Chapter 346

When Layali woke up, she didn't move a muscle. Her eyes blinked and she stared up at the sky, memories of the previous day descended on her like an avalanche, and she had only one question.

"Why am I alive? I cut my throat… I cut my throat and I'm alive. Why am I alive?" The small child demanded of them both.

Brain and Zesshi traded a glance, Layali turned her head only just a little, enough that she was able to see them directly and not only out of the corner of her eye. Her relief was colored by her own fear of the unknown, and her small frame seemed even more vulnerable now that she was confronted with something she had no answer for.

"Do you know what 'talents' are?" Brian asked.

Layali furrowed her brow, "No."

"So you've never met anyone with them?" Zesshi asked.

"I mean, I knew a boy who was a good player with instruments. A girl who could sing, a couple who were good at dancing… but that's not what you mean, huh?" She asked.

"No, no it isn't." Brain closed his hands together in front of himself, "Talents are things people are born with, not everybody, but some. Some are useless, there was a man I knew once who could place one foot on air and walk on it like it was solid ground… but that's it. He couldn't go any higher or move any faster. It kept his feet dry, at least. But it was a mostly useless trick. Others are very useful. I was born with a sword talent, I never had to practice to master any technique, I even surpassed the man who defeated me. I was just born gifted. And another, he was able to breathe underwater. And now… there's you. You… can't die."

Layali had only one thing to say to that. "Brain… Did you hit your head?"

"He's being serious, Layali. You should have bled to death in seconds last night. That was a clean cut with a sword enchanted for bleeding damage specifically from cuts. You should be dead. And with the monster before… that tore open your femoral artery. That kills grown men in less than a minute or two. And from what Brain says about your condition when you met… any one of your injuries should have killed you long before he found you." Zesshi insisted, then approached the girl and put a hand on her shoulder.

"So why am I still bandaged, why am I not healed?" Layali demanded to know, doubt clouded her eyes, and Zesshi exhaled deeply.

"We said you can't die. Not that you heal quickly." Brain replied to her and followed after Zesshi, he went to the opposite side of her, crouched down and took her hand. "The body will always try to repair itself, even with fatal injuries it will try to fix itself until it dies. But yours… doesn't die. Poison from that monster, head wounds, drowning, stabbing, slashing, infection, internal…" He shut his eyes as he recalled the tearing of her tiny body that Cerebrate had done, "Internal tearing, all of these failed to kill you. Essentially… your body will more or less always be able to fix itself. I don't think you'll regrow limbs but… a bone break, a torn artery? A cut throat? All you need is time. Your body will mend the bones, reconnect flesh, filter poison, and make more blood."

"I…" Layali stopped speaking as soon as she began, horror settled in on her eyes. "Then… if I had remained with Master Cerebrate… then he could have…"

Zesshi covered her lips with two fingers. "Don't think about that. He won't survive much longer. He's not anywhere near here and will never get you again."

"But if… if anyone else, if anyone else gets me… I can't even escape by dying… this isn't a talent… this is a curse!" Layali shouted at the dawn, her eyes going back from one to the other, and the next question occurred to her. "Why'd I do that… I didn't… I wasn't trying to die… I swear!"

"A cursed sword. It was a trap." Brain explained, and if Layali's eyes could have gotten bigger, they would have.

"A trap meant for me. Whether it's targeted to half elves, or whether it's targeted toward the elf King's descendants and he's your grandfather or something and we really are family… I don't know. But it was meant to make me commit suicide and you got caught in the trap, the moment you drew that sword… so this… was my fault. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm glad you've got this talent or… or you'd be dead now and it would have been all my fault… is that selfish of me…?" Zesshi asked, and when Layali looked at the shimmering eyes of the half elf, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry.

"Kinda… but the good kinda… I'm glad I'm not dead now… but this?" She put a hand to her throat, it was painful to talk, "If anyone gets me again… please… don't let anyone get me… don't… if anyone gets me I'll never get away… if I hadn't got in that river and Master Cerebrate hadn't been in a hurry… he'd a got me and I'd have all that pain an I'd still be his an no way out no way out no way out…" Her arms went up as the existential horror came back to her, now coupled with the knowledge that death was not a path of escape for her, it made it all the worse.

