The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

“Please.”

Liya held the teacup in both hands. There was not a single flaw to be found in her etiquette. In fact, because it was too perfect, it created the illusion that one ought not offend her in the slightest, for fear of profaning that holy radiance.

With this human-shaped Holy Light practically smashing him in the face, Lorne’s whole body stiffened. Even when several Grand Dukes of the demon race had once surrounded him and attacked at once, he had been able to throw back his head and laugh. But now, he could not manage even something as simple as tugging the corners of his mouth into a smile.

If the person before him were only an ordinary beautiful girl, a junior, or some ordinary clergy member sent by the Church to negotiate, then Lorne would have happily accepted the tea by now.

But she was not.

She was the Saintess.

Holy, noble, adored by countless believers—the Saintess.

If this holy and noble Saintess had simply spoken with him normally, then as Duke Campbell, and a man with at least some understanding of etiquette, he naturally could have handled himself with proper restraint and calm ease.

But she had not.

She was serving him tea.

With a perfect smile, perfect manners, perfect warmth... respectfully offering him a cup of hot tea.

One had to understand—never mind something as obvious as serving tea, an act clearly associated with a junior toward a senior or one of lower status toward someone above them. Merely standing this close to a stranger, if outsiders learned of it, would be enough to provoke countless believers into jealousy or outright madness.

The mighty Lion King, the Duke of Campbell, whose name carried thunderous renown across the Empire and even the whole continent... Just imagining the scene of the continent’s innumerable believers all going mad at once made him shiver.

Can’t afford to offend her, can’t afford to offend her... How could his lowly, insignificant House Campbell possibly afford to...

“What’s wrong? Your Grace isn’t drinking my tea...”

Seeing that Lorne had not moved for a long while, Liya blinked her watery eyes, filled with the hopeful disappointment of a pitiful little rabbit.

“Is it because... Liya’s tea isn’t very good?”

“...”

He was past mere stiffness now. Even his cheeks were twitching. Even his beard was trembling.

The teacup was warm.

Lorne’s heart, however, was cold.

A question like this, one with absolutely no right answer, inevitably reminded him of when his own wife was young and had asked him who he would save first if she and his mother both fell into a river... even though both women were perfectly capable of chopping the river in half barehanded. He had still been forced to give an answer.

The current situation was roughly the same.

Good? Then why aren’t you drinking it?

Not good?

You bastard, you dare say the tea personally brewed by Her Holiness the Saintess isn’t good? How big is your house, exactly? Big enough to hold the spit of hundreds of millions of people?

“How could that be?”

After weighing everything, Lorne forcibly put on a smile, grabbed the tea, and drained it in one gulp. He did not even have time to savor it before raising a thumbs-up and praising it repeatedly.

“Excellent tea. As expected of tea brewed by Her Holiness herself!”

“Ah, thank you. I was actually a little nervous. I kept wondering what I’d do if Your Grace refused to drink my tea.” Liya patted her chest, obviously a little tense.

After all, this was her first time meeting Muen’s father. Without even meaning to, she had kept thinking that if she did something wrong and he disliked her, what would she do?

Thankfully, it looked as though Muen’s father was a kind and friendly person. He probably would not be like those evil parents in stories, becoming an obstacle on her path to love just because he happened not to like some little thing about her...

“Your Holiness.”

At that moment, An suddenly stepped in.

“You took the wrong tea. The cup you took just now was the poisoned tea I carefully prepared for you... You didn’t give it to anyone else, did you?”

“...”

“...”

Liya and Lorne both froze at the same time, and the air abruptly fell silent.

The two stared at each other. The warm, tender scene of a loving father-in-law and dutiful daughter-in-law suddenly became painfully awkward.

“It’s... it’s fine.”

After staring blankly for a while, it was Lorne, the “victim,” who recovered first. Before this could turn into an irreparable diplomatic incident, he hurriedly forced out another smile.

“Please rest assured, Your Holiness. That little bit of poison has no effect on me at all...”

“...”

