A small, ivory pigeon skillfully glides across the blue sky, its eyes determined and purposeful, signaling a higher level of intellect than the average dove. Fastened securely around its neck by some straps of leather is a rolled-up piece of paper, swaying gently with each rhythmic flap of its wings…
As the towering, white walls of Malena’s castle come into view, the messenger, having reached its destination, begins to gradually slow its flight. It circles once with intent, then descends smoothly, landing with precision on the narrow ledge of a particular window. With urgency, it taps its pointed beak against the glass a few times, attempting to summon the attention of whoever awaited inside.
After just a few seconds, the silk curtains inside are drawn back and the window finally opens. “Ah, greetings, little friend.” Olivia smiles, scratching the top of the pigeon’s head with her index finger before unlatching the roll of paper hanging from its neck. “Seems like my informant in Garro did his job… Wait here for a second, alright?”
She leaves a tiny bowl filled with corn seeds next to the bird, who immediately starts eating, then retreats into her office and sits in front of her desk to calmly examine the report. “Huh.” She exhales sharply through her nose in amusement as her crimson eyes scan the text. So he actually snatched the job from his older brother, how very nefarious… Yet there doesn’t seem to be anything particularly interesting about his life until that point, he was in a mercenary group for quite a while… and every unlucky soul that has come in contact with him describes him as a ‘dumb, annoying, thuggish, man-child douchebag insanely obsessed with sex’…
“Well, of course.” Olivia quietly murmurs to herself, fascinated. “Just never break character, do you, Mr. Stonefist? Play the dumb brute, keep your head down, and bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to seize power.” She rubs her chin as she continues reading.
No known associates… except for the elf, Nova. That girl… Every person has a weak point. Is she his…? Yet he also has that funny little succubus and Morgana following him around. Has he promised something to them? He can surely be very persuasive, he managed to seduce our dear princess, after all… And also… he has been acting suspicious with Captain Juliette, hasn’t he? Though… No. Juliette is as loyal as a dog. She made sure of it. Maybe as smart as one too, but she is keen where it matters to her position.
And what about Grace? Sadly, her loyalty can’t really be assured but… No, the sorceress enjoys her status too much to risk it. Actually, it’s her husband who doesn’t seem too fond of the orc. Might be worth inquiring about that.
Regardless… It’s time to act.
The royal advisor uses one of the lit candles decorating her desk to dispose of the confidential report, holding it atop the flame until it disappears into black ash. She then grabs a blank paper of her own and starts writing on it, a faint smile of excitement forms on her lips as the words flow from her quill. When she finishes, she rolls the sheet into the shape of a tube, stands up, and approaches the window again.
“My apologies for the wait.” The woman says to the pigeon, tightly securing the new message to its neck. “There you go, brave little one. Fly safe!” She makes a playful military salute, bringing the side of her palm to her forehead. The white bird coos, hurriedly pecking up a few more seeds, then launching into the sky, wings slicing through as it vanishes into the distance.
Olivia takes a short moment to observe the landscape outside, before sighing and closing the window. The woman then leaves her office, strolling through the hallways of the castle before reaching what she was searching for, the hanged portrait of the defunct queen.
She pauses in front of it, offering the painted queen a small, reverent bow. Naturally, the woman on the canvas doesn’t respond, she merely holds that same delicate, radiant smile, eternal and untouchable… An extraordinary woman, no doubt. But one who left behind a broken, grieving widower… and spawned a daughter far more troublesome than regal. But it doesn’t matter. Olivia will fix everything, as always, as she promised. It would just be nice, once in a while, to be thanked for it.
Suddenly, a presence approaching from behind disturbs the mature woman’s pondering. “Here you are!” The orc ambassador exclaims, mustering the self-control necessary to rest his humongous hand atop her shoulder instead of slapping her fat ass. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, I-“
The woman swiftly turns around as quickly as her heels allow her to, gripping Orok‘s wrist with a sharp, controlled precision. Without a second of hesitation, she twists his hand, her fingers locking into place as she applies just enough pressure to turn his huge palm upward, forcing his arm to bend in a way that leaves him painfully immobilized. “Gah! W-what the fuck!?”
“Oh, ambassador! I’m sorry, you caught me off guard.” She says with a smile, yet she doesn’t bother releasing him, her fingers continuing to press down on his joint, making him feel the full force of her calm control. “This… is aikido. A little something I picked up over the years. A girl should know how to defend herself, shouldn’t she?” Olivia tilts her head slightly, her tone teasing yet deadly serious. “Funny thing about this martial art. Doesn’t matter how much bigger or stronger your opponent thinks he is. To defeat him, you just need to find the right angle, the right pressure… and, well, take advantage of it. Just like this.”
