AURORA STORMBRINGER POV

Following the conclusion of the purportedly significant gathering between our two nations, Lyra and I discover ourselves occupying a commodious guest room within the magnificent castle. Despite the fact that the room is ornately adorned with aesthetically pleasing decorations, striking furnishings, and a sophisticated interior that resembles the chambers of the queen herself, Lyra, my companion, appears to be vehemently opposed to the idea of staying here.

As we stepped into the spacious room, the first thing that caught our eyes was the impressive and intricate decor. The walls were draped with elegant tapestries that depicted scenes of battles and conquests, while the high ceiling was adorned with a striking chandelier that illuminated the room with a soft glow. The floor was laid with the finest Persian rugs that complemented the mahogany furniture, including a king-size bed, an antique armoire, and a comfortable chaise lounge.

Despite the grandeur of the guest room, Lyra appeared to be visibly annoyed with the idea of staying in such a setting. Her displeasure was evident in the way she scrunched up her nose in distaste, let out an exasperated sigh, and muttered under her breath, "Tch, to let her highness stay in a place like this. How dare they subject us to such inadequate lodgings!"

As Lyra paced back and forth in the room, her mind raced with thoughts of retribution. "I should go and teach them a lesson," she thought to herself, her eyes narrowed in anger. "How dare they treat us with such insolence! I must make them understand the gravity of their mistake and the importance of treating their guests with the utmost respect and hospitality."

Mind you, although Lyra has her own room, she took it upon herself to become my personal maid in the absence of Evangeline, who did not come with us. She even shooed away the maid who was assigned to take care of me under the orders of the queen of this nation. At this point, I don't even know what to think of her.

"Lyra, please stop whatever it is that you are about to do," I sternly commanded, as I calmly and leisurely lowered myself onto a plush and cozy chair that was conveniently placed nearby.

I could sense Lyra's confusion and disbelief as she looked at me with a puzzled expression. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in my presence, and her lips parted slightly in astonishment.

Without hesitation, she spoke up with a hint of awe in her voice, "But your majesty, this room isn't suitable for someone as great as you," her words reverberating through the spacious chamber with her usual tone.

I looked her straight in the eye and spoke in a voice that exuded confidence and unwavering conviction. With a calm and measured tone, I uttered her name, "Lyra," and continued, "I want to make it clear that I do not require any grandeur or extravagance to feel great about myself."

As I spoke, Lyra maintained a dignified and composed demeanor, never breaking a sweat or losing her poise. She moved with the elegance of a swan, gracefully brewing me a cup of tea that smelled so divine, it was like a fragrance factory exploded in the room.

Her movements were like a well-choreographed dance, each step deliberate yet effortless, as she flawlessly poured the steaming hot tea into the cup. It was like watching a magic show, the way she expertly handled the teapot and cups, and created a beautiful pattern with the tea that was practically hypnotizing.

I was so captivated by the whole thing, I could have sworn I saw unicorns prancing around in the room. Okay, maybe not unicorns, but Lyra's tea-making skills were definitely magical enough to make me feel like I was in a fairytale.

"Your majesty, your boundless kindness continues to leave me in awe," she whispered, gliding gracefully towards me with a steaming cup of tea in hand. As she reminisced about the morning's events, she revealed, "I was about to go on a rampage and murder everyone in sight because I couldn't handle their incessant jabbering, but your serene composure kept me grounded."

Oh no no no, Lyra! My brain screams in terror at the mere thought of what she's contemplating. I had high hopes that she had become more empathetic towards others since she was actually paying attention to what they had to say before chiming in with her two cents, but it seems those hopes were dashed. It turns out she was just suppressing her wicked impulses all along, knowing full well that I would not approve if she acted on them.

Lyra, with a gentle and graceful touch, delicately places the teacup adorned with intricate patterns and designs onto the surface of the modest table, situated just within my reach. I proceed to take the cup with cautious intent, the warm steam emanating from the fragrant tea, tickling my nose. The smooth surface of the ceramic caresses my fingers as I bring the cup towards my lips, taking a tentative sip.

Upon tasting the rich and complex flavor of the tea, I utter, "That wouldn't be good for us, Lyra," in a calm and measured tone, "You're well aware of our purpose for being here," I continue, my words measured and deliberate.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Lyra, a vision of poise and elegance, settles into her seat with a grace befitting of royalty. Her fingers expertly cradle the teacup, and she takes a slow, contemplative sip of her own. Her eyes, the color of the rich sky, sparkle with a hint of admiration as she turns towards me.

With a voice as smooth as velvet, she speaks, "Truly, I am once again astounded by your sheer magnificence." Her words, filled with reverence and respect.

