Chapter 358: Out of Service Area

Mark had been in the meeting room for quite a while, half his body sprawled across the table and his cheek resting on one arm.

He had come in convinced that Aria would be waiting for him with one of her urgent matters, but the room was empty.

Instead, one of the palace maids had met him at the door to explain that something very important had come up for Aria, that she was very sorry, and that he should please wait there, since she wouldn’t be long.

The maid was a young beastwoman with a pair of small cinnamon-colored feathered wings on her back.

Her name was Tilly, she told him, though it took her three attempts to pronounce her own name correctly.

Mark hadn’t seen anyone so nervous in a long time.

The girl couldn’t look him in the eye. Her cheeks were flushed, her wings wouldn’t stop fluttering behind her, and every time he asked her a question, however simple, she gave a little start before answering.

The moment she finished delivering the message, Tilly bowed hurriedly and practically fled the room, nearly taking the door frame with her.

’I guess I still intimidate her,’ Mark thought with a shrug.

He couldn’t blame her too much. Having to speak directly with the Death Emperor couldn’t be a very relaxing experience for a maid, though maybe the explanation was simply that Tilly hadn’t been working there long.

After all, she was a beastwoman working in elven territory, something that would have been unthinkable just a few months earlier.

Still, the kingdom had changed quite a bit during his absence.

His wives had begun pushing a policy of integration among the different races, and one of their first measures had been to make it easier for workers from each region to settle in the other capitals.

Thanks to that, it was no longer unusual to run into beastmen on the streets of the elven capital, just as it was no longer unusual to find elves in the beastmen’s capital.

Even so, Mark had a pretty clear suspicion about where the idea had really come from.

Zilu had been the only beastwoman in the entire elven capital for a long time, and though she had never complained, there must have been moments when feeling different from everyone else was unavoidable.

Mark knew his wives well enough to imagine what had happened.

One of them must have noticed, and little by little, what began as a way to make Zilu feel more comfortable had turned into an integration policy for the entire kingdom.

Mark smiled as he thought of them.

Not so long ago, his wives could hardly be called companions. They tolerated each other because they all loved him, argued over anything, and jealousy surfaced far too easily.

Yet during the seven months he had been away, they had learned to hold each other up.

They had governed together, they had looked after Alice when she suffered her mental collapse, and they had noticed Zilu’s loneliness without her having to ask for help, and had done something about it.

Somehow, they had become a family.

Mark’s smile lasted a few seconds longer before beginning to fade, because thinking about family inevitably led him to think about Mary.

She had never had anything like it.

The only person she’d had in her childhood was her mother, and from her she had received more blows, humiliation, and contempt than affection.

Of all the women in Mark’s life, perhaps Mary was the one who most deserved to know what it felt like to have, for once, a place to belong.

But as much as he wanted to give it to her, he also knew he couldn’t force her to be part of this.

Not yet.

If he tried to rush things and threw her into a room with Ely, Aria, or Rose all at once, Mary would get defensive almost immediately.

She’d bristle like a porcupine, throw out one of her provocations, someone would lose their patience, and everything would end up much worse than it began.

So for now, Mark would have to settle for talking to her.

The problem was that Mary seemed determined not to talk to him.

Ever since he had returned, Mark had tried to contact her several times through the little shadow demon she had given him, but he hadn’t managed to get a single response out of her.

And knowing her, it wasn’t too hard to imagine why.

Mary was avoiding him because she thought he was going to scold her.

And, to be fair, she had reason to think so.

She had held him for a week that, outside her world, turned into seven months.

His wives had spent all that time believing he might never come back, and Mary hadn’t even bothered to properly explain how time worked there.

At first, Mark had been quite angry and had indeed thought about giving her a good tongue-lashing.

But now he just wanted to know how she was doing.

Mark sat up in his chair and looked at his own shadow.

"Come out."

A small blot of darkness detached itself from it and climbed up the table until it took the shape of a tiny creature, barely bigger than a fist, made entirely of shadows, with two small glowing dots for eyes.

Mark picked it up in his hands and brought it close to his face.

"Mary, I know you’re there. Answer me."

The little demon’s eyes blinked several times before a completely flat voice came out of its body.

"The user you are trying to reach is not available at this time. Please try again later."

Mark stared at the demon with a frown.

"Oh, so we’re going to play this game?"

He gave it a little shake.

"Miss Mary is not available. You may leave a message, which will probably not be heard."

"I know perfectly well you’re listening to me."

He shook it harder, like someone shaking a controller that had run out of batteries.

"The user you are trying to reach is busy ignoring you. Please try again later."

"Mary, you’re three hundred years old. Act like an adult."

"The user you are trying to reach—"

"Okay. Okay, I get it."

Mark set the demon on the table and slumped back against the chair, letting out a long sigh.

The creature just sat there looking at him with its two points of light, then melted back into his shadow without a sound.

There was nothing to be done. As always, he would have to wait until Mary decided to talk to him whenever she felt like it.

That was how it had worked from the start, and by now he had no reason to expect anything different.

Resigned, Mark rested his cheek on his arm again.

That was when he noticed he was no longer alone.

In the chair beside him, which he would have sworn had been empty just a second ago, Yuki was sitting with her legs crossed on the table and her back reclined against the backrest.

She watched him with her usual calm expression as she nibbled on something that looked like a pink ice bar.

"Are you okay, Master?"