Chapter 33: The Weekend

---Lions Keep---

--Grand Suite--

“Mother!”

*squawk*

“Ali, calm down!”

Huh, look at that.  Seagulls on the railing.

“He’s my husband!”

*crash*

“You are his third wife!”  Stating the obvious.  “Third!”  Loudly.

This is awfully high up for seagulls though.  Good for you mister bird.

“A month!  Dad’s not even gone a month and you are…”  Distraught.  “Are already…”

*sob*

“Ali, my precious Ali, your mother is so sorry.”

*hug*

“Why you?”  Confusion and disappointment.  “Was sister not enough?”

Today would be a good day to go to the library.

“Daughter.  Stop the naive act.”  Disapproving eyes.  “You know the strength of men.  Richart…  Your father left us weak, vulnerable.”  A loud sigh.  “We need strength.”

There’s books at the library.

“Eldest brother is already strong.  Surely darling is not-”

Books are good for, like, reading.

“No.”  Sadness.  “Geffroi and Heimer are meeting our retainers and vassals in secret.  Bribing, blackmailing, turning them against Hammond.”  Bigger hug.  “We… I need strength.”

Or, you know, if you got a wobbly table?

“But Luliene is pregnant now.  You said th-that…”

Books… Yeah.  Good.  Look at the feathers on that seagull.

“My dearest daughter.”  Looks in her eyes.  “A child will not be enough anymore.  She is a wonderful girl that your fearful brother still keeps as a slave.  Her standing has become… debateable.”

A young woman is wiping her tear streaked face.

“I am strong now.  I will be your-”

An older lady has her arms wrapped around the younger girl.  Comforting her.

“My precious treasure.  Yes, you are.  Yet you have many more years before you can stand alone.  Your brothers are strong, now.  Have their own heirs, now.”

They look alike enough to be sisters.

“No.  Geffroi will listen to me.  He has always-”

But they are mother and daughter.

“The Airnettes and Baramonts want their war.  Though with the rest of the kingdom uncertain?  Our house has become their best chance to have it.”

The daughter wears only a thin negligee.

“Mom…”

Just a bathrobe covers the mother.

“Forgive me, Ali.  I am a failure of a mother.”  Wipes her daughter’s cheeks.  “All this defeated woman can offer is her worn out body.”  Kisses her forehead.  “An inferior reward for a ducal consort but…”

“Mother…”  More tears.

It's Sunday morning.  Well, Ikzioi morning, but I just call it Sunday.  I’m standing in the Grand Suite staring at the horizon through the massive western window.

In my arms is the bathrobed chocolate angel, Lula.  Who is doing her best not to have a nervous breakdown.

You see?  Her world is falling apart.

Guess Blue’s spidey senses were tingling because she came flying into the bath not long after Lula and Mel, her mom, fell asleep on me.

And while she’s shared me with her sister-in-law, Lula?  Apparently her mother was “a bridge too far.”  Not surprised.  What kid doesn’t get grossed out thinking about their parents humping?

Well, except for momcon and dadcon perverts of course.

So, what followed?  Screaming.  Lots and lots of loudness.  Blue yelling at Mel.  Mel yelling at Blue.

And that’s when the “other shoe” dropped.

Like, just a week ago, Hammond having a baby?  Even if he’s not the daddy?  Was enough to keep House Chastel out of the feud between Airnett and Baramont.

Since then, Mel’s found out it's already too late.  Hammond never “freed” Lula.  Still refuses too.  Maybe the worrywart’s afraid she’ll leave him?  Well, whatever the reason.  He’s now, basically, fucked.

Gave me a flashback to Frankie insisting on staying a slave so she could not be “first” wife.  In Tourin, a slave cannot be the “primary” wife.  And a marriage without a numero uno spouso?

Can be interpreted to be no marriage at all.

And Hammond’s two younger brothers have spent a lot of time and gold convincing Chastel’s retainers and vassals that it should be interpreted that way.

So suddenly what no one cared about?  Everybody cares about.  And apparently Hammond would rather stick his head in the sand than risk Lula leaving him.

Behind me, on my big ass couch in front of the big ass fireplace.  Mother and daughter have about wrapped up their battle royale.

While the mocha skinned goddess in my arms, in front of me, gets paler and paler.

She was, is, a slave from someplace south of Aquecia.  Of course she wouldn’t know the finer details of tourinese marital law.

And I was a fucking idiot again.  Thought mommy duke jumping my bones was, like, a pity fuck.  Hey, getting laid is getting laid.  However you got there is all good as long as it's consensual.

