The king smiled when he heard Beatrice’s positive answer.
“So be it,” Selirius said. “Savior, this is your first Royal Quest! Kill twenty Demonlings and bring me their heads. If you do that, I might just believe you to be the hero we’ve been waiting for.”
“Demonlings?” one of the nobles asked the other as if he’d misheard.
“Twenty?” another one repeated.
“She might as well go kill herself right now,” someone else spoke amongst the present nobles.
“Combat is no place for beauties like that.”
Now I’m a beauty again? Beatrice thought and raised an eyebrow as she listened to the nobles, remembering how she was labeled a monster minutes ago. Their opinions change with the slightest breeze.
“That’s right!” Another noble agreed, emboldened by the comments of the others. “She should have stayed where she belonged—on her knees, getting plowed from behind by a rich noble!”
Many of the nobles chuckled and laughed.
How about I plow you from behind? Beatrice thought to herself, though in reality, she would not want to even breathe the same air as those men. She did however make a mental list of people that were now on her bad side.
“Indeed,” a particularly arrogant young noble jeered. “With her looks, she should put her womb to good use and produce plenty of sons for someone worthy.”
“Like you?” the arrogant young noble’s friend snickered and all the nobles laughed together.
While the nobles laughed Beatrice imagined impregnating their wives as just revenge for such comments. I’d probably even let you lot watch how your wives beg me to fill their special places with my liquids, Beatrice thought with a smile and even got a little harder due to her vivid imagination.
Beatrice then looked at the girl in the blood-red dress. I wonder if she also has to endure their comments? Who is she? Another noble? Then why is she standing apart from the others? The princess? This decrepit king produced such beauty?
Beatrice continued to stare at the girl. Her enticing cleavage. Her smooth thighs. Thanks to the fitting dress, Beatrice could imagine exactly how the girl would look naked, on her back, with her legs spread open. Who will be the lucky guy to pick this cherry? Do all the nobles imagine her on her knees, just as they imagine me? None of those scum is worthy. She… Deserves a hero…
“Thank you, Your Highness!” Lucarad spoke loudly, over the poor attempts at humor by the nobles. “To that end, I would humbly ask for you to give the order to have a badge issued to Beatrice so that she can move within your city.”
“Done,” the king said.
“And what is the reward for saving the Kingdom of Larpsus?” Beatrice boldly asked the king.
Lucarad looked back at the succubus. For a moment anger flashed across his face, but he masked it instantly with genuine surprise.
“Hoho, aren’t you putting the cart before the carriage?” the king asked Beatrice.
“I want to know what I’ll be risking my life for,” Beatrice explained with a smile.
“I see,” king stroked his messy beard. The stray gray strands refused to fall into place. “Somehow I have a feeling you’ve already decided on your reward. What is it that you desire for saving my kingdom?”
Beatrice silently pointed to the girl in the blood-red dress that stood in the shadows, a distance behind the throne. When the girl saw the succubus pointing at her, her stern demeanor broke. She was shocked and outraged.
The king looked behind him. His gaze stayed for the moment on the girl. Then he turned back, looked at Beatrice, and started to laugh hysterically.
“Oh? Bwahaha! Is that it!?” Selirius asked, laughing himself to tears. “You can have her now!”
“WHAT!?” countless nobles screamed in unison, astonished and refusing to believe what they just head.
Wait, seriously? Beatrice snapped back into focus from the sheer shock of the king’s outlandish response. I guess that’s the type of world I’m in.
“Your highness!” the bald counselor exclaimed.
“Hm?” the king looked at his counselor and stroked his beard again. “What’s the big deal? You’ve gifted plenty of women for favors to our friends, allies, and even enemies. Giving away a single one for saving the kingdom seems perfectly reasonable.”
“Those scam artists have not saved anyone yet, Your Highness!” The counselor tried to reason with his kind. “Lady Mary is a princess! Your daughter!”
“Bah, what’s the big deal?” Selirius asked and shrugged. “I’ve got more of those upstairs! Maybe this will motivate our newest hero better than the others? I wonder why I hadn’t considered such a strategy before?”
“FATHER!” The princess shouted and stormed forward to her father, trying to somehow get through to her parent. “I’m a fair maiden! I’m not going to be traded as some furniture for a favor!”
“You’ve been a fair maiden for long enough!” The king shouted back and slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne. “You’re the princess of a king! It is in your job description to have your special place traded for political favors!”
“Kh,” Mary took a step away from the throne, speechless, disgusted with her father.
“I’ve had enough meetings for today,” the king said. “Mary, you would do well to go to your room with the Savior and train in the skills of a proper woman. The Savior seems to have the necessary tool between her legs, and I’m sure she will gladly aid in your training. Will you not, Savior?”
“O-of course!” Beatrice said. “If that is what the princess desires—“
“Who cares about what the princess desires!?” Selirius shouted. “I am the king! It only matters what I desire! Here is your second Royal Quest, ‘Savior’! Teach my useless daughter how to properly please a man! Do not return to me until she can make any man unleash at least two times within ten minutes!”
Some nobles were still stunned at this development. The others chuckled. One young, heartbroken noble had a single tear roll down his face. He then glared at Beatrice, fueled with youthful rage.
“Your Highness—” the royal advisor tried to protest again.
“We will use Silas here as the benchmark,” the king gestured with his wrinkly old hand to his bald advisor. “Maybe that will stop his incessant complaining. Eh, Silas? How would you like to stick your little pecker into my eighteen-year-old daughter?”
Is he senile? Beatrice wondered. What was that black powder? Medicine? Drugs? Is he senile and on drugs?
“I-I-I—” the bald counselor stammered, unable to answer his king. He sweated buckets and had to wipe his forehead and eyes with the sleeves of his dress.
“What?” Selirius grinned menacingly. “The king’s daughter is not good enough for you?”
“Of course, not—I mean she is—I mean I would never—"
“Bwahaha, I’m just messing with you!” the king broke into laughed again and repeatedly slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne. “I rather not subject myself to such a woeful sight, hahahaha!”
So, that’s the king? Beatrice could hardly believe that this lunatic was still in power and not assassinated a long time ago.
“Lord Lucarad,” Selirius—finally calmed down somewhat—called the High Priest who took a step forward after the king called his name
“Yes, your highness?” Lucarad asked and bowed.
“Stay with me for a while,” the king said. “You always have some new bizarre stories to tell. As for the rest of you, layabouts, unless you have a good story or Black Powder to share with me, GET OUT OF MY SIGHT ALREADY!!”
“You better go with the princess,” Lucarad whispered to Beatrice. “We will meet later.”
Princess Mary threw a scornful look at the succubus and Lucarad before turning around and walking to the nearest door behind the throne room.
Beatrice and Ember hurried up the wide stairs, after the princess. The guards let them pass and then dispersed themselves, along with the advisor Silas, and the other nobles.
Only the menacing, faceless, king’s royal bodyguard remained in the throne room together with the High Priest Lucarad and king Selirius.