“Your Excellency, the nation of monsters I have reported to you about has sent me an invitation.”
Erald took a letter out from his pocket, presenting it to her. He had already checked it for traps or hidden poisons, and he knew what it read, but he did not say it out loud; he was fully aware of how the emperor disliked people telling her things before she could see them for herself.
But he had his concerns. I truly never expected that slime would ever be recognized as a demon lord. But even if he has…why would he call someone like me to this coronation of sorts?
The letter Erald presented to the emperor was, in fact, addressed to him. There was no need to show it to Elmesia. But as the letter put it: Please reply if able to attend, providing the number of participants you wish to bring. He interpreted this to mean he could bring as many plus-ones as he felt like. But who should join him? That was the rub. Some bodyguards would be a must, but the archduke could hardly show up alone. Many of the nobles he had previously reported his travels to expressed keen interests in visiting for themselves.
With Tempest becoming a new trade partner, courtly circles across the Sorcerous Dynasty were alive with talk of this new land. And the fascination was hardly exclusive to the nobility. When the emperor received the initial report of Erald’s audience with the demon lord Rimuru, her eyes had been cold and focused as she gave her response:
“…Hmm. So you went off to this fabulous land all by yourself? Well, weren’t you fortunate, Erald. I imagine it was quite the exciting experience. And why did you leave me behind, hmm? Even naming yourself my representative and establishing ties with them, no less? If our business with them was that important, I would have liked to involve myself with it, wouldn’t you agree?”
She had a point. But Erald came to Tempest on the pretense of rescuing his daughter, and what he found was a literal nation of monsters. He may have transferred his spirit into the body of a homunculus, but there was no telling what could have befallen him. There was no way he could have guaranteed Elmesia’s safety if he took her there.
But the emperor gave him no quarter. “If that is the charming sort of slime you met, I wish I could have seen him for myself. And meeting with a demon lord so soon after his birth? Why, I’ve lived for many, many years, and not even I have been graced with that opportunity. And look at you, hogging it for yourself! Does the term abandonment mean anything to you? Imagine, being treated this way by my own people. What a pitiful leader I am…”
She had continued in this vein for a bit longer before wrapping it up like so:
“I’ve never been so envious—um, so offended in my life, I don’t think. You, taking in all this excite—ahhh, risking all this danger and going off by yourself. It is scandalous!”
Elmesia’s rebuke was really more whining than scolding. Most of her vassals only knew her unreadable mask and assumed the heart beneath was just as icy; she only showed this side of her personality to Archduke Erald and one other, although Erald took the brunt of it. If only they knew what’s actually underneath, he always thought.
However, thanks to the emperor’s pouting, the budget for this effort had been frozen, their plans to share technology with Tempest delayed for the time being. Erald wanted to soothe her hurt feelings about it all so they could get the ball rolling on the tech swap again. If he decided to join the festivities solo without informing Elmesia, he’d most certainly be inviting her rage upon him. By that point, he feared, the frozen budget would be the least of his worries.
This demon lord coronation was, in its own way, a show of force. It was devised to display Rimuru’s strength as demon lord to the nations around him. They would be holding a festival in conjunction, along with assorted unspecified but large-scale entertainment. There was no way the eternally bored Elmesia would pass up an opportunity to attend such an exciting-sounding event. Erald knew she’d sniff it out, then interrogate him about not reporting it to her. The potential consequences for her wrath were beyond imagination.
Thus, Erald opted to hide nothing and just show her the letter.
Now she lifted her head, fresh from reading it. Erald sat up straight in his seat.
“So what do you intend to do with this?” Elmesia asked.
“Do what, Your Excellency?”
He was buying time, but Erald knew what Elmesia meant. He knew, but he couldn’t say it himself. If the emperor was going to join the festivities, this was now an official state visit, and that took the entire administration to prepare for. It was too significant a thing for Erald to suggest from his own lips. He wanted to be sure anything that came from this meeting was, first and foremost, the emperor’s idea.
“Mmm, playing dumb, are we? Do you know, Erald, of the sweet pastries we procured from that man Yoshida’s bakery? They’re far tastier than they used to be, aren’t they? Could you venture a guess as to why?”
Erald fell silent. This change of subject was unexpected.
“Or are you saying a strategic genius such as yourself is oblivious to the goings-on in the streets? What a disappointment.”
“I apologize, Your Excellency. By Yoshida, you refer to the baker who runs the establishment in Englesia you enjoy so much? I believe the kingdom provides for his personal safety as an otherworlder, despite his lack of fighting skill. I was unaware that his work was distributed to Thalion, but how is that related to
