Yuria

Former royal capital, Rebeck. The administrative chamber of the palace.

Nonstop, people come to Yuria—third slave.

“Slave-sama, delivery’s done. West Block—did it all myself.”

“Yuria-sama, found this flower on my way back. Wildflowers blooming all over the southwest grasslands of Rebeck.”

“Give me more work. Don’t mind me—I’m still got strength.”

They come, they talk, they bring their tasks, their words. Old, young, man, woman—different every time.

But one thing’s the same.

They’re all devoted to her. Want to work for her.

Yuria gives each one her orders.

Since the time when the Goddess still ruled as king, she’s been entrusted with nearly all the nation’s affairs—her mind, her judgment, her will.

That hasn’t changed.

Now, as the world is reborn, she’s the one running it.

Yuria quietly kept giving orders.

Her followers, eager to please, worked tirelessly at her side.

That was Yuria’s everyday life in the reborn world.

☆

At the witching hour, just before dawn, Yuria finally signed off on the last document after hours hunched over her desk.

She stood, stretching—finished processing everything for tomorrow’s noon, and now, just a little rest.

She rubbed her shoulders, then headed toward the sofa.

Thought she’d catch a brief nap.

The moment she settled onto the cushions, the door creaked open—soft, deliberate, as if aware of the hour.

From the crack, a woman cautiously peeked in.

Yuria remained seated on the sofa, her gaze turning toward her.

Djana. Not Yuria herself, but the woman who’d arrived with the air of a half-intrusive, half-loyal wife, had now firmly settled into the role of Yuria’s secretary.

That much is obvious—Risha is utterly devoted to Yuria.

“W-w-wait, sorry, Lady Yuria. Did I wake you?”

“…What?”

Yuria didn’t seem bothered in the least. Her voice was as calm and flat as always.

Diana let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, then stepped into the office and stood before Yuria.

“I brought the report, written out. Should I go ahead and submit it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Understood. Um… lately, strange things have been circulating.”

“Strange things?”

“…Well… drawings and stories… about men and women… you know…”

Diana flushed, struggling to continue.

“…And actual devices used in the act…”

“…I see.”

“It could lead to moral decay. I think we should crack down on it. That’s why I came to ask you for permission.”

“…Fine.”

“Huh?”

“Leave it. It’s fine.”

Yuria answered almost without pause.

“Huh? You’re just… leaving it alone!?”

“Things like that only happen when you’ve got time. Peace in the world gives you that luxury.”

“That… I suppose that’s true.”

“Peace leads to evolution, too.”

“E-evolution!? More than now!?”

Diana stared, head tilted, at Yuria’s calm expression.

Yuria didn’t know the details—so she tilted her head in confusion.

But even without knowing, she believed in her own theory, and nodded quietly.

“Yeah. You don’t know it now, but peace means it’ll become more than it is.”

“Uuu…”

“But—”

“I understand. We’re leaving it be.”

“Mm. Anything else?”

“Nothing else. I’m fine now.”

“Hmm…”

Yuria nodded, letting out a long breath.

After a full day of duties, body and mind drained, she finally relaxed here.

To Diana, it was obvious—Yuria was utterly spent.

"Madam, perhaps it's time you rested..."

"...Yeah."

"Right, I'll have some warm milk prepared. Drinking that before bed really helps with fatigue."

Saying that, Ziana turned to leave the office.

For the sake of her beloved Yuria, she wanted to do anything she could to ease her exhaustion.

She didn’t say it aloud, but the bed in the bedroom had already been made, and a soothing scent known to aid recovery had been lit.

She was about to step out of the office, having done all she could, when she suddenly noticed—Yuria’s quiet eyes were fixed on the window outside.

"...?"

"Madam?"

What was she looking at?

Thinking she should help if there was something, Ziana turned to look outside too.

But then—

The royal garden outside the window shimmered.

No, it wasn’t the garden glowing. Something else was descending from the sky—like light falling from above.

“What… what light? Ah, where are you going, my lady?”

Reaching out to Yuria, who turned and dashed away—just for an instant.

Diana pouted, lips pinched in a frown.

Then, almost immediately, sighed.

“Of course. What else could it be?”

A sigh of resignation from Diana.

The light—Yuria racing toward the descending master, as if fatigue had never touched her, smiled.