Bonus Art - Sleepy Spy (Plus Short Story)

"To me, men!"

Royal Captain Cynthia's proud, iron voice booms out across the barracks, instantly commanding the attention of every man present as they line up before her with all the efficiency of a well-oiled machine. As a newly recruited guardsman I attempt to follow suit--though admittedly, despite my best attempts, I bumble my way onto the end of the line-up just a bit more sluggishly than the rest. The dirty looks I get from the side don't go unnoticed. But...no matter how painful the stares are, I try not to pay my colleagues any mind--especially not when our captain is addressing us!

And I have to say... Lady Cynthia is looking as divine as ever today. Standing before us with her spine perfectly straight, golden locks combed so that not a single strand of hair is out of place, and armour polished to a near blinding degree, she's the very embodiment of the noble title bestowed upon her--Captain of the Royal Guards. It's awe-inspiring just to be in her presence. To be commanded by her.

I just, uh...I haven't quite figured out how the other men present manage to keep their eyes locked on her crimson gaze and NOT certain...other parts of her, that are just as prominently on display as her plated armour. In fact, you could say with the way the breastplate fits around said aspects, and just barely manages to contain such immense softness threatening to spill out of their steel confines, her outfit only further enhances those very elements I'm trying so hard not to gawk at.

Yes. There's only so many flowery ways I can allude to it before I just have to say it outright. I'm talking about her chest, of course. Those immense, regal assets that fill her armour out so wonderfully. Perhaps one--or two, if we want to be technical about it--of the reasons that I suddenly became so interested in wanting to serve the royal guard to begin with. Don't get me wrong, helping the people of Rhan and ensuring order and safety is high up there, too...but I'm not going to kid myself; being able to both serve, and be in close proximity of Lady Cynthia and all of her majesty was a HIGHLY motivating factor. I am a shallow man, and I'm not proud to admit it, but I'm admitting it all the same. At least to myself.

Even now as I stand in line and feel an immense strain on my neck from trying so hard not to gawk at her bosom, my heart is all aflutter. I wonder what she wants from us? It's rare to see her in person outside of the gruelling training regimes or more specialised operations.

Clasping her hands behind her and giving a single nod at our--mostly--disciplined formation, the captain continues on. I hang on her every word, like an excited puppy--a trait that has been thrown my way more than once in my time on the guard, thanks in part to my seemingly eternal youthful looks and slight stature. It feels like no matter how much I train, I just can't get quite the same bulk as the other men. Is it something in my diet, I wonder...? Maybe I need to eat more meat. Ah. Crap, I'm getting distracted. Focus when Lady Cynthia is talking! Everything she says is important!

"Very good. I'll be assigning you all to your posts today. As I'm certain you're all aware, this typically doesn't fall under my jurisdiction...but due to certain...complications that have arisen...I'm in need of someone's aid, so I decided I would come here personally." She makes an uncharacteristically dire face as she utters that last part with far less iron than her typical, booming commands.

Hmmm. 'Complications', though...? Now that's definitely gotten me curious. Is there trouble afoot in Rhan? Maybe some kind of black market sting operation is going down, and she needs the best of the best to kick down doors and haul the bad guys in?!

With that said, each of the men is assigned a position in the city to patrol, and then in turn they throw up a salute before marching off to perform their duty. The barracks gradually becomes emptier, and emptier still...and before long, it's just me. And Lady Cynthia. If I thought my heart was thumping away before, it's downright galloping now as I attempt to keep a rigid posture before the woman I admire so much.

Especially when such a long and painful silence has settled in between us. For whatever reason, unlike the other men, she hasn't given me my assignment yet for the day. She's just...staring. I think I can actually FEEL her eyes on me. And that's not exaggeration. That steely, crimson gaze of hers has a physical presence--like it's actually holding me down on the spot, like some kind of unseen, all-encompassing hand wrapped around my trembling frame.

The...the amount of power she exudes, even in a neutral state, is insane. It's no wonder she's considered one of the Queen's right-hand men. Or, uh, women, I guess.

"Hmmm. You. I remember you..."

She finally says after scrutinising me for a good long while. My breath catches in my throat at that. My heart feels like it's about to leap out of its chest. She remembers ME?! Of all the soldiers under her command? I must have truly been impressive to left such a lasting impact--...

"...Yes. You were the one that broke down crying during the initial training drills I held for all potential new recruits. I had never actually thought it possible to flood a room with tears until witnessing your feat back then."

...Never mind.

But...even if it's not the most manly impression...any impression being made at all is good...right? Sort of like how publicity works--where even the worst kind can work in a person's favour!

"It...it, uh...it was a lot more challenging than I expected, Lady Cynthia..." I reply, unsure if I'm speaking out of turn, or if I'm even allowed to speak at all. But thankfully, she simply nods again, the faintest of amused smiles crossing her lips.

