Chapter 239: Majestic(4)
Chapter 239: Majestic(4)
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When is it that a person feels 'shame'?
Is it when they are insulted by another? That’s true.
Is it when their weaknesses are exposed to the world? That’s also true.
Is it when they feel secondhand embarrassment watching someone else's actions? That is also true.
As such, the circumstances under which a person feels embarrassment or shame vary from individual to individual.
However, just as it is said that once words are spoken, they cannot be taken back, there are many instances where one blurts out whatever comes to mind just to win an argument, only to suffer intense shame afterward.
Though she realized it too late, as I just mentioned, spoken words cannot be swallowed back down. In such cases, it’s common to dwell on the moment for a long time, leading to what is often called 'kicking the blankets' in regret.
Furthermore, what if those words touched upon a very sensitive area in a relationship between a man and a woman? And what if those words just happened to slip out?
"Uh... Arwen?"
"..."
Even the Elf Queen who rules Albenheim could not withstand the tidal wave of shame and sought to hide. That was exactly Arwen’s state right now.
Despite having courageously voiced her Elven Communistic sentiments, a brief silence had followed, and she had immediately gone into hiding.
Where? Under the blankets. She must have been so embarrassed that she didn't even consider that it was my blanket before diving under it without hesitation.
After that, she climbed onto the bed and curled up like a silkworm cocoon, refusing to answer even when I called her name softly.
'This is quite the situation...'
I watched Arwen, who was wrapped tightly in the blanket on the bed, and let out a troubled smile.
I could never forget that initial silence. It felt as if Arwen’s declaration—that she wanted to sleep with me—was echoing like a phantom hallucination.
What followed was exactly what everyone would expect. Once she realized the gravity of what she’d said, her face turned bright red, and she transformed into a cocoon.
It was embarrassing enough just to hear it; I could only imagine how she felt. Because of that, I could fully empathize with her.
Though, I couldn't help but think she seemed a bit like a child. The fact that this behavior suited Arwen’s appearance so well was another trap in itself.
But if I left things like this, Arwen would never emerge from under those covers. I had to soothe her somehow to end this awkward situation.
I glanced over at Cecile, who was standing there with one corner of her mouth curled up in sheer disbelief.
While Arwen was writhing internally with shame, Cecile was rendered speechless by the absurdity of it all. I don't think I'd ever seen Cecile look so genuinely unimpressed.
"Ahem. Ahem. Arwen?"
"..."
"Arwen. Say something."
Arwen didn't budge, even after I called her name repeatedly. Thinking perhaps I was being too quiet, I climbed onto the bed.
As I did, the blanket-wrapped Arwen flinched visibly.
Even if she couldn't hear me clearly, she would have felt the vibration, so she likely knew I was approaching.
I leaned my face toward the part I assumed was her head and spoke the words that would force her out.
"That’s my blanket. Are you going to stay in there forever?"
"......!"
Flap!
The words must have been quite provocative to the current Arwen, as the edge of the blanket flew up and covered my face.
I closed my eyes patiently and waited for her to fully emerge from her shell.
Soon, I felt the blanket that had been tossed up slide back down, and I could tell Arwen had come out, much like an adult insect emerging from its cocoon.
I pulled the blanket off my face and—
"Arwe—"
"..."
I found Arwen lying face down in the corner of the bed, no longer even bothering with the blanket. I was momentarily lost for words.
She seemed to be trying her hardest not to make eye contact with me, but given her posture, I couldn't help but stare blankly.
A pair of lush, ripe, giant peaches were hanging right in front of me. No further explanation is needed; that one phrase is enough to deduce the situation.
She was currently prostrate as if bowing toward the wall, and because of that position, her superior rear silhouette was on full display.
Her hips were already striking enough normally, but seeing them while she was lying like that made it impossible not to be entranced. It was a charm just as lethal as Cecile’s chest.
"Quite the seductress, aren't you, Your Majesty? You certainly have various ways of showing off."
Cecile, clearly displeased with Arwen’s posture, spoke in a sarcastic tone.
Only then did Arwen realize the situation she was in and scrambled to her feet without a word.
However, she continued to face the wall, and instead of lying down, she was now kneeling and pressing herself as close to the wall as possible.
The funny thing was, even then, she couldn't hide the lines of her figure. In fact, every time she shifted her posture, her strengths were highlighted even more.
I decided that if I let this continue, I’d spend the rest of the day just staring at Arwen’s hip line. I snapped myself out of it and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Thud.
The moment my hand touched her shoulder, Arwen’s body flinched violently. She even began to tremble.
Thinking there was no need for her to shake that much, I slowly pulled her shoulder back. At first, she resisted, tensing up, but when I pulled firmly, her head slowly turned toward me.
And then...
