In Another World with JUST MONIKA 132 This Child Speaks Truths

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I chuckled and rubbed the top of Arma's head. The little girl gave back a toothy grin and her ears flicked up enthusiastically. "Gehehehe!" she giggled. "Mister Clown, you look weird!"

/"As always this child speaks truths."/

"Chahahaha," I laughed. Apparently noble attire here in Mismede was distinctly Middle Eastern attire. In fact, almost exactly like Alladin's street rat attire so if it's going to be like that I thought might as well go full tilt into it. Yes of course the animated version. All that was required was to take off the white undershirt. Stretchy white pants, check. Purple open vest, ok. Red sash, red fez, double check. Bared nekkid hairless chest, checkmate.

"Ain'tchu cold?"

"I am always cool," I replied smugly.

In the corner of my vision I could see Monika cross her arms and winced. She was also wearing the classic pink "I Dream of Jeannie" outfit. (1) With her long brown hair tied up into a high ponytail and her arbitrarily magical nature, the costume fit her quite well.

But I was wearing an Aladdin costume with frosted white sunglasses indoors(2). She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and just let it go. Let it goo. She doesn't care any more.

"So, how have you been? Did you get some sleep yet? It's been a long journey."

Arma shrugged. "I gots a nap, and sis wanted me to just sleep but it's *free food*, yunno."

I nodded. "Perfectly legit. Where is she anyway?" If the King and Queen of Mismede are already here, then what makes a mere diplomat worth more in being fashionable late?

/"You're forgetting the others that aren't here, Player."/

Indeed, we haven't seen hide nor hair of Elze and Linze and Yae and… oh. Yumina.

Yumina Ernea Crown Princess of Belfast.

/"We keep trolling Yumina so much and she just keeps taking it with that cutely defiant look on her face that we have forgotten she is actually *politically significant*."/

I glanced aside to see someone in a formal suit discreetly trying to angle his way inwards to overhear.

"Mister Liooon!" Arma threw her arms up and shouted happily.

Lyon Blitz sheepishly abandoned all attempts at stealth and just approached directly. He was wearing a full dining suit and jacket. "Hello Miss Arma. How are you? Do you know where your sister might be?"

"Oh she's with da other girls. She's coming in laters."

"Arma? Where did you run off to? Oh there you are."

"Daad! Over here! Look! Look!" She pointed at us. "This here's Mister Lion. And this is Mister Clown."

A portly beastman with a rounded face and brown hair with short fox ears drew near. He too was wearing Western-style clothing. That was the theme actually, those of us from Belfast would be wearing Mismede costumes, while Mismede natives who were on overseas duty would wear Belfastian fashion.

"A pleasure to meet you all. I am Olba Strand, Arma's father. I hope she has not been a bother."

"S-surely not! I am L-Lyon Blitz, a member of Belfast's first order of knights."

"I have heard that Belfast's knights have been through a difficult journey. Please have my heartfelt thanks for protecting my daughters." Olba bowed low and then held his hand out.

The young blond knight bowed swiftly in return and shook hands. "Thank you, sir! It was completely my honor to guard Miss Olga Strand, sir!"

Then he turned to me and asked "Mister… Clown? Pardon me, and please excuse my daughter's rudeness." If Lyon was Mister Lyon, what's a Mister Clown? Klaus? Cloude? Something like that? "You are actually-?"

"I'm B"

/"You are not Batman."/

Tch.

Lyon coughed into his fist and introduced me instead. "Sir Zah is Sir Zah Playa von Chara, the leader of the adventurer party that chiefly managed security through the journey. He is also Her Highness Yumina's teacher in the magical and martial arts."

"Ah! Forgive our rudeness, milord!" He bowed quickly. "Arma, don't be so rude."

"Don't worry about it. I don't mind it at all. This little girl speaks truths."

Olba gave back a benign merchant's smile and showed only blank confusion through his eyes. It was clear he didn't recognize that name and that was good. Even though it was witnessed by most of his ministers and military commanders, and no matter how much King Jamukha wanted to spread it far and wide that he finally found a worthy rival, the news of their King getting his ass beat was an excellently kept secret.

The news about the dragon attacking the village of Eld was full of many outlandish rumors that the real report just sounded all the more fake news. In turn, we began to chat with Olba about his business.

I gave Lyon a side glance.

He gave me a small wince implying 'Do I have to?'

I soundlessly mouthed out 'Do it'.

He coughed into his fist again and asked "Mayhaps… do you know of Reflet's Red Chicken Man?"

Olba blinked. Then he jabbed a pudgy finger towards my face and shouted "AAAAAAAAH!!!"

Eyes turned at his sudden declaration and he blushed. He waved and bowed "Sorry, sorry, my apologies, nothing to see here," towards the other guests.

Then he turned back towards me with a glittering and determined gaze. A merchant's will rose around him like an impervious stone mountain.

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Olba Strand was a merchant that chiefly dealt with high value goods from Belfast. He didn't personally know Dolan, a mere spice merchant from Reflet. But Dolan was proselytizing heavily to all and sundry about chess and was just as enthusiastic about badmouthing the red fool that dared call himself the Grandmaster of the Game.

"I would say I'm surprised about how quickly the King's Game was spreading here in Mismede, but I'm more surprised that you're even bothering to try and get a supplier for the game. It's not like it's difficult to make a local copy." People were already making knockoff boards in Belfast.

"We are not actually very clear yet on the rules, but we know it is very popular among the nobility and travelers. It is known to be a favorite of the King of Belfast. We heard that there is some sort of title to go with it?"

