The polished marble floors let out a dull echo as Lucille’s boots walked across them. In the absence of anyone else nearby, her expression was cold and devoid of emotion.
This wasn’t just because she had turned off her expression regulator as she normally did when going there, but because it accurately expressed her emotions about being in that place. Unfortunately, her Transmutational Conduit picked up on the presence of another person’s mana nearby – as she didn’t use her spiritual energy within the Archduke’s presence – and so she had to turn her expression regulator back on and become her normal calm, happy self.
The sound of the footsteps approaching her was recognisable, so she paused for a bit but then continued walking. She peeked around the corner and then blinked when faced with the view of Count Bentsen frowning at the pages in his hands. Other officials of the Ducal Palace were standing nearby, looking nervous.
Count Daymar Bentsen sighed and passed the pages back to the subordinates. “This will do for now. Don’t go to His Grace with them, just pass them to me when they’re finalised.”
The two officials slowly nodded and swiftly walked off. Count Bentsen turned around and stopped when he saw Lucille there.
“Count Goldcroft. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said with a weary smile.
“The same to you. You look…” She tilted her head. “Tired, Count.”
“Ah…” He glanced behind him and then carefully approached. He bent to talk into her ear. “I’ll only warn you because you know… what he’s like, but His Grace hasn’t been in a good mood for a while now. He’s been distracted and gazing off into mid-air whenever I see him.” He stepped back and dipped his head to her. “Use this information as you see fit. I only ask you don’t irritate him… for the good of everyone in the Aethereal Palace.”
He walked off, leaving Lucy to gaze after him in thought.
Mid-air? That sounds like system notifications. And of course, he’s in a bad mood. He’s always in a bad mood.
She shook her head and took the flight of steps to the Archduke’s floor where his study was.
She paused in front of the two blue-painted doors and considered how she was going to go about entering this time. Eventually, Lucille shrugged and pushed them both open with two hands.
“Your Grace!” she began with obnoxious cheerfulness. She walked forward and leaned her hands on the back of the couch facing his desk. “It’s been a while since we last met! I hope you haven’t missed me too much, because I certainly have not missed you!”
He gazed silently at her for a long while, but in a shocking turn of events, he barely showed a reaction besides letting out a slight sigh and returning to his work.
Lucy stared at him.
No killing intent? Is he seriously not mad at me anymore? I thought he’d still be angry, if not even more furious at me for my actions two months ago.
The Archduke suddenly turned his head to glare at something off to his left. His eyes turned a bloody crimson. He didn’t seem to care that she saw his actions in the slightest.
…ah.
The only other explanation she could think of was that…
…he found someone else he was more angry at than her.
For some reason, the Archduke clicked his tongue and scratched his ear as if to rid himself of an irritating noise. His crimson gaze faded as he glanced at her and then indifferently pointed at the couch as he scanned a new page. “Well? Are you going to sit, Goldcroft?”
She watched him for a second longer and suppressed a huff as she walked around to sit down on the couch with her arms crossed.
It doesn’t matter what his reasons are for not being angry at me anymore. It seems this might be the first step towards having a more cooperative relationship, so I’ll take what I can get. Maybe I’ll have the chance to bring up the contract.
“So, Your Excellency, what is on the agenda today?” she asked in an upbeat voice.
He gave her a slightly dubious look. “Excellency?”
“That is the title afforded to an Archduke, isn’t it?” Lucille replied. “Or do you prefer Your Grace? If so, then I can call you by your preferred-”
“I don’t care what you call me. Don’t speak to me at all if you can help it.” The white-haired incognito Demon Emperor tapped a pile on his desk and it teleported in front of her.
Lucy refrained from rolling her eyes and picked up the pile. “Ah, the month after the mid-annual merchant consolidation month. I suppose this is something to do with the ties between the Commission and your Duchy, Your Grace? With the tribute reports having been submitted to the Empire, the merchants will be rushing to arrange deals as early in the new business semester as possible.”
“If you know, then work,” he stated curtly.
Lucy was used to that response by now and set to work reading the proposals. It seemed they were submitted by government officials of the Duchy and they all had to do with the Aurelian Commission, so he just left them for when she could arrive to sort them out herself.
Some of the proposals made her hesitate and she looked up at the Archduke. “Would you permit me to go to Count Bentsen and request information on these reports? I want to know the selection criteria for the proposals that were rejected before these were gathered.”
He tilted his head at her and then blinked. “It’s done. He’s coming here instead.”
…that was not what I asked.
The doors behind her opened to reveal the brown-haired Count with several binders in hand. He glanced between them curiously. “Your Grace, you called for me?”
The Archduke pointed at Lucy, who sighed. “I requested to meet with you to know the selection criteria for these business proposals. Instead, His Grace summoned you.” She smiled brightly before silently mouthing, ‘Sorry’.
