This place was one of the reception rooms inside the royal palace.
"Anyway, that’s how it turned out."
At my explanation, Elga frowned sharply.
"What did you say?"
Was my summary too brief? I had no choice but to explain everything I’d been through in more detail for Elga’s sake.
"I’ll need to leave the capital for a little while."
"No, I get that part. What I don’t get is—how long has it even been since we returned to the capital, and now you’re saying you’re leaving again? Why can’t you ever stay in one place? Especially when your body’s still not fully healed?"
Elga was right.
Time had passed, but the aftermath of my clash with Ayra during the tournament still lingered in my body like a toxin.
Clench.
I clenched my fist in the air. Then circulated magic throughout my body to check my condition...
“......”
Still—I'd say I was about 80% recovered.
"Just the occasional migraine or some muscle stiffness. Lady Kalira gave me some medicine, so I think it’ll improve soon."
"Hmm..."
Elga rested her chin on her palm, clearly displeased. Next to her, sipping tea while listening, Mirna finally opened her mouth.
"She's just sulking. We were supposed to go try on wedding dresses together tomorrow. She’s annoyed the schedule’s been disrupted."
Ssst.
Elga’s hair practically bristled in reaction to Mirna’s words.
"You really think I’m upset because of that?"
"Aren’t you?"
"Ugh... Weren’t you supposed to go get your wedding portrait painted the day after tomorrow? That’s getting postponed too. Ink-nymphs are busy—rescheduling won’t be easy."
"That’s unavoidable."
Mirna nodded regretfully. I couldn’t help but wonder—ink-nymphs? Were those some kind of painter?
Apparently, in this world too, picking out a wedding dress and having it painted before the ceremony was standard practice.
And that wasn’t the only task to handle.
With so much going on, it was understandable if they weren’t thrilled that I was heading out of town.
I said,
"If you really object, I’ll give it up. I don’t have to be the one to go."
At that, Elga snapped.
"Hey! I never said you couldn’t go, okay? Don’t make it sound like I’m some possessive, nagging woman who chains her man down! Don’t paint me like I’m petty!"
Then she yanked my cheek and stretched it hard.
"Hiiiek...! It hurts...!"
When I writhed pitifully, Elga finally let go of my now-burning cheek. As I rubbed it soothingly, she sighed softly and ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ said,
"Go ahead. It’s not like you ever listen when we tell you not to do something anyway. Besides, there’s been some bad rumors about the Church lately, right? This is related to that, isn’t it?"
"More or less, yeah."
"Then if you’re going to deal with it, deal with it properly. If you drag this out and screw up the wedding, I swear—I’ll rip you to shreds."
"...Rip what to shreds, exactly?"
"Everything!"
Elga snapped, but I wasn’t dense enough to miss that she’d been generous enough to let me go despite my recklessness.
"What about the others? What do they think?"
I looked at Ayra, who was dozing lightly, Stella, who was trimming her nails, and Narmee, who was watering her pet imp Yingying perched on her hand.
I figured I should hear what the other women had to say too—but Elga snorted and proudly puffed out her chest.
"No need to ask them. Right now, they all have to listen to me. I’ve got the highest wife-points, which means I’m currently the head wife of this harem."
Mirna interjected,
"Even so, it’s only temporary. We agreed to reset the points after the wedding so we could all start on equal footing."
Resetting the points?
That would mean Elga, who had earned the most so far, might feel unfairly treated. I guess that’s why she was designated the temporary head wife until the ceremony.
Feeling a bit emotional, I said,
"I’m glad to see you all getting along and talking things through even without me."
If my wives could get along in my absence, there was nothing to worry about.
But all the women present frowned simultaneously at my words.
...Was there something not going well?
Best not to ask.
***
"Anyway, that’s how it happened. I’ve got about two days free. That should be plenty of time to go check it out and return."
At my explanation, Marmar wagged her tail awkwardly, looking very apologetic.
"I feel so bad... You’ve got a wedding to prepare for, and now I’m dragging you into this. I could’ve just gone with Professor Balan."
Swoosh.
Seated in the carriage, Marmar glanced toward Balan, who was sitting in the driver’s seat, struggling with the horses.