"Indeed. Such drills are designed to weed out all those who aren't fit to become a royal guard, and can often prove to be challenging for those lacking of both physical and mental fortitude. I'm...somewhat surprised you made the cut, truth to be told. I wonder why--..."

After taking a moment more to ponder on the matter, gauntleted hand gravitating to her chin to stroke it in thought, her eyes suddenly light up in recollection.

"Ah. Yes. I remember now. When confronted with the prospect of not becoming a guard, you cried even more. I believe I ended up offering you a position on the condition that you would improve your shortcomings swiftly. Not something I typically offered men...but when the entire barracks was at risk of succumbing to a flash flood, I felt I had no other choice."

Oh, no... I must have blocked a lot of this out once I got the job, for my own well-being's sake. Was I really THAT bad...? I...I thought I earned my position through blood, sweat and tears! Apparently it was JUST tears. But...I've been working really hard ever since, and don't make THAT much of a mess with the tasks thrust upon me! I've only been carted off to the infirmary three times! At least that I remember. Admittedly some of my thoughts are a bit scrambled after taking one too many blows to the head in recent days...

"A-ahaha... Well...I appreciate being given the chance, and hope I'm doing okay now!" I reply hopefully. All the while, I can't help but run a hand through my hair, breaking from my rigid posture in the process.

"You're alive at least, which I suppose is something, and as far as I know, the tasks assigned to you have been completed without too much in the way of incident--but since recruiting you, our healing potion stock has dwindled considerably. Perhaps it is just a coincidence, or perhaps..." Lady Cynthia crosses her arms in together across the heft of her bust. Not that I'm...looking in that particular area, of course. "...No matter. Your performance is not what I'm here to discuss. That can wait for another day."

...Ever so slightly concerning ramifications for my future here on the royal guard, but I'll take it. Gives me time to stockpile more tears.

"O-of course. How can I help then, captain?"

Arms still crossed firmly over her chest, she narrows her gaze at me. And again, I feel those fiery, crimson eyes take in every inch of my form. The look on her face tells me she's debating something. And then with a huff, and a toss of her golden locks that cascade perfectly back down in waves, she presses on. Almost reluctantly so.

"...I had told myself I would simply give the job to whoever was at the end of the line-up, just as a matter of discretion...but now I'm wondering if sending someone like you is a good idea... Perhaps I should just do it myself after all, even though I really LOATHE going to that particular area..."

Ah. My heart sinks. So she doesn't think I'm a very good guardsman after all. I can see the doubt written all over her pretty face regarding this special operation she had in mind.

Without realising it, I'd clenched my hands into trembling fists. My entire body burns over from equal parts embarrassment and frustration. If I let this slip by, she's going to continue thinking I'm useless. And this won't bode well for the next performance report. I...I need to prove to her that letting me onto the royal guard wasn't a mistake. That I can handle whatever she throws my way.

"I apologise for holding you up. I'll assign you a standard patrol route as normal, and--"

"I'll do it!" I blurt out without thinking, my voice squeaking out across the barracks, when I had more intended for it to be a loud roar full of iron like Lady Cynthia typically does. This earns me a bewildered blink in response, and I realise I'm potentially making a fool of myself here, especially cutting off my captain so rudely. But if I don't speak up now, I might never have a chance again!

"...I'm sorry...?" Lady Cynthia says, still looking as bewildered as ever. She even tilts her head for good measure.

"That...that important task you had! I-I can do it!" Chest heaving and sweat laying claim to my trembling form, it takes a tremendous amount of effort to force each new word out. It's all I can do to keep myself from passing out. Let's not add a new infirmary trip to all of this!

...Lady Cynthia sighs. Having recovered from the initial shock of my squeaky outburst, she gives a shake of her head, golden locks swaying along with her.

"It's...really not THAT important. It was wrong of me to try to pass it off to someone else to begin with. Think nothing of it. And this certainly won't affect your--..."

"Please! Just... Let me do it! I-I know you think I'm worthless--but just...give me this one last chance! I won't screw it up!"

At this point, I'd ended up taking several steps towards her somewhere along the line. No doubt my eyes were wide and manic, too, coupled with my breathing being so erratic that I'm one step away from hyperventilating. I must have come across as , because even Lady Cynthia can't help but take a step back. She takes a moment to compose herself before straightening up.

"V-very well... If it's THAT important to you... And I suppose if I refuse, you'll just start crying again, too, won't you...?"

Well. There was a high possibility, yes. Sniffling, I step back in line and scratch sheepishly at my head.

"Th-thank you, Lady Cynthia. And...s-sorry for getting so worked up... I might have gone overboard there..."

