Chapter 22: A Tale of Two Letters

The Research City of Doam.

The third largest city in the Duchy of Soron.

It’s also the capital city.

In one of its top research facilities...

Mariella had two researchers beside her: a bald old dwarf with a large, bushy white beard and even bushier eyebrows and an elven woman in her late twenties with red eyes, long messy blonde hair and big round glasses.

Their names were Garm and Geles.

"Align the third axis! Keep the mana channels steady!"

Geles fired orders like a general.

Positioned in a wide circle around a test dummy were four war banners called [Magic Barrier Flags].

"Mages, commence target practice! Full output!"

Geles yelled, pushing her glasses up her pointy nose.

A trio of Soron battle-mages held their staffs high and blasted the test dummy with powerful fire magic. But the moment the flames the perimeter, they crashed into a shimmering, bubble-like iridescent barrier.

BOOM!

The dummy didn’t have a single scratch.

"Target untouched!" a technician called out.

Standing nearby, Geles stroked his chin.

"Well, well, the localized field held up nicely. Array stability stayed under four percent variance."

"Mhm."

Mariella agreed with a nod.

"It’s a solid start, but a tactical barrier meant for a small squad isn’t our objective. We need this field expanded to cover entire city walls against high-tier artillery."

Geles’s eyes sparked with excitement.

"Expanding the radius now! With 300% output!"

"No need, it’ll just fail again. The mana conduit can’t handle the wide-area distribution without burning the flag cores."

Lady Mariella sighed frustratedly.

Geles pumped a fist with determination.

"Don’t give up yet, Lady Mariella! We’ll get this to work! Even if I have to quit eating! Even if I have to quit drinking sweet, sweet ale for a whole month!"

Garm scoffed loudly as he crossed his thick arms over his massive chest.

"Bah! Since when are you so eager to quit drinking, elf?"

Geles adjusted her glasses with a killer glare.

"Shut your mouth, you stubby short shit!"

"Who are you calling short, you drunk blonde whore?!"

Mariella could tell the two were about to fight like usual so she silently backed out.

Waiting out in the quiet corridor was Geena, her personal attendant and close friend.

"Lady Mariella, do you need anything?"

Mariella hesitated for a a second as her fingers twitched slightly against her dress.

"...Geena. Has Adonis sent any letters?"

A subtle, exhausted sigh slipped past Geena’s lips.

"Milady... do you mean Prince Leander? He’s sent three separate missives this morning alone detailing his—"

"No, silly. Not Leander. Adonis."

Geena shook her head sadly.

"No, milady. No letters from Prince Adonis today either."

Everyday Lady Mariella asks if Adonis has written to her and everyday Geena tells her no.

She didn’t even know this Fifth Prince, but she was already certain she hated his guts. To make a highborn lady like Mariella wait endlessly like this... it was disgraceful.

"I see..." Mariella murmured.

Geena watched her mistress walk away/

’Sigh~ to be ignored so completely by a man... milady must be sooo heartbroken.’

Meanwhile, ten paces down the hallway, Mariella pressed herself against the stone wall.

Her face was bright red. Hot, trembling steam puffed from her luscious strawberry lips. Her breathing turned shallow and ragged as her hand reached down, gripping her burning crotch tightly through her dress.

"Mmmf...~"

Mariella whimpered softly and rubbed her thighs together.

Blissful. Satisfying. That’s how she felt between her legs.

"Adonis... you cruel, heartless bastard..."

He had ZERO reasons to write to her.

They weren’t engaged anymore.

But the humiliation from the delicious torture of longing for a letter from him that she KNEW was never coming made her rub her thighs together even harder.

...

Back in the royal gardens of the Emerald Palace.

Many women were laughing.

More noblewomen eagerly came to hear Queen Lucelia brag about her son over tea time.

It’s Lucelia’s ideal sweet dream.

Right now, however, she was living a nightmare.

Seated right in the middle of the gazebo was her stepson, Adonis. He was casually sipping tea, surrounded by eight of Lucelia’s wealthy noble friends... women in their early forties who were currently giggling like giddy schoolgirls every time he so much as blinked.

"Oh my, Prince Adonis you’re a treat!"

"Aha, you’re the sweeter treat, Lady Beatrice."

"Oh, you—!"

Beatrice giggled softly, dabbing tears of delight from her eyes with a kerchief.

Queen Lucelia’s forehead throbbed.

She slammed her teacup down onto its saucer.

"Adonis! Aren’t you tired of sitting here interrupting us?! Go back to your quarters!"

Adonis placed a hand over his chest, looking up at her with hurt, puppy-dog eyes.

"Third Mother... why so cold to me?"

One of the older noblewomen leaned in close to Adonis as she fanned herself lightly while whispering:

"Don’t mind her, dear. A few years back, Lucelia was hell-bent on sleeping with you! You were barely a young man then, but she kept calling you one anyway, bragging about how she wanted to strap you to her bed and—"

"ENOUGH OF THIS!"

Lucelia slammed both hands on the the table.

"..."

Expectedly, the gazebo was silent.

Adonis used that opportunity to speak.

"To be honest, Third Mother... I’m flattered you thought about me that way. Looking back, I really don’t know why I rejected your advances. I should have just accepted. I’m sure a woman like you has a lot to teach me, hm?"

Lucelia’s face went from pale white to a red as a tomato.

She’s overwhelmed with shame.

"SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR MOUTH RIGHT NOW!"

"Alright, if you say so."

Adonis replied casually then sipped his tea.

Like the damage wasn’t already done.

Lucelia’s friends gasped at the mother and son.

"Did she really make a move on you?!"

"How scandalous! Third Queen, you dark horse!"

