Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1781 Joining the Fun

"Can we join?" Quinlan asked, nonchalantly ignoring the screeching.

"...Join?"

"We're hungry."

Mira's mouth opened. Closed.

She looked at the children already swarming him, then back at him, and the sheer absurdity of the Primordial Villain asking to sit down for a picnic with her orphans rendered her completely speechless.

The elf sister and the wolfkin sister rose and bowed to Quinlan. "Sir, it would be our honor."

"Thank you," Quinlan smiled.

He produced a wide blanket from his pocket ring and spread it beside the children's.

Jasmine sat down next to him before the fabric had settled, crossed her ankles, and turned to the elf sister with the governor's smile.

"How have things been? Any issues with the last shipment?"

"Everything has been wonderful, Governor Argentis. The children have been eating well and the new building materials arrived on time."

While Jasmine talked logistics, Mira's brain was catching up with the guests stepping off the wind and settling onto the blanket, one face at a time.

The blonde in roughspun. Those golden eyes.

"...Elisabeth the Dawn Breaker?!"

The older man beside her.

Grey hair.

Regal bearing that commoner's clothes did nothing to hide.

"King Alexios?!"

The purple-haired girl who had already leapt from the blanket and was running toward the children.

"Princess Felicity?!"

Then two elven women lowered their hoods, and the ears that emerged were so long, so perfect, and so unmistakably royal that Mira's knees buckled.

"ELF QUEEN MYRASYN?!"

Hearing those words, the elf sister's composure shattered. She rose and tried to bow to Myrasyn, hands trembling. "Your Majesty, I- forgive me, I didn't recognize you... I grew up in slavery, I've never seen your portrait-"

Myrasyn took the nun's hands before she could finish.

She held them steady, met her eyes, and smiled.

"May we join you?"

The elf sister blinked. The trembling stopped. "...It would be our pleasure, Your Majesty."

"Just call me Myrasyn," the queen corrected gently. "I already surrendered my throne to the man you now follow."

"!!" All three nuns' eyes flew wide open at the casual revelation.

Isveth was already settling onto the blanket beside her queen, tucking her legs beneath her and studying the children around them with bright eyes and a smile she couldn't have suppressed if she tried.

The blankets merged.

Children rearranged themselves around the newcomers with the fearless curiosity of creatures too young to know what "continental power" meant, and Quinlan began pulling food from his pocket ring.

Roasted meats wrapped in wax paper.

Honeyed bread that steamed when unwrapped.

Pastries dusted with powdered sugar.

Fruits in colors the children had never seen.

The pile grew until the dwarven boy's eyes took up half his face.

"Did you have any cool fights?!" a human boy asked, bouncing on his knees.

"Just came from a big one," Quinlan said, tearing a piece of bread.

"Did you win?!"

"Obviously."

"Did you punch anyone?!"

"Not even his mother could recognize him now."

"COOL!!"

The elf girl edged closer. "Were you hurt?" she asked, and the care in her voice was buried so deep beneath composure that only a fellow elf would have caught it.

"Yes, but my pretty elf wife patched me up really well."

"Hmph!! …Good." She looked away, cheeks puffed. "Not that I was concerned."

The mood settled in the next few minutes.

Chewing replaced shouting.

Circles formed as naturally as water finding its level, children drifting toward whichever adult they were curious about.

A human boy of six walked up to Isveth, dropped to one knee, and placed his hand over his heart.

"Beautiful lady," he announced, projecting his voice so the entire clearing could hear, "your eyes are strong like a warrior's but your face is gentle like a princess. Your ears are long and elegant and I think they're really cute." He drew a breath. "I have decided that I will marry you when I grow up. Please wait for me!"

Isveth's mouth fell open. "Huh?"

Before she could respond, a human girl the same age marched over and smacked him on the back of the head.

"You said the SAME THING to ME yesterday!"

"That's not true! I said your eyes were pretty, not strong! And your ears are much shorter! It's completely different!"

The girl smacked him again.

The boy fled.

