After leaving Elvira’s side, Morris wandered about to kill time until around six in the evening.
According to the maid, he had best return to Elvira’s room before half past six. Otherwise, not only Morris, but the two of them as well, would be punished.
So Morris had better pay attention to the time.
Right now, Morris still hadn’t figured out the situation, so naturally, he wouldn’t go out of his way to provoke Elvira. Cooperatively, he returned directly to the room.
Seeing Morris heed the advice and go in, the two maids standing at the door both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Phew, thank goodness Lord Morris didn’t try to run away. Even though he definitely couldn’t escape back to Fastal, the two of us would be injured and then punished by Her Majesty for sure.”
The short-haired maid patted her chest, her expression clearly much more animated than it had been in front of Morris. It showed that her nerves had finally relaxed, shifting from work mode to a more laid-back state.
“Exactly, Lord Morris is a Holy Knight who disarmed not just us, but even the Head Maid Roselia. It’s really for the best that he obediently returned to his room.”
The long-haired maid let out a relieved sigh and shared a grateful smile with her companion, as if there was no longer any need to worry about unexpected trouble.
No wonder, since they had seen with their own eyes that Morris had returned to the Queen’s bedchamber.
All the windows in the Queen’s chamber were sealed by magic circles, making it impossible to get out from the inside. The only exit was the large door right beside them.
And with the two of them standing guard at the door, there was no need to worry about anything unexpected.
Surely, no one would be foolish enough to sneak into the Queen’s bedchamber when it’s not even being guarded, right?
Eh! There really was someone!
“……”
“……”
Just as the two maids relaxed, reassured that nothing had gone wrong with their duties today, Morris and the marquis’ daughter inside the room were staring wide-eyed at each other.
“…Miss Sivirinde, why aren’t you saying anything?”
After a brief silence, it was Morris who finally broke the quiet.
He did his best to appear calm and composed as he spoke to the marquis’ daughter standing not far in front of him.
“…Sorry, it’s just that there are too many things I want to say, so I don’t even know where to start.”
The marquis’ daughter averted her gaze, seeming a little apologetic, though her voice was as cold and hard to read as ever, making it impossible to tell what she was really thinking.
At this moment, she had changed back into her usual black formal dress.
Though he wouldn’t say it aloud, Morris had to admit that Sivirinde suited this outfit far better.
Those odd draconic horns and fairy-like long ears fit this mysterious, gothic look perfectly. That silver armor was really more appropriate for a blonde, blue-eyed female knight.
“If it’s about playing the role of Queen of Fastal, you don’t have to let it bother you. It was that woman Elvira who asked you to do it, wasn’t it?”
Hearing Sivirinde speak, Morris—so as not to let her bring up the confession and her ‘eating on the sly’ and thus avoid any awkwardness—walked to the sofa and casually brought up the previous incident with a tone that made it clear he didn’t mind.
“…Yes, it was indeed El who asked me to play along in her little drama. I’m truly sorry for that, but I hope you don’t hate her, Sir Morris. She just wanted to show herself off in front of you.”
Guided by Morris’ tone, Sivirinde naturally mentioned the incident of playing the Queen of Fastal.
But she wasn’t just apologizing—she was also speaking up for her friend.
This made Morris sigh—he never imagined someone would actually defend Elvira. What in the world?
“I know that, but her way of showing off is awful. It’s hard to give her a pleasant face. If she had actually subdued the rioter, I would have praised her myself. But instead, she stepped on the lord her knight is loyal to—that is, me. Any other knight would have cursed her out on the spot.”
Seated on the sofa, Morris spoke naturally, like chatting with a friend, without displaying the hostility he had for Elvira.
This was mainly because the marquis’ daughter, Sivirinde, was polite enough that Morris was willing to have a proper conversation.
“…Yes, I reminded El about that as well, but she doesn’t seem to listen.”
“Not surprising. She’s the kind of person who, no matter how big a blow she takes, never repents and always blames others. Probably a personality formed from being pampered too much as a child. She was already plenty bad, but then she also has an astonishing lineage, beauty, and talent… Sometimes the goddess really does play some nasty tricks.”
Morris did not continue, but no matter how you looked at it, it was as if the goddess did occasionally do bad things—giving someone like Elvira so many resources.
“…Sir Morris, you’re truly merciless. While it is her own fault, aren’t you afraid I’ll tell her what you said?”
Sivirinde actually agreed with Morris, at least a little, but looking at this Holy Knight badmouthing her friend right in front of her, she couldn’t help but be curious about how bold he was.
“I’ve said it to her face before. If you want to tattle, go ahead. But I don’t think you’re that kind of person, Miss Sivirinde.”
Morris waved his hand, showing he didn’t care.
After all, he wasn’t afraid of Elvira finding out.
Besides, Sivirinde wasn’t that kind of person. If it were Roselia standing here, it would be another story.
“…Thank you for your trust. But this makes me feel even more apologetic for playing the Queen of Fastal. Hmm, I suppose I should do this.”
Upon hearing Morris’s explanation, the always-cool Sivirinde, without another word, suddenly began some strange action.
This made Morris, who was pouring himself tea, hurriedly put down what he was doing and immediately tried to stop her.
“Wait! Miss Sivirinde, what are you doing?”
At this moment, Morris looked a little nervous and somewhat dumbfounded.
And who could blame him? The marquis’ daughter, who seemed cold but in truth was not, was undressing. In just a moment, her abundant, fair northern hemisphere was already on display.
If Morris had been any slower, he might have seen both hemispheres at once.
“…Hm? I heard that the second most sincere apology requires exposing one’s chest, isn’t that right?”
Halfway undressed, the marquis’ daughter tilted her head in confusion. Her exquisite face was as calm as ever, showing not a hint of embarrassment.
But her actions were so bold that even Morris felt jumpy, thinking she might once again pull some ‘sly eating’ stunt.
“Not at all! Where did you learn that?”
Startled and exasperated, Morris let out a sigh.
He never expected the marquis’ daughter to be unexpectedly clueless.
“…I read it in a book about romance. By the way, the first most sincere apology is to fold one’s clothes and then do a **dogeza.”
But the marquis’ daughter seemed completely oblivious to why Morris was troubled, instead replying in a cold tone with an even more astonishing revelation.
Morris looked even more dumbfounded.
What? Which house’s romance book would teach such outrageous things? What a menace!