Runa was a Ranger, and because of that, because she was born with black hair in the wrong kingdom, she was used to dangerous situations. All the same, she had never neglected her training.

But after a certain incident, she had finally decided to pursue her desires. She had a very dangerous goal in life, and it had felt like the right time to finally go for it.

Runa loved harpies.

She had read about them in storybooks, stolen from the children of wealthier families. An all female species of bird-like monsters. With the appearance of elderly women and the voices of angels, they were monsters who danced in the clouds. Flocks of them teased dragons together. They loved mischief and were always involved in some kind of trouble.

About a month ago, Runa left on a journey alone. Just north of the Orc habitat in the Western Black Mountain Forest, the trees gave way to arid land. The sands below were home to nagas, a race of snake-like monsters, and the cliffs above were for the harpies.

She traveled to those cliffs, braving all kinds of danger—including the weather. She entreated the harpies to let her live with them, but unlike the Orcs, they couldn’t understand her words.

For her trouble, at least they understood she didn’t come for a fight, but her reward was a small cage littered with bones. Runa was a harpie’s pet.

She still didn’t understand much of their chirping language, but she had at least learned her owner’s name: Chitrathia.

The harpie with oily black feathers swiftly landed at the mouth of her cave. Usually, harpies lived in nests of three, but Chitrathia had kicked out her two roommates because they kept teasing her pet.

Runa held her arms and shivered from the gust of cold wind. She was dressed only in strings of bones and feathers, so she was quite sensitive to temperature.

“Annoying humans,” Chitrathia chirped after landing. Runa strained her ears to understand as much as she could. “Helping the humans of the filthy river, with their bows and arrows. Hmph. The broodmother is wise, so I obey, but I can’t wait to tear their little heads off after this silly war.”

Chitrathia hopped over to her pet, staring at her with wide, stupid eyes. The harpie reached a taloned hand between the cage bars and ruffled her head fur.

“Cute pet. Would you like one of their skulls? Your cage still needs more decorating. Human skulls are pretty.”

“P-pretty?” Runa chirped unsurely, fingering one of the feathers that decorated her. “Feather pretty…”

“You like feathers, pet? Like them more than bones?” Chitrathia stroked her pointy chin. “I will bring you more. Right now all the feathers are dirty because the stupid humans made the water dirty.” The harpie squawked and stroked her feathers, hissing when she found a bug. “I want a bath! It does not rain! Only south does it rain.”

An old feather came loose as Chitrathia groomed herself. She brushed it clean as best as she could and handed it to her pet between the cage bars.

“Here, a feather. Say thank you, human. ‘Thank you’.”

Runa took the feather carefully, eyes round. “Th-than hiu?” her tongue slipped and she butchered the harpie language. Still, Chitrathia smiled and patted Runa’s head.

“Sometimes being stupid makes you cute. Good human.”

Feeling better now, Chitrathia saw the war in a more positive light. “At least we will fly south to help the filthy water humans. There will be lots of rain. The broodmother is wise.”

While Chitrathia chirped to herself, Runa marveled at the first truly successful communication between herself and a harpie.

I can do this! Right now I’m just a pet, but if I keep learning their language, maybe they’ll accept me someday.

She had never realized that Chitrathia herself could understand the human language. The bird was lazy and couldn’t bother to reply in a weird language if she didn’t have to.

But it was thanks to her interpretation and strange hobby that the Ranger girl was still alive. Perhaps that counted for something.

***

After doing nothing for so many hours, Inari quietly opened the carriage door and hurried her.

“The coast is clear. Get out, put this on, and follow me.”

What am I, illegal contraband?

That was what it felt like because that was essentially what she was. This was very possibly the first time a Monster had been smuggled into the royal palace.

Vyra escaped the cramped confines of the carriage and covered herself in what was essentially a burlap sack, laying down in a cart as instructed. Despite how gently she folded herself into Orc origami, the grain cart still had a much thinner axel than the carriage, and it snapped under her weight.