“That’s… pretty cool…” The orc grunts in discomfort, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. “B-but you can let go now!”
“Ah, yes, of course. My bad.” The royal advisor chuckles, easing her grip and finally freeing the ambassador.
“No problem.” He takes a step back and caresses his sore wrist, unable to stop a sly smirk from appearing on his face. “I’ve always preferred my girls with a very strong grip, after all. Gahahaha!”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, nothing… Anyways, I needed to talk to you! Let’s go get some ice cream or something and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.”
“Some… ice cream…?” The woman lifts an eyebrow, the polite smile on her red lips appearing sincere for a second. “Okay, ambassador… Just let me fetch my boyguards.”
“Bodyguards? Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll keep you safe!” Orok winks his eye, flexing his thick arms in a heroic pose.
Olivia elegantly covers an earnest giggle with her palm. It surely is an entertaining character the one the ambassador plays… “You do have an intimidating physique.” She says, the pair of heavily armored bodyguards that follow her around each time she leaves the castle are nothing but a mere formality after all, their presence being more about maintaining appearances and security protocols rather than preventing actual physical danger… Also, the orc is not going to simply try to murder her on the crowded streets of the city in broad daylight like an amateur, so let’s just play along and make it more amusing. “Very well, I’m in your care, then, ambassador. I pray they have mint and chocolate…”
…
Olivia and Orok sat comfortably at a table outside the charming ice cream parlor he’d visited a few days earlier, savoring their treats. The human woman peacefully spoons her pot of chocomint while the orc savagely engulfs his dark-chocolate cones, holding one in each hand.
“So… a kitsune?” She begins, bringing the full spoon to her mouth and pausing to swallow before picking up the conversation again. “I’m going to be honest, ambassador… I didn’t really understand most of your story, nor what a ‘manga’ or an ‘idol’ is… But I believe I understood what you require; a sizeable public stage in some popular area of the city?”
“Yes, that’s right! For Makoto-chan’s concert!”
“Makoto-chan’s concert… I see…” Olivia repeats, fairly surprised. What was he planning? Is this all a big euphemism for something else? Is he just trying to confuse her? “Forgive me for asking, but… Why, ambassador? What do you stand to gain from this?”
“I’ve already told you, I’m her biggest fan and I want to see her succeed! It’s the least I can do after all the hours of happiness her works gave me.” He gulps his ice cream, nonchalantly wiping his tusked mouth with the back of his forearm.
The woman simply studies him in silence, her firm gaze unwavering as she tries her utmost to read his true intentions. Does this kitsune girl even exist…? What’s the worst thing he could do on a stage? Throw a speech against the crown? That would be ridiculous.
“Uh…” The ambassador attempts to break the uneasy silence, scratching the back of his head. “Gahaha, your eyes are red like mine. Never noticed that before…”
“Oh, just a birth defect, ambassador… Combined with my pale skin, kids at school used to think I was some kind of vampire.” Olivia explains, amused, the corners of her lips curling upwards. Then she turns quiet again, scooping the last of her chocomint.
“That’s… cool.” He mutters, shifting awkwardly over his seat as the quietness stretches on again. Then, with a sudden huff, he pulls his bulging purse from his pocket and waves it in the air with desperate flair. “Look, please just help me get a stage! I’ve got a lot of money. Whatever it costs, I’ll pay!”
Olivia’s eyes go wide as saucers, her pupils shrinking to dots the moment she notices the trendy, glittery pouch dangling absurdly from the orc’s massive hand.
“Pfffttt… bwahahahahahahahahahaha!”
The laugh escapes before she can stop it, erupting into a full-blown fit as she doubles over, clutching her stomach as tears drip from the corners of her eyes. It’s her first real laugh in decades, a strange, almost surreal sight coming from someone usually so composed and impenetrably serene as the mature woman. “What are you laughing about…?” The orc furrows his brow.
She recognizes that purse. Princess Francesca’s money, or, to be more precise, the money from Malena that goes to her allowance. So that was it. He’d sweet-talked the little brat into handing it all over, and now he wanted to boast about it… A loud, celebratory concert… paid for by Malena itself. How perfectly audacious. Almost admirable in its arrogance… Oh, ambassador… just hope that you don’t come to regret the nefast consequences of your hunger for power when they come.
“Ah, what isn’t there to laugh about, ambassador?” She exhales, wiping her tears with a single graceful finger as her fit finally ceases. “But since you ask… yes, I do know a place that would suit your needs splendidly. And don’t worry about spending your hard-earned money on it, I’ll make sure it’s free of charge.” A pause. Her gaze narrows, a predatory glint flickering on it. “Think of it as a gesture of Malena’s hospitality… I have a feeling you won’t have much left to celebrate after the concert.”