"It's...quite alright. I...misjudged just how passionate you were about your position in the royal guard." Her expression softens into a small smile. "This can be considered a true test for you, then. One with a...high degree of failure. But if you manage to pull it off, you can consider your place here secure. And if not...well...you'll just have to find some other way to prove your worth, I suppose..."

...As she says that, just the faintest hint of colour flushes across her cheeks. And I can't fathom why. Best I don't dwell on it, though. Because I don't intend to fail. I can do this. I know I can!

--

And so... With my special task assigned to me, I find myself roaming the spacious, seemingly never-ending halls of the royal castle, nestled in the heart of Rhan. Home to both the Queen herself, alongside a host of other important figures, including Lady Cynthia, amongst other high-ranking officials.

I've been here inside the castle before, of course, so it's not entirely brand new to me...but its sheer majesty never fails to take my breath away. Just the knowledge that I could potentially bump into the Queen at any point is enough to keep me buzzing with excitement, even in spite of the job Lady Cynthia ended up giving me.

When she was hesitant to assign it to me, I assumed it was because it was too dangerous for one man to handle. Something incredibly risky. Like thwarting an assassin from carrying out their plans, or busting some organised criminal group...

What I hadn't anticipated it on being was a simple wake-up call. And I use that term in the most literal way possible. In that... I'm having to go and wake someone up.

When she first told me about it, almost ashamedly so, I had assumed she was pulling my leg, and was going to give the REAL assignment after...

However, Lady Cynthia is many things. A joker, she is not.

I guess if you consider WHO I'm being sent to wake up, it does add a certain amount of...prestige, to an otherwise mundane job best suited for one of the many maids milling about these castle halls...but for whatever reason, almost everyone except Lady Cynthia herself refuses to undertake such a task. And even the Royal Captain was looking to pass the responsibility on to someone else.

This probably should have made me just a bit more concerned, truth be told...but my burning determination to prove I'm not a complete failure has overwritten any sense of caution or fear. If there's a job to be done, I'll do it. I won't think twice. I won't hesitate. I'm just going to march right over there and drag this person out of bed. Lady Cynthia is counting on me--even if she deemed my chances of success being less than favourable.

...So lost in my thoughts am I as I clank through the halls in my royal guard armour that I soon find myself before the room in question with a sudden blink of my eyes. Huh. That was quick. I didn't even have time to fully mentally prepare myself.

But... This won't be so bad. I just need to keep telling myself that, until the job is over.

I give the door before me a look over. Just like all the others lining the corridor, it's made of finely crafted and varnished wood, with an ornate golden handle.

...The only difference with this, and the other doors, is a scrap of parchment that has been pinned rather haphazardly against it, with the words 'SUPER ULTRA SECRET LAIR. ENTER IF YOU DARE' scrawled in bright red ink in a flashy, flowing script.

At least I know I have the right room... But it's not much of a 'secret lair' if you advertise it so blatantly now, is it?!

Ah, whatever. Let's just get this over with. How bad could it possibly be?

As I reach for the handle, I notice several maids in the vicinity all suddenly scatter with tremendous urgency.

...How...bad...could it be...right?

Swallowing these doubts down, I push down on the handle and creak the door open.

Almost immediately, my nostrils are hit with the unmistakably intense smell of hard liquor--enough to actually make my eyes water, and make me feel ever so slightly woozy just from taking a whiff. With how strong the smell is, you'd think there's a fully-fledged brewery on the other side of this door, really now!

But I can't falter here. Not at the first obstacle. One of many to come, as per Lady Cynthia's dire warnings... I shake off the mounting, boozy nausea and open the door the rest of the way. Or...at first, I try to do so, but my initial, gentle attempt is met with a good deal of resistance. Like something is propped against the door, holding it back. With a grunt, I push with a bit more force...and I'm met with a heavy series of clinking noises as what I can only assume is an unholy amount of glass bottles are being scattered on the other side, finally allowing the door to open completely.

...This really just ends up lending more credence to the 'brewery' thing. But this is a bedroom!

Not that that would be your first impression upon actually gazing upon this 'Super Ultra Secret Lair', though... In all of its...majesty?

Much as you'd expect from any room in the grand castle, the floors, walls and ceiling are all opulent as can be, hewn from the finest materials and gilded with trimmings so intricate and expensive just a single strip of gold across the wooden panelling is probably worth more than I make in a year. The carpet--at least what little I can see of it--is a fine, plush one that's probably more comfortable to sleep on alone than my bed, and--... Ahh... I'm just going to get depressed if I keep comparing royal living standards to my own, aren't I?

The room is fancy. That's what I'm trying to get at. At least from an initial glance. But when you take in the actual 'furnishings', it's when this regal veneer really begins to crumble and I truly feel like I've stumbled into another world. I'd heard that this royal spy was from a foreign land, but this really cements it.

