The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen Who Will Become the Source of Tragedy Will Devote Herself for the Sake of the People

"... help me, give me... eh"

Stayle visited at a time already late at night when the date had turned around.

Arthur, who waited for him while organizing his room until then, can't hide his amazement at the style that finally showed up. The truth is, Arthur, who had decided to feed him one of the "late" headbutts at the very beginning of the opening, but I lost my mind about that at once.

It's too painful, to look like him.

The color of his eyes was less cloudy than when he met him during the day, but his eyes were red, congested, and his eyelids were obviously swollen. On top of that, the void remains the same. There were still traces of tears on his cheeks. Dropped shoulders and sloppily lowered arms seemed separate from his usual.

"What's up...?

It's quite a thing for him to cry.

When I realized it, I asked before choosing words.

I know what happened during the day. I am the party.

I knew immediately that the look of Style, who had come to me for help even then, was too weak and terribly cornered. Was anything still happening after that or is it the result of what has accumulated so far?

Not even sure of that, Arthur walked over to the style with a quick leg as he looked back, placing his hands on both of those shoulders. Still facing Arthur with his eyes only still with his jaw pulled, Style flinched easily even with his hand just resting on his shoulder. Furthermore, as soon as he touched his shoulder, Arthur noticed with that feeling that the style was quite twisted. As she tried to keep asking the wrong place if she was eating properly, Style quietly released a trembling voice.

"Ugh... it's the limit..."

As I ran out of words, Katakata and Style's arms trembled shoulder-to-shoulder.

He also shook Arthur's hand, which he had placed on his shoulder, and it was no longer contained.

Limits......? And to Arthur, who listens back small, the style leans down. "I'm sorry," he muttered small, and now he keeps his words out of sight.

"Mine... I'm the impudent one... not only in pride, but even you...! Because of this... I could have been a knight because of this..."

Fits the trembling voice, and now the jaw also trembles out.

Arthur shut his mouth to a painfully revealing penance. To Arthur, who returns nothing, Stile meditates his eyes all the time without being able to raise his face thinking it was still not something to be forgiven.

"Until now... every time I... run away, I want my sister back on the move for a moment...! … but……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Even when I thought I was betraying him... I couldn't stop him.

Little by little, to Style trying to explain the situation, Arthur asked only "why" in a low voice without stopping.

On that question, Style grips both fists. My shoulders vibrate out unnecessarily clammy because of too much force. Slowly raising his right hand as it was, he tried to hold it down and hit his own heart.

"" A subordinate contract……………… "

Pic, and now Arthur's shoulder shook once.

Arthur, a people of the kingdom of Friesia, was also well aware that man, who would be royal brother-in-law, would exchange subordinate covenants. However, it was also a presence that I had almost forgotten about on the style that never made me feel the load from the contract before.

"I can't get away from you more than a certain distance...! And I can't betray you...... when I admit that this is a betrayal of my sister, I can no longer resist..."

The effect of the contract is absolute. And I can't even disarm it for life. Its absolute potency was understandable even if Arthur looked at Val and didn't like it.

"So... I can't stop you..."... my uncle told me to send a knight... "... and if I do that, my sister will be disturbed..." I didn't want to be officially dispatched to anyone or the Knights.

By the way, I drop my eyes at the tip of the gaze of the bent style to the distorted voice and way of speaking.

Drops were falling on the floor patterned as they shook off on his badly shaken shoulders and jaw. Arthur ties his mouth hard as he pretends not to notice it. I didn't have to ask how desperately Style had stood around to hide his pride now.

"Yahh... you, the only one I could count on... can stop you from being my sister in that condition..."... I can trust you with... eh...

I can't trust anyone, he said. Reminds me of the words Style used to speak.

Even when he invited Alan and the others to the Kingsguard, he made it clear that there were only a few believable people.

That's why I could also easily imagine how lonely and nowhere to go in person the last two months of Style has been. Arthur eats and binds the back of his teeth and listens silently to the words of Style, whose whimpers mingle.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...! Still,... my sister, your lead's stopped, Adam's been captured, but there's no evidence... and the contract interrogation still needs time...! I've come up with a new approach today, and it's finally...

Even in my voice, it's gone.

I swallowed my mouth once and wiped my face with my sleeves. Breathe heavily, swinging his trembling fist down to Arthur's chest without force as the words continue.

"Honey... I wanted to put my chest up for you..."

I got a lead, I found a handle, I cornered him, it's your turn, it's okay now, he was just moving under the water, he said.

Whatever it was, I didn't want to see Arthur until I could stick my chest up and tell him what was going on.

The day after Pride fell, I grabbed Adam's tail and missed a big deal. Furthermore, I could only convey desperate information that pride might no longer be like this. Even then, the Radiyan Empire stopped just suspicious.

