CHAPTER 209: CHAPTER 209 – A NOON THAT WENT UNNOTICED

Sylvia stared blankly at the sheet of paper before her. The black letters covering the parchment seemed like an endless army, assaulting her mind with relentless consistency. The black quill had long since been set aside, its tip slightly dried with ink, yet she hadn’t used it again.

At first, she thought it was still morning. The sky outside the hall’s window was gray, the sunlight muted by winter fog hanging heavy in the air. It felt like a morning that never ended, dragging Sylvia deeper into her routine without realizing how much time had passed.

But then the hall’s door creaked softly, and light footsteps approached.

"Your Majesty," Celes’s voice was gentle, yet firm enough to break her reverie.

Sylvia lazily lifted her face. Standing before the large desk, Celes held a silver tray. From the bowl resting on it, thin steam curled upward, and the delicate aroma of vegetable and meat soup slowly filled the cold air of the hall.

"...Lunch?" Sylvia blinked slowly, her expression puzzled. "Isn’t it still morning?"

Celes glanced briefly out the window before looking back at her. "The sun has already passed its peak, Your Majesty. Time moves, even when it seems still."

Sylvia lowered her gaze, staring at the scattered documents. She sighed softly. "Hm... so I’ve been sitting here since morning until... Now? I didn’t notice at all."

Celes set the tray down beside the desk, bowing slightly. "You’ve been too immersed in work. That is good news for the city... but bad for you."

Sylvia eyed the steaming soup for a moment. The golden broth reflected the torchlight, a stark contrast against her pale hand. She reached for the silver spoon and tasted it slowly. A simple, gentle flavor spread across her tongue, not too salty, not too bland, just enough to warm the body.

Though her body didn’t need warmth, something in her mind reacted. She exhaled softly and closed her eyes briefly. "Mm... this is good. You made it?"

Celes shook her head slightly. "No. I only made sure the recipe was followed correctly. Some higher-level zombies can remember instructions well, though of course they cannot taste it."

Sylvia glanced at her, a faint smile curling on her lips. "Ironic, isn’t it? They can’t taste, yet they cook for those who can."

"As long as Your Majesty can enjoy it, that is enough." Celes’s reply was flat, yet there was sincerity hidden within it.

Sylvia spooned the soup again, slowly, lazily, but steadily. She wasn’t in a rush, simply letting time move along with the warm aroma drifting in the air.

Her eyes occasionally flicked toward the documents on the desk, but this time she resisted the urge to touch them. "Those papers won’t run away if I stop for a while," she murmured softly, more to herself.

Celes stood quietly at her side, hands folded in front of her waist. Her eyes calmly watched Sylvia, as if making sure her Queen truly ate.

After finishing half the bowl, Sylvia set the spoon down and rested her cheek on her hand. "You know, Celes... sometimes I think I’m better suited for battle than as a queen who sits every day, reading, writing, and complaining."

Without hesitation, Celes replied, "To lead does not always mean to fight on the battlefield. There are times when the sword is put away, and the pen becomes more dangerous."

Sylvia gazed at her for a long moment, then smiled faintly. "Hm... you always have wise words that make me lose in every debate."

"Because you never intend to win against me," Celes answered calmly, her tone carrying the faintest hint of teasing.

Sylvia chuckled softly, the sound faint but genuine. She slowly finished the rest of her meal, then closed the bowl with a simple motion. "Alright. This afternoon... I’ll keep reading. But only half of it."

Celes slightly raised an eyebrow. "And the other half?"

"The other half..." Sylvia leaned back into her large chair, staring at the still-dim window. "I’ll leave for a lazy evening. I’m entitled to that, aren’t I?"

Celes bowed slightly, her expression still serious. "Of course, Your Majesty. You are entitled to everything."

Sylvia smiled faintly. But that smile quickly faded as her eyes fell again on the towering stack of papers. She sighed deeply, then picked up the first sheet. "Alright. Let’s see who my enemy is this time... rows of numbers or rows of notes."

Meanwhile, a cold breeze slipped through the window crack, carrying the deeper scent of winter. The day kept moving, though for Sylvia, time still felt the same silent, gray, and endless.

She had been sitting for hours. The quill shifted from her right hand to her left, before finally lying abandoned atop the parchment. The torchlight dimmed, signaling that noon had slipped away unnoticed.

Every letter, every number, began to feel like thorns piercing her eyes. Until at last, when yet another sheet felt just as dull as the last, Sylvia slammed her palm onto the desk.

THUD!

The sound of wood echoed through the stone hall, making the two zombie guards at the door glance over.

