Lydia straightened out everything about John’s suit, pulling on his collar, his sleeves and even making sure his shirt was properly tucked into his belt. “Relaxation about my birthday, what an original thought,” she sarcastically remarked while she did all of that. “This is the most stressful day of the year. Attention will lie entirely with me and each of my political rivals will be waiting for me to make a scene.”

“Ya still have those?” Rave asked, walking over to the piano and hitting a few of the keys. “I thought you’d get rid of something like that when ya became queen.”

“I merely exchanged one set for another one,” Lydia explained while continuing finishing up John with a few adjustments to his hair. With a light slap to his ass, she deemed his looks complete. “Be a pretty boy and sit down over there while I inspect everyone else,” she joked.

“I will not be objectified!” John playfully complained, only for Lydia to grab him by the collar. Her ruby red lips closed in on him. He had just enough time to marvel at the perfection of their shape and fullness before they connected with his own in a passionate kiss. She tasted sweet, with a note of metal and citrus. The last was more outstandingly present in the smell of her hair. “Well, perhaps I can be objectified a little bit,” he relented when she pulled back.

“You will be my greatest source of worry and relief today, my love,” Lydia stated, caressing the side of his face. “Please minimize one and maximize the other.” He nodded and she pulled away. “I profoundly request that all of you be on your best behaviour. I have invited you all despite the scene it could cause that I’m so publicly showing that I am part of the Gamer’s harem. This is because I care more about you than I care about the opinions of sensationalists. Everyone who meddles in the bonds of love we share can, to put it into Eliza’s terms, fuck themselves with a giant rusty dildo.” She looked around the room and gave everyone a quick glance of her steel eyes to underline her words. “With that being said, trouble should be avoided. Again, please be on your best behaviour during the festivities.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Salamander said and bowed in an overemphasized manner.

“I’ll not chat as much as I have to and not with everyone I see, I promise, I promise!” Sylph declared. Of all the ‘troublemakers’ in John’s harem, she could have probably gotten away with the most things because of the particular reputation air spirits had.

“I’ll be a refined lady, for as long as is necessary,” Siena’s sensual voice crept through the room.

“I won’t punch first,” Metra promised with a wide grin.

“I’ll just stick to John like dried up cum to pubic hair,” Eliza declared, and when Lydia gave her a long stare, added, “and I’ll talk as if Brenda was around.”

Those were all of the greatest sources for potential troubles promising they would keep a low profile. All of them except one. While even the other, less problematic girls promised they would make sure not to cause any scene, one person stayed quiet. When everyone looked in her direction, Nia turned around to see if anything was behind her. Finding nothing there, she pointed at her own face and quizzically tilted her head.

Lydia sighed and listed a couple of things, “I must request that you do not needlessly teleport.”

“I do not intend to,” Nia agreed.

“And that you keep your pariah aura under control at all times.”

“I will not scare anyone.”

“Furthermore, you should not approach people’s pets without permission and just scratch them because you want to.”

“…”

“Nia, did you hear what I just said?”

“…They want it too,” the pariah presented her counterargument after a moment of thought.

“That may be true, but their owners are influential people and you may annoy them if you approach their pets without their say,” Lydia told her. “Do request, but do not pester. Do it for me, please?”

Slowly, Nia nodded. “For you, friend,” she agreed.

Clearly relieved, Lydia let out a long exhale and then walked over to Sylph to adjust any and all perceived imperfections about the way the arcvolt elemental wore her dress. With nothing else to do, John walked over to the two-headed eagle in the room and offered his hand to be inspected. One head went down, the other up, allowing the god to check both on him and his hand.

Of all the gods, John found the Reichsadler to be a very peculiar one. Her phoenix-esque ability to be reborn aside, the god of emperorship was the only one John had met that either didn’t have the ability or strictly chose not to talk. Whatever it was, she allowed him to scratch her head. “Did you give her a new name, by the way?” John wondered, as he would have felt odd addressing the eagle as ‘Reichsadler’ all the time.

“In a way. My grandfather left me a notebook in which he often referred to her as Reik, when she was a he,” Lydia responded, moving on from Sylph and now checking on Salamander. The very first thing she did was pull the visible panties of the apocalypse elemental a bit further up. Playfully, Salamander moaned, and Lydia pinched her fellow haremette in the cheek to get her to behave herself. “I have taken to calling her Reika.”

“I suppose that’s a way to make the original title into a name,” John hummed while scratching Reika’s head. He had ample experience with birds thanks to a certain thieving one. Velka had been a bit upset with him the past two days, but as far as he was concerned, that was alright. Denying her favourite treats had been the only fitting punishment for her refusal to give him his glasses back. “Anyway, mind filling us in who you need to worry about?”

“The Knightlord of the Golden March, for one,” Lydia responded and took a moment to gesture in the direction of her rapier. The weapon had been leaning against her chair and now hovered up into the air. The weapon of form-changing metal spread out into the shape of a map, showing a map of Romulus’ Empire. “I trust you remember this map?”

