The son of the God-Emperor in Warhammer Fantasy

Ryan had always had mixed feelings about Sylvia. On one hand, Sulia's maid had never really gotten along with him. She often opposed him, criticized his actions, and pointed out his breaches of noble etiquette, which gave Ryan quite a headache. On the other hand, Sylvia's actions were not without reason. Ryan's behavior indeed sometimes lacked proper decorum, and Sylvia's criticisms were justified. She never clung to power; when Ryan returned, she promptly handed over all authority. So, Ryan's impression was that Sylvia was merely throwing a tantrum, expressing her discontent in this manner rather than out of malice.

What was at the core of Sylvia's discontent? Ryan suspected it was his numerous female attendants and maids, which likely displeased her.

"What's wrong, Sylvia? What's really going on?" Ryan sensed something was clearly amiss with Sylvia, but she refused to say. The duke approached her, squatting down. "What's wrong?"

"Don't come any closer!" Sylvia's face was flushed. She seemed to be enduring something, and seeing Ryan approach made her panic. She tried to move but felt weak all over, repeatedly telling him to stay back.

"What's going on?" Ryan grew more concerned. He quickly approached and dominantly grasped Sylvia's wrist, placing a hand on her forehead. "Your face is so red, but you're not feverish."

"Ugh!" Sylvia struggled to push Ryan away, but he stood firm like a dwarven-fortified wall, immovable. "Let me go, you! Don't do this!"

"Then tell me, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Ryan noticed she wasn't feverish or corrupted, just very flushed. He pulled her up, seeing she was still unsteady. "Should I get the Prophet of the Lake or the physicians from Sariah Hospital to check on you?"

"No, really, I'm fine," Sylvia's face reddened further as she shook her head vigorously. "I'm just a bit tired."

"Won't you tell me?" Ryan smiled mischievously, holding her wrist. "If you don't, I'll…"

Today, Sylvia wore a standard black-and-white maid uniform, with a knight's sword at her waist. Unlike the dark elf, who looked enchanting in this outfit, Sylvia appeared dignified and serious, even wearing slightly thick white velvet stockings and black leather shoes. Her face flushed, and her purple eyes filled with helplessness and anger. "My lord, please show some respect!"

"Respect?" Ryan knew how stubborn Sylvia was. He thought forcing her might backfire, so he let go of her wrist and said, "You're Sulia's maid, Sylvia. And you're telling me to show respect?"

"Ugh," Sylvia realized the contradiction in her words. As Sulia's maid, she was supposed to belong to Ryan, so asking him to show respect was inappropriate. But thinking of this made her even angrier. She snorted coldly, bit her lip, and tried to stand up. "Alright, we've wasted enough time… I…"

Before she could finish, Sylvia squatted down again, struggling. "Ugh."

Ryan sighed and clapped his hands. "Someone come here!"

"Yes, my lord. What are your orders?" A young maid quickly approached, delighted to receive a direct order from Ryan. "Please, command me."

"Tell Count Durin and Count Larote that I have a sudden matter tonight. Our meeting will be rescheduled for tomorrow evening," Ryan said calmly. "Go now."

"Wait!" Sylvia hurriedly interjected. "I'm fine. The evening meeting is important. Don't postpone it because of me."

The maid hesitated, as Sylvia had been managing the castle in Sulia's absence due to her pregnancy. Faced with conflicting orders from the duke and the head maid, she was unsure what to do. But Ryan's authority was unmatched, so she ultimately bowed to him and quickly left, ignoring Sylvia's calls.

"Alright, now can you tell me what's going on?" Ryan squatted beside Sylvia again, smiling. "Because of you, tonight's meeting is postponed. Dear Sylvia, do you want tomorrow's meeting postponed too?"

"This is different!" Sylvia glared at him.

"Right now, it's the same thing. Sylvia, my head maid, your refusal to cooperate troubles me greatly. If all my maids were like you, how could I, as the duke, function?" Ryan smiled.

"No, not here." Sylvia's face alternated between red and white. She finally relented, whispering, "Let's go somewhere else."

"Alright." Ryan picked her up.

A few minutes later, in a private room on the third floor of the castle.

Ryan placed Sylvia on a sofa and sat opposite her, smiling. "Now, can you tell me?"

"It's… it's your dark elf maid's doing!" Sylvia leaned weakly against the sofa, her face red with anger. "She did something to me!"

"Why? Olica promised not to cause trouble. Did you provoke her? Sylvia, tell me the truth," Ryan pressed, finding the situation peculiar.

Recalling an unpleasant memory, Sylvia blushed even more. She gritted her teeth. "I only entered her domain."

"You entered the Pale Courtyard?" Ryan immediately understood. "Isn't it off-limits without her invitation because it's where she makes potions and conducts magical experiments?"

"So what? It's a critical time. How can I allow an unsafe area in the castle?" Sylvia writhed uncomfortably. "Two days ago, I finally got the chance to enter, but the dark elf already knew my intention…"

Sylvia explained the events to Ryan. When she entered the Pale Courtyard, Olica discovered her immediately. Naturally, the dark elf was displeased with the intrusion. Ryan's maid and the head maid clashed in the courtyard.