"Enough!" Sylvia huffed, rising from her chair with a scowl. "I’m a queen, not a scribe! If I keep staring at these papers, my eyes will rot faster than my body."

With a sharp motion, she swept her hair back and strode toward the inner corridor of the castle. Thin steam seeping from the large door at the corridor’s end revealed her next destination: the hot spring bath that had been heated the night before.

Sylvia shoved the large wooden door open. The wide stone chamber welcomed her, lit by softly glowing magic crystals. At the center, a large stone pool brimmed with shimmering hot water and steam.

Without hesitation, she slipped out of her long black dress, replacing it with a thin towel loosely wrapped around her. Her long black hair fell freely over her pale back.

But as soon as her foot touched the poolside, her eyes widened.

Within the mist, a silver-haired figure was already soaking inside. Her slender shoulders peeked above the water’s surface, her left hand holding a glass of white wine that gleamed faintly in the light.

Celes.

She leaned relaxed against the pool’s edge, her eyes half-closed, savoring the warmth and the aroma of wine. Her pale lips touched the glass lightly as she sipped with calm grace.

"..." Sylvia froze briefly. Her expression instantly soured.

Without warning, she leapt straight into the pool with a loud SPLASH! Water surged in all directions, nearly overflowing the edges.

Celes opened her eyes, but her reflexes were sharp. The glass of wine that nearly slipped was swiftly lifted high, its contents untouched despite the violent waves. Droplets ran down her arm as her calm gaze fell on Sylvia.

The zombie queen emerged from the water, hair plastered wetly to her face, her crimson eyes glaring in annoyance. She pursed her lips, pouting openly.

"Hmph. At the very least, your drink should’ve spilled," Sylvia muttered, half-irritated, half-embarrassed.

Celes merely arched a slender brow, then slowly lowered the glass. A faint, almost invisible smile curved her lips. "Your Majesty... such behavior suits a jealous child more than a queen."

Sylvia wiped water from her face with a huff. "So be it. I’ve been forced to read dozens of sheets today. I’m entitled to a little chaos."

She sank deeper into the hot water, leaving only her head above the surface. Steam veiled her pale features, tinting her cheeks with a faint red. Her eyes still glanced sideways at Celes with a pout, yet she secretly relished the soothing warmth spreading through her body.

Celes, unbothered, calmly sipped her wine again. The ripples subsided, and she returned to her relaxed posture, as though Sylvia’s outburst had been nothing more than a passing ripple.

Seeing that, Sylvia’s pout deepened. She slapped the water with her hand, splashing it toward Celes. But once again, Celes merely tilted her head slightly, raising her glass to keep it safe.

"Unfair..." Sylvia mumbled under her breath, almost like a sulking child.

"Your Majesty always wins on the battlefield," Celes replied evenly. "Let me have this victory."

Sylvia fell silent, staring at her for a long moment. At last, she huffed, leaning her back against the pool’s edge, letting the hot water soak into her body. Her lips were still pursed, but her eyes slowly half-closed, giving in to the warmth that defied the winter outside.

Celes glanced briefly, then set her glass down on the pool’s edge. She closed her eyes once more, as if nothing in the world mattered besides the silence, the steam, and the slow passage of time.

On the other side, Sylvia still sat with her pout but this time, it was a pout softened by relief.

For the first time that day, she felt she was truly resting.

There was only the sound of rippling water and the soft sigh of rising steam. Sylvia cracked one eye open, glancing at the glass by the pool’s edge that Celes had just set down.

Curiosity stirred. She slowly reached out and grabbed the wine glass before Celes could protest. The pale white liquid inside reflected the glow of the crystals, looking beautiful... but the sharp scent of alcohol immediately stung her nose.

"...What’s so good about something like this?" Sylvia muttered, then took a small sip.

The moment she swallowed, her face twisted. Her lips grimaced, her tongue recoiled at the bitterness, and a hot burn seared down her throat.

"Ughh... so bitter! It tastes like spoiled medicine." She quickly set the glass back on the pool’s edge with a displeased expression, even sticking her tongue out a little.

Celes opened her eyes, watching Sylvia with a faint smile. "That’s because you’re not used to it. White wine has a delicate taste when savored slowly, not swallowed like water."

Sylvia huffed, resting her head against the pool’s edge with an even deeper pout. "I prefer plain water. At least it doesn’t betray my tongue."

Celes took another calm sip of her drink, letting the remark pass as if it didn’t matter. She only replied softly, "Water is for thirst, wine is for the soul."

Sylvia glanced at her briefly, then quickly looked away again, still sulking. Yet the faint flush on her cheeks from the hot water softened her pout, making it look gentler than usual.