“Hahahah!”

The Queen’s laughter snapped me out of the memory lane I was walking.

“I wish I could have taken a picture of his face in that moment and hung it in my room!”

I sank deeper into the couch as I gazed upon her laughing face. It was a nice view.

“He really didn’t think you could snap the weapon he brought into two!”

After her calm and collected state, seeing her laugh this freely brought pleasant feelings to my chest. Even though the memory that flashed in my mind wasn’t a good one, her laughter made me feel better. Plus, it was kind of my fault for thinking of William when I was drinking wine together with a bunch of beautiful women.

Honestly, I wanted to rest after that stupid ball, especially after dancing together with 20 noble ladies but the Queen pulled me to her side for a “celebrity drink”. I know I wanted some stunning babes but all the perfumes and make-up they wore really made me sneeze my brains out.

“Well,” I said, settling deeper into the couch, “I’m glad my misadventures can provide you with such amusement.”

The Queen’s laughter finally subsided into a soft chuckle. She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, you were magnificent. The look on Agamemnon’s face when you broke that bow—it was priceless. And the way he tried to recover from it? Hilarious.”

I tilted my glass slightly and watched the blood-red liquid move before taking a sip.

“You should thank Aurora. She was the one who informed me mentally about their traditions.”

Ranged combat is seen as cowardly, huh? I understood wanting to get close and personal but they just sounded like losers who couldn’t get into the striking range due to concentrated fire and complained about it. Agamemnon probably would have gotten an aneurysm if he had seen the guns back on Earth.

The Queen smirked, her green eyes gleaming as she turned to archmage. “Aurora’s always been sharp, hasn’t she? Knows how to play the game. Still, your reaction was perfect. You didn’t even flinch.”

Aurora, who was sitting nearby with a glass of wine of her own, gave a small, knowing smile. I straightened my body.

“I noticed that you two had a history. He seemed almost… jealous of me.”

The Queen's eyes flickered with annoyance as she gave a knowing nod.

“He tried to court me before I became the queen. After I became queen, his advances only became worse. Even if he was a better man, I wouldn’t marry my own cousin.”

“Cough, cough!? He is your cousin?”

The wine nearly went down the wrong pipe as I coughed, my eyes widening. I mean, I guess it wasn’t so unusual for royals to marry your own cousin. Yet, what really surprised me was him actually being related to her. They didn’t look or behave similarly at all.

“Yes. He is the half-brother of Artemeni. Her mother was my aunt and his father was one of her consorts.”

I looked at Artemeni but her eyes were closed. She hiccuped several times in her sleep. It looked like alcohol hit her really hard. Wait. That made Artemeni her cousin as well though I could see the similarity. They both had green eyes and red hair. Honestly, I didn’t know how I hadn’t thought of it.

I leaned back and took another sip of my wine, trying to digest the whole "cousin" revelation. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for royal families, but Agamemnon’s overzealous attempts to woo the Queen definitely added an extra layer of awkwardness.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of him,” I said, glancing at the Queen, who now seemed to have a more somber expression as the laughter slowly drained from her face.

“I’m not,” she said plainly.

"Males and females can't live entirely separate lives. That's a fact. So, even though Quipax was originally founded as a safe haven for women, it wasn’t long before men became part of it too. And when enough of them gathered, it was only natural that some would want to join the ruling body. That led to a civil war."

I inspected her face. She was clearly disturbed by the unnecessary blood spill. Good.

“In the end, a part of them founded their own city. They called themselves Gargareans. Unfortunately, my aunt couldn’t help to sleep with them and gave birth to Agamemnon.“

The room quieted as the Queen spoke of the history between the two factions. Her tone had shifted, and I could tell this was more than just a personal grudge — it was a wound that had scarred Quipax deeply.

"Agamemnon always had ambition in his blood," the Queen continued, her voice laced with distaste. "Raised among the Gargareans, he always believed that men should hold power in Quipax. When he returned here after my coronation, he thought he could use his blood ties to gain influence. And when that didn’t work... well, you saw how he acts."

“Thud.”

Our heads turned as Thalia knocked down a battle, her face as red as a tomato.

“Those infidels! Turned their back to the light of our Goddess!”

