The Blade Queen's Outing - 1

Even after the tyrants departed, time kept flowing.

Just as it did today.

The king's husband.

In the language of historical dramas, something like a queen consort, perhaps.

The king's true companion. A companion who held not only substance, but title as well.

At a glance the difference seemed slight — yet Albert, the man himself, had come to realize how large it truly was.

First, the chaotic matter of address had been settled.

The vague omissions, the scattershot titles like "elder" and whatever else people had been inventing — all of it had been unified under Royal Consort, or Lord Consort.

They had held a proper ceremony and proclaimed it across the continent. It could hardly have been otherwise.

Second was the seat prepared beside the throne.

In the great hall, a place had been arranged next to the throne so that Albert might sit.

It was a symbol of standing — proof that he was now qualified to breathe upon the affairs of state.

"Begin."

He hardened his expression as he watched Beatrix issue the command from the throne.

This was no warm gathering. Managing his face was mandatory.

If Beatrix had been the type to soften the mood, it might have been different.

Even if I hold the initiative, I can't swagger too much in a place like this.

Beatrix was, without question, the king of the realm.

Even if he possessed her, preening in a setting like this could chip away at her dignity.

Something Albert preferred to avoid.

So he sat quietly beside the black-haired tyrant and lent his ear to the voices of the high officials.

With so many threads of conversation crossing at once, he sometimes found it dizzying, hard to follow.

Strange.

He occupied the same place as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before, and yet the feeling was utterly different.

All that had changed was whether he stood or sat.

"Continue."

At the black-haired queen's command, a woman in a black uniform opened her mouth.

Mia Glaze.

The one who wielded military authority in Beatrix's stead.

"Yes. The rate of men being abducted in the outer regions is rising. The local lords have been giving chase, but progress remains incomplete."

"How incompetent."

"It does not appear to be a mere band of thieves. There may be some exaggeration involved, but rumors of their elusiveness are rampant."

Tap, tap. Beatrix's long white fingers drummed soundlessly against the armrest of the throne.

"Magic?"

"That is my assessment."

"Have they reached out?"

"They say they suspected magic as well and requested aid, but as Your Majesty well knows…"

Mia let the sentence trail off and flicked a glance aside.

Beatrix clicked her tongue and sighed.

"Couldn't prepare bait, I take it. So what did they say?"

"Yes. Regrettably, they reported the matter beyond their means and requested that the central army be dispatched."

"At least they didn't drag their feet."

Incompetence driving a plea for central help.

One might have expected Beatrix to scowl.

Instead, she looked favorably on those who asked.

She hated nothing more than people who, for pride alone, let a problem fester until the damage grew worse.

"What's your take?"

"To keep the bandits from ranging even more freely, I believe we must deploy. A thousand should be sufficient."

"A thousand. Their numbers will be growing as well — will that be enough?"

"We have not ascertained the exact count, but I judge it adequate."

"Truly?"

A cold voice. Eyes utterly without interest.

Mia met the queen's gaze as the question came again and chewed on her own tension.

A bead of cold sweat slid down her spine.

Dig in her heels — or admit the shortfall honestly?

Mia hesitated at the fork, then—

"I apologize."

—lowered her head and confessed the lack.

The bandits were presumed to handle magic, but nothing extraordinary.

You could not send a large central force just to bag a single pack of thieves.

A number a little larger than the territorial troops the local nobles had already fielded would be enough.

Beatrix saw clean through it — that Mia's complacency and pride were steering her toward the wrong call.

That was why she had kept asking.

Had Mia failed to seize even this chance, her head would have left her shoulders.

The queen was silent a moment, then slowly parted her lips.

"Charlotte."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

At the summons, Charlotte in her pure white uniform stepped up beside Mia.

Black and white.

The stark contrast was rather pleasing to the eye.

"For the time being, handle state affairs with yourself and the ministers at the center."

"Pardon? Surely… Your Majesty means to go in person?!"

Charlotte's eyes went round with shock.

The queen herself, over a mere band of thieves?

The other ministers gathered in the great hall were no less stunned — but Beatrix did not waver.

She had already judged that going herself was the most efficient, most certain path.

"You set an example by crushing them utterly. But send a large army and you waste money for nothing."

"Your words are wise, but… even so, for Your Majesty to go personally? The treasury is ample — move the army. If you should find yourself in danger…"

"A few knights will do."

A nation's king could not move without an escort.

Beatrix declared she would take knights as her guard.

In truth she meant to use them as servants — but no one present knew that.

"…I shall follow Your Majesty's will."

Beatrix's resolve was too solid to break.

Sensing it, Charlotte bowed her head with a look of lingering unease.

The other ministers did the same.

None of them had the spine to stake their lives on stopping the tyrant's outing.

Besides, the very notion that they should worry was absurd in its own right.

Right. Who's worrying about whom…

A ruler who would not so much as blink facing a great army alone.

When the ministers bowed in obedience, Beatrix rose from her seat.

"We leave today, so prepare. Mia — pick about ten knights and bring them to the lobby. Have them pack as well. Charlotte, money for use ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on site, and…"

Impressive.

Albert marveled anew at instructions stripped of every scrap of waste.

Even after he followed Beatrix back to their chambers, the aftertaste of it would not fade.

"Albert."

"Yes. I'll come with you."

While the maids hurried to pack, Beatrix and Albert traded light conversation.

Where the needle goes, the thread must follow.

He had already guessed that if Beatrix went, he would have to move as well.

Being left alone in a palace without her held no appeal either.

