Chapter 189: Crisis
The smell of bread was still in the air. Lucian looked at the piece Lakyus was holding out — the crescent bite mark still on the edge, a faint thread of steam.
He hesitated for a moment, then took a bite.
Crisp outside, soft inside, and noticeably sweeter than anything from the capital. It really was different.
Lakyus watched him eat and gave a satisfied nod. She took the piece back and continued eating it herself.
"Brother agrees the sweetness is just right, doesn't he?"
"Yes, not too sweet," Lucian said, which for him qualified as high praise.
His eyes drifted involuntarily to the bread in her hand. She had genuinely given him one bite and taken it back. He looked away with mild resignation. He wasn't bothered — he just found it somewhat funny that she'd been that protective of it. One bite.
They walked without hurrying, moving slowly along the market's main street.
Lakyus moved through the light, her gold hair catching the sun, the edges of the red-and-white armor picking up a glint with every step. The Dragon Kingdom border city was smaller than the capital, but with the war finally over, it had come back to life with a warmth that wasn't missing anything. Stalls lined both sides of the street: dried fruit arranged in neat mounds, the steady ring of a smithy, wooden shelves in a general goods shop stacked with cloth in every color.
Lakyus was interested in everything.
She stopped at a spice stall, bent to sniff at the dark brown powder in one of the jars, then straightened and asked the stall owner what it was used for. The owner — a middle-aged woman in a faded apron — took in the adventurer armor and the composed manner and shifted to extra-careful courtesy. Spice from the southern trade route, she said. Add a little when braising meat and it takes the gamey edge off. Lakyus nodded, set the jar back, and moved on to the next stall at a light pace.
They passed a woven goods stall. Lakyus paused, her gaze settling on the hats — careful work, lighter and darker materials woven into clean geometric patterns.
"These are nice." She picked one up, turned it over, set it back down, and looked toward the next stall.
The stall owner was an elderly woman, back bent almost double, but she looked up when she caught sight of Lucian's face and her eyes went wide, her lips moving without sound. She'd recognized him.
Lucian gave her a small nod, fished out coins from his pocket, laid them on the stall surface, and picked up both hats, stacking them together.
The old woman reached to push the money back. Lucian stopped her with a look.
Lakyus noticed the movement behind her and turned. "Brother."
"Mm?"
"What are you buying those for?"
"You wanted them, didn't you?"
The corner of Lakyus's mouth moved upward without consulting her first. She pressed it back down immediately. She walked over, took the two stacked hats from his hands, and turned them back and forth a few times, examining them closely.
"I just said they looked nice," she said. "I didn't say I wanted to buy them."
Even as she said it, she was settling one of the hats onto her own head and placing the other on top of Lucian's.
Lucian looked at this display of principled contradiction and quietly accepted his lot.
They kept moving, threading through the market's main street. The afternoon crowd was thickening — people who'd finished their midday rest, out to run errands. The occasional flat-bed cart squeezed slowly through the flow of people.
Lakyus stopped in front of a candied fruit stall.
She tucked the small bread bag under her arm and looked at the sugared fruit arranged across the stall surface — a range of colors, the sugar coating catching the sunlight.
Lucian didn't wait for her to turn around. He stepped up to the stall and said a few words to the owner — a lean middle-aged man who wrapped a small mixed assortment in clean paper and held it out with both hands. Lucian paid, turned, and passed the paper bundle to Lakyus.
She took it, peeled back a corner to look inside, nodded with approval, and tucked it into the small side pocket of her armor.
Lucian walked behind her in the quiet that followed, watching her pleased expression, taking in the easy, unhurried feel of the Dragon Kingdom around him. The peace of it was convincing enough to be dangerous.
But Lucian knew perfectly well what was underneath it.
The thing that had actually defeated the beastman nation was Nazarick. The Dragon Kingdom had won because of that — and it could just as easily be undone by the same hand.
Lakyus stopped at a street corner.
A small handcraft shop. Under the eave, a few handwoven bird ornaments hung on hooks — wings made from dried leaves, with small colored seeds dotted here and there when you looked closely.