“Yeah,” John responded and waited for Lydia to continue. The queen let him wait for just one moment, having finished up with Salamander and now inspecting Siena. Without touching the moonshade elemental in any fashion, Lydia moved onto the next woman. “Last time I saw this you followed it up with a detailed map of Rex Germaniae.”

“Those were my concerns at the time. While internal affairs remain in flux, I have them mostly under control and unified under my command.”

“Within Rex Germaniae, only the NTC and the Austrian Kingdom are entities strong enough to oppose me. However, I keep close counsel with Amalia and our goals tend to overlap. Our relationship only went through a difficult phase because of you.” Lydia gave him a sour glance.

John shrugged. He had smoothed over relations with the leader of the Netherlands already and apologized to Lydia in the past, so he saw no reason to act guilty. “I needed to know why she offered me that boat ride and I needed that yacht.”

Sighing, Lydia continued on, “Austria is controllable. Ria is a pain in my sides, but she can be convinced to follow whatever I want her to do through the allocation of some additional finances to her tinkering department. The Czech League is a different story. It is de-jure part of Rex Germaniae but de-facto governs itself. I maintain friendly relations with the leadership, so they should not pose an issue tonight.”

The map changed again to depict a different part of Europe.

“While Great Viz and Africa are both de-facto and de-jure part of the Sons of Rome, the governors of those areas, the Great Duke of Viz and Lord Africanus to name only their titles, are influential enough to have a sway on the imperial court. That aside, we will have to deal with Romulus, Luna, Sol and Rodaclam – you already know how unpredictable they can be.”

“I somewhat look forward to seeing them again… except Sol,” John admitted.

Lydia blew air out of her nose in an amused fashion. “Do not worry, she will be a pleasant conversationalist in comparison to the Lord of Pontis,”

“He’s a cunt,” the queen put it in unblemished terms. “A corrupt bureaucrat who only stays in power because removing him would be even more of a pain than his blatant misuses of authority are. Like the other two, Pontic is a direct part of the Sons of Rome, but holds an influential position. More independent are the two large Iberian guilds.”

“The Golden March used to be the empire’s second strongest military faction, after the Sons of Rome themselves. With the ascendance of my guild in the 17th century, it eventually slid down to third and nowadays fields less than Austria on its own, arguably making it fourth. Regardless, they retain a rigid, militaristic and largely feudal structure. Their pride is also intense. They see themselves as a state of knights and captains. The Seastrider Ports, or just Portugal, they go by both, are something between the NTC and a large biolab. They excel on the manipulation of marine life. The leaders of all of those areas are out to increase their own standing in the imperial court and a good way to assure they look splendid is by making me appear incompetent.” Lydia pulled the map back together into the shape of her rapier. “I would like to avoid this.”

“Noted,” John said, since they had already given their word to minimize troubles. At this point, he was sitting in the chair they had found Lydia in, Reika lying in his lap and half dozing off under his gentle scratches. Nia had come over and joined him in caressing the soft feathers. “She really likes me.”

“Why ever could that be?” Metra wondered. “Why would the god of emperorship like you, my king? I just can’t figure it out.”

“Hush,” John responded.

“I’m just saying.”

“I would fuck that attitude right out of you if those dresses didn’t have to stay on,” John growled warningly.

It had the opposite of the intended effect. “Threaten me with a good time, my emperor,” Metra grinned.

Lydia clapped once to get their attention. “As charming as I find your openly perverted foolishness, our preparations are far from done.” Lydia had one of the metal segments of her work desk hover over to her and took a sheet of paper off it. “Let us go through the entirety of the festival schedule.”

Groaning, Rave hit a few keys on the piano and created a halfway worthwhile melody. “We already went through that at home and once in a video call with you. Why we gotta go through it again? It’s just a day of festivity stuff. Just enjoy it, Lylytina, it’s your birthday.”

“Must I repeat myself? There is no room for me to enjoy my birthday. We must navigate the numerous events of today as if we hadn’t prepared for any of them and were just geniuses at reacting to social cues.” She waved the list around. “The court is like a mundane award show, except instead of some golden idols, the power to change the lives of millions is on the line. Speeches must be prepared and even the most unlikely of circumstances considered to maximize the appeal to nobles and public.”

“Ya know, I don’t do any of that stuff and I’m doing fine,” Rave pointed out.

“You operate as First Lady to the very founder of a country,” Lydia countered. “My position as an influential vassal is the product of thousands of years of history. Our circumstances cannot be compared.”

“She’s right,” John cut into the discussion. “Jane, you operate with a lot of freedom because what you do is mostly out of the bounds of government. Lydia and I have to be more careful about everything. Public perception is incredibly important,” he looked over to queen, “although I don’t have to deal with a godlike overlord and nobles. A republic is at least somewhat self-correcting when it comes to incredibly corrupt officials.”

“We will support where we are required, mistress,” Aclysia added her own voice in support.

“I mean, I don’t really get all this political bla-bla, but I’ll follow your lead, Lyly,” Rave relented.

“Thank you,” Lydia expressed her gratitude with a militaristic nod and then looked on her list again. “First item on the agenda…”