Long Live Her Majesty the Queen (3)
Owen was just as curious about the queen's summons as anyone else.
It probably wasn't about his title.
That had already been settled amicably with the Surpuk Duke.
So what could it be? Then the queen dropped a bombshell that made eyes widen all around.
"After the banquet ends, could you come see me alone?"
The impact of her words was tremendous.
The entire banquet hall froze in an instant.
Even the musicians, understanding her fluent common tongue, stopped playing their instruments.
By the time the banquet wrapped up, it would be deep into the night.
For a peerless beauty like the queen to ask a man to visit her alone—it was the kind of invitation that ignited every wild imagination.
The Bris nobles, already entranced by her beauty, could only stare with jealousy burning in their eyes.
Even the most composed among them let their true feelings show on their faces this time.
That was how stunning the queen was.
But the Surpuk Duke alone remained utterly unmoved by her allure.
Instead, a suspicion crossed his mind.
'She took a strange liking to him... Does she see that Owen brat as a man? The kid hasn't even finished growing yet.'
He tilted his head briefly.
But the thoroughly political man soon began pondering how to wield influence if he married off his subordinate to the queen.
"...Is that possible?"
The queen asked again.
This time, murmurs rippled through the hall.
Finally, someone couldn't hold back and asked a nearby dark elf they'd been chatting with.
"Forgive my impertinent question, but... are the royal consorts of your kingdom truly so free in their private lives?"
There was a reason for the query.
The dark elf grand matrons' lavish histories with men were infamous even in the Empire.
At the pinnacle of their matriarchal society, the grand matrons changed lovers every night as they pleased.
It was such a well-known tale that even those ignorant of dark elf society had heard it—which was why the noble couldn't resist asking.
His tone was cautious, but the dark elf's eyes flashed with fury.
"Watch your tongue!"
His outburst was so loud that the entire hall fell silent, all eyes turning to him.
Ignoring the stares from every direction, he vented his rage.
"Her Majesty is the supreme sovereign of our nation, and no man has ever entered her chambers. There has never been one worthy in the past, nor will there be in the future!"
The irate speaker was Orkeus, steward of the Shadow Bat Family.
In truth, it wasn't just Orkeus—all dark elf men revered the queen as an object of worship, making this an offensive question.
Unlike the grand matrons of each family, the queen had never taken a lover close to her.
She had devoted herself solely to rule, which starkly contrasted with the matrons and earned her the dark elf men's adoration.
Of course, she hadn't intended it that way.
Her life had simply twisted in various unfortunate directions.
"I-I apologize. My loose tongue has committed a grave error."
Even as the questioning noble apologized, Orkeus's anger didn't subside, forcing the queen to intervene.
"Steward. It's good that you stand up for me, but anything beyond that is rude. Restrain yourself."
"I shall remember, Your Majesty."
The queen then addressed the assembly to clear the air.
"I apologize for any misunderstanding. I simply have a private matter to discuss with Sir Leire. Now, let me propose a toast—everyone, raise your glasses."
Quick on the uptake, the nobles responded with a hearty chorus.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
The misunderstanding seemed resolved on the surface, but that was all it was—surface.
The Bris nobles were lost in fantasies, pairing Owen and the queen side by side.
'No way she'd be interested in a young pup like that. Does she prefer pretty boys?'
'What's their relationship? They haven't known each other long, yet she favors him so much. There must be something there...'
Indeed, nothing about their connection seemed ordinary.
It started with the queen's letter lavishly praising Owen.
As the banquet dragged on, the nobles' imaginations swelled—mostly in indecent directions.
Owen, of course, was fully aware of the atmosphere.
He could tell exactly what the nobles staring at him with smoldering eyes were thinking.
When his gaze met the queen's, he mouthed a subtle question.
-What is it?
Why make such a public request?
She could have sent a discreet messenger if it was private.
Owen was annoyed, but the queen—for some reason—wore a rare mischievous smile before primly turning away.
'She's impossible to read.'
Owen wondered what was going through her mind.
But her promise of a private word after the banquet was no idle talk.
He was simply curious what it might be.
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Once the banquet ended, the queen retired to the lodgings prepared by the Surpuk Duke—and soon summoned Owen.
"Your Majesty, Sir Owen Leire has arrived."
Standing before the queen's tent, Owen felt an inexplicable tension.
Brasiana soon emerged to greet him.
"Her Majesty awaits."
Inside, the queen was having her jewels and armor removed with the help of her maids.
The tight-fitting leather attire typical of dark elves accentuated her voluptuous figure.
"Everyone, withdraw."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Alone in the tent, the queen spoke.
"Thank you, Owen. It's been ages since I shed this armor for simple clothes. Feels so much freer."
"No need—then why not wear something like this at the banquet?"
At the banquet, she'd only removed her helmet, keeping her armor on.
The ornaments in her hair showed she'd put some effort into her appearance.
But at his remark, the queen snapped.
"What? Have you lost your mind? Attend a banquet in this skin-tight outfit? Are you insane? Those lecherous stares were everywhere earlier."
"...But isn't that your traditional attire? Revealing, form-fitting leather."
"Quiet, you fool!"
Owen wanted to ask why she wore it so casually in front of him, exposing every curve—but he held his tongue, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he spoke.
He sensed she'd explode if he pried.
"Anyway, that's the hassle you bring on yourself, Signet."
"I know. I'm not complaining—come closer."
Flopping onto the bed, the queen pulled something out and handed it over.
It was a letter.
"What's this? A love letter for me?"
"...I'll grant that your past-life self was quite the catch. But reincarnated as a brat like now? No way. Ho ho, you can call me 'big sis' if you like, Owen."