The Queen sighed as she watched Thalia fumble with the bottle, her passionate outburst breaking the somber mood. Despite her sigh, she seemed almost relieved with Thalia’s drunkness as a smile crept on her face. Thalia's eyes, half-glazed with wine and zeal, looked like she was ready to launch into another tirade. Instead, she hiccuped and sank back into her seat, grumbling something about the "righteous light" and "betrayal."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

I glanced at Aurora, who was observing the scene with a bemused smile of her own. Considering her relationship with Thalia, I am pretty sure she wished she could film it somehow so she could embarrass her at a later date.

I chuckled to myself, watching Thalia try to right the bottle, her fervor dampened by alcohol. It was hard not to appreciate the absurdity of it all. One moment, we were discussing serious politics and the next, Thalia was declaring holy war on a bottle of wine. It reminded me of Earth when I still had my squad.

I drained the rest of my wine, letting the warmth spread through me. Raised in a conservative family and not seeing the point of muddying my own mind I was never one to consume alcohol. That was until I finally understood that I was the last remaining human. That day I turned off my toxin-filtering nanomachines and drank until I was blackout drunk, hoping that Horde would kill me in my drunken state.

It didn’t happen.

“Those who want to live die and those who want to die live.”

I murmured myself, screams for help filling my head. The Queen’s soft laugh began to fade as the weight of history and personal grudges settled back into the room. I swirled the glass in my glass, taking a deep breath as the memories started to scratch at the edges of my mind again. The laughter, the wine, the company of these powerful women—it was all a temporary reprieve from everything else.

“You alright?” Aurora asked, her voice soft, but with a hint of concern that pierced the warm haze.

I looked at her, blinking away the ghosts of the past. “Yeah, just thinking about the past. The older you get, the more you do that.”

The Queen gave me a long, searching look as if she could see past the veil I’d thrown over those memories. Her eyes held a quiet understanding that went unspoken, and she didn’t push for more. Instead, she laughed.

“How old are you really, Champion? Your body is of a teenager’s but what about your mind?”

I let the question hang in the air for a moment, a crooked smile forming on my lips as I reached for the wine and filled my glass.

“Around 70. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. There was no one to count and most things lose their meaning when you are alone.”

The Queen's eyes widened, her laughter fading into a contemplative silence as she processed my words. Aurora seemed to notice too, the air growing heavier in the room.

“What was it like? Your world I mean?”

Aurora tried to lessen the tension and for a second it worked. The question she asked was something I wanted to speak about. Not being able to speak about the place you spent your entire time got really old after a while. It was nearly everything I knew and people in this world had no idea about it.

Yet, when I tried to utter something nice about Earth my brain filled with static.

“It was…”

I trailed off as a sky blackened by radioactive smoke filled my vision.

“I… don’t remember.”

The static grew louder.

“I can tell you about the war. For days. About the weapons. About how many last stands we had. About how we waited for hours under rain and sun for a sign of the enemy. But I can’t remember the peace. The good times.”

I could feel their eyes on me, the weight of their curiosity mingled with something deeper—sympathy, maybe. But sympathy was the last thing I wanted. I shifted in my seat, trying to escape the memories that were clawing at the surface.

The queen was the first one to move, touching her glass to mine.

“We’ll have to make sure that you acquire new good memories then.”

I waved a hand dismissively, forcing a smile.

“Yeah. I’m here now, aren’t I? Besides, I’ve got plenty to look forward to in this world. It’s not all bad.”

Her toast was followed by a soft murmur of agreement from Aurora and a clumsy cheer from Thalia, whose fervor seemed to have been channeled into a slurred attempt at camaraderie.

“Cheers to that,” Aurora said, raising her glass with a sincere smile. “To new beginnings and old friends.”

We chugged the wine at the same time and Aurora stood up.

“Her Majesty, Champion. It is time for us to retire.”

With a single gesture both Artemeni who was sleeping and Thalia who was hugging the bottle raised in the air. I also tried to stand up but Queen grabbed my arm with an iron grip. Her eyes held a spark of mischief, and her smile was as enigmatic as ever.

“The night is still young, Champion,” she said, her voice warm and inviting. “We have plenty more wine to drink, and I have no intention of letting this night end so soon.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her insistence. For once, I allowed myself to let go of the burdens I carried and embrace the present moment. The Queen, Aurora, and even Thalia, with her enthusiastic drunkenness, were a reminder that life, despite its trials, still had moments of joy and connection.

“Alright,” I said, raising my glass once more. “To the night and to new memories.”