Isveth covered her mouth with both hands, doing her best to remain graceful, yet... "Hahaha!" adoring laughter pushed through.

Felicity had gathered the older girls around her within minutes, and they were deep in whispered conference, shooting glances at the boys and collapsing into giggles behind cupped hands.

She fit among them so naturally that Alexios had to look twice to find her.

A tigerkin girl, barely four, wandered away from the group and climbed into Myrasyn's lap without asking.

She settled there as if it were the most natural seat in the clearing, then craned her neck far enough to look up.

"Your ears are really long," she said. "Can you hear really far?"

Myrasyn's hands hovered, not knowing where to rest. "Yes, but one day you might give me a run for my money, young lady..."

"I will. But..." The girl leaned back against the queen's chest and patted her hand twice. "Headpats please."

"Kyaa!!" Myrasyn squealed as her fingers settled on the girl's head, and she began stroking her hair with careful, trembling fingers.

Morgana stood with her back against a tree, arms crossed, turned away from the blankets and everyone on them. Dirt still caked her face.

Her commands forbade her from washing it off.

A small girl wandered over and tilted her head. "Your face is dirty."

"..."

She produced a wrinkled cloth from her pocket and rose on tiptoe, holding it up. She waited.

"Can I help?"

Morgana looked at the cloth. Looked at the child.

"..."

Nothing in her commands said she couldn't let someone else do it.

Then she bent her head forward.

The girl wiped mud from the Queen of Vraven's cheek with small, careful strokes, tongue poking out in concentration. When she finished, she stepped back and studied her work. "Better!"

Morgana straightened.

"..."

She looked entirely lost on what to do.

Gratitude wasn't her strongest of suits.

Then, her fingers moved through three precise gestures, lips forming words that hummed with old resonance, and ice gathered between her palms, violet and warm, spinning into a crystalline flower that caught the winter sun and threw tiny prisms across the girl's face.

She pressed it into the child's hands.

"Here. Now go."

15:41

The girl's eyes lit up. "Thank you, pretty lady!"

"..."

Felicity watched from across the blanket, and the smile on her face was the proudest she'd worn all day.

Quinlan caught Morgana's eye, amused.

"Stop staring," she hissed, and looked away.

A dwarven boy tugged at Elisabeth's sleeve. "Hey. You're wearing a Goddess thing." He pointed at the sigil.

"I am the Arch Priestess of-"

"Can you bless our food? Sister Mira does it every day but she says hers probably aren't as good as a real one."

Elisabeth looked at the blankets spread before her.

Elven children beside dwarven children beside beastkin children beside human children, crumbs on every face, milk on every chin, a beastkin girl getting headpats in the Queen of Elvardia's lap while a crystalline flower glittered in another child's hands.

She clasped her hands and bowed her head.

"Goddess who watches over all," she began, and her voice held steady, "bless this meal and those who share it. Bless the hands that prepared it, bless the children who eat it, and bless the ground beneath them that keeps them warm and safe." Her breath hitched. "No matter where they came from... may they never go hungry again."

When she finished, the dwarven boy nodded. "Thanks." He went back to eating.

Elisabeth sat very still. "This... Am I dreaming?" Then she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and blamed the wind.

Alexios sat at the edge of the blanket with his elbows on his knees.

A boy brought him a piece of honeyed bread, not because he recognized the king, but because the old man sitting alone looked like he could use one.

"Here, gramps."

Alexios took it. "Much appreciated."

The boy ran back to his friends.

These were children of his kingdom.

Freed from being slaves, or orphaned under his rule, during wars he'd presided over, slave hunts his ancestors endorsed and he didn't demolish, in a world he'd shaped for a thousand years.

They were here now because a man he'd called villain had built them a home where an elf could argue with a dwarf about what counted as food and a wolfkin could pour milk for everyone and a nun in dirty robes could be the first person every child ran to.

The bread sat in his hands. He took a bite.

It was bittersweet.

...

They entered Miri Town through its southern gate, and the settlement swallowed them whole.