The others are still looking all about, walking across the room in odd patterns, changing directions and trying to trap me. As if they still could- oof, almost got caught, almost. The priest just about bumped into me, when he stepped back as the knight commander drew close swiping with his blade. I had to hit the back wall instead, heart beating faster now as I made one unfortunate but silent oof noise. But fortunately these sounds get muted by the other men's rushing around in random patterns, as their heavier footwear drag and scrape on once polished floors. Their vocalizing their actions and failure to find me, crisscrossing the floor while searching, means I'm almost free. Almost.

Fine; I'll try to ... get out of their way ... and stand behind the queen or the princess; a much better option, unless they back into me, revealing my position-

The path to them is ― blocked. Strangely, this half dark elf half human assassin/thief type girl is still watching me, while occasionally 'pretending' to look around too. She seems to see clues about my escape, yet secret from their collective notice, might somehow be good for her, too ― I hope. I'm sure this means, in her own small way, she feels or understands my plight, almost perfectly so. Well maybe not so much in a perfect sense, as I am sure her situation is different than mine. So ... summoned, to slave, but with her own actions? That's cool, I can use this.

Yikes! I just had to swerve to avoid a new slash of blades, and grimace as it nearly cut at my cloak. The slave girl's face also seemed aghast in the deed. Could it be? Does she see the whole me, or see just a glimmer or outline, or maybe none of those options? Time to ... make a test, and see-

I smile and wink, as her eyes meet my line of sight ― to fake how I'm alright, even if I'm challenged ― as good a test as I can manage, here.

Her eyes go wide, within a second, then screw back to the former tight lidded look. Yeah, she saw a wink; which means she does see me, or the image of me. I've always wondered if I can let others see me while cloaked, or if it's all encompassing. But still holding to her silence, even while I'm cautiously worried she'll betray me at some key instant ― I have to trust her, validated for it or not.

I need to know what she intends to say or do, dammit-

Then I see the head knight get a clear idea into his head; he commands the royals to head for a corner. They do, guarded by two of the knights ― king, queen, and princess now are pinned in a corner, with two loyal knights between them and I. Like an alternative form of castling in the chess game, only so much more real stakes than plastic or wood pieces. Also ― it's reduced the pieces, men, in motion ― two guard the doors, two protect the royals, leaving these six knights and two priestly types now to walk the room. The young acolyte is ... scared. Did he pee his pants? I do, I see wet streaks on the floor behind him. Well ... I ain't so scary ... I only blew up the queen's library ... once-

Odd the half dark elf can't get the same treatment; she got pushed out of their corner to fend for herself yet. So on her own I see her step back toward the back right corner, where she can also look at all of us in speculation. It affords her the best chance anyway to 'stay out of it' by not getting into others' ways. But ... what the hell kind of strategy is this, putting the royals all in one corner position? Do they truly understand the castling move as I do? Or ... how can I use this ... to an advantage, somehow-

If they only knew I'm a ninth level wizard, surely they'd know I can end them all now ― in one swift blow ― or severely damage or cripple them instead. In the blink of an eye, this may be over; yet I'm not so cruel as to end them, but try to limit the damage to the combatants. I'm not trying to harm them or even distress them, only to get away from here but they do not make this easy at all.

Even at ninth level, the only one of the catkin above me in the wizard's tower is High Wizard Neytaan himself. He'd told me how a long time ago ... before the wars of the neighboring queendoms ... he'd found a scrap of one ancient directive. It states how the Wizard's Corps are to rank the members by twenty levels, plus tells of their capabilities and qualifications too. Neytaan had been the first to achieve as high as twelfth level, making him the senior most one. In as little as four years too, I'd passed the second highest, a level six curmudgeonly old grumbling catkin. But ... here is ... different ― I don't think they even have wizards, 'just' the mages and priests.

But even if I could eliminate them ― for any sense ― I'd vowed to never use my skill for harm to innocents, not if I can ever help this. Even if the royals and their summon ritual is a cause for concern, it's not yet escalated to the point of unleashing any damage ... yet. And with proper training ― a Wizard of even a ninth level can hit where he aims, and only what he aims. I could take out the king, only the king; but except for not knowing the regional political landscape, doing so might cause more harm than good-

-plus let's say I do get away. At some point yet in this world, I might need to face one or all of them again; it will be for the best if I cause no harm here. It's only ― they bring a knife, I bring a whole frikkin mana infused tsar bomba.

