the Demon King.”
His quiet monologue that even Jamka, the person standing right behind him, was oblivious to, was suddenly answered by someone.
“Oh my, Al. You have me all for yourself!”
He looked up to see Cecilia standing right in front of him.
“Ah! Cecilia, I meant... Wait, what is that!?” He was flustered for a second and accidentally raised his voice, but he quickly regained his composure.
“Oh my, you don’t like it?”
✦ ✦ ✦
The reason for that was simple: his sister was wearing both a huge smile and a maid outfit.
“Oh my, according to Feena, your reaction was much different when she wore this for you.”
I mean, it was, but...
“That’s why we all decided to wear one!”
Al’s thoughts were interrupted by the Divas walking into the room, all wearing maid uniforms.
“Having so many Divas around you wouldn’t look good in front of guests,” Feena said.
“And how is having four maids around me any different!?” Al shut down her excuse while burying his face in his palms.
“Honestly... I don’t want to meet a Freiyan messenger,” Sharon said in a depressed tone.
“Then just don’t show up!” Al would have liked to tell her, but he hadn’t recovered from the previous debacle at the battlefield. All he could do was shamefully avert his gaze from her.
“Hahaha, why not! No one will realize that we’re Divas now!”
“I don’t think it’s that—”
“Your Majesty, the messenger from Freiya has arrived.” Upon hearing Lilicia’s voice through the door, the Divas split into two groups and stood on either side of the door. They were almost like real maids.
“Excuse me.”
While Al was busy appreciating their quick thinking, an authoritative voice spread through the hall. The Freiyan messenger, clad in crimson armor, entered the reception hall.
“Ahem... Come in.” Al quickly glared at the Divas in an attempt to hammer in that they couldn’t make a ruckus anymore. They had to stand there in silence until they finished.
Cecilia averted her gaze, confirming that Al’s quiet warning was not very effective. Sharon, however, reacted much differently.
“Ran...bolg...” Her demeanor did a 180. Upon spotting the messenger, her eyes filled with fear instead of surprise. The messenger walked up to the throne at a brisk pace, wearing a brazen smile. In stark contrast to the messenger’s orderly manners, his convoy looked like a couple of unorganized hoodlums who had just so happened upon some sets of crimson armor.
“Hmph. What a stuffy castle,” the messenger whispered under his breath while respectfully bowing before Al.
“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I am the first prince of Freiya, Ranbolg.”
It was a textbook introduction, but Al still felt like he was being mocked somehow. He couldn’t let himself get caught up on that fleeting feeling, though; he had something much more important to consider. He had figured the messenger would be a civil official or an army general at most, and Sharon was also dumbfounded by the arrival of the prince himself.
From what Al had heard about Ranbolg, his cruelty and ruthlessness were second only to the acting king. He was the leader of Freiya’s infamous Knights of the First Order. They may have been called “knights”, but there was nothing chivalrous about them. They were a bunch of bandits and mercenaries who were rumored to even ransack villages in their own country.
I would’ve locked Sharon up in her room if I knew he was coming, but I guess that’s hindsight for you.
“It’s an honor to welcome the prince of Freiya to our cozy little country.” Al was almost nauseatingly flattering, but deep down, he wanted the prince to leave as soon as humanly possible.
“Please, I have been hoping to meet the Demon King—pardon, Your Majesty ever since I heard about your feats against the Empire.”
In a turn of events, Al was the one who was nauseated. He wanted to respond in kind, but he was talking to the prince of Freiya. Angering him could very well lead to an all-out war, so he decided to let that comment slide.
“Either way, I simply had some time today to check on Freiya’s Diva, Sharon, after overseeing my eight thousand soldiers’ practice earlier this morning.”
For some reason, Ranbolg’s smile was getting on Al’s nerves.
“I have to commend you on your taste, Your Highness. I honestly didn’t expect to see the fiery Sharon wearing a maid uniform...” Ranbolg let out a hearty laugh and looked at Sharon teasingly. Sharon stiffened up and bashfully looked away, while Al started to get mad at his lascivious-looking stare.
“L-Let’s not get stuck on the details. May I ask what the purpose of your visit is?” He once again managed to stifle his urge to call Ranbolg out, and went with a diplomatic question. Ranbolg switched his gaze from Sharon to Al, who could feel the cynicism coming from his eyes.
“Honestly, I simply wanted to pay a visit. I wanted to see how our precious Diva, who has yet to come home despite being ordered to do so, is doing,” he said with a smile matching his cynical stare. That smile was enough to send chills up Sharon’s spine. She was visibly tense, and the color had drained from her face.
“I-I terribly sorry about that, but, umm...” He was desperately trying to come up with a smart response.
“Arghh!”
Al’s thoughts were interrupted by a scream.
“I’m Al’s wife! If you dare lay a finger on him, you’re dead!”
He looked over to see what the commotion was about. There, he saw a soldier, clad in a crimson armor and standing in front of Feena, with both his arms frozen solid.
“What are you doing, you stupid maid!? How dare you hurt me, a Freiyan knight!?”
The other knights drew their swords and glared at them.
“Hahaha! You can try if you want, but let me warn you: if you so much as step too close to Feena, I’ll chop you into pieces.” Kanon stepped in front of Feena and slid her hand down to the sheath of her sword. Behind her, Feena was readying a spell. The serene throne room was about to be turned into a battlefield.
“Stop, you morons! Are you trying to embarrass me!?” Ranbolg’s voice boomed through the hall.
“Kanon, Feena! Don’t disturb the audience! Put your weapons down!”
They seemed to understand the situation, as they both stepped back.
“I am terribly sorry for my soldiers’ rude display.” Ranbolg bowed deeply. It seemed like their attack was just his entourage acting out of order. However...
“Listen to me! We’ll be staying here for a while, so don’t get rowdy on me!”
“Wait, you’re staying? What do you mean?”
Shouldn’t he consult me, the king, first about staying in this country?
“This unfortunate incident has soured the air, so I will take my leave now. We shall continue our discussion at a later date.”
Al wanted to clarify the situation, but after a quick bow, Ranbolg made his way toward the door. On his way, he approached Sharon and exchanged a few words with her before exiting. Al had no way of knowing what it was about, but it couldn’t have been idle chatter, considering that Sharon grew even paler than before. The Freiyan messenger may have left, but his sinister shadow still eclipsed the entire castle.
“Now, then...”