The Queen’s Cosmetician

Die rang his throat.

"I can't"

"Have it done"

"What kind of idiot can tell his queen to sell his country to his neighbor, hey!?

He was poked at the tip of his sword in front of him, and Die jumped up his verbal butt. Cold sweat unknowingly tells the winding cold air of steel.

"Of course, you can take all of you hostages and force Mariage to make a decision."

With a gentle voice as if to teach the child, Serenesty cut it out that way.

"But this one doesn't want to bleed pointlessly either. Think it would be easier for Mariage to understand if you told me. [M] You know?"

Transfer your gaze from the sword to Serenesty.

"Do that for what? Get the country...... what are you going to do?

"After you survive, I hope you find out with those eyes."

"Is it to be a champion?

Is it to hold everything in this western continent in your hands?

Like the mazembre of - …….

"To find out the answer, I want you to do the big part. I don't think that's a bad condition for you. I promise I will protect your brigadier as much as I can."

It must be about the Asmas.

Their safety will be assured once they have been merged. Yes, Serenesty suggests.

Then what will become of those who were not protected?

Fumi Die remembered that Perfilia was staring at Clan Hive. We are in a truce now. But it's not strange whenever the battle resumes. Then the people of Die's country will be sent to the front line first.

Mariage can't be safe either. It is unlikely that the kingdoms of the defeated countries will peacefully close their raw.

"I can't."

Die returned no to the Queen.

"The imitation of selling one's own country goes against my doctrine"

Serenesty shrugged, yes.

"I'm sorry."

Her fingers draw a ring to the universe. Like the conductor of the orchestra.

Using that as a signal, there was another load on Die's neck. The right hand is pulled out and secured in the form of a forward protrusion.

The blade swayed with the vision of a die distorting his face to the pain of bone crunching.

"Still, you're a tinier kid than I thought.... Hey brother, even more so now, this is the Queen's favorite makeup artist, are you sure?

"No doubt about it."

To the dittrout I assure you, the queen snorts.

"Well, okay.... Well, I'll give you back a piece of you under Mariage"

The sword was restored.

"Can you tell that she looked at her beautifully boxed hands and was wearing makeup on herself, which is yours?

"Her Majesty Queen Serenesty is a great hobbyist."

"You're a good man, aren't you?

"Yep. You seem very nice."

Serenesty laughed as the die threw up all over the irony.

"When I find out whose hand it belongs to, I'm going to let the reward see your body. Have you ever seen Mariage where people get slaughtered? If I burn your body into thin pieces, I'm sure I won't be willing to defy you."

"Is my queen one of those things that depresses me?"

Die rang his throat in a snort.

"If that guy finds out he's been insulted, he doesn't hate the other guy to the bone marrow, he's the one who writes down what's been done in his notebook and gives it back 10,000 times to the end,"

They offer me the neck of a twisted die, threaten me to be your friend, and even if I play it for the sake of my country for a time, I will all slap that hand back.

No, cut with a blade.

Die's master is a proud queen. Cry to your own helplessness, and even if you waste your time saying you can't, any of them will stand up at the end.

Is it something that gives in cheaply?

"You're strong."

"Until you state the facts!

"But death is horrible."

"Well...! Is it horrible......!

"If that's all you're crying about, it's not convincing."

Die bit off his lower lip. The tip of the tongue is salty.

Serenesty covered her mouth and sneered.

Next to her, the shadow shakes.

Ditrout was judging the hem of his jacket and slowly descending the stairs. Step on the carpet laid upright and he starts walking this way.

And his pale eyes froze, and his eyes that dwelt not in colour were dark, like the sea at night.

His contours of the statue seep white in the vision of the die.

Die kept staring at the man as he embraced the heat gathering behind his nose. Drops overflowing from the scratch, burning and gliding like fire. Did you hurt your lips or the taste of iron spread on the tip of your tongue?

It's not scary, Die thought.

I just hate it.

I was still trying to believe this man because of my own childhood.

I wanted this man's saving hand again. My weakness.

The moment I thought I could finally get sick of this guy.

"Die still likes Heath."

My own heart screamed.

Hate, hard.

I can't wait.

A man stops his leg.

It is a reflex, and confirmation of its expression will not come true.

"Phew"

A young man who was silent waves his sword according to the Lord's call. The soldier behind him adjusted the position of the die's arm so that he could wrist easily.

"Ask again"

Serenesty asks.

"Are you going to follow this one?

"None."

Die answered resolutely and instantly.

"Yes.... too bad. But it's an experience. Be sure to show it to me."

Serenesty included.

"Give me a moment when your wrist is severed and your vision stains bright red!

Her silk-wrapped fingertips show the conductor's movements.

From beyond the blade flashing it on the signal, the man's pale eyes captured the figure of a die.

Lights are also mostly unlit rooms, and steel trajectories shine brightly.

(not frightened)

If it's true, on that rainy night, I think it was already dead.

The sky is cleaved and the wind pressure rocks my forehead.

"Follow me, till the end"

The Lord's voice flashed after this, and Die apologized in his chest with a bitter smile.

(sorry)

-... but.

The shock I was prepared for did not come to the die.

The fearful confirmed opponent is still connected to the arm.

There is sharp pain. However, it is not so much a severe pain. The wrist has a line running to the side and blood all over it. But that was it.

Die raised his face. The cutting-edge of the sword, which was just around the corner, was facing the day after tomorrow. Did you plunder the skin? Or did you just break the wind pressure? Whatever it is, I'm relieved if the sword was swung down with the momentum as it was.

"Your Majesty"

Ditrout looks back at his master.

He had his arm in the armpit of the man holding the sword of the sword. The youth's arms remain in the universe in a bounced form.