“Your majesty…”

“Shush,” she whispered, conjuring a temporary set of sturdy, stone wheels and affixing the broken wooden axles to them. “It’s fixed, just go.”

Inari was much stronger than he looked, but Vyra still helped magically turn the stone wheels to make the cart look lighter than it was. They passed by what she imagined was a kitchen and possibly some servants’ quarters, and finally she was allowed to stand up in a dusty room with several large wine kegs lying sideways against the wall.

Inari held up a cloth for her to wear over her eyes. There was no way of knowing if they were under surveillance, so she played along with all the smoke and mirrors her spy was dragging her through.

With the cloth tied firmly, Vyra heard sounds of something grinding, and soon they were moving again. Inari held her hand and guided her through some series of narrow passageways.

The warlord reminded herself to be patient. This was all for a noble purpose.

Finally, she heard more grinding sounds, and she was allowed to remove her blindfold.

They were standing in some sort of guest room. Somehow, it looked unused, even though there was no dust to be seen. Speaking of, Vyra reached up and brushed cobwebs out of her hair, taking off her crown to rub it clean.

“We can speak here,” Inari said. “This is the room where you’ll be staying. I’ll bring you food and water as needed. If you need to go anywhere, like the bathroom, I can show you around after dark. You’ll meet the king here tonight.”

“I’m excited to see what human cooking tastes like,” Vyra said, testing out the bed. It was wide, but too short, and it creaked worryingly. She clicked her tongue and conjured her own nest bed, testing how the rest of the furniture held up under Orc royalty. The answer was not well.

I feel like I’m in a museum, surrounded by art that looks like chairs, but the sign says “don’t sit on the exhibits”.

She missed Babylon, which grew itself with creatures of many different sizes in mind.

Inari left to do who knows what, and Vyra spent her evening redecorating with proper stone and metal furniture. She copied the techniques of Babylon to make soft mesh cushions out of earth element materials, and she had a rather livable space by nightfall. It was nice that she didn’t have to worry about the ceiling height or living area. From a common human’s perspective, it must’ve been just an ostentatious waste of space, but even this unused guest room was quite large with a high ceiling.

Finally, Vyra heard sounds out in the hallway that had been silent all this time. She had been avoiding using her so she would be able to notice something like this, and to keep it as a hidden card for later, perhaps.

But there was a chance this wasn’t the King, so Vyra stood quiet and listened. She had never turned the lights on in the first place, and they were still off now.

The footsteps she was hearing stopped in front of her innocuous doors, and they opened to reveal a middle-aged man wearing fluffy robes and a crown. There were no guards with him, so Vyra guessed that Inari was hiding somewhere nearby.

The tense silence dragged on a bit too long, and Vyra noticed sweat on the king’s brow, so she smiled softly in an effort to ease his nerves.

“This is quite the unorthodox meeting, isn’t it, Lord Andorin,” she said humorously.

As a Queen, she imagined she didn’t have to be too ceremonious with a fellow monarch. Perhaps that was the appropriate decision, since the human king quickly gathered himself back together.

“That it is. We can never truly know what will happen in life, I suppose.”

He brought himself fully inside and shut the door, taking just a moment to remove his hand from the knob.

“I’d like to compliment your palace,” Vyra said, sitting herself on a shiny, oversized couch. (She wasn’t sure yet how Babylon changed the colors of various metals. She would try to find out the next time she interacted with the living city’s core. “But I haven’t seen anything except for this room.”

“Forgive our lack of hospitality,” the king said, sitting on an ordinary fabric couch opposite her. “We required all possible discretion in order for this meeting to take place.”

“I understand,” Vyra nodded, suddenly wishing for a bowl of mint tea. “So let’s get straight to business. The harpie threat is relatively small, but it’s still possible for them to cause disruption in your kingdom. I naturally don’t want our trade to be impacted, and I feel it’s only right to help a neighbor who’s in distress.”

The Orc Lord impressed even herself with how well she was speaking out of her ass.

