Chapter 190: Meeting the Sister
Lakyus turned a warm smile on Lucian.
"Brother. Sebas-san." She gave a small, composed bow — the reflexive courtesy of someone raised to it. "Good afternoon."
The warmth of her expression sent cold sweat running down Lucian's back in under a second.
"...Good afternoon, Lakyus." He kept his voice as steady as he could.
Sebas, standing half a step behind, had registered none of the tension whatsoever. He inclined his head pleasantly toward Lakyus. "Good afternoon, Miss Aindra."
Lakyus's eyes hadn't moved from Lucian's face. They narrowed, slightly, the way a cat's do when it's just located something.
"Brother." Her voice was still perfectly sweet. "Where are you two off to?"
Lucian's throat moved. He was rapidly running through his options.
Sebas delivered the killing blow from slightly to the left, completely helpfully: "Lord Lucian and I are on our way to pay a visit to Her Majesty the Dragon Queen."
Lucian felt something in his chest drop about fifteen degrees.
Sebas gave a pleasant nod toward Lakyus, entirely unaware that anything had gone wrong. Lakyus tilted her head. "Oh, a visit to Her Majesty." A beat. "How interesting that Brother didn't mention it. Was I not supposed to come?"
The presence building behind her smile was starting to have a physical weight to it. Lucian had been navigating situations like this his entire life and he wasn't about to let the panic show now. He let his expression settle into something casual, raised one hand, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I was just coming to find you — I went to get Sebas first. Didn't expect you'd already come looking for me."
Lakyus held his gaze. "Is that right?" Skepticism, barely leashed.
"That's right." He met her eyes without flinching. "Perfect timing. Let's all go see Her Majesty together."
Lakyus stared at him for a few more seconds.
From somewhere further in the camp came the voices of soldiers working, mixed with the clean sound of horse hooves on stone.
She finally nodded.
The smile eased back into something slightly more genuine, though the measuring quality hadn't entirely left her eyes. The temperature at least was no longer cold enough to leave a mark. "Alright. Since Brother says I should come."
She took two steps toward him and settled naturally into position half a step behind and to his right.
Lucian exhaled internally for what felt like a very long time. His face showed nothing. He turned toward the city.
"Then let's go."
The three of them headed toward the royal palace.
The wind came down the street and lifted the gold of Lucian's hair. He didn't look back — but he could feel Lakyus's gaze resting on him between his shoulder blades.
He quietly picked up his pace.
The royal palace walls appeared ahead, grey-white stone carrying a warm gleam in the afternoon light. The guards at the gate spotted Lucian from a distance and snapped to attention. He nodded at them and walked through the open gate.
The moment he crossed the threshold, a figure in dark formal robes stepped out from the corridor's shadow. Prime Minister Bergmann, his lined face arranged into an appropriate smile.
"Lord Aindra." A slight bow.
"Thank you for your trouble, Prime Minister." Lucian returned it.
Bergmann's gaze moved past Lucian and settled briefly on Lakyus. The warmth in his expression deepened by a fraction. "Her Majesty has been waiting for some time. Please follow me."
The four of them moved down the corridor, their footsteps falling in uneven rhythm. Through the diamond-pattern windows, afternoon sunlight came in at a slant and scattered gold fragments across the floor.
At the door to the reception room, Lucian stopped.
The door was right in front of him, carved with elaborate dragon motifs. Through it, he could just make out faint footsteps inside. Probably Draudillon dropping down from wherever she'd been sitting, landing softly on the carpet.
His hand hovered over the door without coming down.
Bergmann, standing half a step behind, took in the hesitation with complete composure. Something knowing settled into the lines of that aged face. Naturally — Lord Aindra was nervous, facing the object of his affections. For all his combat capability, youth was youth.
"Lord Aindra." The prime minister offered what he clearly considered helpful encouragement. "No need to be nervous. Her Majesty has prepared a small surprise for you."
Lucian's body went still.
A surprise.
That word, coming from Bergmann's mouth, had approximately the same effect as a hunter telling trapped prey to relax. It didn't comfort him at all. It sent his threat assessment straight to the top.
The last time Draudillon produced a "surprise," she had seized his hand and performed the full fawning act directly in front of Sebas. Now Bergmann was proactively deploying the word. There was no telling what variation she'd come up with this time. What if the door opened and the first thing out of her mouth was "Lord Lucian, you've finally come to marry me —"
He stopped that thought there.
From behind him, Lakyus's voice arrived at exactly the right volume — kept low, and absolutely saturated with sweetness. "Brother. Why haven't you gone in?"
He didn't turn around. He didn't need to. "Are you afraid of something?"
That landed squarely in his back. He was reaching for a vague deflection — and then Sebas's voice came from the other side, carrying an entirely different register. Grave. Careful.
"Lord Lucian. Shall I go in first and check?"
Lucian's temple throbbed. Sebas had clearly and completely misread the situation and was operating under the assumption that some kind of trap or hidden ambush had been set inside the reception room.
"That won't be necessary, Sebas." He worked to keep his voice easy. "This is a straightforward audience. There's nothing dangerous here."
Probably, he added in the privacy of his own head.
Sebas's brow remained faintly furrowed. Those pale grey eyes moved carefully over the gap in the door, as though trying to sense presences through solid wood. After a moment he gave a small nod — apparently confirming that no powerful entity was concealed inside.
Lucian looked at Sebas's careful expression and registered the three distinct sources of pressure currently bearing down on him from three different directions.
With the resigned spirit of someone who had nothing left to try, he made a private wager in his head.
I'll trade the remainder of Sebas's unoccupied romantic future... for Draudillon not fawning at me in front of Lakyus.
