172. European Union Conference (2)
One problem here would undoubtedly be Alicia's official status. Alicia was the queen of a nation... the Queen of the UK, once called the British Empire. For such a head of state to participate directly in the European Union conference would inevitably raise issues with Britain's prestige, protocol, and more.
"We have received permission from the British political establishment."
"Eh? Really? This easily...?"
Is this really no problem?
...or so they thought, but reality proved far simpler. Parliament and the cabinet granted permission without a hitch. Alicia, informed by her maid, and even Bahamut wore expressions of sheer bewilderment at the news that the British establishment had truly approved.
No matter how much they treated her as a puppet queen, she was still the UK's head of state. No one had expected such swift approval. They had anticipated additional negotiations for her attendance, or at least some objections raised.
"This is just my guess."
"Go ahead and tell me."
"Her Majesty the Queen is now just one player among many in the British political scene. They must have judged it difficult to call her a head of state representing the nation..."
The maid speculated that Parliament and the cabinet viewed Alicia as a legitimate player in their midst, not as Britain's representative. In the pre-apocalypse world, they would have scrutinized every detail, debated endlessly, and only then granted permission. But without any such process, immediately approving the queen's proposal meant she was merely one player affiliated with the British establishment—not a head of state representing the UK.
Alicia, the Queen of the UK, accepted this logic not with anger, but with resignation.
"So, that means the real head of state they recognize isn't me, but the Protector."
"Yes. After all, the Protector is acting in Your Majesty's stead. Even if we argue that an Awakener's power has nothing to do with age, the establishment won't buy it."
"The age issue, huh... Hmm."
There's logic to saying age doesn't matter for Awakeners, but politics is a big sticking point. Can't argue with that.
Alicia couldn't complain much about that assessment. She was an Awakener and a Dragon Priestess contracted with the Dragon God Bahamut, but she was still a minor under protection—barely past ten years old. Few would respect a girl that age as a politician, and realistically, with her ascending the throne so young, a regent was needed to handle affairs until adulthood.
Looking on the bright side, the fact that they even considered her opinion showed they recognized her as a player in the British scene.
In other words, they see the queen as just one of the warlords carving out a place in the UK?
"Yes. The bid for the throne failed, but the Protector can't be the only usurper. Another standout hero could emerge anytime."
On the darker side, it meant the queen was just another warlord, not someone to be respected.
"Is my throne some honey-coated seat? What the hell!?"
Well, not entirely wrong.
Alicia sighed at the words, but emperor delusions existed everywhere. Especially with the myriad titles and prestige tied to the British crown, countless opportunists eyed it amid the apocalypse. The Protector was the prime example, but within the establishment, some plotted to usurp her throne directly—or even covet the spot as her consort.
The first makes sense. The second... have they no shame left?
Bahamut grimaced bitterly. Politicians in their forties or fifties lusting after a child queen not even of marrying age? Perverts.
Still, every man dreamed once of kingly treatment, and usurpers gunning for the throne were a tale as old as time. Coldly speaking, if someone wanted the crown fast, marrying Alicia was the quickest path—becoming her consort meant claiming the real king's seat.
"Even in the cabinet, politicians covet the Protector's position."
"What's the Protector's game? Why are there so many damn usurpers in our country!?"
Some even aspired to the Protector's role itself. Alicia stared blankly at her maid amid the UK's unexpectedly chaotic politics, but it was the truth. The apocalypse had shattered Britain's order rapidly, and the Protector's failed coup had shattered it further. No quick recovery was possible. Old elites and new upstarts churned in constant upheaval; such turmoil wouldn't resolve overnight.
"The British establishment has fallen under the apocalypse's sway too. But since Your Majesty can attend the European conference, it's not all bad."
"Well... true."
In the end, it all stemmed from the apocalypse's brutality. This wasn't unique to Britain—similar issues plagued every nation. Even on the Korean Peninsula where Bahamut resided, usurpations were commonplace. By apocalyptic standards, nothing unusual.
"But how do we normalize this country?"
"I don't know."