Count Bentsen paused and then smirked. He deposited one of the binders in front of her and then turned to the Archduke. “I see. Then I will make good use of this opportunity to pass these highly important, urgent documents to Your Grace as it is a rare occasion that you send for me.”
The Archduke scowled as the work was placed on his desk but the Count let out a chuckle. “Even as your aide, I often wonder what makes you so busy. Why, often I come to your office with urgent work and yet I find the doors locked and not a sound to be heard inside! It’s almost like you become deaf to my words!”
The superior and subordinate had a stare-off as the Count smiled brightly and the Archduke’s expression twitched.
Lucy held her chin as she looked between the two of them and then shrugged. She picked up the binder with the selection criteria. “Thank you for retrieving this for me, Count Bentsen. I know as a member of a different Faction that it’s a great deal of trust that you’re placing in me, letting me read these documents.”
He smiled and showed as he walked towards the exit doors. “Not a problem, my lady. Not a problem at all.” He shut the doors behind him, leaving the Archduke and Lucy alone once more.
It was her expectation that after the hour of nothing occurring between them, she could determine that because the Archduke had finally lost his anger towards her, they could cooperate to achieve her aims, but that expectation was proven a senseless hope when the Archduke stopped working and began to stare at her as she finished up her work. It was getting on her nerves too, as he didn’t show any other reaction when she made eye contact with him.
Stolen story; please report.
It was when she had finished writing the last line that his neon blue eyes narrowed. She stood up, shook the pages so they fell into a neat pile, and then walked forward to place them on the white-haired incognito demon’s desk. “It appears I’ve finished early today,” she began pleasantly. “It may take some time for you to work through the rest of your documents, but I’m sure that as the Archduke you’re familiar with doing this quantity of work each day.”
Archduke Stolas seemed to frown slightly but Lucille stepped back and lightly shrugged. “Of course, I have to return to my work once I leave the Aethereal Palace. I do quite a lot too, Your Grace. I usually wake up at six and return to bed after midnight. Is your schedule similar to mine?”
He glanced at her and then sent her a dismissive wave as he picked up a scarlet pen. “Why should I reveal this to you?”
“No reason. Only minor curiosity on my part.” She tapped on her chin as she looked behind herself to see the exit, then glanced at the Archduke. “Considering that I came across you sleeping during the middle of the day, I have been wondering if Your Grace may… have the trait of wishing to avoid work wherever you can.” She smirked slightly and placed a hand on his desk. “It would explain the long periods of rest you seem to take in between each cycle.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Goldcroft, if you have something to say, then say it. I don’t have the patience to play your games.”
She lost her smile and snapped her fingers. A projection of the terms of their shared System Contract appeared above her gloved palm. “The contract. Please finish it.”
He studied the projection and let out a sigh. “I’m not doing that.”
She placed both her hands on his desk. “Your Grace, I’m not asking for much. I just want the clause about Quests to be added. It would benefit you too if you gave me an incentive that would make me more motivated to achieve the intention of your goals and not just the written word of them.”
The white-haired individual intertwined his fingers and rested them on the desk. “I am not required to give you anything, Goldcroft. May I remind you that our first contract to aid your revenge against the ‘Hero of Light’ is still in effect? But that only applies to my main body.” He tilted his head. “As the ‘Archduke’, I am not required to do anything.”
Lucille narrowed her eyes at him. “Then why do you not inform me of any of your plans for this timeline? There have to have been many changes you’ve made now that you know how it turned out. And I’m sure there is information you need from me about the past timeline.”
“I don’t need you for anything,” he retorted coldly. “And I am not doing anything about the contract.”
“Then will the contract ever change?” she asked quietly.
He frowned but some notification made him click his tongue. “…not now at least,” he said as he dipped the red pen in an inkwell.
Lucy watched him for a moment and then huffed. “Fine. It’s a better answer than I was expecting, anyway. Well then, Your Excellency, as I’ve finished my work I’ll take my leave and-”
“Wait.” Something about his gaze became sharp as he stared at her. He scanned the room and pointed to a high cupboard directly behind her on the other side of the couch. “Go get me a second inkwell from that cupboard.”
She turned around to see where he was pointing and looked back with a marginally raised eyebrow. “…that cupboard, Your Grace?”
“I don’t like repeating myself.” He rested his chin on his hand and gestured to it again. “Fetch it, Goldcroft.”
After a moment of consideration, she walked around the couch and came to a stop in front of the cupboard. It was attached to the ceiling above a packed bookshelf.
Lucille hesitated. She glanced back. “…Your Grace, are you sure it’s this cupboard?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you this already.”
“Well, yes, but…” She looked at the cupboard and then at him again. “I can’t reach it.”