Just because you detained Adam doesn't change anything unless you let him throw up concrete evidence or facts. Besides, Pride's condition just got worse every day. I couldn't do anything, and I didn't have the courage to look at Arthur's face and say that I could only look at Pride's rampage with my fingers crossed. Furthermore, I was afraid that Arthur, who was sensitive to people's handling, would "be noticed."

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I keep apologizing as I lean down to the floor with a trembling voice, and Arthur...

Gum, gum, gum, gum.

He then struck his head with his forehead.

"Heh heh..."

I hold my head unintentionally by the severe pain of too many accidents. I don't even know if it's Arthur's fist or head thrust or stone-throwing to shock and pain. I endured so much pain eating and tying my teeth that I wondered if I was bleeding.

Wait a while, until the pain subsided, Arthur didn't say anything either. Only some rough breath clearly reached his ear as well, still holding both shoulders of the style tight.

After the pain subsides a little and the thought can afford to turn around, the style raises its wet face intact in fear of something. Then.

"Hang in there, baby."

Arthur, whose face turned bright red with anger, was there.

Arthur, eating and tying his critical, peeling teeth and exhaling rough on his shoulders, was burning his pale eyes bright red with anger.

Too many Arthur shapes and unexpected words reveal black eyes that have stopped crying. As his shoulders bickered up and down, and he stiffened himself as he was pressed by the hegemony, Arthur breathed up again loudly after a whooping, beastly breath.

"You've come a long way, and you're going crazy to die for him! Look for it, bear with it. The toughest thing that's happened in the last two months is Temehe."

My hand grabbing my shoulder is so forced to feel the pain that it is even shaken to say it with yelling.

Gakun's face shook, but Arthur's words shook Style's emotions so much that it didn't matter.

A face that bites through his mouth so that he can finally indulge in what has stopped, and cramps as he stays conscious with pain, his pitch-black eyes can't get away from Arthur.

"Oh, come on, if it hurts, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.

There is no word for Arthur, who abhors his voice violently.

Style honestly seemed to think that Arthur's words, which were too straight, were natural to him, not social dictum or consolation.

"Temei, you're strong, you're out of your mind, you have power, you care about your pride, and you've always protected him, and you can't help it. In a situation where you can be cornered, you can count on me. When can you count on me..."

Gunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

The glasses were not broken by the familiar maneuvers, but the vision of the style swayed gras and brain by brain.

Now hold your forehead with one hand, eat and bind your teeth to pain. But I didn't feel like complaining. Words released from Arthur echoed far more throughout his body, and apart from the pain, something hot crept up from the back of his throat.

Arthur slowly lowered his hands with a rough breath and his shoulders were finally released. Pain and fever remain on both shoulders of the style for a short time after the pressure of the hands has disappeared.

Arthur, whose breath was disturbed for a while because he yelled all at once, held the fist of his right hand so that he could continue to breathe with the heat of his body before this time beating him. Keep it up. Grab every eagle in your hair the head of the style that ties your mouth together with your left hand staring at you. As soon as there was strength in his shoulder reflexively as he was beaten, his face was raised further, and he was aligned to pierce the caught pale eyes straight into his open eyes.

"... If you have something to say, say it.

Arthur's face was now more distorted worryingly than angry.

That was more Arthur's heart than his partner in a mental state that wore him out no more. Style's tremors increased again to words whose earlier yells were gently uttered like lies.

Though he thought he was unrivaled, pitiful, and still treated like a child, this time his throat stuck to the feeling that something could be solved that kept him stiff.

Thinking it was after they had seen me cry anyway, what I had enjoyed excessively loosened up, and when my face was distorted, it overflowed from my eyelids again.

Arthur, who easily sees through no matter how much he fixes it, is reminded that it's really useless if he doesn't mean it no matter how much he endures and dresses. If I opened my mouth slowly to my voice, that was already a tear.

"... but give me..."

The first word I said leaks again.

When I finally tried to spit it out with my trembling lips, my chest ached badly, not to mention the fact that it was worded.

"To that guy,... there's one more reason I can't get close to him,... there's...

Arthur takes his breath in the pompous and trembling words.

I made my ears clear that there was a question and a sincerity on the part of Style to ask so much for help, other than the reason that he couldn't betray his pride.

"If I keep this up, I'll... give you pride... give you pride..."

At the same time my right hand trembled unnaturally. I tremble so gaudy and creepy. And Arthur peeled off his eyes, too.

Style put his strength into that fist and struck him in the heart to shut up. Still in his trembling hands, he finally spewed it out in words.

"... give me pride... eh... kill me, I will... eh... eh"

He meditated hard and had zero tingling earaches from his eaten teeth. He drew his breath as he made a terrible noise, and at the same time another overflowing tear transmitted his cheek.

To that voice unleashed in bitterness, in words. Arthur recalls a message he previously received from Cedric.

"I can't be beside you anymore. I'm sorry I missed my promise.... I don't have a face to meet you '

Still long before Pride pointed out betrayal, he left the Style unattended. What does that mean?