"Ughh, I feel awful, man... Urgh... Blech!"
Besides the room spinning wildly, I've stained the floor with a puddle of green vomit containing yesterday's food and a lot of the wine I drank. The hangover hit harder than the Duke's fists, and honestly, staying in bed all day seems like a really good idea.
Yeah, just collapse onto this fragrant bed with the feather pillow, forget about the annoying morning activities. Father wanted to put me with a magic tutor, but no way in hell am I going to fall for one of those mages. First, in the original work of Sword of the Iron Maiden, they're terrible compared to the main cast and barely know any truly good spells.
Maybe it works in comparison to normal people, but how on earth is dealing with royalty considered normal?
"Darius, wake up now!"
Who is bothering me at this hour? The pounding on the door doesn't stop for a minute, which only reinforces this infernal migraine that feels like a bandana tightening around my forehead.
"Shit..."
With the strength of a stretching mouse, I drag myself out of bed and walk towards the door, turning the doorknob. The person I least expected first thing in the morning, my dear stepmother Leliana, greets me with her ever-present fan covering her disgusted expression and rolls her eyes upon seeing my utterly ruined state.
Good morning to you too, you bitch.
"What have you been up to this time, boy?!"
"What? I haven't been up to anything, I was just sleeping..."
"You haven't? Then why is there a group of cooks waiting for you outside, this early in the morning?!"
Group of cooks? What?
I quicken my pace towards the window, only to be met by a ready entourage outside the palace sharpening their knives on the pavement, each one scarier than the last. In fact, if it weren't for their white clothes and backpacks, they could easily be mistaken for mercenaries!
And among these people, I recognize a pot-bellied man with thinning hair, the same one from yesterday, that Vivandir guy!
Wait, but what did I agree on with him? Use your brain, Darius, what did you do yesterday?
I got really drunk, then went straight to Elizia, realized I reincarnated, and then... Ah...
How on earth did I not realize?! I did all those things drunk! I shouldn't even gone after Ravenna, much less conspired to screw over Count Vandric knowing the devil that's in his mansion! And now? Should I just tell them to leave? But if I send them away, Ravenna will be executed by the MC later, and I'll be cursed for the rest of my life.
"So? Aren't you going to answer, boy? I'll send them away, it seems you've stirred up trouble with the poor commoners again. How shameful..."
Leliana shakes her fan and her head in denial. At the same moment, I grab her arm, preventing her from moving another step.
"What do you think you're...?!"
"No need, ma'am! I'll handle this!"
"You?"
She raises an eyebrow high, doubting my very words. I don't blame her, being sensible, I'd do the same. Anyway, since I got myself into this mess, I have to figure it out somehow. I let go of my dear stepmother's arm and narrow my eyes, heading down the corridor towards the main gate.
The hall doors open before me with ceremonial slowness, as if I were about to meet the delinquent gang from Hell's Kitchen.
The so-called cooks form a strange line, some with pots, others with bags of ingredients and wooden spoons the size of an infantry saber. Right in the center, with his belly almost tearing his apron from being so bloated, stands Vivandir, that doughy traitor of common sense.
"Ah, Darius! Finally! We've been waiting since sunrise!"
"Good... morning?" I mumble, raising a hand in a wave, but preferring to block the sun falling on my alcohol-swollen face. "Why the hell did you bring this crowd?"
"Was I supposed to come alone?"
"Dude, who brings a fleet to pick up a new member?!?"
I feel like punching Vivandir so hard in the face that he'll turn into a star in the sky with all that extra weight in his gut. You have to be really dumb to do something like this! Okay, let's stay calm.
I'm already too deep in this hole to get out now. If I refuse here, Ravenna dies and I blame myself for her death, if I go, I have very high chances of getting myself killed in the process. Well, I'm already at rock bottom, so what's a fart to someone who's already crapped their pants?
"Can you give me a change of clothes? I'll go change right away and we'll leave."
Vivandir finally smiles after the scolding I gave him and hands over the white cook's outfit along with the hat. Why on earth they walk around Imperial City like that, I have no idea, but it seems I'll have to blend in with them.
"Are you really going with this bunch of ill-dressed bakers?" Leliana's voice catches me by surprise.
I turn my face and there she is: leaning against one of the main entrance columns, her fan half-lowered, eyes squinted as if trying to decipher the absurd scene before her. I knew she'd never let me off easy like this, that woman is like a pebble in your shoe, it won't come out even if you take a knife and try to pry it off.
At times like these, the best way is to insist until you see her give up trying to stop me with an absurd lie.
"Yes, it's volunteer work. A charity program to integrate nobles into the common people's routine. It's... it's a modern thing, you know?"
"Do you think I'm an idiot, Darius?"
Damn. I'm not even good for that.
"Okay, it's not charity. I..." I run a hand over my face, look at Vivandir and his loyal squires armed with ladles and wooden spoons, "I'm going to help test some new recipes. Magical... uh... bread. New stuff."
"Magical. Understandable."
"Look, it's hard to explain, okay? But I swear I know what I'm doing."
She crosses her arms, walking towards me. Her light dress sways along with the fan that again covers her face, hiding a mocking smile. I bet I'll be a topic of conversation in her coffee gossip sessions with her friends later.
"Darius, what are you trying to do this time? Another unbailable crime against the family's reputation?"
"It's nothing much. I just want to walk around the city, live a little, do something on my own."
"You never do 'nothing much.' The last time you tried to do something on your own, the servants spent three weeks scrubbing red paint off the ceiling of the East Wing."
"This time it's different. I swear."
She stops in front of me, looking deep into my eyes, searching for any trace of tremor. This is a classic Leliana strategy when she wants to catch lies, one I was conditioned to face for years to circumvent various problems.
"Listen, just... trust me. If it goes wrong, you can report me to the Duke. You can have me whipped too, if you want."
"That sounds tempting."
"It does."
She hesitates, but then takes a step back. The fan snaps shut.
"Very well, lunatic. Just come back alive and don't stain the family name more than you already have."
"I swear our reputation will remain in the same quagmire as always."
Leliana rolls her eyes, turns her back, and disappears down the corridor. I admit, that woman is incredibly attractive, if she weren't my stepmother and a tremendous asshole, I'd go for it. At least Duke Moonlight has good taste.
I put on the ridiculous white outfit, perch the crooked hat on my head, and turn to face the most dangerous confectionery troop in the empire.
"Alright, lads. March to the east gate!" Vivandir shouts excitedly.
One of the cooks blows on a spoon as if it were a bugle.
Escorted by bakers, hooded in shame, and guided by drunk decisions, Darius Moonlight, aka old me, embarks on the most stupid crime of his reincarnation.
I seriously need to rethink my life choices...