The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis rolled up his sleeves, cracking his knuckles dramatically as he surveyed the broken carriage wheel. He turned to face his companions, flashing them a grin.

"Alright, everyone, just leave it to me. Fixing things is my specialty—especially when there are lovely ladies involved." He winked at Lira, who only shook her head with a smile.

Vyrelda eyed him skeptically, arms crossed.

"Are you sure you can handle it, Your Highness? This is not the time for jokes."

"Relax, Vyrelda. I've got this," Mikhailis reassured her, his tone playful but with an edge of seriousness. He then gestured toward the surrounding area.

"Besides, it's almost nightfall. Even if I fixed this thing right now, we'd barely get anywhere before needing to set up camp. So how about you and Cerys start setting up while I do my thing here?"

Cerys frowned, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

"Why not just move a little further before stopping? We could cover more ground and find a better spot."

Mikhailis turned to her, his usual lazy demeanor fading for a moment.

"It's not just about fixing the wheel, Cerys. It's about making sure we're safe. If we moved on now, we'd end up setting up camp in the dark, which isn't exactly ideal if we want to avoid surprises." His gaze softened slightly.

"Trust me on this one."

Vyrelda nodded, her eyes studying him.

"Alright, Your Highness. We'll get started." She turned to Cerys, her voice firm.

"Come on, Cerys. Let's prepare the camp."

Mikhailis watched as they walked away, then turned back to the broken wheel, rubbing his hands together.

"Alright, let's see what we're dealing with." He crouched down, inspecting the damage closely.

<The axle is bent at a forty-degree angle, compromising the structural integrity of the wheel. Estimated time for repair: approximately two hours with current resources.>

"Thanks for that, Rodion," Mikhailis muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Like I couldn't see that myself."

<Just ensuring that you are aware of the situation, Mikhailis. Shall I proceed with further analysis of potential failure points?>

Mikhailis sighed, shaking his head.

Of course, Rodion would turn this into a full-blown lecture.

"Yeah, yeah, just keep me posted if you find anything else."

He gathered the tools from the carriage, laying them out in an orderly fashion. Lira knelt beside him, her eyes following his movements.

"Need a hand, Your Highness? Or do you have everything under control?"

Mikhailis glanced at her, smirking.

"You can hold the tools and look pretty while I do the hard work." He winked, and Lira rolled her eyes, though a small smile played on her lips.

"I'll do my best, then," she said, her voice filled with mock seriousness.

As Mikhailis worked, Rodion continued his constant stream of input, displaying calculations and potential problems on his glasses. Mikhailis began by assessing the wheel's alignment, using a traditional level tool to gauge any imbalance. He then used a wrench to adjust the bolts holding the wheel in place, applying steady pressure to avoid causing further damage.

He also utilized some unconventional tricks—like using a makeshift lever made from a nearby branch to lift and realign the axle—a trick he learned from watching carriage repairmen during his travels. He carefully propped the branch beneath the axle, adjusting it just enough to realign the parts without breaking anything further.

Mikhailis used a strip of cloth soaked in oil to lubricate the joints, ensuring the wheel would turn smoothly once reattached. Occasionally, he muttered under his breath at Rodion's commentary, rolling his eyes at the AI's unnecessary reminders.

"Thanks, Rodion. Really helpful," Mikhailis replied, his tone flat.

Lira watched him, her eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

"I thought you'd be done by now. You're taking longer than I expected, Your Highness."

Mikhailis shot her a mock glare.

"It's all about making sure the carriage is stable for a journey of this caliber, Lira. You wouldn't want us breaking down again, would you?"

She chuckled softly.

"I suppose not. Though I do enjoy watching you work so hard."

He shook his head, focusing back on the wheel. Vyrelda walked over, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"Your Highness, how much longer?"

"Patience, Vyrelda," Mikhailis said, not looking up.

"Good craftsmanship takes time. Besides, I wouldn't want you complaining about shoddy repairs later."

Vyrelda huffed, folding her arms.

"Just make sure it's done properly. We can't afford delays."

"Trust me," Mikhailis said, tightening the final bolt, "when have I ever let you down?"

Well, I guess a lot.

Vyrelda raised an eyebrow but said nothing, turning away to return to Cerys.

Mikhailis finally wiped his forehead, standing up straight.

"There. The work of a true craftsman." He looked over his shoulder at Lira, who handed him a cloth to wipe his hands.

"You certainly took your time," she teased.

Mikhailis shrugged.

"Quality over speed, Lira. Always." He turned, expecting to see the camp half-finished, but instead, he found a single large tent already set up, standing proudly in the clearing.

His eyes widened slightly, and he let out a low whistle.