Lakyus's gaze rested on them.
"Do you like them?" Lucian asked, from just behind her.
"They're fine," she said, turning her head slightly. "It's just that you don't see this kind of small thing very often."
Lucian followed her gaze and found a dragonfly woven from long leaves, its wings trembling faintly in the breeze — always on the verge of flying away, but never quite going anywhere.
Lakyus had already looked away. She gave his sleeve a light pull.
"Let's go, Brother. Let's see what's ahead."
The light changed without either of them quite noticing when it happened.
The clear brightness of the afternoon sun turned warm orange, coming in at an angle from the sides of the rooftops, pulling the shadows of passersby out long behind them. The foot traffic on the market street thinned as people drifted off, and some of the stall owners were already packing up, moving unsold goods back through their doors.
"Let's head back," Lakyus said softly. There was a small trace of reluctance in it.
Lucian nodded. He looked back along the road they'd come from — the market's noise had receded like a tide going out, only a handful of shops still lit, casting small warm pools into the dusk.
On the way back, his steps slowed when they reached the dragonfly ornament. Its thin wings were still moving faintly in the wind.
He reached up and lifted it off the hook. Left a few copper coins on the stall surface.
They walked back.
By the time they returned to the garrison, the night had settled in properly. Campfires burned between the tents. Smoke rose from the direction of the cook fires. One of the old veteran soldiers was crouching by a fire, turning chunks of meat on sticks — fat dripping into the flame with a steady hiss.
Lakyus yawned and waved in his direction. "Good night, Brother." She headed off toward her quarters.
"Good night."
He watched her go until her figure disappeared into the shadows between the tents. Then he reached into his coat and drew out the dragonfly.
A gust of night wind came through. The campfire light shifted and swayed. Lucian opened his hand and released his hold.
The dragonfly seemed to wake up. It followed the wind and was carried off into the dark.
He watched until it was gone. Then he went quietly back to his quarters.
The next morning, first light barely in the sky, the Aindra column had everything packed and was on the move.
From the border city near the beastman nation to the Dragon Kingdom capital, Drauvale, wasn't far — roughly two days at a steady pace. Lucian deliberately slowed the march to give the newly revived soldiers enough time to settle back into their bodies.
The column moved southwest along the Dragon Kingdom's main road. The fields on either side showed the marks of cultivation again — someone had been out there, the stripped-bare tension of the war replaced by something closer to normal. Villagers in the settlements they passed stood along the roadside and watched, their eyes on the Aindra family banner, faces carrying gratitude and relief in equal measure.
Lucian rode with his eyes on the road ahead. His thoughts were already at the destination.
Yesterday, he'd been so focused on keeping Lakyus away from the capital and its demon lord problem that he'd managed to miss something considerably worse. The meeting between Lakyus and Queen Draudillon was in itself a catastrophic scenario. His idiot little sister — if she saw Draudillon in her small, soft-featured, completely adorable loli presentation fawning at him, and then connected it to those loli-con rumors that were apparently circulating all over the kingdom...
The cold sweat was starting again.
He glanced sideways, catching Lakyus mid-column. The red-and-white armor stood out clearly in the sunlight. She was smiling, taking in the warmth from the villagers along the road. She had absolutely no idea what he was quietly panicking about right now.
He pulled his eyes forward and started running through options.
Send her back? Not a chance. He'd just agreed to let her stay — reversing that the moment they approached the capital would look even more suspicious than whatever he was worried about. And with Nazarick's movements getting harder to predict, keeping her nearby was genuinely the safer option. Even interrogation from Lakyus afterward was a better outcome than leaving her in the capital to face a demon lord who kept materializing without notice. He'd just have to manage it somehow.
He quietly rehearsed several versions of a plausible explanation.
Two days later, just past noon, the walls of Drauvale finally appeared on the horizon.
The city gates were wide open, more foot traffic than he remembered from his last visit. Word of the beastman nation's defeat had reached every corner of the Dragon Kingdom — border restrictions were being lifted, and merchant caravans and farmers' carts were backed up waiting to enter, long lines moving slowly through the gates.