"...Arwen?"
"Hic. Gulp..."
I came face-to-face with Arwen, whose silver-grey eyes were brimming with tears. Her face was so red it looked ready to explode, and her lips were tightly pursed.
In private settings, away from her role as Queen, Arwen becomes exceptionally expressive, and now was no different.
It seemed she had been overwhelmed by a surge of unbearable embarrassment and shame.
Since her appearance was far from mature to begin with, she looked like a crying child. Was it just my imagination that my heart began to ache for her?
"...Are you crying?"
"Hic. I-I am not crying...!"
Like hell you aren't. Your nose is as red as a strawberry.
While I was thinking that, Arwen hurriedly wiped away her tears with her dainty hands.
I wanted to wipe them for her with a handkerchief, but she had already finished before I could act. Besides, I was conscious of Cecile watching from the side.
After wiping her tears for a while, Arwen finally managed to speak in a nasal voice, seemingly unaware that the tip of her nose was still bright red.
"P-Please ignore what I said just now. I feel like I might die of embarrassment..."
"Um... okay."
The words "I don't want to" rose to my throat, but I managed to suppress them.
If I teased her now, she really would burst into tears, so it was better to hold back. Arwen might actually end up resenting me.
However, even if I didn't tease her, there was no rule saying Cecile wouldn't. In fact, Cecile was busy mocking her as if she’d caught her in a moment of weakness.
"You know you can't take back what's been said, right? Honestly, doing it once wouldn't be so bad. Though Mari would probably throw a fit."
"...Sister."
"Uuuuu..."
I looked at Cecile with an 'I give up' expression, while Arwen covered her face with both hands in shame.
Regardless, Cecile simply stuck out her tongue playfully, showing off her characteristic mischievousness.
I’d have to give her a proper scolding once Arwen left. Seeing her acting so cheeky, she probably wanted it deep down anyway.
"Whew... I am sorry. I don't know what I'm doing, acting like a child..."
"As long as you know. I didn't realize you had that kind of taste, though."
"I-It is not a 'taste'! Do not misunderstand!"
In any case, the situation eventually wound down, and Arwen fanned her face with her hands, trying to cool down.
Of course, every time she caught sight of my face, the heat would rise again, making her efforts futile. It seemed this was something even magic couldn't fix.
What started as a spat between an Elf and a Demon had suddenly turned into a battle between breasts and hips, only to conclude with Elven Communism.
Sensing that further arguing might lead things in an even stranger direction, both Cecile and Arwen began to watch their words.
"So, do most Demons have a physique like yours?"
"Well, people with breasts as large as mine are rare. Since ancient times, we had to be able to give birth safely despite our harsh environment. Do Elves not have something like that?"
"Elves have no such history, but before we engage in sexual relations, we visit the temple to receive divine power. If a child is conceived while holding that divine power, they inherit all the physical talents of their parents. This is why half-elves are often indistinguishable from pure-blooded Elves."
Thanks to that, I learned the secret behind the Elves' superior genetics. I knew from my studies that Elves viewed sex as a sort of sacred ritual.
But this was the first I’d heard of visiting a temple to receive divine power—and that this power allows the child to inherit all the parents' talents.
One might ask if humans could do the same, but it’s because they are Elves that they can fully absorb the divine power; humans cannot. Let’s first consider why they are called the race chosen by the gods.
At first glance, it might seem like the gods are being discriminatory, but in exchange—if you can call it that—humans were gifted with infinite reproductive capacity. This means they are at a great advantage for ancestors to leave behind knowledge and for descendants to use that knowledge as a stepping stone for development.
'It's like they're a late-game scaling race.'
But looking at history, that’s half-true. Elves are simply strong from the start, while humans are a race with insane developmental potential.
While I was reflecting on human traits, I shifted my gaze back to Arwen.
If she inherited all the physical talents, why was Arwen so short? Her hips were undeniably magnificent, but her height was quite a shame.
Sensing my gaze, Arwen’s face flushed for a moment before she cleared her throat and spoke quietly.
"Ahem. Ahem. Why are you staring like that? It is quite burdensome."
"I was just wondering why you're so short."
"...My father forgot and received less divine power than intended."
"I see."
One mystery was cleanly solved. Arwen glared at my now-relaxed face before letting out a sigh.
Then, she narrowed her eyes fiercely and spoke up.
"Then, in what part of your body are you most confident?"
"Huh? Me?"
"Yes. It would be unfair if only we were the ones talking. So, you speak as well."
Arwen had brought up another Elven Communistic point. I blinked at the question.
It seemed that since I’d touched upon her complex, she wanted me to experience the same. This was getting a bit awkward.
As I scratched my head, wondering how to answer, Cecile, who was standing beside me, chimed in.