As queen, Alicia now bore the duty to resolve it, yet she lamented not knowing how. From her view, it was utterly daunting. If most of the establishment were budding usurpers, she'd need something alluring to satisfy them and deter challenges... but Alicia lacked such appeal.
"Argh, whatever! Let's attend the conference first and think later!"
"I'll assist with preparations."
Sighing in helpless frustration, Alicia prepared to depart for Paris. With her maid's help, she selected attire while...
"And for escorts... request from the Guard."
"N-No need for anything so grand. I'll wear armor as usual."
"Then we'll minimize the detail."
For minimal protocol, they selected handsome, capable guards from the Guard. Alicia insisted Bahamut's national treasure-grade armor made extra protection unnecessary, so escorts were kept to a bare minimum.
One issue, though...
"Selected by Her Majesty? Haha, what an honor!"
"S-So jealous!"
"Me too! Pick me!"
Many vied for the honor of escorting the queen to the European Union conference. Competition arose amid eager volunteers, but this anecdote showcased how thoroughly Alicia commanded the Guard—a good problem indeed.
"Better turnout than expected. Nice."
"After Lord Bahamut's summoning, the Guard's loyalty to Her Majesty pierces the heavens."
"Hah, small wins feel great!"
Who wouldn't pledge loyalty after witnessing that spectacle? Bahamut's descent had stirred awe and shivers, igniting the Guard's fervent devotion, which blossomed into adoration for the queen. With solid backing from her forces, Alicia smiled brightly, her mood lifted.
"Ugh... how should I dress?"
Next came attire befitting a queen's dignity at the conference.
"The current trend is stylish Awakener armor. Why not follow it?"
"Meaning..."
"You can legally wear the national treasure-grade armor bestowed by Lord Bahamut."
Thanks to trends set by the Protector and Orleans Saintess—key European figures—most attendees favored flashy Awakener armor or protective gear over suits.
"What? In this era? Not the Middle Ages... Wait."
Alicia first balked at armor over suits, questioning where common sense had gone. But she soon grasped the reason.
"Assassinations happen often, right? Protective gear is trending for safety?"
"Yes. They occur occasionally."
"What kind of demonic hellscape is Paris!?"
Assassinations plagued the European Union conference. Sneaky political hits or mobster hits were routine. Alicia yelped in fear, but...
"Wait, doesn't that mean I can legally wear Lord Bahamut's armor? This is great!"
It meant legal protection via national treasure-grade armor. In other words...
"I can legally defend against the Protector's assassination attempts!"
A safeguard against her rival's potential strikes. Purely in terms of splendor, the armor outshone her dresses or formal wear—adorned with mystical metals that drew eyes irresistibly. It would serve perfectly as conference finery.
"Alright, let's head out!"
With preparations complete and hope in her heart, Alicia set off for Paris and the European Union conference. But...
"Keh."
"He actually came."
Attending meant frequent face-time with the loathsome Protector. He prioritized Paris ties, often leaving London to expand influence at these conferences.
"Why are you here, Protector?"
"Foolish question. To safeguard Europe, mustn't I align with the Orleans Saintess in its heart, Paris?"
"Keh. You say that so smoothly. Do you really intend to protect anything?"
For that, the Protector himself needed to be in Paris. Upon arrival, Alicia faced him at the UK's assigned seat.
She scowled openly, demanding why he was there. He dismissed her with a line about safeguarding Europe.
She shot back snidely, questioning his sincerity.
"A foolish query. Without Europe's ruler, even a leader like me loses meaning."
"Annoying bastard."
Right—if Europe he aimed to rule crumbled, so would he. Thus, the Protector brimmed with patriotic zeal to defend it.
"And why are you at the European conference?"
He countered coldly, displeased by her presence.
"A mere doll who could've quietly handed over the throne."
To him, Alicia was just a throne-keeper puppet. Though she'd Awakened as a Dragon Priestess—now beyond dismissal—he still saw her as such.
"You're the fool who lost to that doll, Protector."
She retorted by equating herself and him to "that doll," then...
"Or should I say... rebel scum worse than Cromwell?"
Invoking the UK's infamous usurper, she flashed a venomous smile.