"Wow. You ladies work fast," he said, walking over. The tent was much larger than he'd expected, easily big enough to fit all of them comfortably. He raised an eyebrow, noticing how it seemed even more spacious on the inside.

"This isn't just any tent, is it?"

Cerys stood nearby, her arms crossed, a small smirk on her lips.

"We came prepared, Your Highness. It's a royal-grade tent—meant for safety and comfort."

Vyrelda nodded, her expression serious.

"Given your status, we couldn't afford anything less. This tent is a magical artifact, designed to provide both shelter and protection."

Mikhailis stepped closer, peering inside. The interior was far larger than it had any right to be, with several separate sleeping quarters and even a small area for eating. He let out an impressed hum.

"Now this is traveling in style." He turned to Lira, who had followed him inside.

"What do you think, Lira? Cozy enough for you?"

Lira smiled, her eyes twinkling.

"It's certainly more comfortable than sleeping under the stars, Your Highness. Though I wouldn't have minded that, either."

Mikhailis chuckled.

"Of course, you wouldn't." He glanced around, admiring the setup.

"This is pretty impressive, though. I have to hand it to you."

<Analyzing magical properties. The tent appears to be imbued with spatial expansion magic, increasing internal dimensions by approximately threefold. Traces of protection enchantments also detected—likely to ward off lower-level threats.>

Mikhailis nodded subtly, acknowledging Rodion's assessment.

So, it's not just big—it's also got a bit of extra security. Not bad.

Lira took his arm, leading him further into the tent.

"Let me show you around, Your Highness. There are separate sleeping quarters for each of us—though if you get lonely, you know where to find me." She winked, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

Mikhailis grinned.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Outside, Vyrelda stood guard, her eyes scanning the perimeter, while Cerys unpacked their provisions quietly, always keeping an eye on their surroundings. The camp was set, and despite the unexpected delay, things seemed to be in order.

___

As the evening settled in, Mikhailis suggested having a light dinner. The group gathered around a small fire just outside the tent, the flames flickering in the dim light. They shared some food—simple provisions, but enough to satisfy their hunger.

Mikhailis leaned back, holding a piece of bread in his hand, his eyes glancing at the others.

Now this is damn awkward...

"So, Vyrelda, Cerys, any thoughts on what lies ahead?" He spoke casually, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

Vyrelda was the first to respond, her expression thoughtful.

"The path ahead will likely be more dangerous. The closer we get to Serewyn, the more vigilant we need to be. Prince Laethor's involvement makes this mission unpredictable."

Mikhailis nodded, taking a bite of his bread.

"Yeah, Prince Laethor…" He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"He's got quite the sense of romantic intrigue, doesn't he?"

Cerys, who had been quietly eating, looked up, her lips curling into a faint smile.

"Is that what you call it, Your Highness? Romantic intrigue?"

Mikhailis shrugged.

"Well, it's either that or he's just terrible at subtlety. I mean, all those grand gestures—it's almost like he's trying too hard, don't you think?"

Vyrelda snorted, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I think he's manipulative. Everything he does has a purpose, and we can't let our guard down."

Mikhailis raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright. I'm just saying, it's kind of entertaining. Besides, if he thinks he can pull one over on us, he's got another thing coming."

Cerys just snorted.

Mikhailis grinned, leaning back further.
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"Hey, someone's got to keep things light around here. Besides, it's not all bad. We get to enjoy a nice campfire, good company…" He glanced at Lira, who was seated beside him, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"And a cozy tent to sleep in. What more could we ask for?"

Lira chuckled softly.

"You do make a good point, Your Highness."

The conversation continued, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Mikhailis's lighthearted comments invited responses from Vyrelda and Cerys, and soon enough, the atmosphere became less formal, more relaxed. They exchanged stories, joked about their journey, and for a brief moment, it almost felt like they weren't on a dangerous mission—just a group of travelers sharing a night under the stars.

But as the laughter faded, and the fire crackled softly in the background, Mikhailis's gaze grew distant, his smile fading slightly. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Rodion, did you find the source?"

<No definitive source detected yet, Mikhailis. However, faint traces of energy suggest there may be something—or someone—observing from a distance. Recommend maintaining caution.>

Mikhailis nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly.

So, we might not be alone after all. He glanced at the others, his expression unreadable for a moment before he forced a smile, standing up.

"Alright, everyone. Get some rest. We've got a long journey ahead of us." He looked at Vyrelda and Cerys, his tone turning serious.

"Stay sharp. We can't afford to let our guard down—not now."

Vyrelda nodded, her eyes meeting his.

"Understood, Your Highness."

Cerys simply inclined her head, her gaze steady.

Mikhailis turned away, his smile fading as he looked out into the darkness beyond the firelight.

I guess it's time for some sneaky plays to start.