“Whaaat, really!? You are the best, Olivia!” The orc exclaims, way too excited to pay much attention to the last part of her speech, complete and utterly oblivious to the undertone. ‘She totally wants me to fuck her brains out, that’s why she is being so nice, Gahahahaha!’ is the only reasoning that appears in his mind, along with lewd fantasies about how the advisor’s huge, pillowy derriere must look in a doggy-style position.
“Don’t mention it, ambassador.” The woman lets out a final chuckle, calmly rising from her seat. “I hope you have a nice day, and please send my regards to your wife, Nova… Such a lovely girl she is…”
…
“I-I’m shorry! *hic!*” Nova loudly cries out, her voice cracking with ugly hiccuping sobs. The elf, completely drunk, still clutches an open bottle of wine to her chest, her body half-naked, save for the thin lace of her bustier and her panties. “I’m- *hic!* -I’m shooo, shooo s-shorry, girls… I’m such a biiiisssshhhh.” Her words trail off in a pitiful, drunken slur.
Inside the ambassador’s suite, the late afternoon light casts soft shadows across the room as Nova lies over the bed, her long silver hair tangled in damp strands, her face flushed and streaked with tears, the tips of her long, twitching ears tinted into a deep shade of pink… Morgana and Pink remain knelt by the bed, doing their best to comfort the sobbing girl.
“Shh, shh… Everythin’ is goin’ to be aight, luv.” The tall ogre woman, with a motherly smile present on her lips, gently sweeps over Nova’s disheveled hair, pushing it away from her soaked face.
“Yeah! What Morgs said.” Pink adds, reaching out to massage her soft, creamy thigh. “That princess is nuts, she probably enjoyed you going all dommy on her… I wouldn’t recommend you to do it again, but I don’t think she’ll kill us for that yet.”
“It’s… it’s not jush thaaat, I…” The elf mumbles, pushing her plump lips into a pout. “I’ve been shooooo mean to shuuu. The worsht… And you both are always sho sweet to me… well Morgana is, Pink bullies meee, but most of- *hic!* -most of the time she is acshually pretty nice and… a-and… WAAAAAH!”
The elf suddenly bursts into exaggerated tears, pausing only to take another long swig from her drink… Yet the next minute, her desolate expression melts into something else, something almost cathartic. “I-I’ll make it up to you! I promiseee.” She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as determination fills her amber eyes. “You two are my besht friendsss! I love you girls so mushhh… I never had a besht friend before and now I have twooo, hehehe.” Without warning, she tosses the bottle aside, wrapping her thin arms around the pair and pulling them in for a tight, uncharacteristically affectionate hug.
Morgana and Pink gasp in surprise, crushed against Nova’s slender frame. They blink once in unison, startled by the sudden display of fondness from the typically cold and serious elf. “W-we luv ya too, sweet’eart!” Morgs giggles, stealthily grabbing the half-empty bottle abandoned over her flat chest and prudently putting it away. “How could we not love someone as cute and smart as you?”
“Uh-huh! We looooove you, Nov-Nov… We also think you are like, super hot~!” The succubus grins as she leans against the elf, her curves playfully squished against her torso. “So stop getting worried about stupid stuff and learn to enjoy yourself a little more, dummy.”
“Sometimesh- *hic!* -Sometimesh I wish I could be as relaxed and eashy-going as you are, Pink…”
“Well, uh…” She shifts uncomfortably, her hand going to the back of her neck, her expression softening. “I’ll probably be dead soon, so I try to not worry too much about anything, you know?”
“What!?” Nova and Morgana’s voices ring at the same time.
Pink shrugs. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you? We succubi don’t live too long… I’ve probably got a year or two at most… But hey, that’s all I need.”
“You… You…” The elf trembles, gaze wide with disbelief. “Y-you are so annoying shometimesh… and you teashe me a looot… *hic!* …B-BUT I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIEEEEEEE!” She viscerally screams, breaking into a hysterical wail once more, her chest heaving. “PINK, I’M GOING TO MISS YOU SOOO MUUUSSSHHH!”
“H-hey, don’t start crying again!” Pink panics. “I’m still here! I’m not… I mean, Morgs, tell her! I’m… Morgs?!”
“…uuuu…” Morgana’s eyes are the ones now welling up, her lower lip trembling as she tries to contain a sob. “I-I don’t want ya to die either!” She whispers, her voice cracking, until, unable to hold back any longer, she finally succumbs and joins the elf in her devastated weeping.
“S-stop crying, girls! Y-you are going… you are going to make me cry too! I…” The succubus says between little whimpers, the wetness of her eyes a clue, hidden behind her long bangs, yet it isn’t long until tears start spilling down her rosy cheeks. “Waaaaaaah!”
