Alicia (1)
Anna introduced a young girl.
Too young. She looked even younger than Yu-na—practically a child, in Bahamut's eyes. Standing shorter than Yu-na, the girl was accompanied by someone who appeared to be a maid. Despite her trembling hands and legs, she strode into the room with surprising dignity and composure, approaching Bahamut where he sat in his chair. Feigning calm and leisure as best she could, she arduously settled into the seat facing him and met his gaze.
"You... are that Dragon God, aren't you?"
Young. So very young. If this were just Anna's personal recommendation, I wouldn't need to take it seriously. But coming through America...
She addressed Bahamut with the most dignified voice she could muster, but everyone in the room could hear the tremor in it. It was the earnest effort of a little girl imitating an adult—endearingly cute, in a way.
But Anna, the American operative, brought her here. There must be something more to it.
Bahamut figured there had to be something special about her, given Anna's involvement. In this apocalypse, age meant little to awakeners. Yu-na herself wasn't even an adult yet she led a major faction, and the even younger Baek Seol-hwa served as admiral of the navy. From Bahamut's vantage, dismissing her outright for youth simply wasn't an option.
The issue is... she lacks that telltale awakener aura. Far too likely she's unawakened.
Bahamut's senses screamed that the girl before him wasn't an awakener. He couldn't shake the conviction that she was just an ordinary human—and if she were an awakener fooling even him, that would make her extraordinary in its own right.
Bahamut stole a glance at Anna, noted her expression, and let a faint smile cross his lips. He'd reassure the girl.
"Indeed. Folk call me the Dragon God Bahamut. Though, truth be told, I ne'er sought the title myself. Somehow... it came to pass."
He affirmed it plainly, as she'd asked: he was the Dragon God Bahamut. The wry smile and disclaimer were his subtle rebellion—he'd never aspired to godhood, yet here he was, treated as such, with reality bending to match. It left him inwardly uneasy.
"What matters to me is one thing alone: art thou the Dragon God Bahamut, or art thou not? If thou art that famed Dragon God... canst thou grant my wish?"
"Hmm?"
But such nuances meant nothing to the girl. All that concerned her was whether the man before her was truly the legendary Dragon God—and if so, whether he could fulfill her wish, as the rumors claimed.
Bahamut's face betrayed his perplexity at the abrupt mention of a wish.
"A wish, sayest thou? Dost that mean thou hast a desire thou seekest to achieve through Lord Bahamut?"
Choi Yu-na reacted far more vehemently. After all, she herself—a mere healer—had met Bahamut, contracted with him, and seized the chance to realize her heart's deepest longing. To her, this girl was...
A prime candidate for a new junior priestess...! And the perfect opportunity to spread the cult overseas!
Yes, the golden chance to propagate the Balhut Cult abroad. As a government, the cult was booming, but its religious reach remained stagnant. Yu-na burned to preach its doctrines overseas—and now, before she could even launch the effort, someone was volunteering to become a Dragon Priestess for Bahamut?
A true devotee!
Yu-na felt her perseverance finally rewarded, tears of emotion nearly welling unbidden.
Well, her motives were likely far from what Yu-na imagined, but if that's how she saw it... fine, run with it.
"Who art thou?"
"I am Choi Yu-na, contractor of Lord Bahamut and Dragon Priestess. First, declare thine identity. This is the Dragon God's sacred presence. Show respect."
No need to invoke the 'royal presence.'
Yet duty was duty, and even a darling potential junior wasn't worth yielding protocol. As Dragon Priestess, Choi Yu-na declared herself boldly, proclaimed the space Bahamut's holy domain, and demanded decorum.
"Ugh."
The girl ducked her head, somewhat cowed, fidgeting with her fingers as she murmured in a tiny voice.
"...It seems I was too hasty. I apologize to you all."
She apologized so readily!?
Bahamut hadn't thought an apology necessary, but the girl evidently believed her pleading too rude. She choked up mid-introduction, realized her disheveled state, and drew a deep breath to steady herself. Clutching her trembling hands, she steeled her expression and pressed on.