---

This situation, still, is coming to a stalemate. A crucial 'default' if none of us chess pieces can make more than the repeat end game movements. Sooner or later, someone is going to slip up, and then ... I hope it isn't me.

It's taking a while of them scurrying around yet not finding me; I'm as tired of their not stopping as they got tired of me not being found by them. Even the 'template princess' turns to one device on the wall, seemingly like a local variant of a digital alarm clock, with slow changing digits ― to then mutter. "Father it's about time for lunch; can this be done, soon? ... I'm hungry-"

"Just ... hold. We'll be hearing the cathedral bells soon enough but it's not done here."

This indicates ... intent. Malicious? Maybe not by their minds; but still a harsh ending for me.

Who do I have, here, to deal with? Who else can get removed from the board (as if they're chess pieces)?

This royal family ― king, queen, and princess ― are the key pieces. Maybe none of them will be part of a counterattack except for them to come out 'arms swinging' if nothing else; they aren't looking armed and dangerous, yet. I however could attack them at any time; whether they would expect it or not. The king is all furious glares and sharp barks of commands; the queen is fearful in her own right, while letting her reddened eyes dart to and fro. The princess looks between her two parents with both concern and confusion, not even fear or fury, but ... more like, what is she to do now, if I'm not captured.

The summoners ― the obese middle aged man, as a 'high priest' and his young son maybe an acolyte or trainee at the priest arts. Eh, not so strong looking; strong smelling naturally. The priest is naturally the better of these two in holding their ground against me; the boy is ... laughable, despicable ― but for another case. They don't truly look like they could do much more than the magical equivalent of 'parlor tricks' compared to me. Wizard trumps mage, any day.

Ten knights of varying power levels. The greatest one in magic potential is not the head knight; the one seemingly 'second in command' after him is. But none of the knights are aware of their own magic potential; or, maybe they fall into some sort of caste systems. Even so, without my magic skills, any one of them could yet twist me into a pretzel. And one young slave assassin girl, maybe summoned the same way as I at an earlier time. She isn't so far from an age I am, too; yet I have a feeling she's somehow as weak as the rest here. Does being summoned, no matter a magic strength in the last world, somehow weaken one? She somehow seems to see exactly where I am, or what I do, even where I look and turn; but yet she does not give me up to the rest. Can I ... trust her? Could it be worthwhile to include her, into my plans?

... um, yes. Tentatively, at least ― I can use this girl, for my own safety ... and possibly hers. And maybe use her again later ... aah stop it, I have a wife ... in another world-

... in pure analysis ― the three royals, two knights at the doors, and two knights guarding the royals ― are all stationary. Castled, within a castle ― well this and two priests moved to stand along the left-hand side wall near its door ― lazily scanning this room. Not like they can find me. Which leaves ... you guessed it, six knights crossing the floor and one worried slave girl standing still too. This means I only have six men to avoid, plus one girl to ... help, somehow?

The only clue I got to go on for what comes next is a mention of ... a cathedral bell. It could be loud enough here ― the window openings are high in the room but lead to the outside; it's a cinch all in here should hear bells too. Which also means ― if I want to 'speak' to or with a slave girl ... it had better be during the bells ― as the last resort-

In all this time I wound a circuitous route to the far end of the room, to stand beneath one window to listen. How to get to her? Sneaking around the throne room is how. I see her grow slightly more worried as I come near. I glance to her, too ― I put a finger to my lips and shake my head in a 'no' manner, to imply for her to keep quiet. She relaxes only slightly, then keeps up with her act of looking all over, as usual, like the others. Good; I think this'll be okay.

-I think the funny thing here is ― if only everyone locks arms and sweeps this room from end to end, I have no way to avoid detection, in just passing. I cannot jump without showing myself; I can't duck low enough to slide under them if they're at density; even more so, if more knights from outside packs the room. In some ways, I am glad they are not so daring to try this; at the same time want to 'face palm' from the easy tactic they should be employing. Eh ... what can I do, but sigh-

Outside the room, through its higher window slots, I hear a loud cathedral bell ― finally ring off the beginning of an hour. Oh so this world is at least civilized enough to tell the time by the hours? It's loud, ringing out onto the country and could cover even soft whispers fully.

The princess starts acting even more nervous, all of a sudden; with the cathedral bells ringing, it's brought to mind a key necessity. Food.

"Father I'm hungry now, it's noon-"¹Aah Veruca from the Wonka movie -- we hardly knew ye-

"Shh, quiet daughter. Wait it out."

