Chapter 373: An Unexpected Warmth

The Wessin Bridge was the picture of tranquillity. Like a stalwart guardian in the night, it stood beneath the pale moonlight, its tall silhouette enduring and proud–much like the kingdom it defended. 

As the river flowed into the glimmering estuary beyond it, the calmness of the water’s surface was disturbed only by the odd whisper of a nightly breeze, the falling leaves of the nearby woodlands, and the carnivorous needlefish as they occasionally skipped into the air to impale a low-diving heron. 

Silence and stillness walked hand-in-hand amidst the streets.

The debauchery which had first welcomed me was no more. The farmers misled into voicing their ire were absent, while the knights who’d answered the challenge of an errant leech had become the snorts of horses and the grumblings of squires in the distance. Even the alley cats were not to be seen.

After all–

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

They’d all honourably slinked away, knowing when they were well bested in raucousness.

Although the world was calm for one more evening, within a guildhall indistinguishable from the many pubs and inns which bordered it, drunken revelry still claimed ownership here.

Just as it always did.  

And so–a wooden keg rolled across the floor.

Not just a bottle of wine or a tankard, of which there were many. But an actual keg the size of the gentleman currently doing laps about the common room. He was being encouraged by the lady attempting to sit on said keg. She failed, rolling into the legs of a table and all to sit around it. 

A punch was thrown, followed by a laugh of camaraderie, a toast to friendship and better tomorrows, and then finally another punch.

The next moment, I watched as a brawl ensued.

Astonishing.

I’d seen adventurers at both their worst and their worst. Yet somehow, they’d managed to find a shovel sturdy enough to dig a slightly deeper hole for standards to reside in.

There were so many tankards staining the floor that only a fire could save it. And yet they still worked to honour whichever patron deity of hooliganism they worshipped.

It didn’t matter whether it was the beginning or the end of the day to these layabouts, of course. Impropriety was forever and drunkenness doubly so. Yet as the instigators of the emergency plan to placate my subjects with alcohol, they’d doubtless been leading from the front. 

And also since the morning.

Normally, such a scene was enough to monopolise all my regret. But despite the alcohol, the fists and the off-key singing flailing in all directions, I now found myself leaning away from a far bigger concern. 

A glossy white box. 

With a red ribbon.

In stark contrast to the stains clinging on every surface, a neat box as shiny as it was ominous waited upon the desk of the smiling receptionist. 

I didn’t know what horrified me more. The fact we made eye contact or that the box where she kept all the souls she collected was on display, ready to efficiently scoop up anyone who succumbed to the weight of their shamelessness.

I pursed my lips.

“Coppelia.”

“Yes?”

“My princess senses are tingling.”

My loyal handmaiden blinked, her head turning in all directions.

“Hmm … are you sure? I don’t sense any explosions.”

“It’s not explosions I’m concerned with.” 

“Oh, okay. Want me to get a table for us to hide under, anyway?”

“No.” I paused. “… At least not yet. And if you do, please select one without any stains. If that’s not possible, you’ll need to build a table.”

“Got it! What’s the tingling about?”

“I’m not certain. However, there is an ill omen in the air. I can sense it like a smile from my mother. If necessary, you may need to carry me away at short notice. I’ll give the signal.”

“Alrighty~! What’s the signal?”

“I’ll say the code word, ‘help, help, help, help, help’.”

Coppelia nodded at once, her enthusiasm second only to my subtleness.

“Observe carefully,” I added, eyes fixed upon the receptionist clearly waiting for me to approach. “I’m going to collect our reward for quenching the ire of my peasants. If I feel she’ll respond in a way unrelated to that, I’ll give the signal. However, should she manage to incapacitate me or steal my soul, you must use your own judgement to hurry me away.”

“No worries! I’ll definitely watch. And also do something.” 

I smiled, satisfied at her diligence.

Then, after gathering myself with a short breath, I made my way over to the only wooden surface not to be irreparably stained with alcohol. The desk.

“Greetings!” said the receptionist, her back a perfect line as she offered a professional smile from behind her desk. “Welcome to the Wessin Bridge branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. It’s delightful to see you again. How may I help?”

Showing no fear, I matched her unbending posture with my own.