From the low, low, LOW table that has cushions scattered around it in place of chairs, the exotic drawers and dressers lining the wall, and some sort of elaborate series of scrolls both hanging on the wall and just scattered about the place in various states of unravel, the furniture the spy has is both recognisable for its function, but also just different enough that I can tell it's clearly not from Anzara. That goes double for the weaponry and tools that are also just haphazardly scattered, like a messy kid had neglected to put everything back into their toybox at the end of the day.

Strange, thin swords, pointed stars embedded into the wall, and a bunch of other stuff I can't even begin to fathom, I'm getting so much cultural whiplash at once my mind is struggling to process it all.

And, of course, nestled in the heart of this chaos is the very person I'd been sent to wake up. And when I say 'nestled', I really mean it. At first, I couldn't find them at all, wondering if this room even HAD a bed, but as my eyes gravitated to the floor, I found her.

Just like every other piece of furniture in this strange little slice of the eastern lands, the spy's bed is no exception. Or 'bedding', should I say. Since there's no real frame to be found. Instead, she's just laid out on a thick blanket on the floor, with a little pillow under her and some thin scrap of material that maybe once served as something meant to be draped over her, now tangled around her leg in a messy heap. Is this how they sleep where she's from, then...?

Realising I've done nothing but gawk in awe and confusion since opening the door, I try to remind myself of why I'm here. This is...a wake-up call, right?

I clear my throat. How hard can it be? All I have to do is raise my voice. Maybe rap on the door a little for emphasis. And then I'll have earned back Lady Cynthia's trust, and my job will be secure! So simple. So very, very simple!

...I say that, and yet I'm sure all I've done is stand here for the last five minutes, hand still awkwardly gripping the door handle. Why is that?

Maybe...maybe it's because the moment I took in a breath to deliver the most manly of wake-up calls...I actually finally took in the full sight of who was lying on the bedding there, in the most compromising of positions.

Royal Spy Ren. Or 'Super Ultra Royal Spy Ren', if you want to be proper about it--but the last guardsman to utter that extra part aloud in earshot of Lady Cynthia earned a fist to the head so hard they didn't wake up for two days... So as a matter of precaution, I try not to use that 'full' title.

Ahem. But anyway. Royal Spy Ren. A name that evokes both fear AND arousal in the hearts of all men in Rhan. The antics she gets up to in the name of supposed 'justice' are infamous here. Many of which seem so outlandish, that those unfamiliar with her simply believe people to be exaggerating...but after spending just a few minutes with her...they no longer doubt.

The girl is larger than life, renowned for both her buxom beauty and terrifying combat skills alike; a chaotic whirlwind that goes her own way in life, much to the dismay of everyone around her. Especially Lady Cynthia.

And here she is. Fast asleep before my eyes. Napping amid a sea of empty drinks, with an especially lucky bottle clutched in her arm as if it were a teddy bear, nestled up quite snugly against the soft heft of the bosom practically spilling out of the skimpy top that just barely clings to her outrageous frame. A blissful expression is on her drool-caked face as she takes in gentle, dozy breaths without a care in the world.

All of this is further emphasised by the hazy amber glow of sunlight filtering in through a crack in the curtains off to the side that serves to give her pale skin an especially enticing glow. Dust motes glitter around her, lending an almost ethereal quality to the whole scene.

...The hand gripping the door has become incredibly sweaty all of a sudden. Not to mention my throat has grown so dry. I struggle to even swallow now as I continue to let my incredibly respectful eyes roam over the spy's napping form.

It's not like the exotic outfit she wears on a regular basis hides much of her figure from view...but seeing her in such casual wear--a skimpy, white, sleeveless top, along with a snug pair of shorts--stretched so taut across her ample figure is stoking a fire in me that I never even knew I HAD for the minx of a spy.

I'm...I'm conflicted. I'm devoted to Lady Cynthia, aren't I?! Isn't it wrong to be having such...impure thoughts about the very girl she loathes so much?!

Wh-whoa...! The royal spy suddenly moves, and my heart just about leaps out of my chest. I fear she might catch me leering at her as I am, and how I'd struggle to explain why I've just simply been...standing here...for as long as I have, but thankfully it seems she's just shifting in her sleep. Glossy lips smacking, sticky with booze and drool alike, she settles onto her side with a contented series of murmurs. Her top shifts down just a bit more, too, dangerously close to showing it all...

A part of me wonders if I wait just a bit longer, maybe she'll shift onto her other side, and maybe, just maybe, that tiny little top will finally give way and--...

I grit my teeth and resist the urge to slam my head against the door. What on earth am I thinking?! I'm a proud, respectful royal guard--one of Lady Cynthia's most trusted men, even if she doesn't know it yet! I need to remind myself, once more, for like the tenth time since arriving here, that I have a job to do! A job I need to hurry up and get over with, less my baser instincts make me do something I'll regret.