"Perhaps it could be said he is similar to you, Your Majesty."
"Eh?"
"What do you mean?"
Both Arwen and I turned our gaze toward her. What could she possibly mean by saying my physical strength was similar to Arwen’s?
Since even I had no idea what she was talking about, I looked at her with doubt. Cecile then wore a most wicked smile and answered in a suggestive voice.
"Isaac’s lower body is also quite exceptional, just like yours, Your Majesty."
"..."
I knew she’d do that. She truly is the princess of sexual innuendo. That’s Cecile for you.
I covered my face with one hand at the joke that was embarrassing just to hear. It seemed she had found a new joy in teasing Arwen, just as she used to do with me.
"Lower body? Does Isaac also have well-developed hips? I have never heard of a man having well-developed hips, though it is common for women."
Did she not catch the implication at first? Arwen tilted her head and shifted her gaze toward my lower body.
After staring intensely at my lower body for a long time, something seemed to click. Arwen’s body suddenly stiffened. Then, a flush began to spread from her neck all the way to her ears.
Ah. It seems she finally realized. I had hoped she would remain pure, but perhaps I expected too much from a half-blood.
Twitch. Twitch. Twitch.
Her long, Elven ears were flicking up and down—a sign of how excited she was. I’d read in books that an Elf’s ears move up and down when they experience intense emotions.
This was the first time I’d seen it with my own eyes. It meant Arwen’s emotions were in total turmoil.
Fortunately, perhaps the previous shame had acted as a sort of vaccine. With her eyes looking like they were about to spin, Arwen barely managed to speak.
"I-I see. I think I understand what you mean. A man’s l-lower body is also important for bearing children well. Yes. Indeed."
"...Arwen."
"Ah, no. It is fine. You do not need to be so embarrassed. I am an adult as well, so I can handle a joke of this level."
Your ears are still flicking, you Elf.
Meanwhile, Cecile was enjoying Arwen’s reaction, turning her head away to stifle her laughter. I wanted to give her a flick on the forehead, but I had to endure for now.
In the midst of the multi-layered awkwardness, Arwen finally managed to cool her face down. Nevertheless, her gaze kept drifting toward my crotch.
"Whew... regardless, you are too much, Princess of Helium. Do not tease me so."
"Pfft. I-I’m sorry. It’s just that you were so cute, Your Majesty..."
Cecile apologized while wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Calling the Queen of a nation 'cute' was somewhat rude, but it signified how close the two had become.
Arwen also brushed it off and quietly stood up. I looked up at her as she rose.
"Are you leaving now?"
"Yes. I would like to stay longer, but time cannot be stopped."
"You can visit whenever you like."
"Thank you. But Isaac, before I go, let me ask one thing."
"What is it?"
The time for parting was at hand. It had been a short visit, but it was meaningful in many ways, making the regret feel even stronger.
Arwen gazed down at my face and quietly curled the corners of her mouth. That smile was filled with deep affection and warmth.
As I stared into her mesmerizing silver-grey eyes, she spoke in a quiet voice.
"Reading the Xenon Biography makes me certain, but the more I meet you, the more confused I become. Isaac, are you a prophet or a person from the future, as the world speculates? I heard from Siris that you are not."
"You too? I told you, I’m not. That’s all nonsense."
I let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity. I waved my hand dismissively, denying it as if it were nothing.
A normal person would have believed me here, but it seemed Arwen was different.
Seeing my reaction, she nodded as if her suspicions were confirmed.
"I see. Then, please answer this question as well."
"What is it?"
"Are you..."
The question Arwen followed up with was...
"Did you come from a place entirely different from the world we live in?"
"What..."
It was a question more than enough to stun me, a 'reincarnated person.'
The moment I heard it, my heart sank, and I felt the blood in my body turn cold.
How did she know? I had occasionally hinted that I was the author of the Xenon Biography, but I had never once described myself as a reincarnated person.
In the first place, I had no lingering attachments to my past life, so I had been able to blend into this world completely. Even if occasional differences in common sense arose, they were never a problem.
So, for what reason did she ask such a question? Was it because of the 'Restriction' the world was buzzing about?
Since the gods had placed a restriction on me, I couldn't reveal it directly—was she asking indirectly like that?
I had no idea. My mind was a tangled mess of confusion.
When I couldn't say a word and could only gape, Arwen seemed to find confirmation in my reaction and wore an even deeper smile than before.
It wasn't just a smile; even her silver-grey eyes began to sparkle, expressing clear 'joy.'
And then...
"That answer is enough!"
With those energetic words, she vanished via teleportation.
But even after she left, there was still something remaining...
"Isaac?"
"..."
"What... what does that mean? Is it true?"
Cecile was staring at me, her eyes wide with shock.