After finishing all the business that needed to be dealt with outside, Elvira made her way toward her own room, anticipation evident in her every step.
Though wielding supreme power as Queen sounded exhilarating, the truth was that managing a nation was far from simple. Not everything was a cause for celebration—troublesome matters were bound to arise.
Such as natural disasters and the ensuing aftermath—those kinds of irresistible events.
To put it plainly, being Queen did not guarantee perpetual happiness; vexing days were inevitable.
In the past, Elvira had always relied on brewing Magic Potions in her Magic Workshop and conducting experiments as her way to relieve stress.
But now, things were different. Simply returning to her chamber was enough to soothe her stress and leave her deeply satisfied.
In the end, one of the reasons she became the Queen of Dratnia was so she could use the power of the throne to attend to her private affairs—such as capturing a certain man who once dared to reject her.
Being Princess allowed her a measure of willfulness, but compared to being Queen, the resources at her disposal had always been somewhat lacking.
The second reason was rivalry with the Neighboring Queen. After all, after that man rejected her, he’d run off to serve as a knight under the young Queen next door—this wounded Elvira’s pride all the more.
In other words, the fact that Elvira eliminated the original First Successor and ascended the throne was, in almost every way, due to that one man.
Now that she had finally caught him, how could she not be filled with expectation?
“Hmm?”
Just as Elvira was brimming with anticipation, ready to amuse herself with Maurice, she caught sight of a familiar figure standing outside her door.
It was her most trusted Subordinate, Roselia. That reliable and amiable female Subordinate was, unusually, dressed in a maid’s uniform, standing primly at the door and bowing like an ordinary maid to her Queen.
This surprised Elvira.
Still, she didn’t break stride, confidently and gracefully walking up to Roselia and speaking first:
“Roselia, what are you doing here? You do hold the title of Head Maid, managing all palace affairs, but there’s no need for you to wait here personally, is there? Any maid could have handled this, don’t you think?”
With her trusted Subordinate, Elvira voiced her question directly, not holding anything back.
“Lady Elvira, you seem even more excited today than yesterday. I was worried you’d be too worked up tonight to sleep properly, so I came here in my capacity as Head Maid to serve and oversee your rest. Please forgive me for being a nag, but your health is more important than anything. Lack of rest is simply out of the question.”
Roselia responded with her usual humility and kindness, ever composed and gentle.
Yet, though her manner seemed modest, there was steel beneath it.
To ‘oversee’ the willful Queen—using such a word made it clear she was far from a mere subordinate.
If it had been anyone else, Elvira would have considered this overstepping, but Roselia was an exception.
Hearing Roselia’s explanation, Elvira simply smiled helplessly and shook her head.
“Roselia, you really do worry too much. As if I’d lose sleep over a man. Still, since you’re here, I may as well introduce you to him. Come, I’ll let you see that disgraceful fellow for yourself.”
With that, Elvira strode past Roselia, opening the door to her own room herself rather than having her maid do it, and walked right in.
Inside her familiar quarters, Elvira made straight for her bed. But the closer she got, the more wicked and unrestrained her smile became, and the madness in her gaze grew ever more intense.
Proof that she was in high spirits.
Just as she’d expected, Maurice was lying properly in her bed, even tucked in under the covers, as if he owned the place.
He seemed to be fast asleep—so much so that neither Elvira nor Roselia’s footsteps disturbed him in the slightest, which was hardly fitting for a captive knight.
Of course, this was all just appearance. Elvira knew better than anyone why Maurice was sleeping so soundly.
She halted at the bedside, then mocked him with a voice full of sarcasm and playful malice:
“What an adorable face, and so completely defenseless. Are you really that satisfied with my bed? Maurice, I assume you’ve gotten plenty of rest, haven’t you?”
As she spoke these humiliating words, Elvira lifted her Magic Staff and released the control over Maurice’s head.
A typical holy knight would have bolted upright, cursing her and protesting furiously.
But Maurice merely opened his eyes slowly, then turned his head as far as he could toward her voice, replying in that signature melancholy tone of his:
“Thanks to you, I didn’t get any rest at all. I admit you outplayed me in this matter. I was careless. As the Defeat, I have nothing to say—Elvira, humiliate me as much as you like until you’re satisfied.”
Unlike most captive knights, Maurice was far more composed.
He frankly acknowledged his defeat, yet still glared at Elvira, the Victory, with eyes full of resistance.
This only made Elvira’s smile even more triumphant and satisfied.
She liked this kind of reaction from Maurice best; someone who was always rational losing control was all the more worth anticipating.
In her delight, Elvira failed to notice that Maurice had said ‘in this matter.’
She simply put on a magnanimous smile and spoke in a commanding yet cheerful voice.
“Hehe~ Don’t make me out to be some evil Queen who enjoys humiliating the Defeat, all right? Tonight, I’ll make sure you get a good rest.”
“Oh, right, let me introduce you to someone. Yes, that’s right—one of the three who fought you that night. My most prized confidante. Come, Roselia, give this disgraceful knight a proper greeting.”
Because he could only turn his head while lying down, Elvira in his field of vision appeared even more imposing than yesterday.
Her regalia, symbolizing royal authority, and her selfish, wicked smile were more than just a striking appearance.
Maurice had to admit that Elvira like this could be truly intimidating.
But when Elvira beckoned, and a maid with bangs covering her eyes appeared beside her, Maurice froze.
Of course, Maurice had recognized the other person in the room by the sound of her footsteps: it was the woman who, five minutes ago, had insulted him while meticulously cleaning his wounds.
What surprised him was that her demeanor and expression were utterly unlike what he’d imagined.
She was not some sullen, antisocial woman with a perpetually sour face; rather, she was a beautiful woman with a gentle smile, like the very Team Conscience itself.
“Nice to meet you, Lord Maurice. I am Roselia, one of Lady Elvira’s Subordinates. Please take care of me from now on.”
It was as if she’d switched personalities. After introducing herself, Roselia smiled at Maurice with warmth and kindness.
Split Personality?! No, that’s not it! Is she just acting?
But Maurice, no stranger to deception himself, quickly grasped the truth.
This seemingly gentle, soft-spoken Head Maid was without a doubt a top-tier green tea!
And, as her master, Elvira didn’t even realize it!