Still, while the ringing is going on, its opening peals of some tune, I lean in to the half dark elf girl I've just arrived next to, and whisper. I believe the sound will get masked if I time my speaking with the chimes.

"If you will help me now, I will help you later. Don't follow me with your eyes. This twig I slide into your pocket is a prepared spell, designed to lead people astray for a few hours. Say you gotta go or something, then get one brief moment alone, snap the twig in two, and let it do its thing. When you come back ― say you saw a figure like me outside of here, and ... point them in some direction which seems plausible."

Her eyes look wild, cautiously listening to every word, and then barely even blinking, lest nods be seen too as a betrayal of her master. Then, I step back, out of the way of those others still crisscrossing the room, to keep up a rotational vector to pass through them for as long as possible.

The bells rang a thirteenth hour, and stopped. Both she and I await with baited breath; until she speaks-

"M, master. I, I have to go ... to the latrine-"

"So! Pee where you stand, for all I care!"

"-not ... that. And ... 'girl problems'. Feeling ... sick."

Gotta hand it to her, she seems convincing ― a hand to her lower belly and the severe grimace truly sells it.

"... aah crap. It's that, is it. Oh, well then Sir Belzar, escort Slave Roia to the privy then. Be quick!"

Roia? Pretty name, which I see suddenly unlocked across her futzed status screen; and as I said, she isn't so bad to look at either. I ― I'd give her body all the attention it needs ... if the situation gets fixed, and I have time-

Still, this guard grabbed her firmly, which he might be hurting her arm in how I see her wince and groan; he drags her hastily directly to the door. Even so, both her guard and the man at the door control who goes in or out; I could not squeeze through with them if I tried. Good thing this scene is a ruse, anyway.

In the meantime, two less people to avoid ― or one, since Roia did nothing here ― but their movements are staying erratic. Oh why oh why do they not just escort the royal family out of here? Or sneak out using the escape door? Did they have some other reason-

I sense the possibility the secret chamber behind the throne might in reality be 'one way in, no way out'. So they could still need the situation in this room resolved before they could exit from it. It would make sense to hide them there; but since I'm going to play this ruse, I'm not sure when they will give up in here and go look elsewhere. Or maybe they can't let it go, for some critical reason?

-ugh. Maybe it's not just in their wounded pride, maybe; they needed to end this ― with me either captured, collared, or dead. As if to collar me, the royal family receives authority on me, at least the king, and maybe queen as well. Like in my last time the plan to have me 'bonded' to the princess for some strange thought ... my genes could produce excellent gifted offspring into their lineage.

... I won't say they're wrong ― not after I've also seen it's true, in the former world ― my own child, he'd be a strong adventurer, in any world-

But still. Maybe taking ten minutes, whatever a minute is here, and then Roia returns ― not by being dragged back into the room by a weary knight, but avidly stepping back in. "Master! I-"

"Oh what is it now, you little failure of a slave?" the king vents with a sudden fury.

... this was not a nice thing to say, you desperate king-

Roia seems to recover so quick though, not even ducking at the barrage of words.

"-master. On the walk back while peering out through the city, I think I saw someone who looks like the summoned one ― a man with the same style of cloak, walking-"

"What? Where!"

"... I think, to Ambassador's Row? He ran maybe down Martyr Street, which does head that way."

The king bears a face of confusion, then frustration, then passive worries. Whatever the meaning of Roia calling out those street names, he did get the meaning she inferred in my behalf. Anyway, it did seem to work out for a better reason, as the king then changed tack.

"Ah ... crap. Well then, everyone else is excused from here now, let's go eat lunch ― all except for you knights. Go down Ambassador Row and its side streets ― from embassy to embassy, building to building ― but find the boy!"

The knights seem to pale at the immensity of the job ... yet it's their job. Do, or die. House by house, street by street, block by block, ward by ward.

I wish to go eat soon too; so much feeling hungry, here. I miss my wife's cooking, even if it's lightly burnt sometimes ― even if she's only a portal node away-

The people file out of the room, but at the last second, the king speaks a command to the latter two. "Grange, Potter, stay behind; watch the two doors here. You never know, it might be a ruse, staying so silent here-"

... aaaaaaah rats. Well at least having only two to deal with will be far less a concern for me, now. It grows silent, while I struggle to hold back more stomach noise-

*gurgle*
*squeak*
*fffft*

-blame it on the younger one! It's always the younger one!