Across the low table, King Andorin barely managed to control his facial expression. He understood that the creature sitting across from him was powerful, but to describe the harpies as a small threat was still a surprise. Whether the Orc Lord was misinformed or whether that was the truth for her, it explained a bit of why she was so willing to assist them: she saw no risk in it for herself.

But of course, the possibility that she had arranged for their assault in the first place still existed.

“We are inclined to accept your offer to assist us in this matter,” the King nodded his head slightly. “However, the harpies aren’t the only threat. They’ve joined forces with the Claymore Kingdom to attack us.”

Vyra somehow acted ignorant as if she’d rehearsed it ahead of time.

“Claymore is to the North of here, if I’m not mistaken? I was under the impression they had poor relations with the harpies.”

“Yes, it confounds me also. But reasons aside, those two sides have joined forces. I’m afraid this won’t be a simple harpie extermination, but a war.”

Vyra covered her mouth, tightly gripping the sides of her jaw and doing everything within her willpower to wipe the bloodthirsty grin off her face.

“… Queen Vyra?”

Had he felt her bloodlust? Caught a glimpse of her smile? His posture was stiff and again she saw sweat beading near his hairline.

Anything is better than him suspecting my involvement, she thought, and said. “Forgive my discourtesy, Lord Andorin. You mentioned my favorite word, and I couldn’t quite control myself.”

She made a show of taking a deep breath to calm down, figuring that if she couldn’t hide her nature, she shouldn’t hide her efforts either.

With a faint smile still on her lips, she continued, “The fact that a war is brewing is no reason for me to withdraw my aid. On the contrary, I’d be happy to help as much as I can.”

“That’s very heartening to hear,” the human king smiled faintly back at her. He did seem relieved, but it was also sadly clear how tense he was.

He should control his expressions better, Vyra thought hypocritically, reaching in the magic bag at her hip for a green silk handkerchief, which she offered politely to her negotiating partner.

“I do apologize for making you uncomfortable, Lord Andorin.”

“No, no. I apologize if my discomfort has offended you in any way,” he replied, accepting her peace offering and wiping his sweat.

“Of course not.” Feeling the mood relaxing again, Vyra chuckled. She was actually somewhat enjoying this feeling of being the scariest monster in the room, though she quieted those thoughts, since she would rather make a good impression on her future father in law. “I understand completely. My bloodlust frightens Monsters too. You’re doing just fine, my Lord.”

“To have you reassure me like this…” the human king shook his head and faintly smiled. “We should get back to the matter at hand.”

“Yes, of course,” Vyra nodded. “Feel free to ask for anything you need, with just one condition.”

King Andorin was surprised to hear there was a condition after the Orc Lord had made it clear how willing she was to help.

“Which is?”

“I want to join the battlefield.”

“Ah.”

For any other monarch, it would be an unthinkable request, but it seemed so natural when the monarch in question was the Orc Lord. If such a being was ruler of any land, that land would be the battlefield.

“I understand,” he nodded. “I will cooperate to make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

King Andorin nodded. “In order to reduce suspicions about our relations, I think it would be better if your forces mainly handled the harpies.”

So he said, as if they weren’t the most difficult force for Andorin to handle in this war.

“That’s fine with me. It should be good practice for aerial combat.”

Andorin had been thinking the Orc Queen’s human language was quite good, but he thought he caught her first mistake there.

“Did you mean anti-aerial combat, Queen Vyra?”

She shook her head and pointed up toward the ceiling. “No, I mean fighting while flying in the air.”

“You have forces that can fly?”

“I can fly.”

First, King Andorin just stared, then he burst out laughing. “I see! I see… You can fly! Well, that will even the playing field, won’t it?”

Vyra smiled brightly. Seems like my first impressions are going well, she thought.

The two monarchs spent some time hashing out the details of the aid the Orc Lord would send before calling it a night. But because unexpected problems could still come up, it was decided that she would stay for a few days longer.

It would be a shame to leave without meeting my potential mate, after all.