But I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping up within me as I tried to process the meaning behind Lyra's words. Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting? My mind raced with possibilities as I struggled to come to terms with what had just been said.

But before I could even begin to gather my thoughts, Lyra continued on with a sense of conviction that left no room for doubt. Her voice was unwavering as she outlined her plan, her words like a hammer driving home the point. "By showcasing our military prowess in one decisive strike, we will not only force their submission, but also gain greater leverage during the negotiation process," she explained.

As the weight of her words settled in, I felt a chill run down my spine. The implications of what she was suggesting were enormous, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of consequences they would bring. The reason behind my decision to bring a portion of my army here had been to provide evidence, as demanded by them, but now it seemed like that plan had been completely overshadowed.

Lyra's unexpected proclamation had thrown a wrench into everything I had meticulously constructed. My mind raced as I tried to come up with a response, but my thoughts were jumbled and disjointed. What should I do? How should I proceed? These were questions that I couldn't answer, not with the weight of Lyra's words bearing down on me.

I made a valiant attempt to interrupt Lyra's impulsive rambling with a sense of urgency, hoping to quell her before she got carried away with her thoughts. With great effort, I tried to bring her back to the matter at hand, by calling her name, "Um, Lyra..." However, she seemed to be lost in her own world, and her incessant chatter continued without pause, as if my attempt to interject had gone unheard.

"Draven," she declared with an air of confidence, "is on the case."

At this point, I could feel my patience starting to wear thin, but before I could utter a single word, Lyra had already launched into the specifics of the plan she had devised.

Without missing a beat, Lyra proceeded to provide me with additional details, which she seemed to have thought through and planned meticulously. She took a brief pause to gather her thoughts, before continuing with a sense of satisfaction, "He will bring about twenty of the old outdated airship carriers, as well as fifty battleships," she stated nonchalantly

It was a casual statement, one that seemed to suggest that she had ordered nothing more than a pizza delivery. But as I listened to her describe the sheer magnitude of the forces that Draven was bringing to bear, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settling over me.

"Of course," she began, "I highly doubt that their feeble little minds would be able to comprehend the sheer force and power of our full military might. It is quite clear that they are simply not equipped to handle such strength."

She took a moment to take a sip of her tea, her delicate porcelain cup held elegantly in her perfectly manicured hands. She continued, "That is precisely why I decided to tell Draven to bring the Airship carriers and battleships, rather than opting for the more advanced Starweavers or even the mighty Colossus Vanguard. After all, we must tailor our approach to match the level of our opponent's understanding, and I fear that anything more complex would be lost on them."

As she spoke, her eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail with a critical eye. She seemed entirely unperturbed by the gravity of the situation, as if she were discussing nothing more than the weather.

Well, well, well, would you look at that! My brain has decided to take a sudden vacation and left me stranded with a perplexing problem. Now, if you were in my shoes, what would you do? I'll tell you what I always do when I'm faced with a conundrum that leaves me stumped. I simply leave it blank and wait to see what magically appears before my very eyes!

I gracefully place the delicate porcelain teacup back onto the ornate table in front of me as I remark on the apparent thoughtfulness that had gone into Lyra's words. "It seems you put a great deal of consideration into your plan," I observed, my eyes locked onto hers, hoping to convey the sincerity of my statement.

Lyra, ever the poised and confident one, took another delicate sip of her tea before responding with a smile. "Your words are like sweet music to my ears, your majesty," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of pride at the praise. Despite the hint of sarcasm in my original remark, Lyra seemed to take it in stride, her crooked mind always finding a way to impress.

"But," she continued, her voice carrying a certain air of confidence and determination that commanded attention, "the plan doesn't end there," she said, her eyes glinting with a spark of ambition as she leaned forward in her seat. She paused momentarily, taking a delicate sip from her tea cup before placing it back down with the same fluid motion she used to pick it up.

"You see, the other nations that have spies located in this nation's war," she said, her tone growing more animated with each passing word, "will, without a doubt, notice our might." She grinned slightly at the end, the corners of her mouth curling upwards in a sly and knowing manner, as if she had already anticipated the reaction of those who would bear witness to the sheer power and influence of her plan.

"Gulp" I hastily swallowed the tea in my mouth, nearly choking in the process. It was either that or spraying Lyra with a mist of hot tea, and let's just say that wouldn't have gone over well. What could have caused such a visceral reaction, you ask? Only the completely outrageous thing that Lyra just said, of course. I could already feel the headache-inducing repercussions of this conversation looming on the horizon. Looks like Lyra's words will be the gift that keeps on giving.