The Following Tuesday
I arrive at the site.
Roka hasn’t set up the table yet. That’s unusual.
Ah… the loose dirt she usually has piled up by lunchtime is nowhere to be found.
Isn’t that… good?
I sigh, set up the table and chairs myself.
A moment later, she floats over—like her spirit has left her body—and melts into the seat.
“Roka?”
She looks up, finally noticing me. Her expression shifts.
“Ah. Ryu.”
She perks up a bit, but she’s clearly in a mood today. Uh-oh. Time to tread carefully.
“What’s wrong?”
She sighs, long and slow, then starts talking. I mirror some of her words like they taught us in “Pretend You’re Paying Attention 101.”
“Since this new method of yours was used… now I can’t keep up with them. They tried to fix it by sending some of my crew to the other trenches, but the mages over there dig even slower than I do. Now the crews using the new method have the same problem.”
Ah.
Damn it—I created another problem.
She slumps over the table, looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes.
Ah—my fatal weakness.
I close my eyes. Think.
…Got it.
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“What if we shuffle the crews and assign three magicians to digging instead of two? Then I’ll start digging in the empty trench and take some of your extra crew off your hands.”
She snaps to attention.
It always feels ridiculously good when she gets it immediately. She slams her fist into her palm.
“You’ll help? B-but why?”
I can almost see the question mark floating above her head.
“Remember what you said last week?”
She goes red instantly.
I start unwrapping lunch.
We eat. We finish.
Then she suddenly looks over my shoulder.
Two people are approaching—a woman and her butler. The butler holds a parasol, shielding her from the sun.
As they get closer, I recognize her.
One of the girls who stood behind the king during the reward ceremony—the onee-chan who waved at me.
Then I notice something else.
She’s… huge.
They bounce.
I attempt to look away.
I fail.
She notices and smiles.
Oh no.
It’s a bewitching smile.
They arrive. Roka and I stand instinctively.
She’s wearing a gothic lolita dress—pink and black—with a neckline absolutely designed to kill men. Thigh-high boots. Smooth white hair in a bob cut just above her shoulders. Slightly tanned skin.
“It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Sir Hero!”
She places a hand innocently in front of her chest—making it absolutely impossible not to look there.
God help me.
“I am known as Felmina. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
She bows.
“I have a very serious matter to discuss with you. Would that be fine?”
I don’t know how to respond. My eyes keep dragging downward like someone attached weights to them.
I nod on instinct.
She suddenly grabs my hand, pulling it to her.
“If you would be so kind as to have a marriage interview with me as well—for your second wife. If you insist on taking only one wife, please choose me instead.”
She shoots Roka a dirty look before focusing back on me. I’m too stunned to react.
“I know I’ll be a better wife than her.”
She pulls my hand up—to her chest.
I think my nose is bleeding.
“What do you say, Sir Hero?”
She lets my hand go, steps back, and lifts her elbows slightly—pushing her chest forward.
“I know I’m better than her in that department.”
I glance at Roka.
She stands there with her mouth open, hand halfway raised like she wants to protest—
But she retracts it.
Closes her mouth.
Looks down.
Dismayed.
That snaps me out of whatever spell Felmina cast.
I take a step back, close my eyes, breathe in deeply.
“Nope.”
She freezes.
This woman reminds me of Steph—the touching, the leaning in, the practiced seduction techniques. The manipulation.
It pisses me off.
Especially when I see Roka’s face.
“Not a chance in hell. Excuse me.”
I start marching away.
I glance at Roka.
She’s looking up at me—sad expression gone.
Good.
But when I look at Felmina standing beside her…
…something doesn’t feel right.
