Chapter 383: Forced Cohabitation

Mark’s plan had been to leave for Eldia the day after the birth, but that date stopped being realistic almost immediately, and he ended up delaying the trip by about a week.

Joseph accepted the decision without resistance. In fact, he did so so easily that Mark began to suspect the news had pleased him more than he cared to admit.

Mark, for his part, had more than enough reasons to stay.

He wanted to spend time with his children, get used to having them close, and help out during the first days while his wives recovered.

But none of that was what truly held him back.

Before leaving the palace, he needed to solve the problem of Mary.

He couldn’t leave for Eldia with a bomb that size left behind, unexplained.

His wives had to know that Mary was pregnant, that she had been secretly lodged in his room for several days, and that, given her condition, she would be living with them for a while.

Mark had decided to settle her temporarily in one of the palace’s most remote wings, far enough from the daily bustle and with restricted access to keep curious eyes away.

Not to mention that some of her subordinates would stay with her to attend to her while she regained her strength.

The official version for the servants was simple: an important guest who needed privacy.

Once he had settled what the servants needed to know, Mark had to face the real problem.

His wives.

He waited two days, until the midwives allowed the four of them to receive longer visits, and then gathered them in the room where they were still recovering. Explaining it in words didn’t seem like a good idea, so he repeated what he had done with Ely and Alice and showed them the memories of the other world directly.

That avoided some questions.

It created many others.

The discussion dragged on for hours and passed through practically every possible stage: disbelief, anger, reproaches, tense silences, and finally, a very grudging acceptance.

None of them was happy.

None of them trusted Mary.

But all of them understood that Mark wasn’t going to throw her out while she was in that state.

The problem came afterward.

Because accepting that Mary would stay in the palace was one thing.

Living alongside her was something else entirely.

Within days, her wing became nearly enemy territory.

Mark’s wives avoided passing through there, Mary’s subordinates seemed to enjoy others’ discomfort far too much, and every encounter in the hallways came with hostile looks, murmurs, or small provocations.

Luckily for Mark, toward the end of the week the cohabitation seemed to have become a little more bearable, or at least that was what he wanted to believe...

"A chandelier! Seriously?!"

Aria stormed into Mary’s sitting room absolutely furious, a folder clutched against her chest and her face red with indignation.

"An elven crystal chandelier more than three hundred years old!" she repeated, planting herself in the middle of the room. "Handmade! By craftsmen who have been dead for centuries! Smashed to pieces on the floor of the north hallway!"

Angelica lay beside the huge window, half reclined in the sun with her wings spread to both sides.

"Uh-huh. And?"

"Seriously... Is that all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Angelica replied through a yawn. "I was coming back to the room and that thing was in the way."

"It was hanging from the ceiling!"

"Well, they hung it too low."

Aria stared at her, mouth slightly open and a vein throbbing in her temple, unable to decide whether it was a joke or whether Angelica was completely serious.

Mary, sitting across the room with her feet on the sofa and a hand resting on her belly, seemed to be enjoying the conversation far more than she should.

Yuki, meanwhile, stood by the door with her arms crossed and a frown.

"I’ve told you three times this week," Aria said, trying to stay calm. "Flying in the palace hallways is forbidden."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then why do you do it?"

"Because I have wings," Angelica answered with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Walking is for people who don’t have a choice."

"It’s for people who don’t want to wreck the palace!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

Aria squeezed the folder so hard the pages began to crumple between her fingers.

"I’m going to have to add it to the damage log," she muttered through her teeth. "Along with the banquet hall rug, the east garden statue, and the library door."

Angelica opened one eye with visible annoyance.

"I already told you I didn’t destroy that door. It was Rudolf, who ripped it off because he said it creaked."

"And that made it necessary to destroy it?!"

"How the hell should I know, go ask him."

"..."

Aria breathed in deeply through her nose, clearly trying not to lose her patience.

"You know what? You’re probably the rudest, most inconsiderate, most arrogant guest who has ever set foot in this palace."

"Thanks."

"That wasn’t a compliment!"

"Coming from you, it almost counts as one."

Angelica closed her eye again and settled more comfortably beside the window.

"Besides, you should be grateful. That chandelier was hideous. If you think about it, I did you a favor."

Aria finally lost her patience.

She let out a growl, dropped the folder on the floor, and advanced on Angelica with a clenched fist, though Yuki needed barely an instant to intervene. She slid from the door without a sound, grabbed her from behind, and lifted her off the ground before she could even make it halfway.

"Let go of me, Yuki! I’m going to kill her! I’m going to pluck every feather from those wings!"

"No. Master said no fighting," Yuki said, completely impassive.

For the first time since the argument began, Angelica seemed genuinely entertained.

She opened both eyes and watched Aria struggle to break free of Yuki’s arms before giving her a slow, provocative smile.

"Let her go. I want to see what she does."

"You see?!" Aria shouted in annoyance. "That! That is exactly what I’m talking about!"

Yuki simply let out a long sigh.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Mary covered her mouth with one hand as she tried to hold back her laughter, though her shoulders shook too much to fool anyone.

The argument would probably have gone on much longer if the door hadn’t opened at that moment.

Rudolf walked in in his dark elf form with a silver tray in his hands. On it were a steaming plate of stew, freshly baked bread, a pitcher of juice, and a small bowl of strawberries.

He crossed the room at a calm pace, went around Yuki and Aria, who was still kicking, without sparing them a glance, and stopped beside the sofa.

"Your lunch, my lady."

"Thank you, Rudolf." Mary sat up a little and let him set the tray on her lap. "It smells wonderful."

Mary bit into a strawberry and then looked toward the door.

"Rudolf, where’s Mark? He promised me he’d have lunch with me today."

"He asked me to tell you he’d be a little late, my lady."

Mary arched an eyebrow.

"Late? Why?"

"Apparently, a small problem came up in the children’s wing."

"What kind of problem?" she asked, somewhat curious.

"Well..."