"Y-you stubborn beasts... Why won’t you listen to Professor Balan?! Move already! Yah, yah—!" freēwēbnovel.com
Yeah... sending her alone with Balan wasn’t the best idea.
In any case, the three of us—Balan, Marmar, and I—set off from the capital. According to Balan, the trip to Marmar’s old monastery would take about half a day at a hard gallop.
We’d probably arrive around dusk.
Since sitting still in a carriage for that long was boring, I checked through my inventory 《Squirrel Storage》 to make sure I’d packed everything.
I had emergency rations and camping supplies—just in case. While I was checking, Marmar, who had been knitting something, spoke up.
"The other ladies stayed in the capital to prepare for the wedding, right?"
"Yeah, something like that. Apparently there's a ritual of purification before the ceremony, so they're supposed to rest and pause their other work. If not for that, they might've come along."
It sounded a little ridiculous, saying it out loud.
Dragging a bunch of noblewomen along to visit Marmar’s old monastery would’ve been way over the top.
The carriage rattled on for hours, until the skies turned red with the setting sun. Eventually, we came to a stop in front of a wooded path thick with trees and underbrush.
"Professor Balan, is something wrong?"
"Lord Teo, here—"
We got off the carriage and looked ahead. There was a sign planted in the ground.
「This is the private hunting ground of Baron Voltaire. Be warned: arrows may fly without warning. Proceed with caution.」
"Lord Teo, it seems they really don’t recognize you."
"Yeah, I figured. Some monasteries live completely isolated from the outside world. This must be one of them."
Especially one hidden this deep in the woods.
***
The monastery lay much deeper within the forest than expected.
The path was so rugged and treacherous that we were glad we’d tied up the horses at the entrance. After a long and exhausting walk, a fence finally came into view.
“Ah...!”
Marmar’s steps began to quicken.
Soon, she ran past Faru, the forest keeper who had been guiding us, and we had to hurry after her so we wouldn’t lose sight of her.
“Marmar, wait for us!”
“Comrade! Look! It’s the monastery! It really exists! Just like I remember it!”
Marmar shouted with both arms raised high in the air. Beyond her small shoulders, a building came into view.
It was a three-story structure, with a wide garden, nearby fields, orchards, and a well—clearly a self-sustaining setup.
We’d be able to explore more thoroughly in the daylight. For now, what we could see were people holding torches and bonfires burning here and there.
Soon, people began to gather around us one by one.
“Faru, who are they?”
“This is, um, Marmar... She used to live here at the monastery, one of the sisters. It’s been a long time since she returned, and it’s so late at night... I couldn’t just leave her...”
Faru was sweating profusely. While it could have been from the long trek through the rough woods, it didn’t seem to be just that.
━Why do outsiders have to show up now of all times...? The baron is visiting tomorrow...
━Forget the imp—who are the other two?
The whispers started.
It was clear, even to the sharp senses of a fairy like me, that they weren’t exactly welcoming. Perhaps it was the closed-off nature of this place that made them wary of outsiders.
Then—
“What are you all doing? Return to your places, now.”
━Y-yes, Headmistress.
━We’re sorry...
Someone stepped through the crowd and approached us.
She wore a black head covering and a hard-looking wooden mask over her face.
Her age was uncertain, but her height was considerable. Her limbs were long and slender, rivaling even Ayra’s proportions. But swaying at her waist was a chestnut-shaped tail unmistakably that of an imp.
An imp...?
No—wasn’t she too tall to be an imp? From what I’d seen and heard, imps generally grew to about the size of an elementary schooler, or at most a middle schooler.
But the curves visible beneath her form-fitting nun’s habit suggested she was at least in her mid-twenties. In terms of sheer voluptuousness, she was on par with Professor Balan.
What was going on here?
As I puzzled over it, Balan—who’d been standing silently at my side—let out a soft “Hoooh...”
But there was no time to dwell on that.
“Narnar—could it be? Are you Narnar? Chestnut-tail Narnar! It is you, isn’t it!”
Imp Marmar called out to the black-clad nun in the mask with gleeful familiarity. Her waving tail and hands gave her the excited air of a puppy reunited with its long-lost master.
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