Liya’s cheeks slowly puffed up.

Was this about the poison?

This was about her carefully prepared little white-rabbit image—cute, harmless, considerate—getting shattered!

She had originally planned to use this differentiated approach to leave a good impression on Muen’s father.

After all, of the women around Muen’s father, one was an iceberg and one was a shameless little seductress. Surely he would have a very favorable impression of a gentle, adorable girl like her!

Damn it!

Bitch!

Liya nearly ground her silver teeth to pieces.

You did that on purpose, didn’t you?!

She shot An a vicious glare, but An did not even raise an eyebrow. She merely folded her hands habitually before her lower abdomen and bowed to Lorne.

“Master, it has been a long time.”

“An, why are you here?”

Lorne’s hand jerked so hard he nearly ripped out his own beard, and his thoughts turned to mush all over again.

Why was the maid from his own ducal household over on the Church’s side? And judging from this scene, she and Her Holiness the Saintess seemed to have a relationship so “deep” that even open poisoning like this had gone unpursued?

Lorne’s gaze slid past An. In an inconspicuous spot behind her, that figure in blood-red robes—who looked suspiciously like the rumored Judgment Archbishop—had only been standing there with a smile the whole time, saying nothing.

“My failure to host you myself is truly my fault, Master, but I’m sorry—I currently have a task to carry out, so for the time being I can’t go over to your side.”

An dipped her head to Lorne in apology.

Of everyone present, she was actually the most relaxed. Lorne, as the true master of the ducal household, undoubtedly understood her temperament very well, and the two were quite familiar with each other. There was simply no room, as there was for the others, to “create” a good first impression.

“A task? What task? Don’t tell me that brat Muen asked you to—”

“You needn’t worry, Master. The young master didn’t ask me to do anything excessive.”

The corners of An’s lips curved into the dignified, gentle smile Lorne knew so well. But in her eyes, something flashed—something utterly unfamiliar to him, a chill like ice.

“He merely asked me to stay ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ beside a certain annoying person for the time being. Please don’t worry, Master. Once I’ve dealt with a certain annoying person, I’ll come back.”

“Hmph. You’ve got some nerve saying that.”

Liya folded her arms, huffing.

“I hope you understand your place, Sister Attendant.”

“Yes, at the moment I am only a Sister Attendant. But precisely because of that, I will always find an opportunity... respected Saintess.”

An smiled gently.

“After all, patience is an essential virtue for an excellent maid.”

“Anyone can talk big, Sister Attendant.” Liya sneered. “When I get back, I’ll punish you by making you scrub toilets. We’ll see how tough you still act then.”

“...”

Crackle. Crackle.

Though they were the Saintess and her closest attendant nun, when their eyes met, it was as if sparks flashed in the air.

Lorne no longer dared involve himself in it. Not only because of the Saintess, but because of An as well.

Before An had left the ducal household, she had only been an ordinary maid. It was only because she had secretly been hiding a measure of Divine Favor that he had arranged for her to remain by Muen’s side.

But when he had last seen her, An’s strength had already undergone a complete transformation. This time, it was even more exaggerated.

Lorne could clearly sense that her warrior cultivation had already reached the fifth rank, and was still rising rapidly. At this rate, in less than a few months... she would touch that threshold.

Dear God... what kind of freak is this? Why had he never noticed she had this sort of talent before?

That training talent was practically like... she had already trained through it once in the past, and now was merely advancing steadily again by following her previous experience.

Lorne even caught the faint scent of something ancient on An, and that aura was terrifying enough that even he instinctively felt a chill.

“Terrifying. This is just too terrifying.”

Unwilling to step into the conflict, Lorne lowered his gaze to the teacup in his hand.

And yet such a tiny cup of tea seemed to contain so many hidden meanings.

Anna before, and now Her Holiness the Saintess as well.

Lorne felt as if his brain were no longer enough for this, but vaguely, he could also sense that some invisible line connected all of it together...

Could it be...