“Ohohoho … why, you may help me by funding my stay in the least downtrodden inn! Rejoice, unnamed receptionist #8. I’ve successfully answered the concerns of the peasantry. The darkness hounding them from the nearby woodlands has been judged by the light of my smile. And also the concentrated power of the sun. I’ve removed an errant vampire scheming from the poorly furnished shadows–along with the ruffians tasked with lackey duty. Even now, they express their joy to a minotaur who is teaching them the ways of redemption.”

I waited for the appropriate look of shock … hopefully followed by a large chest of gold.

Instead, the receptionist merely nodded and smiled.

“That’s wonderful news!” she said, with the same exuberance whenever an F-rank adventurer didn’t succumb to their wounds while kidnapping a tabby cat. “Goodness, to think that such darkness dwelled nearby! With their plight solved, the farmers can rest easy.”

“No, quite the opposite. They can work harder. Now, you needn’t gasp as you clearly wish to–nor do you need to offer me any certificates. All I desire is my reward.”

“Of course. Please give me a moment.”

The receptionist needed less than that.

As though she was already prepared, she retrieved a modest bag from behind the desk. So modest, in fact, that I could scarcely hear the tinkling as she placed it before me.

“I confirm the successful completion of the commission. Your reward is 28 gold crowns.”

I stared at the pittance of a reward.

It was even less than what I received for doing away with a dryad. Or indeed, accidentally saving a large group of cats. Twice.

Even so, it wasn’t the insufficient taxes of my farmers which caused my hand to remain where it was.

Yes … something was wrong.

“Excuse me, but you misplaced a step,” I pointed out.

“Oh?” The receptionist blinked in surprise. “Which would that be?”

“I believe this is where you accost me for access to my copper ring. And while touching it is something I normally avoid at all costs, I’ve no desire to be chased to the ends of the world for the sake of whatever bureaucracy needs to be satisfied once this mistake is realised.”   

To my horror, the receptionist merely giggled.

Slowly, one by one, the masks were coming undone.

“I’m deeply moved by your thoughtfulness. But you needn’t be concerned. While it’s true that I would typically request the copper ring of any adventurer accepting or completing a commission, that is unnecessary for yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“Every receptionist in the Kingdom of Tirea is well versed in your exploits, Miss Juliette. As a result, you do not require identifying. Your feats are also no longer recorded exclusively in your copper ring, but separately in a dedicated achievements drawer overseen by a team of receptionists. I’ll soon be notifying my colleagues of your actions this evening. I’m certain they’re already waiting eagerly.”

I took a step back, my hands covering my mouth.

The … The conspiracy … it was widening!!

They knew my face! And now they had a blackmail drawer detailing all the things I officially didn’t do! 

Soon, I’d be waking up to the sight of receptionists smiling while leaning over me … and if I was fortunate, it was to assassinate me!

“Pffffftt.”

Beside me, Coppelia was equally distraught. Both hands covered her lips as the least sad noise of despair ever made left her. 

I offered a perfectly natural, creaking smile towards the receptionist.

“O-Ohohoho … I … I see … that is … that is quite convenient, yes …”

“It is the least we can do. Your accomplishments speak for themselves. To offer our recognition to an adventurer who symbolises the guild code so earnestly is something we all enjoy.”  

“In … Indeed … ? Why, I’m deeply flattered … and an achievements drawer, you say … ?”

“Yes, it contains all your history. An unabridged account of your every deed.”

“My, how delightful … ! And where would such a drawer be … ? Approximately, that is … to the city, room and exact cabinet … ?

“It’s somewhere safe.”

“Goodness … I certainly hope so … ! Because it would be absolutely terrible if something were to happen to it … say, an unexplained fire in the middle of the night … ?”

My smile quivered.

And then–

I slowly pushed the small pouch of gold crowns towards the receptionist. 

She pushed it back.

“I’m delighted to have been able to meet you personally,” said the receptionist, her smile brightening by the second. “I understand that you have a very busy schedule–and I also have no wish to take up your valuable time. But if you can, I’d like you to accept a discretionary reward on behalf of myself and all my colleagues.”

She gestured towards the box of souls.

The one designed explicitly for mine. I looked at it in horror.

“E-Excuse me … ? This highly suspicious box is a reward from every receptionist … ?”

“Yes. By all means, please open it. The ribbons are not completely attached, so the lid can simply be lifted.”

