My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 912 Girls' Talk, Part 1

"Well, quite the funny little gathering we are, aren't we?"

Amanda started to pace. Soldier-like. No, sergeant-like actually. One step after the other, doing her darndest to give her words that much-needed grandiose she hoped to instill among her assembled quartet.

"All different people, from all different walks of life, upbringings, and yet, somehow through the quantum bundle strings of fate, we're all connected—intertwined—with but a single tiny knot tying us all together. Now, I'm sure we all know what that knot might possibly refer to, yes? Well, anyone?"

Gleaming quickly, Amanda assessed her audience's reaction. Irene looked anything but indulgent. Annoyed seemed to be the running theme with her, and unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be changing at all anytime soon. On the other hand, she wasn't sure if Adalia was even still lucid at all, staring with a hollow gaze that still seemed to be trying to catch up from five minutes ago.

Only Ash stood out as the bright shining beacon of exception. Listening to her every word attentively, and promptly replying just as diligently.

"Could it be Master, perhaps?"

"Very good, Ash. Yes, that's right,"?Amanda said, grateful to be spared from the momentary dead air. "Your Master, my boyfriend, Adalia's, uh… consort? And as well as Irene's—"

"I do hope you're getting to your main point soon," Irene interjected, muttering quietly yet sounding oh so deafening.

"The main point is, one way or another, we've all been helplessly lulled by his charm, and in some ways more, umm…" Amanda's eyes darted toward the Succubus, before looking away almost immediately. "...more questionable than others, we'll say…"

"We'll say?" Irene repeated, evidently catching Amanda's straying gaze. "Meaning what, exactly?"

"So now—here we all are," Amanda looked around the room, paying absolutely no attention to the piercing scowl in the corner of her eyes. "Four ladies. Each one in their own unique, loving, and blossoming relationship… but yet only one guy to share between them. Alright, do you all see what I'm trying to get at here?"

"It is… frustrating…" Adalia spoke up from her side of silence. "All of us… loving him… together…"

Unable to put it any better herself, Amanda simply nodded.

"Is it truly?" Ash asked, frowning. "I, for one, am of the belief that I am already bestowed the greatest privilege of being able to love my Master the way I do now. To ask, to bemoan for any more… to me… it is inconceivable a notion."

"That's because it is," Irene said, fist against her cheek, and patience running thin. "Amanda, you're propagating an issue that doesn't exist. The problem you're going on about—it's just a caveat, a given. One we've all silently adhered and agreed to being in this kind of relationship. It's just the way things are."

"And I'm with you all a hundred percent on that," Amanda quickly cut in. "Love the dummy. I love him lots. He's a dream, it's a gift. I'm with you all the way. But—like—and what? Does that mean we have to be forever resigned to twisting and tugging at his arms seeing who gets a turn with him next? Don't you think there could be a more efficient way to go about this whole thing?"

Again, she gave the room a thorough look, this time, with Irene being the most receptive from the crowd.

"You did not call me all the way out here for this," the detective said, rubbing a hand across her furrowed brow. "We are not having this kind of conversation right now."

"Yes, we are. C'mon, Irene!" Amanda urged. "We got seven days in a week, thirty to thirty-one days in a month, while there are four of us in a single relationship. I'm sure there's a way for us all to divide and capitalize, don't you think?"

"No," Irene shot up from her seat, shaking her head exasperatedly as she made great strides toward the front door. "This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. You can count me out."

"W-Wait, wait—hold on! Irene!"

Amanda took a step after her, paused, and immediately shot her hand forward, cutting through the empty air. At once, the handle quickly slipped away from Irene's grip, and with an echoing slam, the door swung close with a rattle.

Slowly, Irene turned around again, her eyes narrowing immediately to the misty white glow radiating from Amanda's finger.

"You know, magic isn't a toy that you can just use when you wish to," she said, giving her a scathing look. "I'm sure your boyfriend gave you that gift trusting that you know that."

"Yes, well, I'm actually as responsible as it gets," Amanda said in assurance, dropping her arm, and her ring away from her disapproving glare. "That was just for dramatic effect."

"You realize you're contradicting yourself?"

"Look, just sort this out with us! What's the problem here? Are you just not up for sharing or something?"

"Listen to yourself—is this seriously a conversation you want to be having?" Irene asked her. "Having our own dedicated days, visits, appointments. We're not sharing custody over a child, you know?"

"Well, I mean…" Amanda squirmed in place, pursing her lips tighter. "...if you wanna talk age-gaps, then…"

"Do not even go there," Irene warned.

"Alright, alright, I'm just… okay, listen," Amanda took another step forward. "Wouldn't it be better not having to worry if your date's already booked for the day all the time? To have your own time, not borrowed time, to have with him? I mean, just think about it. You won't have to worry about the rest of us. It'll be just you and him."

"Our… own… time…" Adalia softly mused, the gray in her eyes swirling more lively. "Me… and… him…"

"I do not find it such a disagreeable prospect," Ash said. "So long as we are all in mutual agreement, that is."

But Irene continued to shake her head. "This is so stupid."

"You have no idea how much I agree with you," Amanda heaved vehemently. "Believe me, I'd rather not be talking about this… but this is gonna have to be a necessary conversation if we're gonna have this kind of relationship going forward."

"Talk amongst yourselves, then, if you must," Irene whirled around again, hand firmly wrapped around the door handle. "This isn't a conversation for me."

The door was just barely ajar before Amanda brazenly jumped in again with a loud, audible huff.

"Alright, fine, suit yourself," she called out at her. "You leave, you know what that means? More days for the rest of us! Isn't that right, girls? Oh, yeah—Valentine's, let's see who's the lucky one to take that. Weekends are up for grabs! Maybe we can have some exceptions on special occasions too."

"Nice try," Irene said. "But that's not going to—"

"Oh, and his birthday too, can't forget that either!" Amanda declared loudly. "Come on, let's find out who will—"

There was another deafening slam, the front door closing shut once more with the same definite rattle. A ferocious demon must have broken free from the depths of hell with the vicious snarl that briefly eclipsed everything else.

Then, in the next moment, Irene was back in her seat. Trembling arms crossed tightly around her and a constant flicker in one of her brows.

Despite it, Amanda simply beamed.

"Well, well," she said, hiding her smugness with calculated politeness. "I don't suppose there's something you'd like to add to the discussion, do you?"

Irene slowly closed her eyes.

"Friday, Saturdays," she said, letting out a weary, defeated sigh. "I won't take any exceptions."