9
Al dragged Lyp out of the library. His hair had completely fallen out, and his eyes were sunken in. He was murmuring deliriously, drooling profusely. The old man had completely lost his mind.
“Y’know, I feel kinda guilty about this. Wonder why.”
As he dragged the old man’s heavy body, Al was making himself cringe. Neutralizing without killing—in the long run, neutralizing was the optimal solution, but how was this any less vicious than what Lyp had schemed for Priscilla?
“Well, better it happen to a shitty old geezer than a hot chick. That definitely takes the edge off.”
Quickly justifying his own actions, Al continued to the front hall of the mansion. Since Schult had nobody else to turn to, he would have needed to run outside, though—
“Sir Al!”
Just as Al reached the grand staircase in the front hall, which connected the first two floors of the house, he heard a voice calling him from below. He looked and saw a crowd of servants gathered in the front hall, with Schult standing in front of the door. And the icing on the cake: Beside the boy stood—
“My, you sure caused a ruckus in my absence.”
With her hand on her hip and the knight by her side, she appeared needlessly pompous. She gazed up at Al on the stairs, gave a pouting snort, and said, “Al, stop staring down at me like that, you disrespectful oaf. Come down at once and explain what happened during my absence.”
“Uhh…copy that. I’ll come down when I feel like it.”
“That sounds like a man who has no intention of coming down.”
Priscilla winked one eye, forgiving Al for his little joke at the top of the grand staircase. But then a flustered man interrupted their little master-servant banter.
“Now wait just a minute, Lady Priscilla! Hasn’t that man in the helmet done something to Baron Lyp?” Gilian pointed.
“Mmm? Well, would you look at that? That’s the old geezer Al’s dragging. What happened, then? Did that geezer finally despair over his own stupidity and hang himself?”
Gilian was shocked by Priscilla’s insensitive reaction, but Al smirked at her behavior as he hoisted Lyp up and said, “Nope, not dead. Well, his body is not dead, if we’re gonna be technical about it. But his soul seems to have died suddenly.”
“Sudden death?” Priscilla asked in acceptance, completely devoid of emotion. “Well, he is at that age. That sort of thing happens to the elderly.”
Gilian barked back, “Do you honestly expect me to let those dumb excuses slide?!” He took a step in front of Priscilla, drew the sword from his belt, and thrust it toward Al, who was still on the stairs. “You monster… I overlooked your grotesque appearance because I heard you were Lady Priscilla’s servant. But it appears you were a fool I should not have allowed to walk free. What you did to Baron Lyp is heinous.”
“Again, dude’s not dead.”
“However! Those poisoned fangs of yours shall never bare themselves at Lady Priscilla. From this day forth, I shall take on the task of being her protector!”
As Gilian huffed and puffed, he further solidified his image as a champion of justice. Meanwhile, Al on the staircase looked like a villain (in part because he was holding a living corpse in his arms).
Every servant in the hall held their breath and waited to see how things would play out. Having said that, the only one of them who was truly worried for Al was Schult. All the other servants were Lyp’s pawns. Even if Gilian did manage to push through, their future prospects were quite grim.
And the conditions for Al’s trump card had not been met yet. What should I do now? he mused to himself.
“It would seem you’ve accepted you are at a disadvantage,” Gilian said. “Then die honorably by my sword. I don’t know what sort of nefarious scheme you’ve concocted, but I shall ensure Lady Priscilla’s safety from now on. I shall give her days of constant peace and make her a happy bride!”
Energized, Gilian took a step forward, aiming to kill Al in one fell swoop. But just before his first foot could kick off the ground running—
“Days of constant peace—how boring.” Priscilla yawned.
Then she stabbed Gilian in the back with her crimson sword.
“Wha…? Ah?!”
Gilian fell onto the stairs with a shocked cry, a gaping wound in his back. Priscilla kicked him onto his back and thrust the tip of her blade at the horrified man’s handsome nose.
“I was looking forward to see what kind of line you’d use to try to seduce me, but now I see you’re a boring man both on dragon-back and in a duel. And the final nail in the coffin—you wish to gift me days of constant peace? You are lord of the plebs.”
“What…are you…?”
“What value is there in a tomorrow just like today? Constant anything is boring. Show me something novel and new. And if you can’t do that, then you can go ahead and die, rot, become fertilizer, and then become a tree so I won’t have to look at you anymore, damn fool.”
Priscilla rained merciless insults down upon the man who had been intent on courting her favor. By then, Gilian could only half understand what the red woman before him was saying. And before he ever could reach an understanding, his chance would be stolen for eternity.
“Whoa…”
Gilian’s body suddenly burst into flame on the stairs. The flames, igniting from the wound in his back, shrouded the handsome man—Gilian Endymion—in an inferno from which he could not escape. His throat set ablaze, Gilian could not even cry out in anguish as he burned away.
“Princess…don’t ya think maybe we should put him out before the house catches fire?”