"A-ah, uhm... L-Lady Ren...?" I finally say. Timidly. My voice just barely above a whisper. You know, the sort of volume that is completely contradictory to trying to WAKE someone up. Clearing my throat and shaking my head, I push on. "I...I've been sent to wake you up, as Lady Cynthia needs your most recent report."

…

Nothing. But okay. That was expected. From the amount of bottles around the boozy spy, she must be out cold. If it were any other person, I would assume they were in some kind of alcoholic coma. Guess I just need to really raise my voice. This is it. I'm going all-out!

"L-Lady Ren! Please! Wake up!" I croak out. Even knocking the door a good few times as I steadily work up my courage.

...Nothing. Not even a stirring. She just keeps taking in those gentle, dozy breaths with the same blissful grin on her face, her enormous chest slowly rising...and falling...and rising...and--gh... No... Focus!

Refusing to let a slumbering spy get the best of me, I dare to take a step into her exotic room. More bottles clink underfoot, and I practically have to wade through them to reach Ren. Heart hammering in my chest as that perfect, buxom figure of hers is in full view now, I stand at the foot of her bedding on the floor and really raise my voice now. This is it. The point of no return. It's all or nothing now!

"Lady Ren! Please! Wake up! Or...give me some sort of sign that you're alive! This is becoming quite concerning..."

…

I...I really thought this would be it. Or that maybe I was going too far, and would get scolded for trespassing into a lady's room... But she doesn't react at all. Just how deep of a sleeper is she...? I'd almost be impressed if I wasn't so worried she might actually be in some sort of coma.

I crouch at the foot of her bed. A reluctant sigh escapes me. There's no other option now, is there? I've...I've exhausted every other avenue. Failure isn't an option here, after all. I just...I just have to be incredibly careful, so no misunderstandings arise. A sweaty hand is brought up. And with one, shaky, tentative finger...I poke at her leg. Her incredibly soft, milky white leg...that has just the right amount of give to it as my finger prods in against the shapely appendage.

"Mmm--heehee~"

I leap back with a squeak as the spy finally reacts in some way. I'd honestly gotten so used to every attempt failing that I didn't expect it to work--but sure enough, she stirs from my poke and lets out a dozy giggle. Not quite enough to wake her up, it seems... But...it's a start! Okay! Progress!

Emboldened by this new development, I crouch back in over her and give her leg a good few more prods. I'll wake her up if it's the last thing I do, darn it--I don't care HOW strange this must look for anyone passing by in the corridor!

...But just as quickly as hope surged up inside me...it wanes as my storm of pokes no longer get a reaction out of her.

I withdraw my hand dejectedly, practically on my hands and knees now as I hover over the STILL slumbering spy. I was so sure I had it! What am I doing wrong?!

For one maddening moment I contemplate just jumping on her and rattling her about until she finally stirs from however many bottles of booze deep she is right now. But thankfully, such wild thoughts pass with a calming exhale. I'm beginning to see why Lady Cynthia had her doubts now...AND loathed doing such a task herself. I'm beginning to wonder if it's even possible.

As I shuffle from off of her, lest anyone outside get the wrong idea of my intentions with this...fair(?) drunken maiden, she unexpectedly stirs again.

"...What? Backing off already? Laaaame! What kind of man are you?!"

...She speaks. To me. Clearly and coherently. With one eye cracked upon as she maintains her lazy posture. Turning on her side, she props her head up lazily with clear disappointment across her dozy features.

"And here I got all excited when a brave little soldier decided to waddle his way into my super ultra secret lair. My imagination ran wild with all sorts of naughty possibilities...so I pretended to be asleep, just to see what a man might do when he stumbled upon a helpless girl alone in bed."

"U-uh, I..." I stammer back at her. My cheeks are ablaze. I haven't even fully processed the fact that she's actually awake now, let alone all this crazy stuff she's saying now. One thing at a time, Ren, please!

My lack of a satisfactory response only makes her more upset though, as she puffs her cheeks out in a pout that might be considered adorable in other context but this. She thumps a fist against her bedding for good measure.

"So what's the problem, huh?! You were doing so well, too--inching closer and closer, and even starting to get bold near the end there with the poking! I was sure in no time at all those adventurous hands would been roaming ALL over my body!"

"Th-that's not--..." I attempt to explain myself, but in what was already a difficult enough situation to keep a coherent line of thought, said thoughts only go even more off-track as the offended spy begins to feel herself up. My mouth grows ever more dry as I watch her grope away at the abundance of softness just barely contained within the skimpy top that's dangerously close to slipping down entirely. She's kneading those things like pillows!

"You could have had all of this, mister! And I wouldn't have stopped you! No matter WHAT you wanted to do!"

