Case 149: The crown princess’s headache.

Case 149: The crown princess’s headache.

''Hah...''

These days, Sierra feels as though she has aged rapidly for each moment she is awake.

With every demon attack comes another pile of work to do. Managing infrastructure restoration projects, managing aids for the impacted civilians, scheming defensive strategies to present to the crown, etc.

At this point, every government employee is overworked, but Sierra's situation is even more serious. She has responsibilities as the crown princess, meaning there is no way out of this mess.

'Should I just quit...'

It is so severe that the power-hungry Sierra has thought of quitting multiple times.

'Maybe the ordinary life isn't so bad, after all.'

In the first place, why is she trying so hard for the throne? If someone asks Sierra that question, she will struggle to answer. Do these political ventures stem from her own accord? Did it start from the desire to surpass her sibling? Did her mother or father encourage it?

There is no good answer. At some point, the princess has already dedicated too much of herself to let go.

What was it, the Sunk Cost Fallacy?

Whatever it is, Sierra can't call it quit now. She wouldn't want to be an irresponsible person. Ever.

Shaking off the unnecessary thoughts, Sierra grabs the files she has prepared and drags her legs up. It is time for the regular meeting with the top officials.

The path to the designated room is rather long.

Even as she walks the hallway toward it, her eyes seem eager to shut at any moment. Her vision starts to show defects, forming strange patterns and showing blatant hallucinations. Unconsciously, her hand holding the files also relaxes on its own—

''Huh...''

Sierra glances at the papers scattered below her feet.

'No good. I can't work like this.'

It is an objective statement. She won't be able to function right at this rate.

Drowned in a heavy sense of sleepiness, Sierra accelerates her steps toward the meeting room with the intention of dropping these documents before crashing into bed.

''Hm?''

Suddenly, she spots two figures standing on the side of the hallway. Their appearance is striking, so it is hard to ignore.

One of them is Ivan Apollo, the head of the Apollo Duchy and the Sword Saint—a renowned grandmaster. The other is a maiden whose pale blond hair resembles that of her father. Moreover, the emerald-like green eyes seem to have not been lost through generations.

If anything, she's obviously a blood-related family of Ivan, but if there is one distinct feature about her... it would be the rather unique necklace that she wears. It is a ruby in the shape of an eye.

''Father, can I truly not...?''

''No. Rules are made to be followed.''

''I see...''

''Don't be too discouraged. You can accompany me on other occasions.''

Janet Apollo, the youngest daughter of the Apollo Duchy—a self-proclaimed genius. She has been popular in recent times amongst the noble ladies for her witty personality and cheerfulness. It is to the point that she has been granted an audience with Her Majesty, the empress.

'How convenient.'

''Starting to?''

''Eh?! Ah... l-let's play some volleyball!''

It is the middle of the night.

Recently, Claire has found the lectures to be rather redundant. This is largely because she has been receiving lessons from various sources, most of which are top experts in their fields. Thus, the curriculum aimed at the general student base has become obsolete for her.

So, she spends her time in class sleeping instead.

Gradually, as she follows this schedule, she has somehow become a night owl—figuratively.

The gym is open all day, but there are very few people there at night, especially at midnight. So, earlier, there was only her and Aurora. Being alone with the owl maid has been a bit awkward ever since that incident at the Heisenberg's place. Moreover...

''Ugh...''

Claire's eyes can't help but be glued to Aurora's exposed abdomen. The milky white, damp skin contrasting her black shorts and top. The lean, exquisitely defined abs...

Yes. It is precisely this that made Claire stammers earlier.

In truth, she doesn't particularly want to play volleyball—it's just something she blurted out without thinking.

Claire blames Aurora for blatantly showing her belly like that. Now, more than ever, her little anger meter suddenly spurts up. So, she walks up to Aurora, who is fanning her body with her handy pair of wings.

''It's still cold these days. Why do you keep wearing these skimpy outfits, huh?''

She says, lightly pinching the maid's side.

''...''

''...''

New drops of sweat begin to roll down Claire's back as Aurora silently stares at her hand. The blank expression, coupled with that piercing pair of slit eyes, make for a nerve-wracking experience.

Slowly, the heroine starts to get panicked.

She wants to retract her hand and make it seem like nothing has happened, but thanks to the invisible pressure weighing down her entire body, she can hardly move a muscle.

A step.

''...!''

Aurora lightly takes a step forward, her eyes curving up ever so slightly.

''What do you think?''

She whispers straight into Claire's ear, freezing—figuratively—her entire body.

It is a surprisingly coquettish voice coming from Aurora, of all people, so the heroine stays in a daze for a long while.

A colorful intonation.

Slightly hoarse, honey-dripping tone.

As if... it is an entirely different person.

*****