Brain clutched the girl into his arms and looked past her shoulder to where Zesshi rose to her feet. 'The Theocracy wouldn't think twice about using a nonhuman child to get to me. They wouldn't think twice even if she were a human, for that matter. Even I know that much… if we want to keep her safe, we can't keep her at all.'

Draudillon entered the chamber of the Allfather with her heart throbbing in her breast, in all her life she'd never entered the bedroom of a man, and given the circumstances… she couldn't even pretend she was entering it as an equal. With her eyes closed, she briefly imagined him as a libertine, waiting in bed, perhaps a bottle of wine poured into a pair of cups, his fingers curling and summoning her to save her nation… as in some of the worst novels she'd ever read.

Or as the tyrant, the villain ready to reveal that he was behind the invasion of her country, the puppeteer and she was merely dancing on the strings he pulled before he cut them.

Or as the cold bureaucrat who demanded she prove her country was worth saving and he had no interest in her as a woman at all… that was arguably the worst, as it left her with no leverage at all. It also seemed closer to the truth than she wanted to admit. Albedo's dismissal of a royal marriage seemed utterly final, and the battle maid monster hadn't even suggested offering herself as part of the bargain.

When she opened her eyes, she found something far more ordinary at work, the Allfather was at a stone desk. It had a hinged panel that came down to offer ample space to write, but clearly it could be just as easily closed up. There was a small statue of a raven carved out of obsidian sitting on the top, just where the panel would connect when it closed up, and a handful of documents remained near at hand. His eyes were roaming over one paper, and to Draudillon's surprise, his wives were standing nearby.

"It's done." Ainz said and affixed his seal to a paper. He handed it to the Holy Queen, who leaned beside him and affixed her seal in turn.

"My husband, my lands are yours, and my people are yours. Our Kingdoms are now one in every way." Calca clutched the document to her breast as if it were a child that desired embrace, she arched her back and closed her eyes while turning her face toward the ceiling.

"That was so, the moment you married him. This just seals the trivial details." Albedo pointed out, and Calca opened her eyes and gave a little smile at the demoness.

"Royal sister, in the theater of my birthplace they have a saying, 'The play is not over until the last gasp, nor is the song till the last note.' What it means is that until then, anything can go wrong, and frequently will, and at the worst possible moment. Now there's nothing left but the prosperity to come."

"Should I have visited at another time…?" Draudillon asked as she watched the scene play out before her.

"Now is as good a time as any." Ainz answered with a polite wave toward an empty seat, while both Calca and Albedo stepped out of the line of sight between the Allfather and the Draconic Queen. "We had negotiations to settle after all, though I'm surprised you want to do them now, you've been through so much, if you want to wait until after the elf King is dead…"

"No." Draudillon insisted, and steeling her resolve she said, "If I could offer myself in marriage, as Calca has, I would do so. You wouldn't be the first emperor to make wives out of the women of many nations… but you're… different. Things are different, circumstances aren't the same…"

She sank to her knees. "I'm in no position to negotiate. My reputation is ruined, I couldn't even protect my maids from the elf King. My country likely wouldn't exist at all if it weren't for the aid you already gave me, and even the clothes I'm wearing are given at your discretion." She lowered her face to the floor and cast her arms forward. "We are yours to do with as you please. There is no need to negotiate. My country is yours, I surrender. I surrender and beg that your divine mercy fall on your servants in the Draconic Kingdom."

"You are not a prisoner here, Draudillon." Ainz said while his mind scattered to the winds. 'What just happened here?' He asked himself as the Queen he so admired, cast herself at his feet. "You are rescued."

"The Allfather is gracious." Queen Draudillon's voice was a little louder, it had to be as she refused to raise her forehead from off of his floor. "I pray that graciousness extends to my homeland. But while I am not a prisoner in name, the truth is plain for me to see. Negotiations are pointless, and I am no longer willing to play games, to pretend I have leverage that I do not. Tell me what you want, and if it is mine, then it is yours."