I'm beginning to wonder if she actually IS still asleep... But then again... This is just...Ren, isn't it? Her way of thinking isn't exactly logical, nor coherent at the best of times. I'm really not equipped to handle this. I'll just...go and get Lady Cynthia. I admit defeat. Whatever happens to my position on the royal guard, happens, I suppose.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, L-Lady Ren..." I say, scooting back with a wave of my hands in some poor attempt at a placating gesture. Suddenly the door seems so far away. "There's been some kind of...very big misunderstanding. I'll be going now!"

...Before I can manage to back my way out of the room, a pillow is suddenly flung my way with enough force I can actually hear it 'whoosh' through the air. I duck on instinct, narrowly avoiding getting socked in the face by it. Because feathers or not, when something is thrown THAT hard, it's bound to knock you out!

"Hold it right there!" Ren demands with a booming voice. At this point she's crouched in her bed like some kind of wild animal. Or...predator, rather. With her narrowed eyes set on her prey. Me, obviously. "You're not leaving until we do this properly!"

"W-wha...?" I gawk at her. What on earth is she talking about?! A certain warning comes to mind from Lady Cynthia...one of many that she gave before I set out on this...'quest' to get her out of bed. Apparently one of the worst things you can do when dealing with Ren is to be taken in by her madness. Never acknowledge anything she says. Nor respond to it. It never ends well.

So, with that in mind, I continue to back up, all the way to the end of the room, and--...

"…?"

As I expect to pass through the doorway and into the relatively safe-ish haven of the corridor beyond, I suddenly find myself flattening up against the door.

Huh? Why is it closed? I left it open when I came in, so--...

"G-gah...!" I exclaim aloud in realisation as I spot a pillow at my feet. Of course. When she threw it, she wasn't aiming for me at all! Th-the devious minx of a spy intended to slam the door closed from a distance all along!

Well, whatever. It's a minor obstacle at best. Fumbling for a grip of the ornate handle as I continue to stare back at the spy--who in turn is still looking as serious as ever--I finally manage to grab hold of it, and the push down with the intent of...

Oh.

Oh no.

My blood runs cold. Cold sweat sets in deep. My face must be as pale as the sheets Ren is still crouched on.

At first I thought maybe I just wasn't doing it right...but the more I try to work the handle, the more despair sets in. It's...it's locked...! It's locked?! Why is the door locked now?!

After breaking eye contact with the spy to fully focus on the door, hauling on it with both hands, and even a foot planted on the base of the door for good manner, I finally let go in defeat.

Try as I might, the door refuses to budge. And as far as I can tell, there's no visible lock, latch or keyhole. So why--...

"Heehee... I see you've discovered one of the many little tricks of my Super Ultra Lair™~" a sing-song voice says from behind. I turn to find Ren's serious, almost aggressive look of before replaced with a far more smug grin as she remains perched on the floor. "Unless you know the secret way to open it, the door only opens from one side! Neat, huh?"

"N-neat... Neat?! This is imprisonment!" I reply back to her in a panic. I briefly consider yelling for help, but then all of the servants in the area scattered the moment I approached her room, didn't they? I truly dug my own grave...

"Aw, don't make it sound so scary! At least you're stuck in here with a cute girl, right?" she says sweetly, striking a flashy pose on the ground for good measure. "Don't worry. I'll show you the trick to opening it just as soon as we've finished what we started!"

"A-ahh..."

I flatten myself back up against the sealed door to try and put as much distance as I can between Ren and myself. My... My purity is at risk here. I can feel it. I'd wanted to save it for someone special!

"Now, I believe I was lying in bed like this, fast asleep... And you were about to get especially touchy-feely with me, right?" She crawls back onto her bedding and mimics the lazy posture of before. Probably to a near perfect degree, knowing how crazy she is. "And after that... Well... Who can say what happens next, heehee~"

Tears border my eyes. No matter where I look, I can't find a way out of this situation. I'd...only wanted to impress Lady Cynthia...!

Maybe...I can still negotiate my way out of this...?

Swallowing hard, I glance at the not-sleeping spy and formulate the best possible approach in my head before finally speaking aloud, my voice quivering.

"I-I don't suppose there's a way we could--..."

"Nope."

"But I didn't even--..."

"Nuh-uh. No backing out. You got my hopes up, and now you have to take responsibility! Now less blubbering and more sleepy fondling!" She pats the bed. Aggressively. "Otherwise, maybe you'd like to see the hidden range of interrogation tools I have at my disposal, hmm~? I have one that I like to call Mr. Stabby. Can you guess what he does?"

Realising there's no other way around it, I reluctantly march my way back over to her bedding, head hanging low as if I were a man being marched to his death. I'm sure many would have been ecstatic to be in my position...but this...just isn't how I envisioned my first time!