“Nonsense. Those flames were born from my Sunlight Blade. It burns only what I tell it to.”
It was incomprehensible logic, but the fire wasn’t climbing along the carpet on the stairs. Apparently, Priscilla’s claim was somehow true. Al could only sigh tiredly at her usual exceptionalism. Incidentally, the crimson blade she had drawn out of nowhere suddenly vanished into thin air.
“Well, I guess only an idiot would be surprised by your sleight of hand by now, Princess. But anyway, what’re we gonna do about all this mess, burning man included?”
“I dislike the stench of burning flesh, no matter how many times I smell it. You lot, dispose of it.”
Without hesitation, the servants Priscilla commanded whisked away Gilian, who was now a completely blackened lump. Seeing this, it finally dawned on Al.
“Lemme guess, Princess…you knew what the old fart was plotting all along?”
“From the very start, he never hid his intentions to use me to seize power in the kingdom. It wasn’t hard to imagine what sort of tactics the geezer would employ to do so. It is only natural to clip an eager moth’s wings before it can fly into a lantern.”
“Hardcore… You’re on a whole different level.”
Al couldn’t help but laugh at the image—an old man with a deeply seated ambition that had been burning for so many years, and the hand that’d been pulling his strings all along. Not only had he lacked the support of the subjects of the baronry, he also had no true allies in the mansion, either. And the one ally he had managed to grasp was now a pile of ash.
“By the way, if you were really ten chess moves ahead and were ready to do the old man in, why didn’t you tell me and Schult about it? I could’ve avoided all that weird playacting.”
“Because you have no talent for it—just take a look. Schult is no better. Look how flustered he gets by the mere sight of me. It was a strain to hold myself back from laughing all those times.”
“Uh, um…P-Princess Priscilla…” Schult approached Priscilla and Al, who had let Lyp fall onto the stairs while they had their chat. Priscilla folded her arms to accentuate her breasts, and Schult’s eyes wandered in confusion.
Perhaps the boy wanted to apologize for nearly conspiring against her. But he would have to choose his words wisely lest her wrath befall him. Just as Al was steeling himself to stand up for the boy if needed—
“Thank goodness you’re all right, my lady… Sniff! I… Sniff! …I was so worried…”
“Hmm.”
When he saw Schult’s face, wet with tears and snot, Al sighed over his own stupidity. How could he measure a boy barely over ten years old with so much foolish knowledge pushed onto him? That pitiful old geezer, who’d decided how everything should be and never bothered to look at how things were, left this world a lonely man with nobody truly on his side—he had seen it with his own eyes.
“Oh, Schult, you are such a lovable little fellow. Come! I’ll let you get my dress dirty just this once.”
“Wapf!”
Priscilla brought the sobbing Schult to her, happily wiping his face with her dress. Then she hugged the dazed boy to her bosom and turned to Al.
“Way to make a guy jealous.”
“You should already know this, but you were right to choose me. I’ll praise you for that.”
“Hey, if the choices are an old fart and a horny-cute girl, I’ll choose the girl every time. Anybody would. And I’ll do that from now on.”
“How frank… I rather like that. Now then—” She glanced at Lyp, who was lying on the floor with glazed eyes, and gave a little snort. “In a rather sad turn of events, my legal husband has just lost his power as lord of these lands. This puts the future of the Bariel baronry in jeopardy. I have no choice but to assume the full rights and responsibilities as a member of this household. Is that not so?”
“A good wife carries out the will of her beloved husband, struggling with unfamiliar bureaucratic work. The devoted acts of a beautiful girl—it’s a real tearjerker. I’m already crying.”
“Sharp tongue you’ve got.”
“You too, Princess.”
The like-minded master and servant laughed and smiled in satisfaction. The matter of title was settled. It was a good start.
Then there was Schult, his face pressing deep into Priscilla’s cleavage and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Priscilla took his face in both hands and ran her fingers through his hair as she said:
“There, there, what’s wrong, Schult? Laugh, my boy. Your beloved princess is in a great mood. So what is her underling supposed to do? You know the answer, I trust?”
“Y-yes! I do know, Princess!”
Standing up straight and tall, Schult carefully steadied his breath and gave a big smile. Pressing his hands to his cheeks, he forced his face into a smile. Then in the loudest voice he could muster—
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha—so be it, my lady!”
“Yes, quite good. Now, once you’ve finished laughing, do you know what it is I want next?”
“You will be wanting tea, my lady!”
“Indeed!”
Pulling her fan from her cleavage and opening it with a snap, Priscilla descended the stairs. Al followed behind her, and Schult behind him, laughing until his voice got hoarse.
“Goodness, this is exhilarating. I like this. After all…”
As he listened to her laugh, Al realized why he had chosen her. It wasn’t all that complicated. It was really quite simple—he had been bewitched by her alluring charm.
“…this world bends itself to suit me.”
<Fin>
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