"I am... the queen of this realm."
"The queen? Ah, I've heard tell. The new queen who ascended after the apocalypse. Surely her name was..."
"Alicia. Alicia Elizabeth Diana. Before my ascension, I was Her Highness Princess Alicia of Wales."
The girl before Bahamut was none other than England's newly crowned queen amid the apocalypse—the sovereign of this land.
"Eh? Uh? The... queen of this country!? She's too young!?"
Choi Yu-na gaped in shock; she'd never imagined a head of state younger than herself. In her mind, queens were wizened old grandmothers with snowy hair. The late queen's seventy-year reign had cemented that image for most. Yu-na had assumed the successor near her age or fully adult—anything but younger.
Though... that's rich coming from Yu-na.
Of course, Yu-na was hardly one to talk, leading her faction while still underage herself.
Still, a monarch seeking a private audience? Intriguing.
"A greater guest than I expected. Doth the queen of this realm sneak to a foreign delegation unannounced?"
"Secret meetings are ill deeds, are they not? Yet in this apocalypse, 'tis scarce the hour to parse right from wrong."
Well said! No fault in that!
Queen Alicia acknowledged the impropriety but drew a firm line: the end times brooked no such pedantry. Young as she was, she evinced a stateswoman's poise. Bahamut realized this child was no pushover—still green in spots, but a queen worthy of the crown.
"Haha, true enough. That aside..."
But...
"Thou art younger than I reckoned. I fancied 'young queen' meant nigh Yu-na's years or full grown... Ah, but at such tender age, the Protector's regency claim rings all too plausible."
Too young, indeed? Bahamut admitted his assumption—at least Yu-na's age or adult—and grasped the Protector's rationale. A girl barely past ten inspired no awe, no matter her regal bearing; the masses would not be swayed.
"Not even an awakener, no less."
"Thou knew."
"It slipped."
In an apocalypse where awakening was deemed vital for survival, her lack thereof was a glaring political vulnerability.
"Until I reach majority, had the Protector not eyed the throne... his pretext might have stood unassailable."
The queen's face darkened as she conceded the point: absent his ambition, the Protector's case flawless. In other words, his avowal of regency rang hollow precisely because he coveted the crown—making him her direst foe.
"In these joyless times, futures dim... yet thou, ascended to the throne, canst not yield lightly, aye?"
"Nay. I cannot yield lightly. My very life hangs in the balance..."
Pre-apocalypse, the Protector's moves neared high treason—punishable by life imprisonment or death. The girl who'd inherited the crown could scarce overlook such perfidy. One misstep, and his blade might claim her head. His death, or her royal house's—only one outcome awaited.
"Word hath it thy royal house boasts history, authority. The people's loyalty, too. Dost thou still fear the Protector seizeth the throne?"
"He hath already done what we deemed impossible. I can trust him no longer."
Spot on! Precisely!
He'd brazenly proclaimed the unthinkable—a usurpation folk believed beyond him. For a queen, trusting the usurper bordered on folly. And in this equal-opportunity apocalypse, pinning royal failings on this child...
Overly harsh, no?
Sympathy welled unbidden. Bahamut now understood the public backlash to the Protector's declaration. If even an outsider like him pitied her, how must London's citizens have recoiled in horror?
"Then... thou camest to me for survival's sake?"
"Aye. Rumors say thou grantest wishes for a price unknown to me. If it be possible e'en now..."
Alicia gazed at Bahamut, unease etching her features.
"...wilt thou grant my wish?"
Bahamut surveyed the room. For a queen, Alicia cut a pitiful figure. Her words rang resolute, yet her quivering frame bespoke coercion into the unfamiliar.
"A vexing matter."
Exceedingly so. Already buffeted by Yu-na and Seol-hwa's whims, another contract? And not on the Korean Peninsula where he dwelt, but distant London? Utterly unforeseen from his view.
"Ugh."
"Yet... the contract itself is feasible."
"Eh?"
Bahamut betrayed interest in this pact. Troublesome, aye—but passing on a queen? Too tantalizing to forgo.