"... Potter ... you stink."

"Do not, Grange!"

---

Speaking of tactics, the reason I can't just go straight to the secret room ― any attempt to move the curtain in front of it would get heard, seen, and countered. I could move it as another piece of a ruse ― a magic tug from a distance ― then step aside. And when they come to investigate, get out through whatever door they leave unguarded-

-or so I think. I don't know what's outside these walls, at least not by sight. By sense for the immediate rooms ― a large body but with zero mana sense, pushing some large cart ― this could likely be their lunch. Ugh, don't remind me, I think I'm going to experience more gastronomic noises any second now too. I'm fine with it if Potter can take the blame again, you know it-

But beyond here, I do have a faint latent sense of the city where my clone is running free. It's my shadow clone, to loosely infer my current obfuscation in their view. It could "run free" and give pursuers something to go after ― while I myself am free to think up a true escape. But the connection ends, in the next few hours; so neither do I have limitless options. Sooner or later if the other me vanishes, then someone will start back here to inspect the room for clues ... if not before then.

Ten minutes go by, not a word from either of the two knights. Except ... Grange clears his throat a lot, maybe feeling ill with some chronic thing.

Then, after another length of five minutes, Grange yawns and stretches stiffly, to finally let off his own gas. Not sure; I haven't cared enough to keep them straight in mind, who's who or who has what name.

"Stop it, Potter. Keep attention here."

Oops, got them wrong. The stretching one was Potter, making the speaking one, Grange? Not as if I have to remember their names; it would be nice though.

"Oh shove off, Grange. You know any boy is long gone by now-"

"-how are you so sure?"

"It's a done deal; we can get out of here, at least for long enough to grab us a nibble too. Ain't right them nobles push us around; we're just as hungry as they. So then, we take our fill of food ― and, one of the slave girls we been eyeing to bed-"

"... eh okay. But if we're caught ― I'm pinning it on you! It's not just me to hang, it's you too!"

"Fair enough ― just don't let either of us get caught, and we can have our food and fun!"

The two of them sneaked out the left door, the one leading toward their destination, and exited to another hall and kept walking.

Now. Where to go from here-

The hall outside the right door ― the right door, get it ― the way the royal family left here shows an open view from a covered balcony along its whole wall. This must be the third floor of the castle because it looks like I'm seeing a far spanning view of a large city. Also leaning out and down is dizzying, even for me, but proves it's the third floor at least this way. Stone block floor, marble columns who support an overhanging floor above ― and wide open views between them.

I'm still invisible, right? I can still hold on another twenty five minutes or so, right? Then, gotta find the food-

Down the hall, someone is rushing, no two someones. Twin human girls ― maybe maids or slaves yet no collar, chests bounce as they race ― one of them laughs. "Bet I get to finish the princess' meal this time too!"

Oh ... so they're going to where the royal family is dining? How convenient. It means I might be able to find the slave girl I sorta promised to help. Maybe. I hope-

To keep up with them, I have to fast walk after them; they're eager to eat even table scraps by the way they scurry now. Enter one door, then another ― squeeze past one guard who got distracted by one of the twins ― jeez you'd think some security breach happened here recently or something. And now go in ― and I'm set. I also lift one key ring from the guardsman's belt too, just to use later ― I'm sure it'll be his neck on the line for its loss-

---

I finally see her ― back against the wall, within the dining hall ― dark elf girl Roia stands alone, maybe not allowed a courtesy of eating at the same table. She held no plate, so either she ate quickly and had her plate taken, or-

"Here, slave-"

The cart pusher just tossed a lone plate of salad at her. Oh the irony, tossed a salad. But she caught most of it and began eating, only a glance my way as I slide into the room, another cautious finger raised to my lips. I might not need to be so oddly specific like this; she likely knows how to keep silent ... for her own sake if not by command. But, I have as much self preservation sense as she does-

It's easy enough to sneak around this room to her side, as the royal family is speaking in loud but combative tones, locked in challenge of each other and 'oneupsmanship'. More than just the earlier three royals though. King Bonner, Queen Carissa, two sons Brutus and Rejinold, plus two daughters Tiana and Candra make up the king's family here. Candra seems the youngest, lone child; one chair next to her is empty ― inferring I should be next to her. Then a duke and duchess as the king's siblings, and a lesser nobleman who might be the queen's kin. And one couple who might be from a neighboring land, they don't look related to anyone here. Around twelve people sit at this table; plus their assorted servants are seen standing or kneeling or crouching along the walls.