--

An hour passes. Maybe two. Or three? It was hard to keep track of anything, let alone time, once things got sufficiently heated up in that room.

All I know, is that after an unspecified amount of time has passed, I'm finally allowed to stagger my way out of the 'Super Ultra Secret Lair. Tm.' The less said about what went down in there the better, but with my hair dishevelled as it is now and what little of my armour I could gather back together now hanging off of my drained form, I'm sure I must look like a shell of a man now to any of the maids passing by.

Especially with my eyes as sunken as they are. It might just be my imagination, but I feel like I'm thinner now, too. Like I've lost muscle mass. Like she ACTUALLY drained some kind of life from me.

I take all of two steps forward before I'm forced to lean against the wall for support. My legs are as good as jelly. Even Lady Cynthia's rigorous training regimes don't leave me feeling THIS shattered! Am I even going to be able to make it back to the barracks?!

"Mmmn~ That was just what I needed to perk me up, heehee. Thanks for that!"

Ren exits her room just a moment after me, now clad in her familiar, exotic spywear as she stretches her arms up high with a contented purr. In stark contrast to me, she's as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever. Which is surprising, given how...animated...she got in there. I didn't even know hips could move that fast...!

Letting her arms drop back to her sides, she regards my haggard form for a moment before flashing me something almost resembling a sympathetic smile. "Oops... Maybe I went a little overboard? Hope you're doing okay there, buddy!"

"I...I'll live. I think." I struggle to even look her in the eye as I murmur my response, lest all those hot, sweaty, breathy moments come surging back up and threaten to put me back into a fluster.

"That's the spirit~" A hand is slapped down on my shoulder. I almost crumple on the spot. "And hey, maybe when you're feeling better, you can always pay my Super Ultra Secret Lair another visit. I'd be glad to accommodate you~"

"G-guahhh..."

My body aches in response. I'm not sure if I'll ever recover from this. Physically AND mentally. It was just...too much. Too intense. Too wild. More than any man could handle. Even those that actually WANTED to spend time with her, I'm sure. She's never going to get a husband at this rate!

At that, Ren makes to leave me to my misery and sprint her way down the corridor in that hyper way that she does...but she makes it just a few steps away before stopping on one foot and hopping back over. Oh, Goddess... What now?!

"Ohh, right! I got so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot to ask what you were doing in my room in the first place! Assuming there WAS a reason, heehee~" Still balanced on one foot, Ren sways from side to side to as she awaits my response.

I blink. My mind is a pile of mush given everything that just went down, so even I struggle to remember why I was there, too. But then it all comes back in a rush. Lady Cynthia's stern face. My teary-eyed promise that I'd success, no matter what.

"Oh... Right... A-ah... Lady Cynthia sent me to, uh...wake you up. As she wanted a report...but..." I trail off with a sigh. That was hours ago now. Not that a strict time limit was set on the task...but we're fast approaching the evening! Surely this can't be considered a victory?!

"Hmm... Grumpyboobs did, huh? Guess I should've realised something was up when I found a cute guy in my bed instead of one of her boots lodged in my stomach, heehee~ Gotta say, I think I prefer the guy to the boot."

...Huh. So that's how the captain wakes her up...? That sounds about right.

"I'll go see her, then. And thank her for sending me such a fun present, too! Maybe we can see about turning into a permanent arrangement in the future, hmm? Later! Whooooosh!"

...Before I can even think to wave my hand in parting, the royal spy takes off down the corridor with a tremendous burst of speed. Like a hurricane. Paintings rattle on the wall and maids scream as they attempt to keep their skirts from being lifted in the wind. No wonder they keep their distance...

I sag against the wall with what little strength I have left. A weary breath escapes me. Mission...sort of accomplished, I suppose? Now all I have to do is see what Lady Cynthia makes of my...performance...but honestly, I'm not holding out much hope. This whole day could have gone so much better!

--

It's a slow, arduous journey back to the barracks, and more than one servant has to intervene to help me along the way before I end up planting my face against the ground, but I make it. I actually make it. I'm so happy I could cry. I actually do cry.

And much to my surprise, Lady Cynthia is here, too. Arms crossed over her chest and looking as regal as ever, she regards me with a nod.

"C-captain..." I groan with the last of my strength as I straighten as best I can, hand slapped to my head in something almost resembling a salute. "R-reporting in..."

"Ah. You're back. Sooner than expected, actually. Ren already left a short while ago, so I have a general idea of what happened."

...Guess that saves me some explaining, then. She doesn't seem at all surprised by this outcome, either. I'm sure the words 'I told you so' are a second away from being uttered. Immense shame comes crashing down over as I sag ever lower.

"I'm s-sorry..." I say. Sheepishly. Ashamedly. I already know this is the end of my career. However short-lived it was.

...For whatever reason, though, Lady Cynthia only quirks a brow at this.