Using Sebas's long-term happiness for his own immediate peace of mind — admittedly not a transaction that held up to ethical scrutiny. Then again, at this point, Sebas was essentially shaped around Touch Me's gravitational field. He probably wasn't going to have much use for that particular commodity anyway.
No gain without sacrifice. He issued a silent apology to Sebas.
Then he pushed the door open.
The hinges turned with a quiet sound that moved through the reception room.
Warm sunlight spread in patches across the dark wood floor. A faint floral scent in the air.
Draudillon was standing in the center of the room, wearing a pale pink dress with a full, buoyant skirt that made her look even smaller than she already was.
Lucian's eyes found her first, confirming that her gaze was aimed in his direction.
She wasn't rushing toward him. No fawning in evidence.
His heart settled by a degree. The wager appeared to be working.
He was about to actually exhale when he noticed that Draudillon's gaze had moved past him.
The Queen's eyes had settled on the figure behind him. Specifically, on the gold-haired woman in red-and-white armor.
Lucian's breathing paused.
Draudillon took a step. Her stride was small but the pace was quick, the pale pink skirt swaying with each movement like a small flower caught in spring wind. She covered the distance in a near-run — and not toward Lucian. She moved past him as though he were furniture, angled straight for Lakyus.
Lucian looked down at the small figure rushing past him.
His brain went briefly and completely empty.
Draudillon stopped in front of Lakyus. She tilted her head back — at her height, without the tilt, her line of sight would have landed somewhere around Lakyus's waist. She reached out a small hand.
"Are you the little sister?" Draudillon's voice was soft and slightly childlike, but there was a deliberate quality to it — she was making a real effort to sound like an adult, and the gap between the effort and the result was unexpectedly charming.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Draudillon. You can call me Big Sister."
That small hand closed around Lakyus's fingertips.
Time stopped.
Lucian stood there looking down at Draudillon, his expression traveling from relaxed to confused to completely frozen. The entire journey took under three seconds. Sebas wore a mildly puzzled expression — he hadn't quite sorted out what was happening. Bergmann, standing just inside the door with his hands folded behind his back, watched all of it in calm silence.
The corner of his mouth curved up by the smallest possible margin.
Inwardly, he was applauding.
Her Majesty had chosen wisely. Rather than approaching Lord Aindra directly, she had targeted his sister — expressing intimacy while making it seem entirely natural. The oblique approach, establishing connection from the side rather than making a direct declaration, often produced results that a head-on strategy couldn't. And when it came to performing the adorable fawning act, doing it with a woman proved considerably more natural. Facing an adult woman who stood taller than her, that genuine little-girl quality came through on its own, without the slight instinctive stiffening that sometimes happened when facing Lord Aindra.
"...Your Majesty?"
Lakyus's voice came from above. She was somewhat surprised that this small girl had called her "little sister." On reflection, though — perhaps this was a custom in this country. She started to crouch down, her noble upbringing automatically triggering the impulse to bow before a reigning monarch.
The movement was slightly mechanical. Slower than her usual grace. Her eyes stayed on Draudillon's young, girlish face for a long moment.
"No need for formality." Draudillon rose onto her toes, following Lakyus's descent, and reached up to pat the top of Lakyus's head with that small hand. The gesture carried the particular indulgent warmth of an elder sister attending to a younger one.
"Once we're married, we'll be family. You're Lord Lucian's sister, so naturally you're my sister too. No need to be formal about it."
Flames lit in Lakyus's eyes.
This little girl — who looked no more than five or six — had just put the words "married" and "family" in the same breath.
Those words hit like a lit fuse and ignited everything underneath.
Brother is trying to do something with a girl this small?
Lakyus was on her feet in an instant, her eyes locking directly on the doorway.
Lucian's left foot had already crossed the threshold. His right foot was suspended in the air. His entire posture was that of someone who had quietly completed his preparations and was ready to leave at speed.
"Brother —" Lakyus's voice came through clenched teeth, precise and controlled. "Where are you going?"
Lucian's body locked. His right foot came back to the ground on reflex, landing in the exact center of the doorway. Caught cleanly between advancing and retreating.
"...I just needed some air." His voice was slightly thin.
Lakyus was already in front of him.
In the angled sunlight, her shadow fell large across him, putting him entirely in shade. "Some air?" she repeated the phrase in a completely level tone that somehow made it difficult to breathe. "During an audience with Her Majesty, you need to step out for air?"
"Mm... the reception room was a bit warm—"
"Then perhaps Brother can explain 'married' and 'family.'"
Sebas was watching all of this with a slightly distant expression — he hadn't entirely worked out what had happened. But something else surfaced in his mind, unbidden: a memory from a long time ago, in YGGDRASIL's guild hall. Bukubukuchagama-sama and Peroroncino-sama had been like this. The moment those two were in the same space, they would immediately start needling each other — always bickering, always laughing, and clearly fond of each other underneath all of it.
That quality of warmth underneath the noise, the particular texture of genuine sibling friction — it had something in common with what was in front of him now that he couldn't entirely put into words.
He stood where he was, gaze going slightly unfocused. A faint, involuntary smile found the corner of his mouth.
Lakyus had taken hold of the back of Lucian's collar.
He tilted backward slightly — the posture of someone caught by a larger predator. He glanced in Sebas's direction, expecting the old butler to say something useful.
He found Sebas with his head tilted back, gaze drifting gently toward the ceiling, wearing the most serenely useless expression possible.
The corner of Lucian's mouth made an involuntary movement. Completely useless.
He sighed internally, and turned back to meet the fire in Lakyus's eyes.
"Lakyus, I can explain —"
"Can you, Brother?" Lakyus's grip on his collar did not ease.
A short distance away, Draudillon stood with her hands clasped behind her back, heels slightly lifted, wearing the most perfectly assembled expression of pure, innocent blamelessness that had ever been assembled on a human face.
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