A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Heart Kingdom]

[Pulchritudo]

[Banquet]

"Interesting. Very interesting," Iphigenia said at last.

The words were simple, but it was clear that she was not merely being polite.

She lifted the elegant glass in her hand and took a dignified sip, the vessel looking as though it had been designed specifically to hold some rare and outrageously expensive vintage reserved for royalty.

It was, in fact, filled with nothing more complicated than grape juice.

Paimon noticed the difference but chose not to comment on it.

Instead, she continued watching the princess from across the booth, her head tilted slightly beneath the red hood. Iphigenia’s expression remained difficult to read, and Paimon found herself wondering whether the princess had genuinely found what she had said interesting or was simply being courteous.

"You really think so?" Paimon asked, tilting her hooded head a little farther to the side. "I mean... I guess I just kind of feel like I’ve been venting this entire time. I wasn’t exactly sitting here thinking, ’Wow, I’m telling a really compelling story. ’I was mostly just trying to explain what happened."

There was sheepishness to her voice by the end.

Iphigenia lowered the glass.

"I don’t give away empty compliments," she replied. "I’ve found that idiots tend to mistake them for genuine praise, and once they get a little of it, they start walking around with their heads so far up their own asses that there’s no getting them back down."

She set the glass upon the table with a click.

Her pale, slender hand then moved towards the plate resting nearby. A dozen round pink pastries sat upon it, each one decorated with delicate swirls of white icing. Iphigenia selected one between her fingers and regarded Paimon over it.

"So, when I tell you something is interesting, I mean that it is."

She took a small bite.

Even while chewing, she somehow maintained the same dignified bearing she had displayed throughout the banquet. Once she swallowed, she continued.

"Suffice it to say, hearing about a religion that is so foreign to this kingdom is certainly interesting. I have heard enough sermons, doctrines, and political interpretations of Iofiel to last several lifetimes. Something outside of that is, at the very least, different."

Paimon considered that for a moment.

"Well, foreign religions are pretty rare, I guess." She rested her hands together in her lap, thinking aloud. "I kind of thought someone like you would be more angry about it, though. You’re a princess of the Heart Kingdom, after all. Most people around here seem to believe in Iofiel, or at least act like they do."

Iphigenia scoffed.

The dismissive sound was sharp enough that Paimon briefly wondered whether she had said something wrong.

But the princess’s eyes made it clear that the reaction had not truly been directed at her.

"There’s more to this world than Iofiel," Iphigenia said. "There are far more deities than the one the kingdom seems so determined to place at the center of everything." Her fingers tightened slightly around the pastry. "I know that all too well."

For the briefest moment, Paimon saw something change in those red eyes.

The princess did not raise her voice. Her expression barely shifted. Yet the irritation was obvious, mixed with something considerably more aggressive—an anger so concentrated that Paimon could not immediately tell what had caused it.

It was not the mild annoyance Iphigenia had shown towards the nobles downstairs. This was more ’genuine’.

Paimon watched carefully, but she did not ask.

She had the distinct feeling that whatever memory had surfaced was not one the princess particularly wanted to discuss.

Iphigenia seemed to realize the same thing herself.

She slowly shook her head, almost as though physically trying to dislodge the thought from her mind. Her red eyes lowered towards the pastry in her hand before she took another small bite.

When she swallowed, her composure had returned.

"But your particular religion interests me," she said. "More than I expected it to, admittedly."

Her gaze returned to Paimon.

"I would very much like to see this church."

Paimon’s eyebrows rose.

Iphigenia continued before she could respond.

"I can’t say that I understand religious people very well. The devotion, the rituals, the willingness to structure one’s entire life around something one cannot necessarily see..." She paused, considering her own words. "Perhaps I simply don’t understand it because I’ve never had the inclination to."

She took another bite of the pastry.

"But my curiosity outweighs that lack of understanding."

Paimon smiled somewhat.

"Well, it’s nothing fancy." She rubbed the side of her cheek with one finger. "Seriously. It’s a pretty old church. Father Nicholas doesn’t exactly spend much money making the place look impressive. He’d rather spend whatever he has on food for the people who actually belong to the church than on fancy decorations."

Iphigenia considered that.

"Admirable," she said after a moment. "If not a little foolish."

Paimon’s expression shifted.

"Foolish?"

"Perhaps not foolish in intention," Iphigenia clarified, "but certainly impractical. A charitable institution that spends everything it has feeding people rather than maintaining the place itself is going to attract those who understand how to exploit generosity."