"Sorry for what, recruit?"

"For...for making such a mess of this. After talking such a big game. I know you probably expected that report from her HOURS ago, and now..."

"Hmmm. What if I told you that this is the earliest she's ever handed something in?"

"...Eh...?" I straighten up, just a little. I gawk at the captain in disbelief. "But...it's..." My gaze shifts to the window to the side, where there's little sunlight to be found now. It must be well past 6PM now. If this were any other person, I'd be sure I was being messed with. But...Lady Cynthia just isn't that kind of woman. So...

"Indeed." She lets out an irritated huff as she tosses her golden locks. "Getting Ren to do anything on time is next to impossible. And the more you push--or in my case, stomp--the more she resists, leaving things until the last possible moment just out of spite. Honestly, it's hard to believe she's as capable as she is when she wants to be...when most of the time she acts like a giant child."

"But...we were in there for hours..." I mumble aloud, perhaps sharing a bit more than I intended. Yet, again, Lady Cynthia doesn't seem the least bit surprised, nor disgusted. Almost as if this exact result was expected. "How could--..."

"I think you underestimate just how petty, and lazy she is. Even if I wake her right up and threaten to drag her kicking and screaming from her room so that she'll actually do some work for once, very little in the way of productiveness goes on until she's done sulking."

"Ah..."

"So, for her to come bounding up to me of her own accord--even as late in the day as it is--with something actually resembling written work... It's nothing short of a miracle, frankly. Don't get me wrong, her penmanship is still incredibly sloppy and adorned with needless illustrations...but it's sufficient, all the same." She utters the words with a grimace, as if it physically pains her to praise the spy, even in some small, backhanded way. All the while, my jaw is still on the ground.

"I...I'm so confused, though, Captain... Are you actually saying that I did a...GOOD job?"

"Well..." She huffs again. "I suppose in a manner of speaking, yes... But as for whether or not you yourself actually DID anything could be debated, given Ren wasn't shy in filling me in on all of the...ahem...details of your encounter with her."

Right. Ren WAS the one that did most of the...'doing', after all. My cheeks burn ever brighter as I run a sweaty hand through my hair. Did I let my hopes soar just a little too early?

The captain chews on her lip for a moment more before continuing on. Her crimson eyes roam over my ragged and drained figure. "But even with that in mind, it was your presence that seemed to resonate with Ren so much, and put her in such a good mood. So I cannot discount your efforts entirely. So I'll be charitable and say that you yourself did indeed do the job I asked of you, against all odds. Well down, recruit. You can consider your position on the royal guard safe."

"O-oh, thank you so much captain! I promise you won't regret it!"

I bow graciously. Over and over. I'm so happy I could cry. I--...ahh...you already know I AM crying. Why hide it at this point.

It was a bumpy ride...literally... But I persevered! I've saved my job! I've made Lady Cynthia relatively proud of me! Even if it cost my purity! There might be hope yet!

"...Indeed. In fact, I'm so impressed with your...handling...of Ren, that I want to assign you to wake-up duty with her EVERY morning."

"Oh, of course, Lady Cynthia! Thank you! Thank you so much, I won't let you--..." I freeze mid-bow. The words finally register. Still bent forward, I glance up at the captain with growing horror. "...E-eh...? What? E-every morning...you said?"

She nods. Just the faintest smile on her face.

"Every morning. You'd be doing me a great favour, knowing she might actually start getting some work down around here if she has someone like you to keep her in line. I trust you can handle that?"

"A-ah...uhm... Well..." Still half-bowing, I struggle to come up with a plausible way I can wriggle out of it. And the more Lady Cynthia smiles in that radiant way, the less I feel like I can refuse.

"Very good. I appreciate it, recruit. Sincerely. Knowing now that I won't have to dedicate hours of my day to dragging that lazy excuse of a spy out of bed has lifted a considerable weight from my shoulders. I wish you all the best in your new duties."

She pats my shoulder before strolling on off, her steps noticeably lighter than before. And I think I actually heard her humming near the end there as she left the barracks...

As for me... I'm still...stuck in a bow. I can't...unbow. My entire body is just...frozen stiff.

I'm lucky to have survived today. And I have to endure this EVERY morning with Ren, now?! What...what just happened? How... Why...

Did I just get played here? Surely Lady Cynthia wouldn't be the scheming sort. She's too honourable for that! But I can't help but wonder if this was her plan all along. Or maybe Ren had a hand in arranging this, too? They DID just get done speaking after all.

Ahh... I wonder how long I'll survive... Am I allowed to quit? Or am I in too deep now? Stuck between a royal spy and a royal captain.

Can I even call myself a soldier now? Or am I just a glorified alarm clock. Or...not even that. But a toy?

Goddess, if you truly do exist... Have mercy on my soul.