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

"N. See you later, please"

Yeah, I'll see you later, and Arthur lowered his head to his waving opponent and then left the spot early on.

Knights Exercise Grounds. At a time when the stars were already dark enough to be seen, Arthur, who had completed his last exercise, returned straight to the Cavalry, its private chamber, which was in the practice area. In addition to knights heading to the dining room for dinner, there are few knights surrounding alcohol in their rooms and outside. Some return to their families' waiting homes without staying in the knighthood hall, or descend to the king's capital or under the castle just to go for a drink.

Arthur's business is none of that. I just knew I had to go back to my room right away. And Arthur, who had arrived in front of his chamber, opened the door as usual.

"... I knew you'd already come, Style"

I sighed.

Ha... exhale long and deep so that he can snort, go inside and then close the door and the key with his back hand.

He sat dignified in the middle of a large room, which was also soundproofed, assigned for the captain. Leaning to his elbow side with generosity on the only superior chair in the room, he sat with his feet together in front of pride, a transverse outfit rarely shown even in his own room. Already staring at Arthur with a fuzzy, rotten look as he raised his black edged glasses with his fingertips.

"I guess I called you to come. And you're the one who made him wait at this stage."

"You're more forgiving than the landlord. I didn't say to come."

Keh, and I dare to return it with an attitude that pushes Arthur away to respond as well, lightly spitting out the already grumpy style.

I'm used to the fact that Stayle relents first in his room, but it's rare to visit so far in a bad mood. And Arthur was already able to predict that it would be. He lowered his luggage to his usual place while returning it to Style's words, and hung only the sword on his hips to keep his uniform from wrinkling. Stile stared at Arthur as he turned his back flat and removed his armor as he returned himself dry in front, pointing only at his lips. Sure enough, Style hasn't told Arthur to "come to his room".

A word whispered to Style, who went back to the castle after school and left Pride's room to get dressed, had moved him so far instantly. But that's not a call.

"Tonight, after the exercise, I'll go back to my room once."

That was just one word.

I didn't ask you to wait in your room or come. But Arthur knew for sure that Steele would come to him from thinking about the day. And Arthur, who had already been invited by Alan to share information on "Let's Drink Tonight" as of the early morning exercise this morning, was originally scheduled to visit Alan's room without going back to his room after the exercise.

But I know from years of dating that if it's for sure Stayle talks, it's the two of us, not in front of Alan and the others. Not if you don't even talk to Pride about it.

That's why I went all the way back to my room instead of going straight to Alan's room, and if I came to hear about Stayle, my predictions were still middle-class.

Style returned to his room for bedtime and moved to Arthur's room for a moment, waiting for him until now.

"So? Why can't you tell Master Pride?

After removing his last armor, Arthur, lightened up, finally lowered his back to the simple chair he had provided as he threw his gaze at the style. Hang your arms on the back of the chair resting opposite each other.

To Arthur's direct ball. Stile turned his face once in disgust. Still not wrapped up in the sorting of feelings, Style is confused as to how far he should go even when he gets here. Arthur didn't force me to say it this time either. I know perfectly well that Arthur is a person who wouldn't even try to sound forced if he was going to hide it through. And it was also true that I came here to tell Arthur on top of that.

To a silent, grinding style, Arthur said, "Do you want to have a drink with Captain Alan and the others after this?," she gently invites. Besides, the stile opened her mouth slightly when she returned it in a motion that she did not know whether to bow or nod.

"... because I've had a lot of trouble on top of it. And it got worse along the way."

Style, who returns with a swollen, spiney voice, ends up speaking up early.

Worsening?? is immediately asked back, but turns away from each other with an uncalled for look.

"Sister, your head is already saturated with the prediction of Pradest. Even though there's a lot of strange accidents these days. Is there anything you can get into my situation with that guy? Besides, I even came in with the cloys on the way in.... Honestly, I'm about to burst my head too"

Ha... and I sigh heavily there and item.

A hand with a cheek wand on his elbow rested on him, and as soon as he did, he slipped up and held his head, not his cheek. The spread of the glasses in your ear rises and shifts. Still, I lean over with one hand holding my head.

The more I think about it, the heavier my body is, the more I seriously think about falling asleep in Arthur's bed instead of in this chair.

"I was surprised to see Powell... but I never imagined Amlet would be in the same class. …………… I don't want to get involved if I can"

At the end of the day he had a weak voice.

