The Gamer Chapter 313 - The princess’ pride (Patreon)

Three minutes before midnight, John knocked on Lydia’s door. There was some creaking heard, footsteps on the floor and finally the princess opening it. She was wearing a nightgown, sadly not of the particularly sexy kind but instead looking like she was comfortable sleeping in it while also being able to hold an emergency press conference without looking too ridiculous. Dark green, it clad her like a uniform as she uttered three simple words, “It is late.”

“I know,” John said in an apologetic tone, “but I knew you were still awake, so I thought I’d come to talk.” “How did you know that?” Lydia wondered as she stepped away from the door. As it was left open, he took that as his invitation and stepped inside. “I possessed your window through Jack and checked,” he told her the truth.

Lydia furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the window. “Is it still possessed?” she asked. “Yup.” The princess narrowed her eyes, “Interesting, I used to be able to notice this quite easily. If you hadn’t told me, I would never have seen it.” “I guess it is because my levels are getting higher and higher,” John presented a theory. The fact that Possession had hit level 100 a fair bit ago probably also helped.

“Likely. That you can just spy on me without my noticing is discomforting, however,” Lydia sat down and instinctively started braiding her hazel hair that she had opened for the night; “What do you require?” “I require nothing, just wanted to talk to you for a bit,” John said and took one of the practical looking chairs, placing it close so they could talk comfortably.

“Talk,” Lydia made an amused noise, “is that what you call sex these day?” “Did you just make a joke?” John wondered. “No… and yes,” the princess stretched out her legs and rested them on John’s thighs, “but if that isn’t your goal, I would be pleased if you could help me relax instead.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” John said, reaching for her feet, and then began lightly massaging them, “but the intention is the same. How are you doing?” “Fine,” she lied, as he immediately knew. “Lydia, you know I am not an idiot. Lying is unlike you in the first place,” he sighed as he felt the tense muscles in her soles straining even further; “Come on, it’s just between you and me.”

“…Yes, you are right,” Lydia exhaled, and her stiff posture was replaced with a relaxed slouching. “I would have liked to fuck you again, but I doubt you would let me have a go at your ass so late in the night when you have a fight tomorrow. Peak performance and all that,” John tried to ease the mood a bit further by using a joking tone.

“That is the correct assumption; I am still a bit sore from the two times you came inside me earlier,” despite her laid-back position, her face stayed a disciplined mask; “What do you want to talk about then?” “Just this and that,” John smiled as his nimble hands managed to lure a satisfied sigh from the princess’ red lips.

“Let me rephrase my question then: why do you want to talk then?” Lydia changed the question. “Because you have your fight tomorrow,” he answered without a moment of doubt. The iron eyes that he felt on the side of his head, his own downcast, watching out for what his hands were doing, were disapproving.

“I am the last girl in your little harem that needs what you plebeians refer to as ‘pep-talk’,” she reprimanded him. “Normally, I would agree with that. You are not fighting anyone, however; you are fighting your ex,” he pointed out, swallowing his disagreement with how the adjective ‘little’ really wasn’t fitting for his harem.

The metal mage had no immediate response to that, so they just sat there for a few minutes, John slowly rubbing the tension out of her feet. Silver moonlight softly shone in through the window, the only source of illumination in the otherwise quiet room.

“I am not happy about you reading me like this,” Lydia finally announced, wiggling her toes like a displeased crowd. “Get used to it, it's not like people our age should be this ‘right’ in the head after all,” John laughed.

“What do you mean by that?” “I mean that you are 19 and I am 18; we shouldn’t be able to just sit here and be who we are. You should be a girl still getting over her first relationship, and I should be sitting in a classroom staring at butts that I, for some reason, am sure I will never tap. Instead, you are talking about taking over a nation, and I am trying to not lay claim to yet more butts too quickly.”

“What a wonderfully succinct example,” Lydia’s dry tone made him chuckle again. “I don’t mean by that that I disapprove of how you aren’t attached to Maximillian. As your current lover, I couldn’t be happier that you are able to be this sober about your past. All I am saying is that neither of us should be this wise this young,” John continued on.

“You have your powers to thank for that,” she pointed out. “And you your grandfather,” he answered. “He straightened me out, but this achievement is only partly his,” the princess answered; “I used to be less… how does Rave put it again? I did not use to walk around with a stick up my behind, or maybe it was just a different stick.”

“I find it hard to imagine you in any way other than your current self,” John admitted. “Believe me, I was quite the energetic child.” “When I think of little Lydia, all I can see is a four-year-old in a too big chair fixing her napkin and asking when rations will be served,” he joked.