"Mmm. Only officially approved boards made with standard materials may be used for ranking matches. While it's not like cards where small imperfections may be used to cheat, every small detail might affect concentration. The same colors, the same weights, the overall handfeel of things… that eliminates one more factor to make sure that it's all about skill between players. It is the sort of game in which one person can literally be the best in the world."

Olba nodded. "I am interested in not just selling game boards but setting up a place to play games. A salon of some sort perhaps. It is not gambling if it is all about skill, is that not so?"

I grinned. "Let us talk about franchising. I have… conditions." Chicken conditions.

Monika sighed. /"Player, at least popularize the Amazing Aloha. Burgers are much more convenient for gaming than chicken meals. Greasy hands are bad for concentration."/

She looked towards the tables and wrinkled her nose. /"I really wish I had taste buds. Your reality is still so far away from me. While I can vaguely remember the experience of eating, I know these memories aren't really things that happened. I wish I could cling to nostalgia as strongly as you do, sometimes. That too is a form of love."/

I glanced towards Lyon again. Might as well help a bro out. "I have a set with me, but I have many prior commitments. Lyon, could I impose on you to bring it over tomorrow? Olga already knows the rules, and you can bring the guidebook for tournament play. You two might help demonstrate."

"M-me?" Lyon began to fidget again. "Is… is that proper?!"

Haha dude, just relax. You're going to ruin your chances if you look too eager. I turned back towards Olba and said "Sir Lyon is the son of General Leon Blitz, General of Belfast's Royal Army. The King's Game teaches strategic planning also. Olga and Lyon have already been playing against each other."

"Hoh! A son of that famed General Leon? I would be very glad for you to come over to our house. There are many things I would like to ask you about." He beamed at the nervous young knight. A young foreign noble was possibly a good match. Business was just business.

Lyon's expression was going 'do you HAVE to phrase it that way?!' and 'what are you getting me intooo?!' He stood up straight and said starchily like a proper soldier "Yes, sir! I'll bring it over tomorrow, sir!"

"Nyeheheh, sis will like that. She will!"

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There was some commotion over at the far side of the room. Yumina and the rest of the group had arrived and the King had gone over to meet them. Even though this was a world without photographs, presentation mattered ever so much more so. It was explained to me why they didn't all just arrive together with the King and all, as that would imply neither favoring nor acquiescing a difference in power between the two nations. Wouldn't Yumina arriving later imply greater importance?

The answer was simple. King Jamukha was so huge that arriving with the girls would make him look even sillier standing above everyone else – girls, his wife, *actual children* - like a tree in the middle of a grassy field.

To my surprise Olga appeared wearing a white ballroom gown cut in an almost princess style. Yumina and the girls were wearing more towards Indian saris. Elze had a green dress with a red sash, Linze was green with blue, Yae was red with purple, and Yumina was white dress with a gold sash. Yumina and Olga Strand arrived ahead with the other three walking behind.

Lyon stared awestruck as she walked. A certain hairpin was in her hair. Their eyes met, and both of them blushed and look away. Arma grinned. Olba began to thoughtfully rub his goateed chin.

After everyone got an eyeful of the notables, it was time to sit down and prepare for the feast.

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"What even are you wearing?" Elze asked. "Did you forget something?"

/"Quickly, compliment their dresses in return!"/ Monika's Social App advised.

"I think you all look lovely."

"I… I think it shows a different kind of charm," said Linze, looking away. Then she glanced back at me, blushed, and looked away again. Then her eyes drifted back again to my exposed skin. A few months of scientific workouts (and unexceptional as the Silver Moon Inn may be, at least Micah fed us really well) on a baseline healthy body was enough for some gaaaains.

I grinned and posed as if I were a Great Mazinger firing a Breast Burn. (3) Yumina turned to look away, and then turned her head back to stare at me with a burningly intent gaze. I stared back at her. It was like her eyes were beaming SHAME SHAME SHAME SHAME and I was intercepting her eye beams with similar words of GAINS GAINS GAINS GAINS. Word blocks were falling onto the empty white table between us.

It was extremely fair, I mean – there were also showing off their bellybuttons, weren't they? That's traditional dress.

Eventually Yumina blushed and looked away, huffing. Victory.

Elze just crossed her arms and snorted. "If you end up looking like that overly muscled meathead, no one actually likes that much meat."

"Elze, that's lese majeste, (4)" I retorted. "Also the Queen looks, you know, pretty content with things."

/"Heh."/

I turned to look at Yae, and then my eyes slid away. Whoa. She was hiding large secrets behind her usual baggy pink kimono and big front waist bow, wasn't she? She looked a bit insulted, as if I were treating her less than a warrior. She puffed out her chest in indignation and that's just making it worse, Yae.

Elze smirked at my tacit admission of being embarrass-able too. Yes I have always been a hypocrite, shaddup.
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And then we feasted.

And then we drank.

There was no such thing as a legal drinking age limit in this pseudo Renaissance era magic world.

This did not turn out well.

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(1) http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/6100000/BarbarEden-as-Jeannie-i-dream-of-jeannie-6161331-450-597.jpg

(2) https://dl.dropbox.com/s/7vb91rk6ed96gu8/aladdin-edit.jpg?dl=0

(3) http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v463/Goldgaigar/SOC/Gx01r_Plus/TN_Great_Mazinger22.jpg

(4) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L%C3%A8se-majest%C3%A9

Chapter end