Out of the corner of his eye, he looked again at the young women glaring at one another, and all at once, it seemed he understood something.

“I remember... Muen has the title of Honorary Templar Knight, doesn’t he?”

“That’s right.”

At his side, Anna smiled.

“I’ve heard he received it personally from His Holiness the Pope after helping the Saintess before you obtain her position.”

“...”

So that was it!

Lorne sucked in a cold breath. While cursing that damned brat bloody murder in his heart... he could not help feeling genuinely amazed as well.

That little bastard is unbelievably fierce...

He had known, in fact, that Muen had some connection with the current Saintess. But Lorne had assumed that connection was only at the level of a close female confidante.

What truly formidable man didn’t have a few women he was on rather good terms with?

But he had never imagined that, unlike his own level—which at most, at absolute most, amounted to only a little something here and there—Muen’s situation had already reached the point where... Her Holiness the Saintess practically wanted to marry straight into House Campbell!

Damn it. From the way Her Holiness had looked while serving tea just now, they had probably already done everything there was to do. And not only the Saintess—there was Her Majesty the Empress at his side, Miss Anna the Swordbearer, and even that grass right next to the nest, An...

Come to think of it, what exactly were they fighting over?

Could it be... the position of legal wife?

Hiss—

Are there more?

There were already four terrifying women of equal caliber here, and every single one of them looked like far more than the little fishpond that was House Campbell could withstand... Were there more people like this?

Surely... not.

Lorne patted his chest and consoled himself in silence.

That brat may have inherited a few traces of his father’s grandeur, but four sharks like this had to be the limit, right?

There can’t be more, right... There really can’t be any more!

My House Campbell... is lowly and insignificant!!!

“Lord Campbell, what is it?”

Celicia, who had temporarily let Liya and An continue their confrontation, suddenly looked toward Lorne, as if she had already sensed something strange about him.

“Did that tea make you feel unwell?”

“No... it has nothing to do with the tea.”

Lorne hurriedly waved his hands. Was she joking? At a moment like this, getting dragged back into the middle of it would be no different from courting death.

Even if he was the Duke of Campbell, even if he was the renowned Lion King, even if he was a powerful veteran Crowned... he still felt as though he was completely outmatched in front of these four.

He had no idea what that brat was using to keep these women in check. Wasn’t he afraid of getting chopped into pieces on the spot?

“I just suddenly feel a bit stifled. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine if I go out for some air.”

Lorne found an excuse and tried to slip away. No matter how this “war” turned out, the actual person at the center of it wasn’t even here, and all the pressure was falling on him, the father. He did not want to stay for even one more—

“Whatever are you saying, Lord Campbell?”

Suddenly, the Judgment Archbishop, who had been smiling silently from the sidelines all this time, finally spoke.

“The real business is only just beginning. How could you possibly leave now?”

“The real business...”

The corner of Lorne’s eye twitched. She was right. They had come here for real business.

“All right now, everyone standing around like this does nothing for harmony. Come, the seats are already prepared. Sit down, all of you.”

The long table for the meeting had long since been prepared before them. The conditions were crude, but everything that ought to be there had still been provided.

Only...

After clapping her hands, the Judgment Archbishop showed no intention of sitting down herself. Instead, she cast an even more meaningful gaze across the room.

The argument, at some point, had stopped. The atmosphere froze yet again.

Lorne was still standing there in confusion, waiting for the others to sit so that he too could take a seat...

But suddenly, he felt several gazes fall on him at once.

Wait.

Don’t tell me...

Lorne’s body shook, and he very nearly activated his Crown on the spot and bolted straight out of there without a second’s hesitation...

Not that he could get out, obviously. The Judgment Archbishop was watching him too.

And so, in that instant of stunned hesitation, the Empress of the Empire, the Saintess of the Church, the Swordbearer of the Silent Bureau, and the freakish maid carrying both a mysterious inheritance and Divine Favor all looked at him and spoke at the same time, in perfect unison:

“Lord Campbell / Your Grace / Duke Campbell / Master... you sit.”