"Are you sure? If it's a bother, you can stay. This isn't an emergency."

If the king could not perform her duties, the next power in line — namely Albert — would have to act in her stead.

But clearing out a band of thieves was not that urgent a crisis.

There was no need to behave as though emergency protocols applied.

Of course, if the one holding the center vanished even temporarily, some noise would rise — but what of it?

If Beatrix meant to go, he had no choice but to follow.

Someone would argue that the king and the Royal Consort should not both throw themselves into the field.

If anything went wrong, chaos would follow.

But Albert knew perfectly well this was no more dangerous than a pleasure trip.

"I'm more comfortable by your side, Beatrix."

It would have felt wrong to sit around while she went herself.

Grateful that he wanted to come, Beatrix pulled him into a tight embrace right where she stood.

Albert's head sank into the soft valley of her chest.

If she'd had her way, she would have stripped nothing and fucked him then and there.

If the palace hadn't been noisy in every direction, she would have done exactly that.

We'll do it in the carriage.

Lay magic through ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the carriage, peel off their clothes, and they could enjoy themselves thoroughly.

The royal carriage was large and wide — a light disguise would be enough.

Just as Beatrix's head filled with nothing but sex, she felt Albert growing aroused as well.

He had always been the type with a strong libido.

Even past thirty he had masturbated more than twice a day, every single day.

On top of that — whether from being steeped in Beatrix, or from the rite they had performed —

he felt a lust stronger than before.

And with a body sturdy enough to back it, suppressing that hunger was no small labor.

All the more when fragrant, soft flesh pressed against his nose and skin like this.

The maids whispered in tiny voices even as their hands stayed busy.

The whispers were almost nothing — yet they reached Beatrix's ears with perfect clarity.

Fair enough.

It was outrageously lewd, and yet Beatrix felt only proud.

These were not curses. They were praise thick with envy and desire.

I want him to squeeze me hard, just once.

Bend Beatrix face-down on the bed, cover her from above, and milk her breasts.

Just as Albert's eyes grew hazy with lust and breeding instinct—

"Your Majesty. Preparations are complete."

One of the maids bowed her head and reported that everything was ready.

"Ah…"

When Albert forced himself free of her arms, a soft moan of regret slipped from Beatrix's lips.

Her eyes, too, were full of that ache of loss.

If only it weren't for work.

Beatrix shook the regret off and carefully composed her face.

"The carriage?"

"Prepared at the main gate. As instructed, it has been disguised to look plain."

"Got it. Let's go."

"Yes."

Beatrix and Albert led the way; the maids with the luggage followed behind.

They walked until they reached the palace main gate, and the bag-laden maids bustled toward the carriage.

In front of it, women in leather armor with swords at their hips stood in a single rank.

Beside them, healthy horses waited quietly in place.

Ten.

Exactly the number Beatrix had named.

"I'm going to the Corondo Barony. That's why you're here."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The knights answered as one.

Their voices were solid without being loud, carrying a quiet dignity.

"To the barony… how many days?"

When Beatrix asked as if she didn't know, the nearest knight answered.

"Traveling by carriage and horse, we expect roughly four days."

"Right. About four. We'll be moving hard, so keep that in mind."

"Yes. We will ensure not a single hair on Your Majesty's or the Royal Consort's heads comes to harm."

Beatrix nodded without a word and climbed into the carriage.

Albert followed a beat later. Seeing the knights still standing in place, he gave a light bow of his head.

"I leave it in your hands."

After wrestling with what to say, he settled on a safe greeting and boarded.

The knights stared blankly at the carriage, then mounted their horses one after another.

All but the two who would drive the baggage wagon loaded with camping gear and supplies.

"You'd think becoming Royal Consort would make a man full of himself… but he's still so humble."

One knight muttered in surprise, and the one beside her chimed in.

"I know. And cute, too."

"But is it really true? They say the Royal Consort's… thing is that big…"

Ordinarily, filthy talk about one's superiors was strictly forbidden.

The decurion leading the ten thought so as well and was about to speak — but then she recalled Albert and Beatrix's merciful policy, and only moved her lips.

Get caught and it was death — but gossip, by nature, happened where the subjects weren't present.

So long as they were careful, there was no chance of being found out.

Hyah! The carriage started forward, and the knights, with the decurion at their head, rode after it.

Even as the horses trotted at an easy pace, talk of Albert's member showed no sign of ending.

"Come on. How could a man's thing be that big? Even a large one is only about yea much."

One knight with relatively more experience of men snorted and laughed.

She marked off a length with her fingers — far short of Albert's manhood.

Still, the size she described was admittedly a touch larger than average.

The decurion pretended not to care, eyes fixed ahead, but her ears were pricked.

As a knight herself, she was fairly used to rough talk.

"I heard this from a maid — Her Majesty was making beast-like noises, saying her womb was getting crushed!"

"Womb? Come on. How long would it have to be to crush a womb? And the girth?"

"True, but Her Majesty wouldn't lie for no reason. Especially in the middle of bed."

Anyone who worked in the palace could not help but know the queen and Royal Consort's bedroom affairs.

How vulgar and animal those sounds were — there were even maids who had gotten pregnant and taken leave over it.

Naturally the fathers were some among the servants who worked in the palace.

"Talk all you like, but don't let your guard down too much!"

"Yes!"

When the dirty talk showed signs of overheating, the decurion glanced back and spoke up.

The knights immediately hardened their faces as if nothing had happened and answered in a clear shout.

Soon the procession ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of carriage and horses passed out through the capital's gates.