Lucian raised a hand and signaled the column to slow.
His gaze settled on the organized camp that had already been set up outside the city walls. Tents in neat rows, posts driven firmly, drainage channels dug along the perimeter. This had been in preparation for days.
A familiar voice came from the direction of the camp's entrance.
"Lord Aindra." Warm in tone, with weight behind it.
Prime Minister Bergmann was walking toward him from the camp entrance. Dark formal dress, silver-white hair perfectly arranged.
"A long road," Bergmann said, his tone cordial and precisely calibrated. "I hope the camp is to your satisfaction. If there's anything you require, simply say so. Her Majesty has been awaiting your return for some time and specifically asked me to come and receive you."
He paused. His gaze moved, with no particular appearance of intent, across the faces behind Lucian — the composed, straight-backed figure of the butler Sebas, and a gold-haired woman in red-and-white armor. His eyes rested on Lakyus for slightly less than a moment, then returned to Lucian. The warm smile stayed exactly where it was.
"If it suits you, Lord Aindra, I could escort you into the city right now to pay your respects to Her Majesty. The carriage is already prepared."
Something tightened in Lucian's chest.
He glanced sideways at Lakyus behind him. If he went with the prime minister now, she would follow — and he hadn't finished working out how to handle both of them in the same room. The tightening reached his scalp. He ran through several unpleasant scenarios in rapid succession, then settled his expression into something apologetic.
"Thank you for coming personally, Prime Minister." A slight incline of the head. "However, the column only just arrived — there are still some matters of settling-in to see to. The audience with Her Majesty... might I request a little time first?"
Bergmann's eyebrow moved by a fraction that barely qualified as visible.
"Of course. You've just returned from a campaign — the troops come first. I'll go inform Her Majesty, and you may enter the city whenever you're ready. The guards will show you the way." He gave a brief nod toward Sebas and Lakyus in turn, then turned and walked back in the direction of the royal palace.
Lucian watched the prime minister's figure diminish in the distance. The weight in his chest settled.
Once the column was sorted and the troops assigned their positions, Lucian scanned the camp.
Sebas's tent was at the southernmost end, right beside the supply storage shed. The old butler had chosen that spot himself — probably to keep an eye on the surrounding area. The tent flap was down, a silhouette visible through the canvas. Lucian headed straight for it. On the other side of the camp, Lakyus was standing with the adjutant, apparently discussing something — she didn't seem to have noticed where he'd gone.
He picked up his pace.
When he lifted the flap, Sebas was seated at a low table. He looked up at the sound, recognized Lucian, and stood.
"Lord Lucian."
"Sebas." Lucian stepped into the tent and lowered the flap behind him — leaving a narrow gap to keep an eye on the camp outside. "We can go see the Queen now. It's a good opportunity to ask about the dragon intelligence."
Something lit up in Sebas's eyes. His attention was still largely on Touch Me-sama right now — but he hadn't forgotten Ainz-sama's assignment. More pressingly, he had used the dragon intelligence as the pretext for his deception. Getting that intelligence sooner would be considerably better than later.
While thinking this through, he was already adjusting his collar and cuffs. He tugged the hem of the black tailcoat straight, smoothed the silver-streaked hair at his temples.
Lucian watched this and quietly exhaled. Grateful, in a way he didn't put into words, for Sebas's professionalism.
"Then let's go." He stepped aside and lifted the flap.
Sebas followed him out.
Two steps, and Lucian stopped.
Standing just outside Sebas's tent was a figure in red-and-white armor.
Lakyus was there. Posture perfect. Her face wore a smile — the curve of the mouth exactly right, eyes warm and soft, the picture of composed elegance. Nothing to fault.
But Lucian could see perfectly clearly that in those pale green eyes, there was not a single trace of a smile.
If you're enjoying the story, toss a Power Stone or drop a review — it helps more than you'd think.
Advance chapters → patreon.com/Eatinpieces