Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 994: Unruly Daughter

Belonging.

She’d known she was part of this strange, chaotic, beautiful family... but only now did she feel it in full. Now that the crushing weight of fear and hatred and despair had been lifted, now that the man who haunted her dreams was reduced to nothing more than a near-corpse in a chair behind her...

She could finally see the picture. Clearly. Entirely.

Quinlan. Seraphiel. The girls. Her sisters. Her allies. Her heart.

All she needed now was her mother... and then, maybe, she could finally call herself whole.

Her gaze lingered on Quinlan. She said nothing more. Just smiled with every inch of her soul.

...

"Alrighty. Serika is going to stay in my Soul Realm for a bit, we have a new family member she’s getting acquainted with. Let’s not disturb her," Quinlan began.

"There’s a bit of time until the king’s birthday party begins. We have to focus on getting fitting dresses and, much more importantly, getting reliable artifacts that will cover our identities. Not all of you have to wear one, but me and the noble ladies do. Also, those of us who are known Consortium acquaintances..."

He glanced around the room and saw that his description involved more or less everyone. Ayame, Lucille, Serphiel, and Kitsara, high nobles. Blossom and Seraphiel were slaves registered under one ’Quinlan Noir.’ Aurora was the daughter of criminal alchemists who should be imprisoned somewhere in the kingdom’s royal territories. Vex and Jasmine, known Consortium members.

That left Serika, who could go without a mask without having to worry. And that was only because she didn’t exist in this world days ago.

"Haaah... Let’s just get a mask for all of us."

A round of feminine giggles sounded all around him when the girls saw their man realize he was quite a natural at picking troublesome gals to be his lovers.

"I want to come as well."

A sudden voice sounded. Iris, who’d been a silent observer of Jasmine’s revenge—and getting quite the flashbacks at her own while doing so—spoke up. The raven-haired woman stood from her sofa and walked over to Quinlan.

She looked up into his eyes.

"Oh? I didn’t expect you to be interested in overly luxurious parties of the ultra-rich."

"Wipe that amused grin off your face. I believe this might be a good opportunity to learn more, maybe my revenge can progress one step. The Ravenshade duke should be there. I don’t plan to talk with him, but perhaps just looking at the man will tell me if he’s affiliated with the scums of the Covenant of Eternity, whom I expect to be behind my family’s demise..."

It wasn’t the most airtight reasoning.

In fact, it was flimsy as hell.

But no one called her out on it. Because beneath the cold logic, it revealed something real: how deeply the death of her little brother still burned within her. She’d follow even the faintest trail of smoke, make use of even the minutest of opportunities, hoping it led back to the fire that destroyed her world. R𝐀𝐍Ȱ฿Ęṡ

Quinlan gave a sigh and reached out, intent on giving her a gentle pat. "Sure. I’d be glad to have you-"

But before he could reach her scalp, his head was swatted away, accompanied by an icy glare. "No headpats."

"... Can’t blame a man for trying. But, dearest Iris, you know the invitation was for me and my wives, right? I’m not sure how they’d react if I asked them to let in my warrior friend as well."

"..." Iris didn’t like what she was hearing. But then she realized one thing. "You wanted to bring Feng Jiai with you. Is that child going to play the role of your wife as well?"

"..." It was Quinlan’s turn to remain silent while he cursed the woman’s sharp wits out of existence. "So you’d rather play the role of my daughter than my wife?"

She nodded.

But then Ayame’s voice suddenly cut in from across the chamber with an insufferable amount of sweetness. "Daughter~! Come, let Ayame Mommy fix your unruly bangs. You’ve been brooding again, haven’t you? Boy troubles? You know you know you can tell your mother everything~"

The temperature in the room plummeted several degrees.

Iris’s entire body twitched. Her face contorted like she’d just bitten into a century egg soaked in sewage. A tremor ran down her spine.

"I..." Her voice cracked. "Refuse."

Quinlan put a hand to his chest with a dramatic gasp. "You refuse to be my daughter, you refuse to be my wife... Iris, you’re breaking this poor man’s fragile heart."

There was a long pause.

Then, through gritted teeth: "... Wife."

Quinlan cupped a hand to his ear. "I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that."

"I’ll play the role of your tenth wife if that’s what it takes!" Iris growled, eyes burning with a murderous glint.

Across from her, Quinlan and Ayame turned to each other and high-fived in unison.

"Well played."

Ayame smirked. "I figured you’d prefer this arrangement, so I thought, why not help you out? Especially if I can irritate this bitch while at it."

As the two basked in their teamwork, Iris stood to the side, her expression blank save for the icy knives radiating from her stare.

Daggers.

Icicles.

Pure death.

"If looks could kill..." Quinlan murmured.

"We’d both be very dead." Ayame giggled, unbothered.

Iris just growled beneath her breath and turned away in silence, her whole body trembling like she needed to physically shake the cringe off of her skin.

"I feel like a floating decoration. When are we going to the smithy?" Rykar’s unimpressed voice sounded.

"Don’t kid yourself, old man. Even an empty room would look much better than one where your ugly mug is used as decoration."

Many veins of pure irritation popped on the old man’s forehead. He’d have to get used to this new student of his who had a horribly big mouth. Back in Zhenwu, being his student was the greatest honor one could achieve, yet here...

Be that as it may, it was time for Quinlan’s crafting journey to begin!