"Watch your tone, madam," some jackass with gold rings and pendants yaps, "hero or not, you speak to the King –"

"Was I fucking talking to you, Lancelot, or is there too much shit in your ears from brown-nosing?"

"Milady!" Ronister hisses, but Courtney isn't paying attention to him.

The court erupts into a series of murmurs and excited whispers that she is too tired and too hungry to give two shits about. The princess in particular seems suddenly intrigued by all this – as though Courtney was the spice she needed in her life. Not sure if Court's ready to commit to a rich girl, but hey, maybe she can set Ronnie up.

No response from the gold jackass himself though. Good, she can double down.

"Oh, so now you can hear me. Keep it up, I'm sure you'll get promoted to royal asswipe soon. Anyways. We're here for room and board and a bath and hopefully whatever a Soul Weapon is. Sooner would be better."

"I see..." Charlon leans forward, looking interested in getting on her nerves. "And why do you believe you deserve these things?"

"Why do I –" Blood pressure rising. "Everyone told me to, so I hiked and busted my ass to get here on foot. Are you serious?"

"Who is this everyone?"

"Y-Your Majesty –" Ronister flubs out.

"Don't play the bullshit card on me, Your Majesty." Courtney snaps, and something in the old bastard's eyes sharpens, but she's too agitated to care. "I'm here to get conscripted and get the magic weapon and beat the demon lord. Simple concept, can we please hurry this shit up?"

"You still haven't answered my first question."

"Yes I did!"

"Not quite. You said it was an expectation."

Courtney scoffs. "You want a resume?"

"Milady, we –" Ronister starts.

"It would be appreciated." Smug bastard finishes.

She's tempted to throw up double birds in response. So tempted.

"I can hike for a long time, I can cave goblin face in, and I used to do track."

"Is that so?"

"And I worked part-time at a fast food joint, so I've got great customer service."

"Hmph!" The king chortles, and she grinds her teeth. "Doubtful, if I was the customer in this case… any other skills?"

"Want me to do a backflip? Maybe perform some goddamn cheer choreo?"

"If you don't mind."

"Yeah, okay, well how about you –"

"Courtney, would you please shut up." Ronster barks under his breath with a tremble, and Courtney's head snaps to the tin can standing next to her. He's standing stiffly, the watery whites of his eyes glinting under the shadow of his helm, but his hands are clenched tight. "Please."

Her jaw clamps shut. She's never… he's never…

Apparently, the silence is enough for the gold-hatted shithead to keep talking, and Courtney flexes her jaw before returning her attention to His Glorious, Perfect, Platinum-assed Majesty.

"Courtney Cross. During my reign as king, I have only had the opportunity to welcome five heroes – yourself included. And, most certainly, you have established yourself as quite the outlier." His voice booms, and by the way he's expositing, Charlon is clearly sending some sort of message or code to the rest of the court. Courtney has no clue what it might be. "And who do you have with you?"

Silence. Courtney's eyes flicker to Ronister, who picks now, of all times, to clam up instead of gushing about who he is, and why he's here, and how he looooves heroes oh so much.

"Ronnie," she whispers, before lightly kicking the tin can in the shin.

"Ronister! Of… Of Smallwood, Your Majesty." The steel-covered eighth grader manages to compose himself, and bows as a gentleman would. Ah, shit, she should have curtsied. Maybe. Hard to do with a skirt and chainmail.

"Smallwood. Well, I thank both of you for making the trek here, and for presenting yourself as swiftly as you could muster. The carriages don't travel out there often, so the journey must have been tiring… and dangerous, considering your level." There's that word again. Shelf it for later. "A weapon and a shower… simple demands, and yet… well. You'll have them, most definitely."

All eyes on Courtney. She cringes and tries to hide her embarrassment. Why does it feel weird now, even though she was making a whole-ass scene earlier? Actually, why is he now agreeing to her terms? Goddamn court politics... she'll have to try to figure out why he went through a round of 20 Questions later.

"...Thanks." She musters, her voice reduced to a wary prowl rather than the verbal tiger mauling she was handing out. "I guess."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"And young Ronister – you have the crown's gratitude for escorting our latest hero here. We shall return you to your home by tomorrow, with an endowment to your family as reward."

Courtney's bones freeze in place. She stares at Ronister. She's never scrutinized him to the degree she's doing at this very moment, but right here, right now, her heart tightens and her lungs coil into themselves, and she very much hates this sensation.

For a moment, Courtney considers opening her mouth – casually and quickly informing everyone that no, Ronister's staying with her – but she doesn't. Why doesn't she? Why aren't there words coming out of her throat? Her lips have parted, her vocal cords are making the movements, but nothing's coming out except a brainless "uh". The moment stretches into infinity. Just… say no. Say he's staying. Just…

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Ronister speaks in his best public speaking voice, dormouse that he is, and Courtney's heart plummets for an eternal second, "but my place is beside milady, aiding her in her quest."

Relief, from out of nowhere and for no reason at all jumps into Courtney's rib cage. The court nobles murmur once more, this time sounding more excited and even a little enamored. She's kind of… proud? Again, she'll have to shelf these feelings for later.

"Grandstart is forever proud for sons and soldiers like you." King Charlon says with a genuine smile. It's enough to make Courtney almost roll her eyes. Almost. She doesn't want to ruin the moment. "Both of you shall be offered room and board, as everyone has informed you."