"......"
Ignoring her, Owen unfolded the letter and immediately bit his lip.
"Damn it all!"
It was written in demonic script.
His face twisted at once.
"You recognize it?"
"Yes..."
"You've always had a knack for deciphering that foul tongue."
"Tanares taught me."
This cipher was highly secretive, known only to demons and their key allies.
Owen couldn't have cracked it alone, but with Tanares's help, he had.
"It's changed a bit since before. Hmm... not enough to stump me. But where'd you find this?"
"Kalania's lair."
"What? That traitor?"
"Yes. What's it say?"
"Hold on."
Owen scanned the contents hurriedly.
His eyes darted left and right, his expression darkening with each line.
By the end, his face flushed red as he jabbed a finger at the queen.
"You idiot! If we get wiped out here, it's on you. Can't you control even one subordinate?"
"What are you talking about?"
"First, we need the Surpuk Duke."
"What does it say?!"
"Demons are deeply involved in this mess. We're in deep trouble..."
The cipher's message was straightforward: an orc detachment was heading to the queen's current location.
The queen closed her eyes tightly upon hearing it.
"Now it's certain. Demons have been meddling throughout. They want me dethroned."
"Dethroned?"
"Yes. Why do you think the rebellion started in the first place? I've endured my illness this long."
"Did word of the curse leak?"
"Exactly. Seems the demons spread the rumor. And they orchestrated the grand matrons' revolt from the shadows."
That should have ended her.
But unexpectedly, the queen escaped, biding her time.
It was an unforeseen development.
Undeterred, the demons layered traps upon traps.
They'd coaxed Kalania into assassination, and now mobilized orcs to capture the queen and Surpuk Duke.
The timing was devilishly perfect.
Only one family followed the queen, and the duke had brought a mere handful of troops compared to what he could command.
No one had anticipated an orc raid from the east.
As the queen explained, cold sweat beaded on Owen's brow.
"Demons could pull that off. Hurry! We must consult the Surpuk Duke. If orcs are coming, they could strike anytime."
"Understood."
The queen swiftly called in Brasiana from outside and ordered her cloaked in black to meet the duke.
"I know this breaks protocol, but it's urgent—relay it as such."
She worried how the duke might react.
He was a duke, but no lesser than a queen like her.
Ruling the Empire's east, he was a king in all but name.
His domain dwarfed the entire frozen dark elf lands.
His polite "Your Majesty" was mere diplomatic courtesy.
If he took offense at her midnight summons, no one could blame him.
But the Surpuk Duke was far more bold than she expected.
At word of urgency, he rushed over without hesitation.
"Your Majesty! You summoned me?"
His adherence to etiquette remained unshaken.
Impressed inwardly, the queen apologized first.
"Duke, forgive the late hour. But this is a matter we must discuss."
The duke glanced at Owen with one eye before replying.
"I shall hear it. Speak."
The queen laid out the situation.
It was enough to startle even the duke.
"Your Majesty? Is that true? Orcs heading here?!"
"Confirmed via the traitor's letter, yes."
"But my son holds the eastern fortress line. He's rough, but he wouldn't botch—"
Owen interjected.
"Your Grace. They seem to have bypassed via the Arkein Mountains."
"What? That treacherous range? One wrong step and an army's annihilated."
The duke knew the paths well.
He'd once considered using them to strike orcs preemptively—but scrapped it due to the risks.
"Orcs are hardier than humans. There were likely sacrifices, but crossing is feasible. And demons are involved."
Owen detailed the queen's plight.
The duke's expression shifted at "demons."
He closed his eyes in silence for a moment before speaking.
"Those vile creatures are enemies to all. I suspect they schemed when Glendower fell. I can't ignore them rampaging in my lands."
Fortunately, he didn't know the dark elf queen had delivered the final blow to Owen in his past life.
Otherwise, this conversation wouldn't have happened.
"Duke, I'm mortified if this causes you losses on my account."
The duke shook his head firmly.
"Your Majesty, say not so. Demons have long plotted the Empire's fall. Even without your involvement, their schemes never cease in the east."
Past orc invasions had sometimes allowed negotiation.
Yet they always escalated to war.
The duke was convinced demons pulled the strings.
"In my view, this is fortuitous. Demons slink like shadows—hard to root out. But catching their tail now advances the east's security immensely."
"I'm grateful for that perspective, Duke."
Demons were foes to everyone by nature.
Past alliances against humans stemmed solely from Owen Glendower's uniqueness.
With him gone, dark elves had no reason to side with demons.
The duke knew it well.
He was scheming inwardly.
'Perfect timing, demons! I was pondering how to pit dark elves against orcs. Never thought I'd owe you one.'
His spoken words weren't his full thoughts.
Orcs approaching was dangerous, but also an opportunity.
'Crush them together, and the gains are huge. Word will spread to eastern plain orcs that humans fought alongside dark elves. It'll deter invasions.'
Orcs couldn't gauge how many dark elves had come east.
Naturally, they'd hesitate to attack.
There were more benefits.
'Many in the east oppose allying with dark elves. But news of us fighting together will change minds!'
That was his calculus—hence his outward support.
A shortsighted ruler would have blamed her for drawing demons in, dooming the alliance.
This alone proved the duke's exceptional caliber.
"Your Majesty! We'll commence battle preparations at once. No time to waste—not knowing when orcs arrive."
"I agree. We must also dispatch scouts in all directions to pinpoint the enemy."
The two leaders aligned seamlessly.
Then Owen unexpectedly offered a stratagem.
"I have one plan."
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