"The more you play, the better."

Serenesty waves at the words of the Chancellor. The young man put his sword in his sheath and stepped back.

Ditrout turns his back on the die and begins to go back the way he came.

"Ah..."

(Heath)

I'd like to call it off.

I didn't have a good voice.

"Phew"

Youth rise to the call of Serenesty. This is the first time Die has recognized that he is known as Ji.

"Show that makeup artist to the special room."

"My pleasure."

The queen looks down at the die and bends her mouth corner.

"It's okay, I don't think you're uncomfortable, do you?

A climbed-out ditrout of stairs offers Serenesty's hand. She put her own hands on there and even started walking with her brother.

Two shadows disappear across the veil.

Shortly after the opening and closing noise of the door sounded, Xu pulled up the arm of the die.

Why.

Did you get knocked out?

All the roles you were asked for, you said you pushed.

The die returned to me with the closing sound of a door that said shah.

The metal noise caused by the lock echoes twice and three times. After locking him up, he walked away without even a glance at the die.

Serenesty's words were not lies, but the cells that served as places of confinement were wide and small and beautiful. in a room with no windows. The ceiling is high, with multiple vents and thought holes. However, they were covered with nets. The wall is tilted toward the center and its surface is smoothly machined so that it cannot be climbed. I can't even remember a slight scratch when I let the wall pass on the tip of my finger.

Near the floor is engraved with sorcery rituals, bright and glowing. Its pale light was illuminating the disposed conditioner. Sleeping area with mounted shelves, writing desks and luxuriously thick blankets. A kettle for excrement is rolling at its feet.

Avoiding the kettle to an uninterrupted location, Die sat on the sleeping table. It's not a bad building for a barista. Looks like a room in an upscale inn lined up in the back town. If only we ignored the sense of obstruction and the noise of the door.

They say there are similar cells in the basement of the Royal Castle in Del Ligueiria. It's a special cell for keeping the most important people locked up for a long time.

A stiff one touched his foot, and Die peered under his sleeping table upside down. Something long winds up like a snake. After staring at him, he decided that it was a chain that was also as thick as the baby's wrist, and he was even more distraught.

I just couldn't get through, should I?

Should we rejoice that there is life in the first place?

Die lay down on the bunk and exhaled from fatigue.

Apparently, the room is equipped with an air-conditioning procedure. It doesn't even seem to freeze. But the cold iron door blocking the entrance and exit, and the dense darkness spreading beyond it, the painful silence of the ears, relentlessly diminished the spirit.

Though mild, there are injuries, and fatigue wraps around the body.

The demon tells us that it is an inscription near dawn. Nonetheless, my eyes are full and I can't seem to sleep at all.

On top of that.

(I'm hungry...)

I haven't spoken of anything since noon.

Die, who closed his eyelids to indulge in the discomfort of sitting in his stomach, breathed out bitterly into the figure of the man floating behind him.

Ditrout.

He kept his mouth shut like something he wasn't there while Die “looked” at Serenesty. The eyes staring at the die were also cold itself.

Even so.

At the end of the day he saved the die.

Die desperately praises his heart, which is about to tremble with joy.

(Something, there must be a reason)

If Ditrout had saved the die out of sympathy, the Queen would have leaked her dissatisfaction on that occasion.

She didn't. I pulled back lightly. I can only assume that there was something about Die that just wouldn't kill him.

But what?

A white bandage covering my wrist gets into my eyes. He was assigned here before he was imprisoned. The smell of the applied medicine stuck to my nose.

I don't mind leaving it alone. The wound was treated for a reason.

Not out of temper.

Never.

Die tells the expectant eye girl (Deanna) again with her knees.

The girl with the knee squealed her nose.

The moonlight eyes flatter and shoot a die.

Die pushed her far away, waking up her body.

Take off your jacket and hook it up to the back of your chair. I relaxed my collar, took off my shoes, went up to the bedroom and spread my blanket. Attract it to your chest.

For one thing, it is now a prerequisite to sleep a little and keep your health warm.

Lay your body on the sleeping table again and press the hardness of the pillow with your head to make sure. Satisfied with its feel, the lid is firmly closed - …….

… and.

Die breathed in the sound of a punch in his ear.

Push up the lid and wake up the body. But there's no sign of anything moving. There is no such thing as originally moving. The interior is still quiet.

Die regained his mind and lay down on the bunk. Wear a blanket from your head and give yourself up to sleep.

And…….

Clearer than earlier, the sound of rigidity echoed.

Consciousness awakens at once.

Die whispered and probed the audio source. The sound is ringing from outside the iron door.

This one, this one... this one...

Footsteps.

It's not the sound of military shoes. Footsteps, too, are covert. I am careful not to let the shoe strike me.

This one......

Footsteps gradually get closer.

Gosh......

To the lid, stopped.

The door that divides this room from the hallway is made of thick iron. Supply openings were provided at chest height, with a lattice window at the top.

Hold on to that thick iron fence and someone is exploring how the die looks. A thin shadow depicts the figure on the floor.

“The man."

I see why.

The sound of the shoe carving, the breath, or the signs themselves, tells us that the visitor is him.

"-... Deanna"

The air trembled.

Die whispered. Grip the blanket. Enjoy the urge to scream for what purpose.

Eventually, I heard the sound of turning back my heel.

Similar footsteps to when you come keep your shoes away. Die stepped out of his bedroom barefoot and stuck to the door.

The gripping plaid is slightly warm.

Press your cheeks against the window to gaze.

Admit a white shadow over the edge of your vision.

The figure disappeared swallowed by darkness, as it dissolved in fog.