Ainz looked down at the one offering herself as a supplicant, even as she was, it was difficult not to admire her, her voice never wavered, and though she must have been frightened, she didn't so much as tremble.

'Why hasn't he said anything…?' The Queen wondered, she could feel his eyes on her. "My people… they're hard workers, great artisans… when the beastmen are gone, we will raise monuments to your glory in every city."

"I don't care for monuments… I prefer to be known for the peace of my rule." Ainz explained, though he kept his voice as even as he could, he reached for a blank piece of paper and handed it to her.

"Just… write what you believe should be on there." Ainz said, and Draudillon raised her head, when she saw it, she shot upward, took it, and rushed to the desk where he sat. Calca moved aside and watched the Draconic Queen with a mix of sympathy and curiosity in her chest.

'I half expected him to jump at the chance to add to his harem… as women go she may not be as beautiful as I, but she's not without her charm… almost on par with my Kelart.' The Holy Queen's mind turned to her closest confidante, who no doubt lay strewn out on the bed they shared, waiting for Calca's return.

Here in Nazarick, nobody cared what they did, it was the freest either had ever been in all their lives, and they reveled in it completely.

Draudillon however, didn't share the same comfort, at least not as Calca could tell. 'Poor woman… even rescued… it's still a defeat. To surrender so completely as if she'd lost a war to him… well, he is a good ruler, it could be worse. I wonder who he'll arrange for her to marry?' The abstract thoughts came more naturally to the Holy Queen than they once did, and she caught sight of the Allmother looking in her direction.

It felt as if her mind were being read, or perhaps, as the radiant Calca's eyes held fast under the Allmother's stare, 'We're horses on the same track…' She realized, and their thoughts aligned to one another so well that at the same moment, with the same dispassionate smiles on their faces, they watched as the foreign Queen scratched quill over paper.

"There." Draudillon said. "The Draconic Kingdom surrenders unconditionally to the Allfather and the Kingdom of Nazarick, the Queen binds herself and all her heirs to the service of the House of Ainz Ooal Gown, and recognizes his Godhood without question or reservation."

The Queen reached for a small blade used to slice wax seals, pushed the tip to her thumb until a bright red drop appeared, and then after replacing the tool, she squeezed the thumb to bring more out. She then pressed her thumb to the document just beneath her signature.

"By the custom of my Kingdom, I bind my word by my blood, you are my god. You are the master of my life and my lands. Command me." Draudillon replied, and went to her knees at his side.

Calca and Albedo glanced at one another again, in one fell swoop the Queen who had nothing to bargain with, put herself as the first Kingdom to acknowledge the divinity of the Allfather. With the date on what passed for a treaty, it wouldn't fail to be recognized. Not unless royal honor came into question.

Ainz affixed his seal to the document in return, while privately wondering, 'What… just happened here? Did she just call me a god?' He took a slow breath and hoped he looked majestic when he took 'Kingly understanding gesture number three' and placed his hand on Draudillon's shoulder.

"Rule well, that is my command. And for now… get some rest. If you are ready, tomorrow we resume the journey to Arwintar. If not, you can remain here and I will bring you by [Gate] when the time comes."

It was soft words that followed, formal and quiet, the Queen of the Draconic Kingdom said, "No, my lord… if your servant's title is still her own… then it is her wish to travel with the others, even if she must depend on your largesse to carry her again."

"Then we'll have a carriage ready with the others." Ainz promised, and removed his hand to allow the Queen to stand.

When she did, Calca said sweetly, "Welcome to the winning side."

"Th-Thank you." Draudillon said as she made her way out.

"Husband, if there is nothing more, I believe my Kelart is growing impatient." Calca licked her lips without noticing that she'd done it, and Ainz chuckled.

"I believe Albedo is feeling the same. Go on." He said, and Albedo chuckled as Calca made her exit, the door closing firmly behind her, leaving the Allfather and Allmother to fall into an embrace in private.