“What a waste. It’s wicked good already,” noted the goblin. “Elves are truly rude.”
“Shut it! Just shut your big goblin mouth!” Éa snapped, then sprinkled an exorbitant amount of crushed peppers and a huge dollop of mayonnaise on her plate. She then smashed the potatoes and mixed them in with her curry before resuming her meal. “Mmm-mmm-mmmm!” She looked ecstatic.
Taking my own seat, I got started on my curry, too. Hmm, it’s got a kick to it, but it’s not spicy hot. A bit simple for my preference, but lovely when paired with the potatoes, which made the juicy pork taste even better as it melted in my mouth.
Ahhh, rice. What I wouldn’t give for some white rice. But Lana just, you know, has such fun cooking it. I’ve only got about three kilos left—I can’t waste a single grain.
“Oh.” Glancing over, I saw the undead sovereign had cleared their plate. “Machina, time for seconds.”
“On iiit!” When the cylindrical bot approached, the Dark Lord handed her the empty dish.
“Hold on, Machina! Gimme more, too!”
“On it like a bonnet!!” Refusing to fall behind, Éa cleaned her plate and held it out for Machina as well. Meanwhile, the hook-nosed gremlin continued to patiently make his way through his meal, little by little. I decided to stop worrying so much and turned my attention to my curry, enjoying the taste I hadn’t had in a while. In the end, the skeletal sovereign had seven servings, Éa had five, the goblin had three, and I came in at two.
“Uuugh, how did all that curry fit in there?” Éa moaned. “That skeleton’s nothing but bones.”
“Hey, watch it.” She was walking on thin ice. You’re talking to a Dark Lord, remember? One false move, and you could be picking the fight of your life, you know?
Uncomfortably full, Éa cradled her stomach and stretched out on the meadow, showing poor etiquette.
“Man, you elves really don’t have any manners,” the gremlin called her out. She’d had it coming.
“He’s right; you’re being very rude. Take a seat,” I gently scolded her. Anything harsher might start the waterworks again, and I couldn’t have that.
“Excuse me, Lady Éa, but why did you follow us here? Where are Lord Shuna, Lady Bel, and Mistress Lana?” Machina asked. I’d been curious about that, too, but the tense confrontation had pushed the question out of mind.
“Oh! ……I forgot. I headed back to camp to get a talkie device, but then I saw you two walking off and followed you.”
“And where are the others?”
“Probably having a drink at the boss’s bar.”
“Go home now,” I ordered. “I’m worried about Lana.”
“I will. Just let my stomach settle a bit.”
“Fine, but at least sit in a proper chair.” It was bad enough for her to expose her little, long legs. This was too much.
“Yaya, carry me.” She stretched her arms toward me. We’re in public, you know? In front of a Dark Lord, no less. “Carry meee,” she whined while swaying her arms around.
………Guess I can’t say no!
Sliding my hands beneath her legs and under her arm, I picked the petulant elf up and, as one would call it, princess-carried her over to the table to put her down, but I failed in my attempt. She’d wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Éa, let go.”
“I don’t wanna.” What kind of idiot goes around cuddling with his little sister in front of a regicidal overlord? If this got me killed, it wouldn’t even be funny.
“Machina.”
“On iiit.”
“Hey! Wait, Yaya!”
I peeled my stubborn sister off me and handed her to Machina. “Take her back to camp. Don’t let her go until you get there.”
“Roger that.”
“Waiiiiiiiit!”
Elven princess in tow, Machina scuttled off, disappearing across the meadow. That emergency measure really did come in handy. I turned back toward the Dark Lord and the goblin, both sipping after-dinner tea. “I’m so terribly sorry for my sister’s rude behavior.”
“Thus says my Lord: ‘O Otherworlder, this curry was truly an exquisite feast. If you would agree to reveal your recipe for the seasoning, I shall forgive all your trespasses against—’” The cloaked skeleton poked the goblin midsentence. “C’mon, man, that elf was so rude.”
“Um, I’d be happy to share the recipe if that’s—”
“Don’t be silly! You’ve got to keep your cooking secrets safe! Don’t just give them away so easily!”
Who said that?
“My lord, not sure you wanna speak for—”
“Well, I wanna be part of the conversation, too!” The girlie voice came from the skeleton. Though clearly older, it had a youthful timbre and was cute like Machina’s. The voice sounded like something you’d hear in an anime, a cloying concoction of honey and simple syrup.
“Let me introduce myself again. My name is Gormlaith Melphorjuna Gastolfo. Though currently a sinister spirit who ascended to the throne of Dark Lord, I once devoted my life to the prosperity of the Great Land as an adventurer and descendant of Lady Gastolfo, Goddess of Fertility.”
For a moment, I froze up, and my expression went blank. Then the nerves from the dire situation and a whole crazy mix of emotions bubbled together, and—
“Pffft!”
—I burst out in laughter.
“That’s so mean!”
“S-sorry, hee-hee. Pfft, ha-ha, heh-heh-heh.” I couldn’t help it. The harder I tried to hold it in, the harder I laughed. That voice—it was too much. C’mon, who’d ever expect a Dark Lord to talk like a girly girl?! She was intimidating with her bones and cape, but she had the most adorable, syrupy-sweet voice!
I—I can’t. I’m dead.
Knowing full well how rude I was being, I couldn’t keep my smile in check. I fell over cackling, then pounded the ground. The everyday stress probably added to my strong reaction. My emotions seemed ready to explode, and just as I was about to burst out roaring with laughter—I hit myself repeatedly over the head with Agaccion’s blade.