At the head end of this long table, the king sits, plowing through his food like he's so hungry. At the far end, the queen has a full plate too, but daintily works at chewing with finesse. The two male heirs are at the king's end of the table also chewing roughly, and the two princesses are at the queen's end picking at their food. The remaining ones sit in declining order of rank, toward the midst of this table's long sides. I am thankful Roia and I are not near the king's end; although this means I am most near the queen's end. Only Roia seems to be alone ― as if she's forced to be so, or looked down upon. My gain, in being able to sidle up next to her, and maybe get to insert a hushed word now and then.

"May I-" I whispered to the slave Roia, pointing to her plate after a small protest from my stomach she hears too. Better feed myself while I can ― though I hate to take food from the girl's plate if she does look so thin.

"Mm hm."

As faint as she could, and without turning this way, she had answered. Good; maybe we can help each other more. I reach out gingerly, picking at a leafy thing like a piece of lettuce, and chew it without waiting. None of the others here seem to notice the lettuce disappear as I touch it; why would any of them dare focus on a mere slave. Lettuce does taste the same as on the other two worlds, though; simple vegetables are probably according to a system template all deities use-

As I settle into a renewed bout of silence, I listen to the arguments of the realm, news of the kingdom, to get a sense of things.

"Brother," the duke type guy says to the king, "what of the captive monster, I heard tell of in council?"

"The daughter of the demon lord; yes I've got her in the dungeon, in the deepest prison room floor. It will take a long time for the demon lord to ever find her ― or even know she's here in this kingdom ― or even invade to retrieve her."

... what. Eh ... why should it take so long ― I've only been here, what, little more than an hour ― and I hear him casually mention this detail? Aah, he's stupid-

-or, maybe smart? If he'd hid the demon lord's daughter in a deep dungeon like structure, then ... surely he has some plan? Something more than just saying this, to some other close relative?

"Funny you should say this, sire," the duke's wife adds. "But didn't I hear last year of a trio of captives managed to break free from the same place? Some band of ― what are they called ― 'anarchist rebels' who want to try to overthrow-"

"-gah!" The king froze, a fork full of something mealy halfway to his mouth. "-um n- no, Eugenia, I think you're mistaken! Clearly nothing of the sort is happening!"

I think he's lying. Again.

"Hmm. No matter, brother," the duke says once more, a sly pointed grin not even hiding his thought. "Your knights should find this young boy, soon. After all ― if he is on the run, well ... runners usually make mistakes. It's easier for a runner pursuing someone to capture their target, than it is for the running fleeing someone to get free-"

I know this fact too, it works within this world as well; which is why I am not 'running' ― scared or otherwise. If I stay right here in this capital then maybe I'll learn all I need to know for a while. Aren't I so smart? Well ... I did come up with the mana splitter spell construct, so ... yep, smart-

"I would be surprised if one of us could not just turn around ― and ... grab him," infers the eldest prince, the heir, with a wicked grin. "So. What did you say how this rogue summon happened to look?"

King, queen, and princess each spoke up, adding their descriptions. Pretty spot on, though not so perfect through all details; and not all in agreement on each detail, making me feel I can vary my milieu and still be free.

Candra does tell it best, though. She achieves the best description of me I've heard someone else give, in ... well, some time now.

"He's like, what, maybe nineteen years or so, just older than Rejinold. He has the dark blue cloak and dark gray shirt that isn't made like ours ... but finer. The footwear ... shoes ... a hardened leather like craftsmen wear, yet somehow feels pleasing to look at them, maybe easier to wear. Then, a nice pair of pure black pants, with pockets on the sides. And some belt ... well I think he has a brown belt over his pants, and it's lined with little utility pockets-"

Roia says nothing. But I sense her standing stiff, but somehow with a faint grin too. I'm perplexed; what does all this mean?

But yet, all is good enough of a description for them ― except when the princess adds with a finger aimed this way, "Ask that slave there ― she was there too. She hasn't answered yet!"

All eyes turn to look this way, specifically to Roia. I'm standing stiff. Then Roia does alright in acting a part; she looks like she's confused, but says, "It is as was said, he looks this way."

Now ... I feel it's risky for me to have them look here ― especially when my invisibility may end this soon. I feel the nearing effects of mana drain already. Probably down to the latter five or ten minutes until I ... go visible to all.

