The room's unusual decor made Albedo gasp in surprise.
Her own chamber lay closest to the Supreme Being's, and she had assumed Lord Sieg's quarters would mirror that austere elegance. Yet this—this was something else entirely.
Noticing Sieg watching her, Albedo quickly withdrew her hand, folded her wings tightly against her back, and lowered her gaze.
"Oh no!"
Sieg chuckled softly, finding her flustered demeanor oddly endearing. "What's wrong?"
"I lost my composure," she murmured, pressing a slender hand to her chest. Her golden eyes gleamed with fervent devotion. "If Lord Sieg is displeased, please punish me. Whether it be whip or worse—I will endure it without complaint."
"No need," he said gently. "I already know your loyalty, Albedo."
It's just an illusion, he reminded himself. She's still the same Albedo—but now, even more the image of a succubus.
He almost mused that she might soon shed the old title of "disgrace to the succubus race."
—Wait. What am I thinking?
Unlike Ainz Ooal Gown, whose thoughts sometimes betrayed him before guilt set in, Sieg regarded his friend's child with nothing but quiet admiration. He'd lived a life of discipline and abstinence for so long that he was hardly skilled in navigating such… intense affection.
"Thank you for your magnanimity, Lord Sieg."
"By the way," he added, glancing around the opulent chamber, "aside from the cleaning maids, you're the first Guardian to enter my room."
In truth, this was his first time seeing it since its completion. Even he was struck by the lavishness—the gilded arches, the enchanted tapestries shimmering with starlight, the floor inlaid with obsidian and moonstone.
"It is my honor," Albedo replied, her voice calm despite the storm within.
Yet every subtle motion betrayed her: her wings trembled faintly, her fingers twitched at her sides, and her pupils—normally sharp ovals—had softened into near-hearts.
Sieg, ever the practiced socialite, masked his unease with practiced ease. "Albedo," he said casually, "what food did you bring? I'm a bit hungry."
Instantly, she shifted into her role as Overseer Guardian—composed, graceful, professional.
"Of course, Lord Sieg. Today's main course is Frostbite Dragon Steak, harvested from the Ancient Frost Wyrm of Jotunheim. The appetizer features skewered lobster glazed in honeyed nectar. The soup is a velvety blend of sun-ripened tomatoes and World Tree eggs from Alfheim. For dessert, we have Golden Black Tea Ice Cream infused with stardust essence. As it grows late, I prepared no coffee—only fresh juice from the sacred Elf Tree of Alfheim."
She finished her recitation like a liturgy, wings spreading slightly as she awaited his response.
Sieg nodded. Though there were no steamed buns—a personal favorite—he couldn't deny the meal suited this body's ravenous appetite. Meat would be far more sustaining.
That Albedo, of all people, had personally overseen this… it spoke volumes. Such duties belonged to the maids. Her effort was unmistakable—and touching.
(And no, dragonkin consuming dragon meat wasn't cannibalism. In YGGDRASIL's lore, dragonkin were a distinct, alien species—never blood relatives of true dragons. Their popularity stemmed from their multi-form nature and the famed "Dragon Heart" transformation item, which let players emulate draconic power without choosing an unplayable race.)
With a serene smile, Albedo lifted a piece of steak with her chopsticks. "Please open your mouth, Lord Sieg."
A beat of silence.
Sieg blinked—then instinctively caught the morsel between his teeth. His jaw worked mechanically; years of habit demanded chewing, though his enhanced physiology could digest raw stone if needed.
After swallowing, his expression turned grave.
"Albedo… your affection for me stems from altered settings. It isn't your true self speaking. If those parameters changed again—if you were made to love another—you'd feel the same intensity toward them."
He chose his words carefully, but truthfully. He knew better than anyone: her will had been overwritten. Perhaps the Emerald Tablet's designation of her as a "scoundrel" had been a final, ironic safeguard.
(Though calling her a scoundrel felt unjust.)
Albedo tilted her head slightly. "Has my behavior… caused you trouble?"
Sieg hesitated. Yes—but I won't say that.
"What matters to me," he said softly, "is your true heart. Do you understand?"
Moonlight spilled through the window, cleaving the room in halves—one bathed in silver, the other cloaked in shadow. A faint smile played on his lips, enigmatic and warm.
Albedo's pulse raced. Heat rose to her cheeks, hidden only by the dimness.
"Though I feel content as I am," she whispered, "I shall strive to seek the truth within myself—as my Lord commands. I will not fail you."
Sieg exhaled inwardly. That was enough. As one of Nazarick's Three Great Sages, she would grasp his meaning.
"If the Guild Master were alive," he mused aloud, "he'd be furious I tampered with your settings."
Albedo leaned forward, her perfume—warm amber and night-blooming jasmine—drifting toward him. "On the contrary… the Emerald Tablet would thank Lord Ainz for his kindness. And Lord Sieg…" Her voice dropped to a velvet murmur. "…would make an excellent husband."
Impossible! Sieg thought, panic flickering beneath his calm. He knew his comrades well. If Jade Record—ever the stickler for original code—saw his settings altered, he'd erupt in righteous fury. Public execution wouldn't be enough; they'd be branded perverts in the guild logs for eternity.
Dinner ended swiftly after that. Albedo summoned a maid to clear the table, then stepped into the corridor, closing the door with deliberate gentleness.
Inside, Sieg yawned—exhaustion finally catching up—and collapsed onto the bed, asleep before his head fully touched the pillow.
Outside, she nearly collided with Sebastian on patrol.
"Ah, Lady Albedo." He bowed slightly. "Lord Sieg has retired?"
"Yes. He sleeps soundly."
Sebastian noted her radiant expression. "Something good happened?"
Albedo's smile turned sly, edged with quiet triumph. "Indeed," she purred. "Very good."
Lord Sieg… you will be mine.