A Lady With A Lady (Part 1)

Argider glanced around the room, her heart racing as she gingerly edged towards the door. A nervous, almost maniacal giggle escaped her lips as her fingers brushed the handle. "On second thought," she stammered, "perhaps I'll just, uh, take my leave—"

"Oh, you are going nowhere!" came Phirya's steely voice from behind her. Like a hawk swooping down on an unsuspecting mouse, Phirya darted forward, seized her by the ear, and hauled her back inside like a mischievous child caught red-handed.

"Ouch, ouch! Phirya, my ear! My ear!" Argider whined, her feeble attempts to squirm away met with only a firmer grip.

"What in blazes is going on here?" Faeralys sounded exasperated from the corner, hands planted on her hips, looking like she was somewhere between scandalized and mortified. "Why are you dragging her around like a sack of potatoes?"

Argider shot Faeralys a sideways look, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Really? Faeralys, of all people, daring to call her a pervert? This was the same woman who'd been giving her some very "intense" glances not two days ago.

But then, perhaps Argider shouldn't have been surprised. Faeralys somehow hadn't yet figured out that Argider was, in fact, the Emperor.

And it wasn't like that was some top-secret detail. That little tidbit had been announced empire-wide!

"Where have you been?" Phirya finally let go of Argider's ear and turned to Faeralys, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line of frustration. "This is your husband is for goodness' sake! And you're traipsing about like a headless chicken?"

Faeralys froze, her face caught somewhere between utter horror and confusion. She blinked, eyes flitting over Argider as she took stock of every detail:

White hair? Check.

Those weird eyes? Check.

Height? A touch shorter than expected, but…

And the face? Oh, definitely the sort of face that could inspire entire treaties on the subject of vexation.

"Oh," Faeralys's cheeks flared a brilliant shade of red. "Well, um, in my defense…" she stammered, "I, ah, don't exactly see Her Imperial Majesty all that often…so…" Her voice grew smaller as she glanced anywhere but at Argider.

Argider couldn't help a smirk. She could practically see Faeralys's mind reeling, piecing together memories of various encounters—and, most memorably, the time Faeralys had threw her away from the carriage and bruised her.

Treason!

She'd committed treason by accident! She could feel her insides twisting into a knot as she tried to remember if she did anything else that could land her in a cell.

Phirya, however, wasn't having any of it. "You're always disappearing, girl," she huffed, fixing Faeralys with a withering glare. "Running off into the wilderness, no less! How many times have I told you not to wander off like that?"

"I promised, Auntie!" Faeralys said hotly, as if her promises were more binding than royal decrees. "I promised!"

Meanwhile, Argider was silently marveling at the sheer absurdity of this family dynamic. Phirya was her usual self, unyielding as an iron statue, scolding her niece as if she were some unruly teenager.

And then there was herself, feeling like she was peering through a keyhole into a strangely compelling soap opera, with her as the unwilling guest star.

"And—wait!" Faeralys suddenly pointed an accusatory finger at Argider. "Why is His—no, Her—Imperial Majesty like this? Why is she a woman now?"

Phirya's jaw tightened as she shot a dark look Faeralys's way. "Young lady, that was announced to everyone. The gods have chosen her as the true heir! She was assassinated! Don't tell me… you," She leaned in, eyebrows raised. "Why did you call Her Imperial Majesty a pervert? Did you two meet somewhere?"

Faeralys's gaze dropped to the floor, and she mumbled something unintelligible, her face so red it was nearly luminous.

"Oh, and clueless as ever!" Phirya muttered, shaking her head. "You were sneaking away again, weren't you?"

At this, Phirya fixed her formidable scowl on Argider, who flinched under her scrutiny. It felt as though her very soul was under investigation, and sweat began to bead on her forehead.

There were few people in the world who could reduce the Emperor to a stammering mess, but Phirya's intense gaze had that power.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Phirya said with a voice sharp as a sword's edge. "Be honest. Did you encounter this girl?"

Behind Phirya's back, Faeralys gestured by zipping her lips with her fingers, then clasping her hands in a wordless plea.

Oh, now she wanted mercy? Argider scoffed to herself, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Suddenly, Miss I-Have-No-Idea-Who-The-Emperor-Is was trying to look pitiful. How convenient.

— [New Notification]

— [Minor Task: Lie To Phirya]

— [Increase Your Affection Points With Your Second Wife. Improving Your Relationships With Your Harem One By One Will Increase People's Perception And Your Performance In The Redemption System!]

— [Time Remaining: 30 seconds]

— [Punishment: Every Second Wasted Will Result In The Decrease Of Your Built-Up Points In Everything]

Of course, thought Argider, the system's always there to lend Faeralys a hand. Couldn't let her go a day without some miraculous save, apparently.

Just then, Alvator's voice piped up in her head, all serious and smug. "If I may offer some advice, Your Grace," he began, "it would be wise to… perhaps… tell Phirya that Faeralys saw you outside the whorehouse."

"What?! You want me to get killed?" Argider nearly choked. She was not exactly eager to be on the receiving end of one of Phirya's "How Dare You" stares.

Alvator's response was unyielding. "It's now or never."

She sighed, fidgeting awkwardly before finally clearing her throat and saying, "Well, I… may or may not have been, ah… standing in front of Elysium Boudoir, the, um… whorehouse."

Phirya's face contorted into a cocktail of shock, disgust, and something else Argider couldn't quite place—though it had quite the sting.

"... And Faeralys saw me… flirting with a few girls," Argider almost looked like she wanted to cry. Phirya didn't have to look that horrified!

— [Minor Task Complete!]

— [Affection Points +5]

— [Loyalty Points +5]

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[Processing...]

Ding!

— [New Relationship Status: Faeralys Merovia]

— [Affection ▪︎ 5]

— [Loyalty▪︎ 5]

— [Emotion▪︎ 100]

Laughter rang out from behind, and there was Faeralys, doubled over, practically gasping for air as she cackled at the absurdity of it all.

Argider's eye twitched. The nerve! Here she was, practically saving this girl's neck, and Faeralys was laughing—honest-to-goodness, bent-over laughing. There was no venom in it, just pure, unfiltered amusement, but it still grated on her.

"And what exactly is so funny, Faeralys?" Phirya asked, raising an eyebrow.

Faeralys took a steadying breath, trying to smother her remaining giggles as she moved to stand beside Argider, careful to look just slightly remorseful. "I just… I didn't expect Her Imperial Majesty to be so, um, honest." Her lips twitched, barely restraining more laughter.

Phirya, watching the spectacle, finally threw up her hands with a weary sigh. She collapsed into a nearby chair as if her very patience had drained out of her. "You two are so…" she paused, rubbing her temples, "…unlady-like. No manners, no poise. What are we going to do with you?"

While her auntie was under a momentary exasperation, Faeralys leaned in close to Argider, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't get cocky, Your Imperial Majesty," she murmured, a softness there that Argider wasn't used to. "It's not like I'm in love with you or anything… But I'm grateful."

Argider's breath caught for just a second. A strange flutter crept up her spine. Cute. The girl was cute, even if she was an absolute terror most of the time.

Argider looked away, not trusting herself to keep a straight face.

'Oh, dear heavens… if I were a man right now, I'd have done unspeakable things,' She gulped. 'If she keeps on being this cute, I might have to find more creative ways to go inside he-

"Argider!" Alvator's voice snapped through her thoughts like a stern tutor's ruler on a knuckle. "Celibacy, remember?"

She pouted at the interruption, bristling. Whatever!