"Ah, I don't care any more, it's a screwy thing to fuss over," the heir prince says at last, with such a smug grimace. "I think my failure of a sister is smitten with him, she describes him the best of all three of you; but it doesn't matter since he's not here collared."

"-f, failure! I am not-"

"Yeah you are too, Candra, you little attention whore. Why so attentive to details ― all the crafted clothing and things ― like that? Or do you want to become ... a craftsman class citizen, too?"

"... w, well because! I'm supposed to know! Because! H, he's to be mine!" her cheeks burn bright red while her speech goes erratic. "I, I'd want to know what he likes, and wears, and maybe how he moves! Or his style of talk and conversation-"

Her voice fades out as even in her self defense she's seeing how weak her words are, to them. Face palm moment, times twenty. If I weren't still peeved at even being summoned in the first place, I might actually feel a hint of compassion for her- But nope. At least ... not just yet; I can't afford to overextend myself while still trying to get away now-

It's a way to confirm too ― their outright telling of one assumed fact. I was to be a 'gift' to the young princess ... and that's probably how this royal family here expands their bloodline. Always drawing in others from outside to do their dirty work ... by proxy.

"Hmm is this so, I didn't have such reaction to my own summoned bitch. She's just a warm body, nothing more."

Candra may be holding back her serious worried emotions, knowing how locked into her own spoken stance she is still. Yet she's no good at standing up for herself, I can see it in her face, she's not got the inner fire to speak in these things.

"B, but, how else would you know ― you know ― how your m, mate-"

"I don't care, sis. We don't have time for your issues. Here's a coin, go buy a few tissues in a market or something."

At once, the grinning heir prince flips one coin across the table towards his little sister. Its path chosen or not, it first splashes into this princess' plate, through something with thick gravy on it, to cause such a flagrant splash against her dress. And then the coin came to a rest with her raised hand. In shock or surprise, she holds it ― a round coin the size of a half dollar, a pure silver gleam, surrounded by a slim band of gold on the rim. And all on the face, it got a dab of the brownish gravy with reddish dots of spices within. Her eyes take it in at last ― glaring down on the enormous splash of it upon her dress front, turned with an accusing glare at her brother, and-

"... th, this is my new dress, you ... ass! Bought just for this day-"

The prince just laughs. "Like I said. I don't care. What a failure of a little sister you are. Whore."

Candra's eyes water; seriously she tries to hold it together. Is a new dress ruined on her first day wearing it, such a huge thing? Yes; I kind of do know the feeling ― how one of my antagonists, in the previous world, did fling mud at my brand new wizard's robe, given by my trainer. But, neither king nor queen calls for a halt to these rivalries. Only, the queen's eyes narrow in a glare to her own son ― a deed as good as ignored. Oh so it's like this, too ― boys versus girls?

-the sad fact is, Candra can't see the chance of revenge I got against one noble catkin lordling. She cannot fill her brother's bed with animal dung, like I did for the one who irked me. Okay screw it ― if I get a brief chance to embarrass Brutus, in the near term ― I'm gonna take it in her behalf and nobody can blame me-

In seconds, chat resumes ― to raise again to loud tones ― one sibling glares at the other. But it's time to check my family; touching Roia on the arm, I whisper.

"I'm Arthur. I have to go now, before the invisibility fails. See you later?"

"Mm hm," Roia adds as soft as possible ― but with a latent hint of fear at first of my leaving her behind. Well at my nod, she's seeming to feel better at my departure too. I think maybe she is even holding back a faint smile?

... I have many things to ask and say; but here is not the right time or place.

---

This bit is all I can do, now. I cannot chastise a king or queen, for letting their children abuse their siblings; I can't settle those royal issues myself, without knowing the delicate balance which might fall. I can't even yet enter my own realm, until first setting down a portal node on this world-

So, I dare not interfere in Roia's life just yet, or somehow ruin her chance to ― what, live free? Surely Roia is already in some routine, which if varied would mean the others would then turn on her. So then I could not help her too when I'd find myself outnumbered or overexposed.

Sneaking back out, I find myself back out on the walkway along this third floor view ― ah. There. An alcove, in the structure of this place, just wide enough for a portal at its smallest dimensional sizes. Place this one portal, and then ... good. I see it, and see into it, into my realm.

The portal is also meant to be hidden from anyone but me; but if Roia can see me, I don't see why she could not also see the portal. It's not glowing with visible light emission; it's just a door ... to another room. In this case, the room is a mild almost pastoral view of a countryside village, with my house twenty steps from me. Also on the other side, my summoned minion, a goblin prince, stands tall. Er, as tall as he can be. But ... he's tame, he's loyal, and he's looking ... bored?