"Did she... did she touch you down there?!"

"Oh my goodness, imagine if she actually managed to cheat on the King with his most cherished son at the time!"

They covered him from every angle and bombard him with unbelievable amounts of questions. But these friendly ladies were the least of his problems.

’Where is that old man? He’s usually picking his flowers right about now...’

Sure enough, walking along the rose bushes was Grand Chamberlain Hershant, holding a small wicker basket.

Adonis immediately stood up and waved brightly.

"Ah! Grand Chamberlain!"

Without giving the women a chance to stop him, he ducked out of the gazebo and trotted over to the old man, leaving behind a crowd of groaning, disappointed noblewomen.

"Nooo! Come back, Prince Adonis! Tell us more!"

A quiet Queen Lucelia sat with shame while her friends shot her scandalous looks.

Over by the rose bushes, Hershant turned around, holding a bundle of freshly picked lavender. He had just finished gathering ingredients for his signature custom perfume.

"Ah, Prince Adonis, you look quite chipper today. Even with the Third Queen glaring at your back."

Adonis chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Err, well... she’s always like that. Actually, I came over because I wanted to ask a favor, if that’s alright?"

"Anything for you, my Prince."

"I need help getting some books on the runic language from the restricted section."

"Ah! You’re taking your studies as an enchanter seriously! That is wonderful news, Prince Adonis. Keep working hard. A day may come when your talents will be acknowledged, no matter what the court whispers say."

"You flatter me, sir." Adonis smiled.

Hershant checked his pocket watch and sighed.

"Well, I have official duties shortly, so we’ll have to make this very quick. Follow me."

A few minutes later, the Royal Library.

Old Hershant was frantically tearing through shelves, tossing manuscripts aside and grumbling under his breath.

"Where are they...? They should be right in this section! What mindless rascal dares disarrange the royal archives?!"

Meanwhile, Adonis was sitting nearby, lazily rocking back and forth on his chair with his legs crossed on top of a study table.

"You really don’t need to stress yourself out, Hersh. If you can’t find them, it’s totally fine—"

"NO!"

Hershant shouted with burning passion.

"My prince gave me a task! I must fulfill my duty no matter what it takes!"

Adonis smiled innocently.

"Wow, seeing you this fired up reminds me of Mariella."

Hershant paused mid-reach for a book.

"...Lady Mariella of Soron? Why do you mention her?"

"Oh, well, I needed help with runic language. So I sent a letter to Mariella asking for assistance, since she took advanced ancient runic classes when she studied in Naxos. Soooo..."

Hershant’s face went pale. He shook his head rapidly.

"No, no, no. Prince Adonis, you must be mistaken! Lady Mariella isn’t coming to Falsbane! If a high-ranking noble from Soron were visiting, I would have received official notice! It is my sole duty to organize the welcome gala!"

Adonis shrugged casually. "Eh. If you say so." (ᗜ _ ᗜ)

Hershant started to sweat like a wet whale.

"Prince Adonis... I assure you, she is not coming. You should not hold your breath..."

Adonis let out a long yawn.

"Well, that’s actually what Third Mother and I were talking about over tea just now. She was super mad that you didn’t tell her about Mariella’s arrival. She was complaining that no gala was announced... imagine how embarrassing it’s going to be when Mariella arrives at the palace gates and sees an empty ballroom. Tsk, tsk. I can already picture the look on Father’s face when he finds out..."

Hershant’s eyes dilated in headache-inducing panic.

"BALLROOM! DECORATIONS! CATERING!"

Hershant tossed his basket of flowers aside.

"I MUST GO PREPARE IMMEDIATELY!"

The old Chamberlain sprinted out of the library at full speed as his robes flapped wildly behind him.

Gone, Adonis smiled and pulled three thick, dusty volumes on Runic Language from where he hid them.

"Next, the letter."

He slipped the books under his arm and strolled out.

...

It was evening by the time Adonis returned to his quarters.

He yawned, stretching his arms as he pushed the wooden door open, only to instantly freeze.

Prussia was standing right at the door, perfect posture, arms tightly crossed, waiting for him with a stern look on her face that reminded him of Minerva.

"What’s the matter?" Adonis asked cautiously.

Without a word, Prussia raised her hand, holding up a thick stack of papers.

They were all the charcoal sketches he’d drawn days ago.

The highly detailed blueprints of her new armor, with exact measurements of her waist, hips, and bust.

"You ordered me to clean your room, then you disappeared for hours. You wanted me to find these, didn’t you? You wanted me to see how much thought and effort you put into designing my clothes so I’d warm up to you."

She narrowed her sharp eyes.

"I’ve learned not to trust you in the slightest."

Adonis raised a brow, holding his hands up defensively.

"Uh... you’re giving me too much credit now."

"It doesn’t matter. No matter what mind games you play, I’m not going to warm up to you, nor will I fall for a man who doesn’t possess the slightest shred of true masculinity. You’re a coward and a cockroach."

Then, her harsh, angry expression softened slightly.

She always looks adorable and intensely attractive all at once when her face is expressionless.

She pulled the stack of sketches close to her chest and looked off to the side.

"Still..."

She murmured shyly.

"I... appreciate the sentiment. No one has ever given me a gift that made me feel... like a woman before. I like the way you drew my body. And how you envision me... it’s... satisfying."

She abruptly tossed the papers onto his desk and left.

[Notice! Prussia has gained +30 affection for Host. Reason: You provided a gift that embraced her hidden feminine side. Target secretly enjoys being sexualized by you.]

[Affection Level: -55 / 100]

"Still in the negative, but making progress."

He collapsed on his rickety bed.