Chapter 843 — Another Batch of Guests

Pea was a very lively little girl.

What was more, she possessed a skill that let her babble on without pause even while drinking and eating—a skill that surely owed itself to that strange arcane device of hers known as "Nervebramble."

The banquet wore on, but Asharena had little interest in following the "diplomatic progress" on Sir Golosh's side. Relying on the eloquence and warmth she had honed during her wandering years, she had in very little time become friends with this little girl called Pea. The two of them had hidden themselves in an inconspicuous corner, sampling Cecil's distinctive delicacies—and Pea, her mouth stuffed full, was talking without a moment's pause.

"...My dad's normally ever so busy, but last winter he finally managed to take a long holiday—and even then he spent half of every day wandering about outside. If he wasn't off drinking with someone, he was off watching ball games. I've told him off loads of times and he never listens. Do you know ball games? His Majesty invented them, you know. I'm not interested, but all the boys love them... Mum? Oh, I was adopted by Dad. I can't even remember what my real mother looked like anymore...

"His current one? He doesn't have one now. Dad's never been married, but he's always saying that when he was young he had ever so many close lady friends... I reckon he's bragging, because I've never met a single one... Huh? You don't think so? Why not?"

Pea had been chattering away with great relish, but now a flicker of puzzlement surfaced: "Oh, that's right—Sister, why are you so interested in my dad's business anyway?"

At last Asharena found a chance to speak. She smiled. "I know your father, little one."

Pea's mouth was crammed with cake, and her eyes went wide as saucers; a strange gurgling, grunting noise came through the voice device.

"I met him twenty years ago. Back then he was still a mercenary captain," Asharena said with a smile. The more she saw of this little girl called Pea, the more delightful she found her—even the expression of shock, of nearly choking on her food, was thoroughly amusing. "Little one, your father wasn't bragging—at least when he was young, he never lacked for women around him."

Pea struggled to swallow the food in her mouth, while a skeptical voice issued from the voice device: "...Really?"

"Of course it's true," Asharena said, fetching a cup of water from the side and handing it to Pea. "You can ask him yourself when you get back."

Pea blinked, her expression astonished and peculiar at once, and only after a long while did she manage to piece together something articulate: "...Then I shouldn't be calling you Sister. Auntie."

The motion of Asharena handing over the cup froze midair.

In that instant, she was one hundred percent certain: this little girl called Pea had indeed been raised by Byron.

...

Sir Golosh and the Great Emperor Gaoyang Cecil held a cordial conversation, but it did not go deep.

As a banquet of first contact, this was not the occasion for profound discussions of state affairs; and two people from utterly different social environments—different even in race—needed time, upon first meeting, to slowly attune themselves to each other's rhythms. They spoke at random of the customs and manners of their respective nations, then touched upon their hopes for peace in the future; after which Gaoyang took his leave for the time being, leaving the hours to Sir Golosh—and to the advisors and attendants he had brought with him.

A few minutes later, Sir Golosh finally located the Dragonmarked Witch, who had been drifting about the great hall. He strode quickly toward her: "Lady Asharena, I've been looking for you—where did you go... Lady Asharena? You don't look at all well?"

Hearing Sir Golosh's voice, Asharena finally startled out of her somewhat dazed state. She hurriedly shook her head, then tapped her temple with one finger and muttered, almost to herself: "I'm fine, I'm fine... Ah—Sir Golosh, what did you speak of with His Majesty Gaoyang?"

"Only pleasantries and introductions to our own nation," Golosh said offhandedly. "His Majesty Gaoyang is a forthright and learned man; conversation with him is a pleasure... Lady Asharena, are you quite sure you're all right? Your face looks as though you've eaten an entire basin of spoiled pickled peas..."

"...Sir Golosh."

Sir Golosh was startled by Asharena's dark expression. "What is it?"

"Those quips of yours—three whole centuries out of date—are not in the least bit funny!!"

"?"

...

Gaoyang left the banquet hall of the Autumn Palace, taking only a few attendants with him, and came to the small courtyard situated at the rear of the palace.

An arcane carriage had long been waiting there.

Gaoyang went straight over to the carriage, and the air nearby suddenly quivered and warped; Amber's figure gradually emerged from it and lightly leapt to Gaoyang's side.

"I thought you'd be at the side of those guests from the Holy Dragon Duchy the whole way through," Amber said, pulling open the carriage door while lifting her eyes to glance at Gaoyang. "They are, after all, the mysterious 'Dragonkin.'"

"Dragons are more mysterious than they are, and I've dealt with plenty of those," Gaoyang said, bending to climb into the carriage, watching Amber climb in behind him as he spoke. "Hedy and Rebecca will host the latter half of the banquet in my stead; with two members of the direct imperial line present, propriety is fully satisfied—as for me, I ought at least to do something more meaningful than reciting diplomatic platitudes at a banquet table."

"I couldn't agree more with that last sentence of yours—off we go," Amber said, raising an eyebrow with a smile. She called out to the machinist driving in front, then turned her head back to look at Gaoyang. "Another batch of 'guests' is already waiting at the North Bank Development Zone. They seem a little uneasy, but they're keeping order well enough."

"...Uneasy?" Gaoyang frowned. "It's not as though I've got them locked up."

"No, not locked up at all—you even sent priests and sisters to look after them," Amber said, rolling her eyes. "You might as well have sent the army."

Gaoyang's eye twitched despite himself.

"There's no help for it," he sighed. "That is a crowd of specialists in the field of the mind. They've declared their submission, yes, but until the observation and probation are fully over, I wouldn't dare let ordinary personnel come into contact with those people. Compared with ordinary soldiers, the White Knights and the warrior sisters—steadfast in will, trained specifically in mental fortitude, and constantly shielded by high-intensity holy light—possess extraordinary psychic resistance. Having them oversee the site was the safest arrangement I could think of."

Amber nodded helplessly. "Fair enough. I suppose so."

In the North Bank Development Zone, inside an assembly hall not yet open to the public, Yuri and a great many clerics of the Evernighters—all of them now changed into different clothing—were resting in the main hall.

Among them were the clerics who had crossed the border on the last train, and also the members of the order who had successfully slipped across earlier in two separate groups. The latter had lingered for two days in the White Sands Hills region, until the last group, led by Yuri, arrived; only then had they all boarded the arcane-energy train together today and come to Xuanyao City.

The assembly hall was fitted with a newly installed ventilation system, and the facility's management had provided ample drinking water and food. For a group of "heretics" newly arrived in a foreign land, whose identities could not yet be brought into the light, this counted as decent treatment—yet Yuri's compatriots still felt somewhat anxious and ill at ease.