Arthur twists his neck to a roaring style that keeps his thoughts from getting caught up. I wonder who Amlet is that bothers the style so much.

At least he didn't look that troublesome to Arthur's eyes. She is a good girl who speaks clearly and doesn't feel any flaws of belly-black on her face when she talks. I don't know why Style wants to get so tired of that. I know if you just don't want to find out who you are, but I don't think Arthur can find any more reason to worry about it.

"What the hell is this? Amlet is yours. You're not a bad kid, are you?

"It's not bad. I know that, too. I understand, but................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ ……………… Amlet is…"

Round your back to Arthur's throw and get smaller on the chair.

Weak and groaning, he shook his head, finally holding his head with both hands, and the styles that messed with his neat black hair finally opened his heavy mouth to squeeze it out.

I can only tell Arthur at this stage. I don't want to tell you. And the fact that if Vest, the regent, or his parents knew about it and did it badly, he might be removed from inspection just for himself. And even more so, if I told Arthur, including the definitive speculation found only today, the eyelids gradually disappeared from Arthur's eyes. "Ha...?!" faintly with his mouth open, but more than that, in his head, he struggled just swallowing the story of Stayle. Finally, I finally put my question into words, "I'm out of words with N," but if I can beat that up with further certainty, I won't get a word out of it.

My head flashes to Arthur in itself, far more difficult than the cloys predicted from Pride. At the end of the day, I couldn't find the words to hang up even after Stayle had bracketed "... so I don't want to get involved as much as I can".

A short, long silence ensued, and Arthur even forgot how to blink. Styles with too rounded backs and dropped items make my chest a little lighter by being able to tell Arthur. Slowly correct your posture, unwind your legs, which were aligned like you were clear, and step on the floor with both legs. Then I took a deep breath, and then I peered Arthur upwards.

"... any questions?

".................. n a coincidence ah ah ah ah ah ah"

Arthur finally remembers the blink on the throw from the style.

He moved his mouth, which was open, and if he made a flat voice that was still powerless, Stayle closed his eyes and then shook his neck left and right.

"It's not a coincidence, it's my fault. It wouldn't have happened if we had thought about the later."

"No, it's the limit... if only you could read it that far even if you're a boulder"

Arthur also shakes his head as he shakes his right hand to the left and right.

I don't care what you think, Style is not responsible. All I can say is a prank of fate or bad luck. But at the same time, Arthur was convinced of all the inexplicable words and actions of Style in just one day today.

I couldn't help but find out, and Arthur, too many surprises in one day today, returns his words with his hands on his chest.

I really wanted to question my memory as to whether what happened today was really just a one-day event.

Now Arthur leaned down with his right hand against his forehead, as opposed to Steele lowering both hands from his head. Exhale a long, deep sigh, then stare at the floor and drop your shoulders.

"... something, wah no"

"I guess it's not about you apologizing."

No, something..., and Arthur, who didn't think of it as a project where Stayle would haunt his head so far in the corner of his head, reflects on it alone.

At the same time, I later cared that my attitude until I heard the story was too cold for the style. I don't give a shit there from the style, but Arthur hit himself in the thought that he should have cared more. That's how pitiful the style is right now.

"I can't... should I just keep you and Amlet out of this...?

"Please, if you can, I want to hide it from you.... in case you find out, I'll talk to you right from me"

Arthur, who slowly nodded his head like lead at the words of the style, rises out of his chair to break the curse.

Returning the words of recognition, he offered his hand to the style of sitting in an upper chair.

"I'll drink. Captain Alan and the others will wait in the room. Drink till it crumbles."

"... right"

Grab your hand over Arthur's hand so that you can bash it in momentum.

We need to hear from the Kingsguard knights and share the status quo. Even if you pull out what you revealed to Arthur, there are still mountains of things to think about, things to think about, things to hold your head to, things to think about, things to think about, things to think about, things to think about.

At least that's it. Stupid with the Kingsguard knights, Style sighed heavily again as he tried to talk to them. I exhale, vomit, and exhale all the breath in my body before finally using instant travel.

"Thank you for waiting"

If I and Arthur each multiplied that word, the three Kingsguard knights who had started earlier would have returned it immediately.

With no doubt whatsoever that Style and Arthur would be together, I welcomed them with a smile that I knew it.