But nope.  That cougar was out for the kill.

How would that even work?  Would she be wife number four?  Would I become her wife?  Fuck that.  I am not interested in all the baggage she brings.

Putting up with the nobles around here gives me a migraine.  Could you imagine a whole duchy’s worth of dumbfucks?

No thanks.

Okay, context.  Need to put things into context.

My neighbor, this county’s neighbor, is Chastel’s duchy.  Technically this is still Gilend’s county but none of the survivors from my purge have had the guts to step up.

If the Chastel’s rip themselves apart kicking off a succession war?  Refugees?  Bandits?  Deserters?  Plague?  More famine?

Sigh…

Wait.  Why am I giving a shit?  What am I thinking like a, well, lord for?  I’m not here for them.  Not here for me.  I’m here for him.  My son.  Got to learn this magic shit and buff up to put down whoever the fuck gets in my way!

…

But it's not just him anymore.  Is it.

Lula, Red, Frosty.  Three mommas to be.  And with what Mel’s saying?  Lula’s baby isn’t going to have a nice comfy upbringing as the Chastel’s heir.

Still don’t know how many are on the way from when I was Frankie’s “le sperme banque de beast.”  Sure, I had donated once or twice before.

Just never knew donations could be that “fresh.”

Nor do I recall isekai where the protag has more kids in fantasy land than back… yeah, home.

“Nine.”

Caught off guard, lost in thought, I turn to see my priest-wife in her favorite white silk nightie.  Thin enough for me to see everything.  Just how I like it.  My harem learned quickly that I am not a fan of undies in bed.

Of course Mel and Blue’s screeching woke everyone up.  A very different kind of screaming than they are used to sleeping through.

But what does she mean by nine?

Oh, the wedding rings…

The ones I fashioned by hand and shoved so much mana into that they sparkle.  Creating a sort of empathic link between their wearers.

Turning my attention to it uncorks a bottled tidal wave of sympathy, worry, and concern.  Yeah, we’re not reading each other’s minds.  But clever folks can figure out what you’re thinking.

And Frankie is very, very, clever.

“That many?”

Been about two months since my last “telethon” so any new moms to be should have noticed by now.  Wow, damn, I feel both proud and ashamed.

“Yes, master.  There were no pregnancies from the Saint Sanriel Miracle.”  She looks so composed.  Me?  I’m a wreck.  “Nine have been verified as pregnant from the Blue Lady Miracle.”

“Miracle?”  What miracle?

“Master…”  My short dusky skinned big tittie half elf looks so cute when she’s womansplaining.  Like a naughty teacher.  Damn.  Really need to get her and Lili glasses.

“You broke the unbreakable demon’s curse at Saint Sanriel.  Gave mana to the manaless Lady Alote Chastel here at Lions Keep.”  There’s that fanatical sparkle in her eyes again.  “Those are not powers of this world, master.  Proof of your divinity.”

She may be a religious wacko but she’s my religious wacko.

“And you are sure they’re mine?”

Wouldn’t be the first time a girl told me she was pregnant with my kid right after snogging.  Like, bitch, are you that desperate?  We just met tonight.

According to Lili, there are some grandmaster level spells that can tell, “You are NOT the father!”  Or that you are.  Not surprising considering the stakes involved with magic super babies.

Accurate though?  Do they haul out some oscillophore looking contraption?  Lili seems convinced it's accurate.  And it's not like child support or wage garnishment is a thing here.

Debtors prison and debt slavery is though.

“We will not be able to tell until after the child is born, master.”  Damn, sorry Frankie.

Know this is a rough subject for you.

Already looked through my [Recovery Magic] cheat and there is no “paternity test” spell.  Now I know Lula, Frosty, and Red’s babies are mine because I watched it happen with [Eyes of Ouroboros].

Was able to focus and watch the whole process thinking that would clue me in on how to fix Frankie.  Oops.  Uh, no, not fix.  Wrong word.  Maybe, repair?

Well, after the fun bit was over?  The miracle of life was like watching a soccer game with a net, but no goalie, and players that have had way too much to drink throwing themselves about.

In other words, a typical Liverpool match.

Oooh, gotta remember to tell Lizzy that one.  She’s a fan.

Hehe, and maybe this one too?

Would have bought a foam finger but I already gave her the finger, and it was foaming.

*smirk*

Yeah, no, don’t tell her that one.  In fact, let’s not ever tell anyone that one.  That's cool with you too, right imaginary friends?

Cool…

“My prince?”  “Master, what are you thinking?”

Both shorties are giving me perplexed looks.

