“Ugh, damn it... I can’t see well from this angle. Just a little more to the side and I might be able to see....”
Something was sticking out from the thick fabric of the tent.
Wiggle.
It was a butt sticking way out. Of course, it wasn’t just a butt—if you looked closely, there were legs, arms, and even a face.
The culprit was Aslan of Orléans, Elga’s cousin. Also known by another name: dumbass.
Poke.
After lifting her head from the tent, she repositioned herself and poked another hole in the canvas with her finger. Then, bringing her eye to it, she resumed peeping inside.
Aslan kept silently peering into the tent for a good while.
Then she muttered softly to herself.
“What’s he doing now? Ugh, just push her down already. What kind of man doesn’t make a move when they’re finally alone together? No wonder he’s doomed to live his life on a leash. Pathetic.”
Click click.
Aslan clucked her tongue, and Elga smacked her on the butt with her palm.
Smack!
“Kyah! What the hell was that for, idiot?!”
“What do you think you’re doing? Spying on someone else’s tent like that? If you get caught, even your prestigious family name won’t save you.”
Aslan grimaced, rubbing her butt.
“But aren’t you curious? They’re alone in there, the queen and her new husband. Don’t you wanna know what they’re doing? They’re newlyweds. It’s only proper to sneak a peek on the first night.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—” Elga started to say, but then shut her mouth.
Come to think of it, didn’t they have a tradition like that in Aslan’s hometown, Orléans? Where unmarried girls peeked at a couple’s first night together?
They believed it brought blessings and good fertility to the couple, and supposedly the maidens could also catch some of the couple’s “love fortune” for a good match of their own.
Of course, Aslan probably wasn’t doing this for any superstitious reason. In the Lioness family’s homeland of Borja, they had a saying: “Curiosity killed the cat.”
Aslan was exactly that kind of cat.
“Oh ho~ what’s this? What are they doing now? Why’s he putting his fingers on her lips? Hmm, kinda kinky. I might be into this kind of thing.”
And thanks to that, Elga unintentionally learned what was going on inside the tent. Fingers on lips? The moment she imagined the scene, she shook her head violently.
“Hey! What are you calmly peeping like that for? Knock it off.”
“Hmph. Like you’re not interested, Erganes. You’re here because you’re curious too, right?”
“Why are you dragging me into this?!”
“If you weren’t curious, you could’ve just walked off somewhere. Or maybe... maybe you’re secretly bothered by the fact that your man is in there with another woman?”
“What? What man?”
Aslan’s counterattack hit Elga harder than she expected.
This was the same cousin who had always flared up with rivalry during family gatherings as kids. But she’d never once landed a solid hit on Elga—until now.
Whether it was intentional or not, that one landed deep.
Elga pretended to be unfazed and deflected.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb. Everyone in the western noble families already knows you and that Teo Gospel are a thing.”
“No way. Really?”
“A long tail always gets caught eventually, Erganes. And you’ve never been good at hiding or lying—same as always.”
“......”
At Aslan’s words, Elga’s brow furrowed slightly.
So the rumors were already out. She’d always been careful to meet him only in secluded spots and not show anything in public—but like Aslan said, a long tail eventually gets caught.
Aslan kept going.
“At first, I thought it was a joke. That rascal Teo Gospel—he’s exactly the type of guy you hate the most. Weak, delicate, pathetic. But if he’s the heir of Angmar... that changes things.”
“......”
“Thinking of it that way, he’s kinda cute. Talented, too. If he weren’t already staked out by others, I might’ve snatched him up myself...? Well, maybe it wouldn’t matter. As long as I get the seed...”
The women of the western Lioness family—whether main or branch—tend to be open about romantic and sexual matters. Maybe it’s because their family history was shaped by complicated, polygamous political marriages.
“He’s strong enough to beat the queen in a duel. And magic is most influenced by bloodline, right? Bet he’d make some amazing babies. Maybe the kind that could unify the entire continent...”
But Elga was seriously pissed off now. So she grabbed Aslan’s butt and yanked it hard, grumbling as she did.
“What the hell are you even saying? Taking the seed without love? You make him sound like some kind of breeding tool.”
“Erganes, don’t be ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ dumb. Why else do people get married? It’s to make babies. You marry a great man to have even greater kids! Love is secondary. Isn’t that why you got with that boyish-looking guy?”
Blunt and forceful—that was the hallmark of western women.
Elga herself used to think the same way a few years ago. But living in the capital and traveling around had changed her.
She realized that, perhaps, she had changed.
“I don’t think like that anymore. I didn’t even know he was from Angmar. When I started liking him, he didn’t have any magic talent and was weak as hell. That didn’t matter to me. I just... liked him.”
Saying it out loud, she suddenly felt embarrassed.
But trying to play it off, Aslan just whistled in admiration.
“Wow. You’re saying some seriously embarrassing shit right now.”
After a short silence, Aslan stretched long and yawned.
“Welp, I’m over it.”
She got up and casually walked off, her silhouette disappearing into the torchlight’s shadow. Just before vanishing completely, she turned and added one last thing.
“Erganes, you’ve changed. But I like you better this way. Maybe we could actually be friends now.”
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