What started as a single girl crying has now developed into an intertwined mess of pure bawling, filling up the room. And that is what the ambassador arrives to, after having spent the day procuring advertisements, outfits, and gear for the upcoming concert. “Ugh…” He sighs, seeing the many empty bottles scattered around the suite and breathing in the unmistakable stench of alcohol. “You been drinking? You get so weird when you drink… I’ll come back later.”
“YOU! Don’t you- *hic!* -dare run away!” Nova’s voice cuts through the room like an arrow. The ambassador barely has time to react before she disentangles herself from the pile of girls on the bed and starts staggering toward him, her steps wobbly but determined, arms slightly outstretched to the sides for balance.
“I have a looooot of thingsh to say to YOU, mishter!” The elf cutely scrunches her nose in a frown as she reaches him, now standing so close to the orc that she is pressing her small chest against his stomach, her flustered, angry face remains gorgeous despite being covered with tears and snot as she stares daggers at him…
Suddenly, she spins around to address the two girls still quietly sniffling on the bed. “Besh friends?” She begins saying with a drunken sweetness. “Could you pleeeaaase give us a moment alone? *hic!* I promiiishe it’ll be quick~.”
Morgana and Pink exchange a look, then wordlessly rise and shuffle out, dabbing at their eyes with their palms. “Thaaaank youuuu~!” Nova calls after them in a sing-song voice, before resuming to face the ambassador, her expression immediately hardening again, staying aggressively silent.
“W-what…?” He barks, annoyed yet also nervous from the elf’s awfully intense gaze. She lets one minute pass before outright attacking him, jumping onto his huge figure like some kind of rabid animal… yet it isn’t actually him that she desires to rip to shreds, but his clothes, using her claws and even her teeth to undress him.
Orok puffs as he is forcefully pushed onto the mattress by the girl, now bare naked. His thick dark-green log of fuckmeat swinging around and loudly slapping against his stomach and thighs as he lands over his back. “Hey! I could just have done that on my own, crazy elf!”
The drunk girl smugly grins, dripping sweat and breathing heavily from the physical exertion. “Buuut I wanted to do it myself, you big idiot! Tee-hee…” She drops her panties to her ankles and unclasps her bustier, tossing them away.
She climbs into the bed with the orc, drags herself towards him, and plops gracelessly onto his lap, letting her moist pussy press against the length of his shaft. “Mash~ter…” She purrs as she leans back a little bit, stretching both her legs to rest them over his chest, playfully tapping at his cheeks and tickling his nose with her toes. “I have a very important question.”
“Yeah…?” He sighs, resigned, not even making an effort to remove the small, velvety elven feet from his face.
“Letsh say- *hic!* -Letsh say that for some shtrange reason I get transformed into a… hmm… into a worm, what would-“
He recoils slightly at the thought. “Gaaah, a worm!? You know I hate bugs.”
“Yeeesh, shuddup, that’s the point! So, what would… w-what would you do?” She asks, very eagerly awaiting his answer, her bright amber eyes locked onto his, full of expectancy. “Please… tell me.”
“See!? You say such weird things when you are drunk… But I-I suppose I’d keep you around and try to figure out the way to transform you back…”
She blinks, a slow realization dawning across her face, her upper lips parting in surprise while her lower lips get even mushier against his semi-hard cock. “Y-you… You’d really keep me? Even- Even if I was all squishy and grossh a-and could only wiggle around…? Woah…” She mutters, her voice softening and her expression lightening. “So you… you care about me? Ish that it…?” She presses her soles tightly against the sides of his head, locking it in place and making sure he isn’t able to divert his gaze away from hers.
“Ugh, I guess…”
“Then… then, uh… say you love me!“
“What!?” The orc alarmedly gasps, his eyes widen like plates and the temperature of his face rises.
“Yesh! I’m loyal to you, yeeet you fuck other girls all the time… but if shuuu really care about me… Then say it…! Say it, you coooooward!”
“Um…” Orok‘s pupils nervously dart around, searching for an escape as he struggles to make words leave his lips. “Gaaah, f-fine! But you say it first!”
“I…” Nova is the one now rendered speechless. She opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again… Her lips wobbling… Then she finally lets out a loud, squeaky, high-pitched noise and smacks both of her palms against her crimson face. “N-noooo! Too embarrasshinggg!”
The elf abruptly slides off the orc’s lap, her balance teetering as she stumbles out of bed, leaving behind a snail trail of sticky, glistening girl-juices. “I-I’ll bring the girlsh… I owe Morgana a- *hic!* -a baby, so you will have to cum inshide her a looot… But you should also creampie me and Pink, because you… uh, you owe us for being good ash-ashishstastants…” She drunkenly butchers the last word, sternly jabbing one of her thin, delicate fingers at the ambassador.