Oh shit, be cool man, be cool.  Come on, focus.

“Uh, nothing.”

Hot damn!  Saved it.  Good job men.  Mission accomplished.  Its Miller time.

“Master…”

Engage spousal distraction technique 13B.  Hug, single appendage, prolonged, non-arousal.

*hug* *squeeze*

“Oh!  Nnng.  Master…”

Okay, maybe a little arousal.

Shifted Lula to my left arm and scooped Frankie in with my right.  Four knockout tits, and the hotties they are attached too, squish into me.  Just what the doctor ordered.

Lula?  She needs to be needed right now.  I can do that.

My prescription?  Nuzzles and snuggles.  With lots of refills.

Spend the next few minutes just standing there.  Comforting each other.  Lula has the hots for me, badly, maybe.  Frankie is both her senpai and sensei as Lula tries to find a place for herself in my cult.

So, hopefully, we are just the folks to blanket her in the support her heart desperately needs right now.

Geesh.

What a way to start a Sunday.

I thought eight day weeks, instead of seven day, would be easy to get used to.  Still keep stumbling over weird bits here and there though.

Like the school week.

Understood that the school week was seven days long and we only got Ikzioi, eighth-day, off.  Turns out we get “Saturday,” Tedoi, and Ikzioi off.

Sort of.

Tedoi is a “study day.”

Any class a student has issues with?  They spend their Saturday reviewing.  While professors and lecturers are not in the classrooms?  Teachers’ aids are.  Spending the day answering questions and reviewing.

The gym and arena are full of students practicing spells and skills.  Library packed with kids checking answers and boning up on subjects.  Even the cafeterias have gangs occupying tables while sharing expensive course books.

That is not what God made Saturdays for.  Where are the Saturday morning cartoons?  The doughnuts?  Cold pizza?  Warm beer?  Hangovers?

Or opening your eyes to discover you’re in exotic foriegn lands with mysterious alien sounding names, like, Cleveland.

And, if you got lucky, desperately trying to remember the name of the girl you woke up next to.  Patting yourself on the back if she’s pretty.  Swearing never again if she, well, ain’t.

While she just regrets every decision in her life that led to the moment of waking up next to someone like you.

*big inhale*  *big exhale* *majestic pose*

Saturdays…

I am clearly in a country of heathens.  A barbaric uncultured land.  One day I shall bring the light of civilization to these godless folk.  Deliver unto them the holy “happy hour” and divine “ladies night.”

Now, where was I?  Oh, right, the weekend.

Being a might confused I had Blue clarify things.  What we would call Sunday, Ikzioi, is an actual day off.  Kids spend it on the greens, at the gym, loitering in the village, or even take a taxi to the city.

It's only an eight-hour away, by carriage.  Faster on horseback.

Blue says the rich students go to Raelera Saturday evening and come back Sunday evening.  Gives them plenty of time to drink, shop, and play.  Hey, can’t blame them.

Pearlden is a very wealthy village, even has a public bathhouse, but it's still just a village.  There’s only 2,000 people in this burg, around three k while school is in session.

Hell, you’re not even considered a “town” in Tourin until your pop gets around five grand.

So a lot more to do and a lot more to see in the 100,000 strong Raelera.

Planned to take a trip myself this weekend and did.  Just ended up going for very different reasons.  Like helping lots of Metia’s minions meet her, personally.  Yes, I am just that nice a guy.

*ahem*

Look over my shoulder to see Mel and Blue have gotten up, are holding hands, and facing me with a determined expression.

Great, perfect, what could be better than making an old lady cry on a Sunday.

Yes, that was sarcasm!

“My Lord Barton.”  Mommy duke starts but she doesn't look very confident.  “We…  I…  Please mar-”

*slam*

All the girls about jump out of their skin as the main suite doors beyond the big fireplace swing open.  Hard.  I didn't jump because I saw them coming.  Well, the shadows did.

Hitomi comes marching through with Lizzy and Milti right behind.

My japanese high schooler?  Looks like shit.  Still wearing the sliced up blood stained clothes and armor she wore last night.

Was severely wounded but between my improving skills and her already accelerated healing.  She was back on her feet a lot faster than the rest of my girls.

The firearms used by the church fanatics bothered her.  A lot.  Even pointed out the barrel stamp that showed which arsenal they were made at.

Yeah “which” arsenal.  As in plural.  As in, the isekaied japanese nazis are making a whole hell of a lot of muskets.

That could be, like, super bad.

“Jon-kun.”  Wow she looks pissed.  “We need to talk.”

I’m guessing this is not going to be good news.

Great…