Stepping inside, I calmly sought the chance to surprise him, as he'd stood looking to one other angle, not expecting my return here from where I came.

"Gimu!" I whisper quickly.

"... aah?" he almost choked in surprise.

I laugh with glee, then apologize "Oh, ho. Sorry for that. Well hello. How goes things?"

"Master it is okay, your dragon wife may be ready to give birth to the child ... about now."

"Oh, cool. Or maybe it's a mistake. But anyway ― ask Ceevah bring a food plate to me, I'll be standing by portal 13 when she needs to find me."

"Yes, master."

Gimu said 'dragon wife'; but we ― the dragon woman (not my wife) and I ― don't know each other as well as this. I'd spoke to her ― tried to tame her temper ― when I got sent for the 'slay the dragon' quest but couldn't harm her; I did not want to harm her. We more or less came to an agreement, for our consideration. I did sneak in once (while she slept), did 'this and that' upon her body, then ... she became this way, but I left her to think it some 'miracle birth'. And now she's about to give birth. Correction; 'gave birth' to a shiny egg already, before this ― but even I want to see if the dragonet hatchling could even look like me.

I see there in the dragon's nest, a view toward the smaller nest where the egg is gently resting. The mother is there too, gently playing about it with warming but not charring breath, tapped slowly against the shell, chuckling softly. She's probably just as curious to see, how a 'virgin dragon girl' like she was could produce a fertile egg, as she did ... months ago.

One crack in the shell formed, the infant inside give a tentative push outward, again harder ― then with a loud crack the shell began to split up. Large enough to suddenly see a hint of an eye which I cannot see fully from my angle to it-

"... huh?" the mother seems confused beyond reason.

(I'm not; but I do have an intense baaaaad feeling, creeping over me now-)

With faint moans of hope, the creature inside the egg pushes once more, and the shell splits off to one side, only half the face showing. I feel a sudden gush of acid through my stomach, as the little thing's face is starkly seen-

-like, looking like a ... a part human? A human face on a dragon body? Like my face?

The dragon woman coughs suddenly, as a shocking thought just came to her. "WHA-"

O,O

Uh. Oh. Dragon lady, she now angry.

Like, beyond pissed! Things are gonna go down!

"Arthur ― you bastard ... human!"

I think, my actions this last year may have 'doomed' human kind on the world-

I ... can't go through and take responsibility, for how the baby is ― she would kill me on sight.

Other than this ... I have another fear. I may have ... kind of ... told her things. Where she could find me ... what work I did ... my family too ... little things, to gain her trust. Now ... it might be a huge sword ... like a Sword of Damocles, which hung over my head-

With a great flapping of wings and loud streams of words even I dare not say, she takes to the sky from this aerie. But I know ... my former city of residence is about to bite the dust. As if any 'mana splitter' cannot have done any damage on its own, just being left to go 'critical failure' on me-

-no, more than just 'bite the dust' ... it's gonna be slagged.

My family ... still safe ... right?

---

PoV: Princess Candra.

It's not fair!

I had it all planned; I was to have this great guy, my mate ... to do things, with me!

I feel these tears streaming; mom looks only slightly with ... well, like she knows how I feel ... but still ... why doesn't she say something! Why is the situation always ... this!

I can't believe it, my new dress ― even if the cost gets covered by father ― that's still a waste of a good dress! A waste of a good chance to see my soon to be mate! But no ― Brutus has to have his way, and debase me?

I ... I am not a failure! Brutus doesn't have the right to say this! Why?! Why did he say it-

Well ... because. He thinks I am just trash. But I'm not! It's ... it's the past! The past attempt at troth ... to my betrothed. Offered and accepted and then planned for our date and time ― and then he's the one who ran, who ... left me-

The young boy Darren ― son of some march commander of a neighbor kingdom ― he and I did hit it off and were getting along nice. In fact the night of his disappearance, he and Brutus went to play cards ― some gambles my brother is fond of making ― and suddenly, the next day ... brother says ... Darren's gone, and the wedding is ... off?

... but ... we ... didn't get to ... to do it! And I so do want to! Even in the two years since Darren, I'm still eager and not just because my catkin maid's tongue does not 'do it' for me down there, so much, anymore! If he were to walk into this kingdom at any moment ― no other human could keep me from climbing all over Darren, or from dragging him back into my bed! It's gotta be him then!