Again: smug bastard. Courtney shoots him a dirty look, but as befitting of a lifelong monarch and politician, Charlon doesn't budge. She'll just have to play along, for now. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"In two days' time, we shall host the Soul's Claim – the ceremony for the bestowment of a Soul Weapon and the public introduction of our newest heroine. In the interim, I beseech both of you to enjoy Castle Diviner's amenities and to freshen up for the big day."

King Charlon stands from his throne. Apparently, this means that everyone else in court bows or curtsies – except the princess, naturally. Courtney's eyes flicker to Ronister, because he'd know what to do, but he's not doing anything except getting excited and standing in place. So, she just shoves her hands in her pockets and tries not to fidget too much.

"Again, thank you for your presence and… rather colorful debut. And thank you, all else, for your service to our great nation. Good day."

"The royal court is adjourned!" A guard bellows.

Charlon walks away from the court as all the nobility start to clump together in their cliques and alliances. His daughter follows behind him, but stops to spare one last look over her shoulder at Courtney.

Courtney raises an eyebrow at her.

The princess's face grows red and she rushes out of the room all the quicker. Ah.

"Milady, sir, the maids will escort you to your rooms." The bellowing guard says to the dirt-covered, sweaty-looking duo, before Courtney realizes two maids teleported from out of nowhere and to their sides. Given the whole magic schtick, they might have actually teleported.

"I – shit, where'd you come from?" Courtney says to the concerningly young, concerningly beautiful uniformed woman next to her. If that wasn't a recipe for a royal scandal, she didn't know what was. "Well, okay, sure. At least I'll get half of my demands met."

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The instant that Courtney Cross and Ronister of Smallwood leave the court, the audience bursts into sound and gossip.

"Ohmygosh, did you see how scary she looked, yelling at His Majesty like that?"

"No wayyyy, I thought it was sooooo hot!"

"Do you really think she's an actual hero?"

"Well, if the King thinks so…"

"I bet ten gold that her soul weapon weapon will be a mace."

"Hah! I take your bet. It will be a hammer, surely."

"Or perhaps her cutting words, more like."

"By the gods! Are we meant to entrust our lives to such rabble? Why, she wasn't even of proper descent…"

"Lord Fujiwara, I do implore you to have some respect for those serving, heroes or not."

"Mmm. It's true she's not Japanese."

Anyone within earshot of that last comment falls silent, looking at the elderly statesman in the corner of the room.

"At least, not from what it sounds like." As he speaks, he takes his square glasses off and wipes them with a handkerchief, slightly rumpling his well-worn suit and tie."We didn't wear uniforms like that: I've only ever seen them in movies."

"A foreign hero, then?"

"What could this mean…?"

Murmurs and whispers, whispers and murmurs. The statesman just grins cheekily – the same grin that his wife fell in love with, that she's still in love with, even as they grow old and gray and wrinkled together. Seeing the teenager… wow, he never thought he'd see one in real life, but…

"That's an honest-to-goodness American," he chuckles, vividly remembering all the action movies and dramas and chick flicks that he'd been dragged to, all those years ago, "which means things are about to get very interesting."

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Holy shit, Castle Diviner has functional plumbing.

Granted, Courtney should have expected it from the fact that they had elevators (and she's pretty sure she saw a fax machine on that paperwork floor), but still. Hot water! And water pressure! And free shampoo! And the toilet flushes too, which is a huge upgrade from the latrines (or, worse, the outhouse) they had in Smallwood.

Felt nice to no longer have dried blood caking her forehead and sweat in her eyes and chainmail chafing in places she didn't know it could get into. And wow, the clothes – they gave Courtney some nightgowns and even casualwear so that she wasn't lumbering around in her full combat gear all the time.

…Well, casual for the setting, Courtney guesses. The however-many decades of heroes coming from her world had clearly affected the local fashion industry, such that it sorta mixed together. In the closet, there's even what could be called a medieval seamstress's attempt at a white t-shirt with jeans. Sounds easy, but it looks like a V-necked medieval tunic with billowing pirate breeches… made of denim.

Yeah, Courtney's gonna need her skirt back from the laundry maid sometime soon. And skirts in general, with some tights. She hates pants.

Massaging her eyes and letting her back plunge into the soft bed behind her, Courtney's brain finally leaves survival mode… after three days. Three days of trekking through the woods, and limping out of a fight, and god dammit, that sucked. They need a horse! And more spells to make shit easier, and maybe a third party member.

New party member would be good. Need a wizard. It'd be so useful to have someone like those movies – where you can put a million things into a bag, or light a fire with a flick of your wrist, or make food and water by saying the magic words. Hell, Courtney wants a genie, if she can manage to find one. But still, even just a basic wizard…

In the middle of the afternoon, Courtney sleeps a dreamless sleep, the tiredness in her body finally catching up to her.

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When she wakes up, it's the middle of the night. The otherworldly moon hangs above the Qliphoth Bastion of Sanguillon in the distance, the silhouette of bat-winged creatures flocking through the misty darkness visible from the window of Castle Diviner. Her bed is warm, comfortable, warm, and a little too warm.

Sitting up and cracking her back, Courtney figures she has two options: go back to sleep, or wander around the castle looking for something to do.

Courtney yawns and wipes the tiredness from her eyes.

"...Might as well see if Ronister's awake," she grumbles to herself, before standing up to go get her shoes. Should probably talk to him about that outburst during their meeting with Charlon… egh, if she feels like it.

Probably not, she's hungry and she wants a turkey leg, for some reason. Probably because Castle Diviner reminds her of Disney Castle.

Wonder if the princess can talk to birds and mice…?