He didn’t say anything besides tilt his head, so she continued to explain, “I barely even reach your shoulders, Your Grace, and this was clearly built for a person of your height. My fingertips won’t clear even the bottommost floor of the cupboard.”
He continued to remain silent so she gestured to it. “And… I’m not sure if you’re aware of this yet, Sir, but I can’t cast spells in your presence. Your affinity means non-elemental mana is the most dominant mana type in your vicinity and you also have high authority over it. I require domination of mana nearby with my skillset so… I can’t use magic to obtain the inkwell. But you can teleport objects.”
She glanced back when she still received no reply. “Your Grace?”
He crossed his arms and leaned back. “I fail to see your point, Goldcroft,” he said with mild disdain.
Lucy stared at him. She stared at the cupboard, then at him again.
This sonuva- he’s doing this on purpose. He’s irritated that I’ve finished my work before him so he’s intentionally giving me this troublesome task as petty payback. ‘Fail to see your point’, yeah right. What he really wants to say is ‘That’s your problem, not mine’.
This time she scowled without care for whether he was watching.
That’s it. It’s settled. This damned demon will never be getting another moment of peace whenever I visit. He can’t kill me and we’re bound by a contract, so I have nothing to fear. I’ll make him rue the day he decided to think of me as an easy target.
Lucille marched off towards the side of the couch and swung her boot against it. It made a dull thump.
“…Goldcroft, what are you doing to my property?” the Archduke asked with suspicion.
She turned to him and beamed, making him frown. “Why, I’m problem-solving!” she replied brightly. “If I can’t reach it and must use magic, then I obviously need something to stand on to reach the cupboard. I’m testing to see if this is fixed to the ground or not.”
“…it’s not, but-” His words were interrupted by a sharp squeak as the couch slid across the ground. Lucy paused and looked at him, while he scowled. “Don’t.”
She picked up one edge of the couch and happily began pushing it as an ear-piercing screeeeech sounded as it slid from its position. Whenever it caught on the edge of a rug or similar, she would put in the effort to stop completely and veeeery slowly push the couch to ‘not damage the precious belongings of His Grace’. That was what she told the Archduke as he glowered at her.
“Goldcroft, put that do-”
Another screech sounded. She blinked innocently as she lowered it slightly and turned to him. “My apologies, did you say something?”
“I said to put that down-”
It screeched again. She covered her mouth with mock shock as he angrily stood up. “Sorry, that was a mistake.”
His expression twitched and he finally snapped his fingers. The couch teleported back to its original position. “Don’t use the couch,” he warned.
“Not the couch? Then…” She pretended to look around for another chair and then her eyes fell on his armchair.
The Archduke scowled and sat back down on the armchair. She clicked her tongue and walked over to the bookshelf. “Fine then. I’ll use this.”
The incognito Demon Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “And just what do you think you’re doing now, Goldcroft?”
“Making a ladder.” She grabbed a stack of books and ‘carefully’ threw them onto the couch. “I won’t have any footing to climb if I don’t remove these. By the way, Your Grace, do you actually read these? I feel like it’s more likely that these are only here to give your study the appearance of an important place. One of these might be empt- oh.”
Their eyes fell on one of the books that landed open, revealing blank white pages. Lucy gained a faint smirk. “I see, Your Grace. You put as much effort into decorating your study as you do your work!”
He glared at her as she hummed contentedly, removing the last books from the shelf. Then she placed a boot firmly on the bottommost shelf and hoisted herself up. “There. Now, what do we have here…” She opened the cupboard and her gaze went flat when she saw that what was inside was not inkwells. She hopped down from the bookshelf and gave the Archduke a tight smile. “Surprisingly, it appears the inkwells aren’t within this cupboard, Your Grace. Do you happen to know where they might be?”
The corner of his lips twitched slightly as if he wanted to smirk and he pulled out a drawer of his desk. One small black glass pot was taken out and placed on his desk. “It appears I must’ve forgotten they were here.”
She watched the inkwell for a moment and then looked up at him with wide eyes. “Your Grace, are you suffering memory loss?”
He frowned. “What?”
Lucy covered her mouth in ‘worry’. “I hope not. Memory loss is a key symptom of dementia, after all.”
The Archduke’s eyes narrowed. “Are you claiming that I have dementia?”
“Well…” She looked to the side. “It’s known to occur in individuals who have progressed considerably in age. Considering your long history, it wouldn’t be unexpected that your memory would finally be failing you after all these year-”
Something shot past her cheek and stuck itself in the wall behind the empty bookshelf.
“Goldcroft. Shut. Up,” he growled.
A wet substance trickled down her cheek and she pulled away her hand to observe the fresh blood dying her gloves. Lucille observed it curiously and then turned around to see a blue ballpoint pen sticking out of the wall. It was one of the pens he had in a stationary box on his table.