Her tone remained matter-of-fact.

"That is a very reliable way of attracting leeches—people who have no faith, loyalty, or intention of contributing anything themselves, yet are perfectly willing to accept whatever is placed in front of them."

Paimon frowned.

"That’s a bit harsh." She leaned forward slightly. "I mean, sure, some people probably take advantage of it. I’m not stupid enough to think that doesn’t happen. But a lot of them aren’t there because they’re trying to steal anything. Some people don’t believe in the church and still need help."

Her expression became more earnest.

"Being hungry doesn’t become less painful just because someone doesn’t believe in the same God you do. If someone’s sick, they’re still sick. If they don’t have anywhere to sleep, they’re still homeless. If they’re desperate enough to come asking for food, I don’t think it matters whether they can recite a prayer."

Iphigenia listened without interrupting, then she tilted her head slightly.

"Let me hazard a guess." Her tone became more thoughtful. "Most of those people who so desperately require that assistance are demi-humans, aren’t they?"

It did not sound like a question asked from genuine uncertainty. It was more like a conclusion she had already reached and merely wanted Paimon to confirm.

Paimon’s brow furrowed.

"Yes." She studied Iphigenia’s face. "But what about it?"

The question came more cautiously than before.

"I suppose that’s not particularly surprising," Iphigenia mused. "We humans do have a rather impressive capacity for hubris, don’t we? We see something that belongs to us—or something we believe should belong to us—and somehow convince ourselves that gives us the right to decide what happens to everyone beneath us."

She finished the last of her pastry with a small, dignified gulp, lowering the delicate piece of food before setting what remained of it aside. Her red eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded Paimon across the table.

"But I suppose that particular failing doesn’t matter much to me right now." She paused for a moment. "What I’m curious about is what you’re actually prepared to do if the Duke decides that your church has offended him and turns his wrath toward it."

Paimon blinked.

"Well..." She hesitated, then offered what sounded to her like the most reasonable answer in the world. "I was just planning on asking nicely."

There was no deception in her voice, she seemed to genuinely mean it.

Iphigenia stared at her.

For several seconds, the princess said absolutely nothing.

Then, with the same blank expression she might have used to comment on something extremely mundane, she said, "You’re considerably stupider than you look."

Paimon’s eyebrows rose.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I mean, I know what you said," Paimon replied, visibly confused. "I just don’t understand why asking him nicely is stupid."

Iphigenia’s expression remained flat.

"You do realize what sort of man you’re dealing with, don’t you?"

Paimon hesitated.

Iphigenia continued before she could answer.

"A man like that isn’t going to look at a beautiful young girl walking into his estate and see only an opportunity to have a reasonable conversation. Especially not after you’ve made yourself interesting to him."

Her eyes remained fixed on Paimon.

"He’ll want your body."

Paimon’s face immediately flushed.

She looked down, suddenly finding the table far more interesting than the princess sitting opposite her.

"Y-yeah..." she admitted quietly. "Someone already told me that." Her fingers shifted awkwardly against one another. "But there’s surely another way, right?"

Iphigenia watched the embarrassment settle over her before answering.

"You have far too much faith in men." The words were not particularly cruel. "More often than not, when a man like him is offered something he wants, he expects something personal in return. And when the person offering it happens to be a girl like you..." She gave a small shrug. "The Duke isn’t going to suddenly develop principles."

Paimon swallowed.

"Not everyone is like that..." The words came out softly and even Paimon seemed to recognize the weakness in them. She wasn’t really arguing with Iphigenia anymore, she was trying to reassure herself.

Trying to hold on to the simpler possibility—that if she explained the situation properly, if she was polite enough, if she approached the Duke with genuine intentions, then perhaps he would respond in kind.

Iphigenia noticed.

"That kind of hope is going to bite you in the ass eventually," she said.

Paimon’s eyes lifted toward her.

The princess’s expression had not softened, but something about her tone had.

"But..." Iphigenia reached toward the plate again and picked up another pastry between her fingers.

She examined it briefly before taking a small bite.

Then she rose from her seat with the pastry still in hand, smoothing her dress as she stood.

"I’ve become invested now."

Paimon looked up at her.

"Invested?"

Iphigenia took another bite, chewing calmly before swallowing.

"Yes." She glanced down at Paimon. "You’ve managed to hold my attention longer than most people here have managed tonight. I would rather not see that become boring because some overindulged Duke decided to make your life unnecessarily difficult."

She turned slightly, preparing to leave the booth.

"So I shall help."

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