"You lost?" Ryan chuckled, knowing Olica's strength.

"I'm no match for her… She defeated me, tied me to a rack, and said if anyone else intruded, she'd make them a test subject. But she couldn't do that to me, so she… she applied a pink potion to some parts of me and cursed me, then let me go. Now, I'm like this."

"Alright, I understand. I'll talk to Olica, but Sylvia, you must understand Olica had my permission to set up the Pale Courtyard. Don't be so self-righteous next time." Ryan frowned, thinking both were at fault. Sylvia shouldn't have intruded without permission, and Olica shouldn't have resorted to such measures. "What do you need now? Should I ask Olica to make an antidote?"

"No… the dark elf said there's only one way to cure it."

"That way?" Ryan frowned, wondering what it entailed.

"No, not that way. You just need to…" Sylvia shook her head and explained Olica's trick to temporarily counteract the potion and curse.

It was indeed a nasty trick. Ryan understood Olica's intentions.

"Well, alright then."

...Dividing Line for the Nasty Trick... 

Twenty minutes later, in the lady's garden of the castle.

Ryan strolled with his hands behind his back, Sylvia following unsteadily, her face flushed. She occasionally recalled the earlier events, feeling her brain might burst from embarrassment.

"Feeling better, Sylvia?" Ryan looked at the summer night sky, listening to the cicadas in the garden, his expression a mix of emotions.

What a peculiar way to counteract the curse. He wasn't sure whether to praise Olica's creativity or criticize her antics.

"Much better, thank you, Lord Ryan." Sylvia's face was red. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble and delaying the meeting."

"It's fine. By the way, can I call you Sylvie, like Sulia does?" Ryan asked casually, his muscles twitching.

He felt it was time to get to the bottom of the issue.

"If you insist," Sylvia lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze after the recent events.

"I always felt you… seemed to dislike me, Sylvie." Ryan smiled bitterly. They had known each other for many years. Since he came to the knightly kingdom, almost ten years had passed. Sylvia had grown from a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl into a twenty-five-year-old woman, but her attitude hadn't changed. "All these years."

"I never disliked you, Lord Ryan. You embody the virtues of knighthood. Your strength, honor, and wisdom have saved this country from danger time and again. You've proven your might and perfection repeatedly. I only respect and admire you." Sylvia immediately denied Ryan's assumption, adding urgently, "I swear by the Lady!"

"Do you think I'm unworthy of your lady?" Ryan asked.

"Is there a better match for her in this kingdom?" Sylvia denied again, shaking her head. "I won't deceive myself. Your marriage with my lady is successful and happy. Even I can't find fault. My lady will be queen, and you treat her well. I have no objections."

"Then is it because I have many women besides Sulia?" Ryan was embarrassed, knowing he had wronged Sulia. He had promised not to add more women before marriage, and she agreed.

"Duke François has twice as many female attendants as you. As a duke, you have only Lady Teresa and Lady Veronica. This is the least among the dukes. I feel for my lady, but I understand it's inevitable. I never disliked you for this." Sylvia denied again. "As for the maids, it's only Lady Emilia and the dark elf you've been involved with, right?"

So why don't you like me?! Ryan thought, determined to resolve this today. Harmony at

 home is crucial.

The summer night breeze stirred the garden, moving the purple-gold flower sea. Normally, the iris blooms in May, but both the Lady of the Lake and Sulia loved irises. With the goddess's power, the garden's irises bloomed for months.

The flowers symbolized grandeur, light, freedom, and love. Ryan enjoyed the faint fragrance, thinking again. "Is it my policies? You dislike my establishment of the old guard, promotion of serfs, or introduction of dwarven technology?"

"No, I agree with your policies. This country needs change." Sylvia still denied.

"???" Ryan was genuinely puzzled. He couldn't think of any other reasons.

As the most powerful man in Brittany, he couldn't keep questioning like this. It would lower his stature and seem frivolous. He decided to think it over and ask again later.

The garden fell silent.

"…" Sylvia noticed Ryan had stopped asking. Annoyed, she thought for a moment, then whispered, "I never had any complaints against you, Lord Ryan. If I did, it started three years ago."

Three years ago? Ryan realized that was around the time of his marriage to Sulia. But Sylvia said she didn't think Sulia was unworthy of him, nor did she mind his many women.

So why was Sylvia dissatisfied with him starting three years ago? Ryan pondered but couldn't figure it out.

"I didn't expect the renowned Ryan-Malcador, famous for his iron will, excellent governance, superior command, and outstanding personal bravery, to be stumped by such a small matter." Sylvia's tone turned cold. She started to leave. "Alright, I should go back."

"Wait!" Ryan was determined to resolve this. "Sylvie, don't rush back. Let's take a walk. We can have a drink at the Grail Praise Tavern in Garon's town center."

"Is this a formal invitation or an order?" Sylvia's tone was rigid. "Can I refuse?"

"It's a sincere invitation. We seldom have time alone. I think we need to communicate more," Ryan said earnestly.

"…I'll go change." Sylvia finally relented.

"Alright, I'll wait."

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