Lucy took the pen out of the wall with a bit of effort and noticed it was perfectly unharmed. She whirled around and waved the pen cheerfully. “Thank you for the free pen, Your Grace! I can’t believe you gave me such an honour as your own pen for a gift!”
“What? No.” He scowled and gestured to her. “Give it here.”
She held it against her. “Don’t worry, Your Grace. I’ll make sure it will remain unharmed. I’ll use your gift every day and ensure it’s in perfect condition every hour.”
“I- When did I ever say I was giving you that pen as a gift?” he said with mild incredulity. “Goldcroft, I said to give it back.”
She clicked her tongue and walked to his desk. Before she placed it in his outstretched hand, she raised a finger. “Your Grace, if you feel like I may be burdened by receiving a gift so freely from you, then I can buy it from you.”
“Goldcroft.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “The pen.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and slowly passed her hand over the table where the red pen he had been using lay next to his documents. She placed the blue pen in his hand and retracted her hand. “Happy, your grace?” she replied pleasantly.
He shot her a flat look and then pointed at the exit. “Take your leave now, Goldcroft.”
Her smile grew wider and she gave him a low bow that made him frown because she never acted so respectfully. “As you wish, Your Excellency. I dearly look forward to our next meeting.” She straightened up and saluted him. “May the Eternal Emperor’s favour be with you.”
A look of incredulity passed over his face again as she left with a slight bounce in her step, inwardly smirking. The Demon Emperor himself didn’t need any favour from the Emperor of the Eternal Empire. She met with Count Bentsen in passing and made polite talk with him, before finally departing.
It was only when she was safely in her carriage at the bottom of the Aethereal Palace’s hill that she grinned and took the ruby red ballpoint pen out of her dimensional bag to admire it.
It’s fine. I like this colour better anyway.
----------------------------------------
[There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Not everything that annoys you needs to die]
The Archduke shot the message an annoyed look but returned from his position by the window and sat down in his armchair. He reached forward for the pen he had been using and…
…paused when he realised it was no longer on his desk. His perception, which he normally kept closed off, expanded and he discovered it was no longer in the Aethereal Palace at all. He turned to stare at the door of his room and slowly narrowed his eyes.
[Ha! That will teach you not to keep your perception active just because it irritates you!]
The Archduke scowled as the culprit immediately became obvious and he sprung up to march over to the window and slam his hands on the windowsill. In the distance, a small blue carriage engraved with the white crest of the Aethereal Duchy was close to leaving the Palace gates. His fingers twitched slightly as he raised them but…
[Are you going to use your almighty powers of teleportation to teleport that girl back here with your pen? That would be petty, Alectis. Really petty.]
He glared at the notification, but it bobbed as if enjoying his anger.
[And how are you going to prove that she took the pen in the first place?]
“I don’t need to prove anything,” he hissed.
[Really? Are you going to threaten her? But she already knows you can’t kill her. And she’s smart. She’s aware of me. So what are you going to do?]
“I…” He hesitated and then realised that he didn’t know how he was going to resolve it.
[And why are you so upset about a pen anyway? I thought you didn’t care about material objects. You have another pen exactly the same colour.]
“…it’s my pen.”
[Wow, isn’t this a sight? The scary Demon Emperor getting annoyed because a girl took off with one of his pens. What are you, six?]
He scowled at the notification and then sat back down. “I’m not going to threaten her to get the pen back.”
[Yeah, well, you don’t want to kill her anymore anyway. Now you’re going to have to find some other way to resolve the contract conflict. You might have to… shock! Horror! Astonishment! Get along with her!]
“Over my dead body.” The incognito Demon Emperor got back to work, but a sense of annoyance couldn’t help but surge whenever his gaze fell on the blue pen in his hand.
----------------------------------------
“Lucille, here are the- oh?” Vincent blinked when he noticed the way she was smirking at the object in her hands. He came closer and pushed up his glasses to peer at the red pen. “That’s an expensive-looking pen, Lucy. Where did you get it?” He frowned as he observed it for longer. “I don’t think we have any pens of that style within the Commission. Knowing you and myself, we’d both think of it as a waste.”
“This is a trophy,” she announced proudly.
“A trophy?” Vincent asked with mild confusion.
“Yes. A trophy obtained from the treacherous dragon’s den itself.” Her smirk grew wider as she dipped the pen in an inkwell to refill it and then began to use it to complete the paperwork Vincent brought it. “I risked my life for this, you should know.”
“I… see?” Vincent still looked bemused but walked around the desk to begin explaining the new records she was reading. “This is some things to keep in mind when visiting the Counties. Noticeably, Clanlord Krovehearth has requested to be your personal guide for three days during your stay in the Alichanteu’s domain. This can only be because he intends to invite you to the plane that the airships are being constructed on…”