The last thing I remember Darren say, he was going to look into the 'condom' thing he heard mentioned ... then go play cards with my brother. Then the next day he was going to be back with proof of its existence. But now he's ... still gone! And, I get nothing to show from it, but ... a ruined dress, a ruined reputation, a ruined value as a princess! Even father does not see me the same! When I said I was hungry, father didn't use the soothing 'my sweet candy Candra' phrase so now I think he does not love me in the same way anymore!

I want to scream ... to shout out with all the frustrations in my mind and heart ... but I can't. Not at this dinner table, in front of the parents; not in front of extended family; especially not in front of random slaves!

So. That's why. I want. Darren Hillyer-

---

PoV: ... the soul of the castle ... ?

It tickles-

-somehow now I, a castle core, and a sentient one no less ― have this strange rectangle of ... a presence not here, attached? How exactly does this happen?

I am ... the castle. I am all of its stonework and walls and towers and floors and ceilings and oh so much more-

This pathetic form of a royal family, they cannot and do not know my existence. But I have existed four centuries, to defend and protect the lives of the Povrah family ― a former merchant clan who settled in this valley, and found the dungeon nearby. Actually part of me was already here; part of me they found within the dungeon; and part ... from a goddess? Assemble them, to get me.

I have no mandate, no rule to my existence. I just appeared one day, brought forth in this form of existence, at a whim of some being more powerful than I. I have secret rooms, places within me even the royal families do not know ... none could know all this time. Some secret rooms which the past royals knew, these current royals have no idea ― meaning, these secrets had come to be not passed down to their children and later heirs. The right to know ― am I to tell them somehow, to reveal my presence in the form of a castle ― or can I just remain silent like this?

But. This last summoned one ― he ... 'saw' me. He saw my peaks, my curves, my gentle surfaces ... and I wanted to let him see so much more of me. Even my ... private parts-

No honestly it's my own private trick in switching out the 'hold' spell scroll for one of a more ... personal nature, which the priests of the past then used. I get such giggles each time these kings send to the priest for the time of summons; plus in my twisted humor, I do ... tweak ... certain things, in the summon. Oh I suppose it's not my right to do; but ... who's going to stop a castle from redirecting the summon event? Or from tweaking the race or gender or age or even pigmentation of the bodies?

How many summons in these four centuries? Ah ... well many more than three thousand, because as long as I recall, kings have been summoning seven or eight per year, and that's a steady average for so long. As slaves go, all kings and queens and princes and princesses and dukes and duchesses and those in the line of power, I have never seen them give slaves ... dignity. Well ... maybe one or two a mere century and a half ago ― a time of a lesser renaissance which ultimately failed in the next decade or two.

But. I've always watched what the summons do from the moment they arrive and give first blink, to their last breath. I've seen all of them, all of the time ... except when their orders take them outside of the castle's grounds. My reach and view only extends so far-

 This ... Arthur. Arthur Franklin King. I saw his status, though he cannot see mine just yet because he cannot see the extent of me, as this castle. So much of it I cannot understand; I see but just cannot comprehend it all. It's not supposed to be this way, right-

As a castle entity ― if I were a mortal ― then I should be properly 'jealous'. Jealousy ― what I saw of so many of the mortals ― when it comes to summons from worlds which may or may not exist with their stronger mana potential, than here. And, I am. Jealous. Oh but I am justifiably settled in this world! I have no problem with mana from this world! Only ... it irks me, not having mana to the strength some of these summons know.

Wait ― where did this new one go? Just a few moments ago, he was ... here, and then next he was ... wherever. Not here, inside me. Nowhere here, or there. Confusing. I shall have to observe this summoned male human, as a specimen, a possible first match to me-

-so ... I am jealous ... and now, a new word ― possessive.

I must have this man ... at any cost!

Problem.

This emotion ... if it's an emotion ... gets called more than jealous, much more than possessive ― I even heard this word 'yandere' said by one summon, to one who desired him. He reared back and called her a freak, then of course she cut him. Could I want to cut Arthur? Is this what will happen, between us too?

If I am yandere, if I am possessive, if I am jealous ― this means I too should beware his looking at other mortal ... females? Would he dare look at other females, after he knows of me, to be his one and only, true castle? I ... I can't ... but I must try-

-darling must be intimate ... only with me!²"The yan is strong, in this one-"