Walking down the corridor by Helena's side felt as nerve-wracking as preparing for a fight.
Or for this whole ordeal, that was the king's Ducal Tournament.
She attended the first event in full ceremonial garb, making her a rare and magnificent sight.
In her flowing dress and hairdo, Konrad wouldn't have recognised her without help. The greyish knight who was impossible to tell apart from her guards was now a sparkling princess.
Well, not that he was in his usual, everyday clothes, either.
The armour, sure. But blinged out by a new dragonscale plating and polished until it could put mirrors to shame. Excessive, if anything, but it had to send a message to all the other nobles.
"I still can't believe you slew a dragon," Helena muttered as they approached the grandstand.
"Me, neither," Konrad smirked—because he didn't. "But she didn't appear since, and my new gear tells me I slashed some vital parts before she vanished."
"She?"
The princess raised an eyebrow, walking towards the light at the end of the corridor.
Of course, he said too much already.
"It's my humble guess, at least," he mumbled, scolding himself on the inside.
"Oh? No need to be so humble now, Lord Halstadt," she noted, slowing her steps. It was her turn to smirk. "Or should I call you Haiten's Great Dragonslayer Prodigy?"
For someone who forced his hands to take action, she sounded—
Jealous? Annoyed?
"Konrad will do fine," he said, stopping at the end of the long corridor. "And please don't bring it up with the king. Or his next quest might be to subjugate the entire world to prove myself."
The princess burst into laughter, slamming her frilly dress before regaining her composure.
"You don't have a high opinion of your ruler, I must say," she noted then, but kept on her mischievous smile. "He already knows—but it'd be hard to bring it up when he's not here yet."
Konrad was about to step out into the sunlight and meet the crowd, but he paused again.
"He isn't?" he asked, eyebrows raised in mock offence. "Why would his majesty miss the opening of the very tournament he ordered me to organise today?!"
Not that it was news to him.
He also spent his time and resources gathering intelligence.
And to try to make it look like he didn't.
"Not your fight," she said with a shrug. "Who cares about a bout between two southern dukes?"
"From all these noises, I'd say quite a few people," Konrad noted, leading her the way. The arena was sure packed to the brim, and to him it meant profit. "I've put a lot of silver into this."
"And the outcome is impressive as always, Ser Konrad," the princess laughed, taking his hand.
Gabrielle waited for them outside in her usual blue dress.
Although it might have been fancier than how he remembered it.
The archangel was as gorgeous as his other haremettes, but today, she shone the brightest.
He could already hear the jealous voices in his head, despite his best efforts to block them.
Maple he could manage, but Lily wasn't as easy to cut off.
And when she was mad, she always made sure Konrad was aware of it.
'Come on, you know you're my number one,' he thought to calm the demoness. 'Gabrielle isn't even my type. And it's not like I'd steal your brother's liebling in front of this crowd, either.'
Looking at the huge gathering while leading Helena, he realised the mistakes he'd made.
'Oh? So without the audience it would be fine?' Lily's angry voice echoed in his mind. 'And to remind you, that tribal blacksmith is still not a sibling of mine. I'm an interdimensional—'
'Yes, yes, your demonic highness. My apologies,' Konrad cut her short.
He was getting the hang of this telepathy business—or rather, multitasking while doing it.
'What I'm trying to convey—I've five beautiful women, and you are the best among them by every possible metric.' He knew all too well how to please her.
And also that switching to this formal language would still make it annoying.
It worked every time.
'It's still not fair. You enjoy the view with the angel and the princess, and I work myself ragged in the pits.' Lily complained. Her job of healing the wounded promised to keep her busy.
But not as much as Konrad would be.
'Have you seen those projections over your head?' he groaned. 'As a reminder, Helena forced me to broadcast everything. Inside and out of this arena. Everywhere in Aset.'
That cost him a lot of mana.
Ever since that zombie-themed battle royale, he became the victim of his own success.
The princess found him with one outrageous request after another.
How was he supposed to fight without using magic, and also keep up the broadcast? Not to mention the advantage it would have given him, seeing everything, all at once.
'She told you to bring Zoltan here to cover for you,' Lily reminded him.
But the thing was—he had already sent a messenger to his old master, getting no reply.
'He might be mad because Gabrielle's plan exposed him,' Konrad thought. He took his place right by the Guest of Honour's seat. It was empty for now, with the king still absent.
The princess and his would-be wife sat behind him, exchanging courteous greetings.
Down below, the two companies of men-at-arms were about to line up.
A hundred men each, while he only gathered seventy-two, including himself.
'For a notorious scammer like him, an event like this is a gold mine, though,' Lily noted. Her earlier rage fading from her thoughts, her curiosity spiked. 'Wonder what he's up to.'
'I sure hope they didn't jail him yet,' Konrad thought as well. 'I'd feel bad for him if they did.'
He couldn't call Zoltan his friend. And since he learned everything by himself, calling him master wasn't fitting, either. But he was an asset, and despite his personality, a decent man.
If he weren't this busy, he would've visited him in Eytjangard himself.
Now, he could only guess what happened to the illusionist, as the first bout was about to start.
"Any favourites?" Helena asked, leaning close to his ear, and Konrad almost jumped.
"Of course," he replied once he regained his composure. "The Rogue Rejects," he said, smirking.
The fancy champions down below assumed battle formations.
"A gentleman doesn't bet on his own horses," the princess noted, rolling her eyes. "And I still can't believe you approved of that silly name. They're your personal guard, representing you."
"And that's exactly why." Konrad shrugged. "Wait 'til the crowd begins to chant it."
Some of the nobles gave their men-at-arms cringeworthy names—
Holy Dragon Wings and Mighty Southern Swords—the two, facing off down below.
And it didn't fit them at all.
For one, he couldn't imagine anything holy about someone's wings like Maple's.
Meanwhile, the 'Swords' carried spears into the upcoming battle.
At the very least, they did seem mighty, he had to give them that. His money was on them.
But it also concerned him.
"To beat those guys, we'd have to play dirty," he said, his voice lost in the cheers as the two sides began to advance. "But with a name like ours, nobody will have the right to complain."