An expectant smile met me. Both by the receptionist and Coppelia as my courage was tested.

For a moment, all I could feel was an inviting breeze from outside as the door briefly opened. Yet as the weight of my family’s honour settled upon my shoulders, I chose to meet the challenge.

Bravely, with an eye closed as I turned my face away … I lifted the edge of the lid.

When no fruit slime sprang out to eat me, I leaned over and stole a peek.

“Oh.”

A cake.

A strawberry shortcake, to be exact. 

And unlike the bite sized portions sitting mysteriously upon my apple trees, this one was whole. A perfectly round beacon of delight, disturbed only by the faint lines where it’d been sliced.

My studious eyes went over the abundant strawberries at once, each so ripe their juices practically glazed over a bed of whipped cream. Beneath it, more cream still with their texture intact teasingly peeked between the layers of perfectly golden sponge.

I could find no fault.

“It’s a small thing,” said the receptionist with a nod. “But I hope you can at least enjoy a slice amidst your busy schedule. It was Mirabelle, the receptionist in Reitzlake, who made the suggestion for a gift.”

I blinked and rubbed my eyes.

Still, the beautifully adorned cake sat before me. A mirage so perfect that every instinct warned me against indulging. Especially when a name I was beginning to remember was the culprit behind it.

Indeed … if this was by the harbinger of doom, then I could not accept this!

There was undoubtedly an ulterior motive! Perhaps the cake itself was laced with some alchemical or magical concoction! A means to enthrall me with some devious ingredient hidden within the layers of carefully placed decoration!

Indeed, I could never under any circumstances allow myself to … to …

“Ah?!”

I jumped slightly, startled by the sudden feeling of shortcake in my hand. And also my mouth.

It … It was so good!!

Betrayed by my own limbs, I savoured the familiar taste. Nor was I the only one to do so. 

“Omnomomonomonomonom~”

Wielding a slice of shortcake in either hand, Coppelia wasted no time in ensuring that if any amount of illicit ingredients were present, she would experience the symptoms first.

Even so, I expected her to continue eating.

Although it was not to the impeccable standards which the Royal Villa adhered to, it was by no means lacking. High quality ingredients were measured to exact amounts, with even the slices calculated to ensure even distribution of strawberries. The result was more than a rush of delight.

It was a reminder of why I was here.

I needed to ensure that my quality of life would remain unimpeded. So that once I sat beneath the boughs of my apple trees once more, I could look up and be reassured by the silhouette of a falling shortcake at any time.

And so … I chose to indulge!

After all, it was important to remember my purpose! 

Furthermore, wasn’t declining a gift that was offered in earnest simply barbarous? As a high level princess, I had to hold myself to a standard greater than to be cowed by mere thoughts of whatever terrible motive went behind this gift!

Why, if something bad were to happen, I’d at least implicate the harbinger of doom! … And if it was simply bribery for terrorising me all this time, then that only meant more reason to hire her as soon as possible! … Or rather, as soon as her presence no longer horrified me!

Eventually, however, even those thoughts faded. 

My concerns were swallowed up at the same pace as fluffy sponge layered with strawberries and cream on both sides, until even the promise of dancing mice in the ceiling above me was forgotten. 

For a moment, I was sitting upon the soft grass, visited by the fragrance of freshly watered lilacs and the maids reminding me of my scheduled mathematics lesson 4 hours ago.

Why, even the commotion of a busy guild hall no longer registered.  

“Miss Juliette … ?”

After all–

It was completely silent. 

But not through envy at the sight of the only edible source of food having evaded the communal cauldron.

Rather … it was because of the pillar of flame.

Through a window was a sight so unexpected that it induced sobriety in every adventurer, stopping them where they stood, rolled or brawled. 

A swirling tempest of undiluted wildfire rose in the distance, high enough to catch the stomach of any passing dragon. And possibly even tickle them. For it was more than the height of the flames which saw so many tankards being loosened from their hands. 

Such was its intensity, the pillar managed to light the dark recesses of the Wessin Bridge like a crackling hearth, the warmth and fury both felt even from here.

A magical flame beyond the ability of ordinary mages.

Except perhaps one.

The receptionist looked at me with concern. I looked at her. And then I did what any princess would do.

I continued eating cake.