The noble giggled, and John was happy that at last that one worked. Smiling, her eyes were looking ahead, yet nowhere at all, “No, I was a normal kid, maybe even a bit too active. Climbing fences, chasing cats, hiding from my mother in the bushes when she wanted me to come inside… until all of it deconstructed rather violently.” 

John’s hand stopped working for a moment. ‘Just stay silent and don’t ruin her opening her heart to you,’ he stopped himself from asking any stupid things before letting his hands resume their activity. Having noticed, Lydia stubbed his stomach with the one foot that wasn’t enjoying his attention right now.

“Be honoured, I don’t talk about this lightly,” Lydia told him; “Despite all of your flaws, from your perversion to your unwillingness to stay and serve me, I do love you.” “I love you for your flaws,” John earnestly stated, grabbing the foot that was poking him and raising it up, “from your overly earnest character to your short fuse,” he kissed her foot, “and I am honoured that you would open up to me in whatever way you want.”

Lydia swung her feet off his lap and repositioned her chair so that their kneecaps were almost touching as they were sitting. The way she leaned forwards seemed to beg for John to only look at her as she continued.

“The me that you know today was indeed forged by my grandfather, but what I had learned to get there was that the world wasn’t a good place. Even he couldn’t have worked poor materials, to put it cynically, and as they say: hard times make hard people.

“When my mother died, I barely even knew what was happening. The good life I had until that point unravelled within mere moments. At the start, we, my father and I, had enough money, insurance and the value of our house kept us afloat even though he entered a state of shock.

“It was as if all will to live had just been taken from him in one evening. It had been showing itself during her sickness, but what he barely kept together crumbled the moment she was gone. If he hadn’t fallen to shock, I probably would have.

“However, I had something to take care of. My father would have simply followed her into the grave if I hadn’t taken care of him. Suddenly, I was no longer a child but the only person who could save him. I could have done so many things to make it easier on me. Inform the correct state-branches, seek out help from people we knew, just something.

“But the me from back then didn’t know what to do. It is not even ten years back, yet it feels like an eternity has passed since, like the girl back then and me are barely even related. I worked what little jobs I found and stole to get by, had to cook and clean but also look after myself to keep up appearances.

“Each passing day, I was sure it would get better tomorrow. That was what kept me going. One day, father would snap out of it, surely, and then the two of us could pick up where mother had left us. She would have wanted it that way.

“It didn’t get better. First he drank, then he gambled our savings away, then he got into fights regularly. He had woken up again after months of depression only to find himself seeking out whatever little validation of being alive he could find. He was addicted to being addicted to something. My father was a pathetic man, and then, when my grandfather had found us, he...” Lydia took a controlled breath through clenched teeth, “…he just…” a moment’s hesitation, “…died.”

John didn’t expect that sudden harshness, neither did he expect such genuine anger. It was so plain to see on her face and to hear in her voice. He reached out for her hands, folded between her legs, and squeezed them gently. The gesture seemed to calm her down, slowly.

She longed for more, though, and soon fell towards him and into his arms. “Are you not going to tell me I should try to forgive my father or something?” she muttered as his arms closed behind her back; “Anything of that nature.”

“Sadly, I know more than you said because of how you said it,” he mumbled back, and Lydia tensed up. Ripping herself out of their shared embrace, she stared at him. He gave an apologetic smile, “I am too clever for my own good sometimes. I don’t know the details, and I don’t plan to pry. Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Thank you,” Lydia whispered and went back into his arms. Even now, she didn’t cry. This girl was tougher than what anyone should burden on such young shoulders. Not even this fazed her beyond the weakness she allowed herself. ‘She will be a good ruler,’ John thought, ‘as long as she doesn’t close her heart in the process of masking her own weakness.’

He felt like he could help with that, at least, by reminding her of the better sides of being close with someone. “Let’s go to your bed,” he suggested, caressing the back of her head. “I thought we agreed on not adding yet more intercourse on today,” she stated, her voice back to her usual ironclad honesty.

“Way to go to make assumptions about me,” John acted offended; “How about we just cuddle while falling asleep?” “Wouldn’t your contract loving girlfriend be opposed to that?” Lydia offered a question in return. “That is a weird insult coming from you,” he laughed.

Then he finally kissed her, “Jane will manage for the night. As a matter of fact, that’s what I told her before I came here.” “…I do not look forward to sitting across from you on the negotiating table,” Lydia said as she took his offer and the two of them went to her bed.

“That’s a pretty high compliment,” he thanked as he undressed. Even if he wouldn’t have sex, he very much preferred sleeping naked. “You deserve it,” the princess whispered pulling the blanket up.

And the world kept turning.