I snorted.
"Well, none of those servant-mount-scroll things here. Just good old-fashioned walking. One foot in front of the other. It’s how us primitive Earth folk get around short distances."
I’d met a few snobby princesses in my transmigration, but I wasn’t supposed to babysit any for this long.
"How utterly barbaric," she muttered.
Then she stopped abruptly, looking up at me with eyes that somehow grew to twice their normal size, her lower lip quivering just enough to be noticed.
I had to respect it.
It was like watching a masterclass in manipulation.
"Perhaps you could carry me? You’re certainly large enough, and your muscles look quite capable."
She gave my bicep an experimental poke with one finger.
"Yes, definitely adequate for princess transportation. You probably wouldn’t even notice my weight. I’ve been told I’m as light as a summer breeze."
I stared at her in disbelief. "You want me to carry you?"
"It would be the gentlemanly thing to do," Elsa said with a delicate shrug. "I am a princess, after all. In my realm, men dueled to the death for the honor of carrying my shopping parcels."
"I’m not from you realm," I said firmly. "And I’m not carrying you."
"You’ve got two perfectly good legs. They brought you this far, they can take you the rest of the way."
Elsa’s bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout that would’ve made a toddler say "tone it down a bit, sweety."
"Please?" she added, her voice suddenly small and sweet, with just the right quaver of vulnerability.
"My royal feet are extremely delicate. They’re insured for a thousand gold crowns each. Back home, I haven’t touched bare ground since my coronation. My subjects would weep to see their princess reduced to... walking."
She whispered the last word as if it were a shameful secret.
I tried to maintain my stern expression, but there was something about her ridiculous pout combined with those absurdly effective puppy-dog eyes that broke through my defenses at last.
I sighed heavily, slumping my shoulders in defeat.
I was pretty sure I’d just lost the first of many, many battles.
"Fine," I grumbled.
"But just this once. This is not setting a precedent."
Elsa’s face immediately brightened.
It was the most rapid recovery I’d ever witnessed, barring maybe the corgi I mentioned earlier.
"Excellent!" She clapped her hands with childlike glee, then struck a regal pose with one hand extended and her chin tilted upward.
"I prefer to be carried in the traditional bridal style, if you don’t mind. The Royal Elfhaven Etiquette Manual, Volume Twelve, clearly states that princesses shall be transported with one arm supporting the shoulders and one beneath the knees. It’s much more dignified than—"
Without waiting for her to finish her lecture, I bent down, grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
She let out an indignant squawk that escalated into a squeal loud enough to wake any neighbors I thankfully didn’t have.
"SIR GREY! This is NOT what I meant! This is HIGHLY undignified!" she protested, smacking my back ineffectually with her tiny fists.
"The Royal Elfhaven Etiquette Manual specifically prohibits princesses from being carried in any position where their posterior is higher than their tiara! This is a Class Three Etiquette Violation! Put me down this instant!"
"My house, my rules," I replied with a smirk she couldn’t see.
"Besides, I don’t have a copy of your etiquette manual. Must’ve misplaced it between ’Books I Never Owned’ and ’Things I Don’t Give a Shit About.’"
Elsa huffed dramatically but stopped struggling.
"I suppose I should be grateful you’re carrying me at all," she conceded with reluctance.
"Though I shall have to add an addendum to the manual when I return. ’Beware the transportation customs of Earth barbarians. They handle royalty like sacks of grain.’"
After a moment of sulking, she seemed to make herself comfortable, propping her chin on her hand as she bounced along on my shoulder.
She even started swinging her feet slightly.
"So, why exactly does a human like you venture out alone to battle creatures from other realms?" she asked.
"It seems an unusual hobby."
I glanced back at her, considering how much to share.
"It’s a long story."
"We have a torturously long walk ahead of us," Elsa countered.
"And I require distraction from this dreadful exercise in dignity loss."
I sighed.
"Fair enough. It’s actually a very short walk, so here’s the short version. I won something called a lawsuit a few months back."
"Lawsuit?"
"It’s a game of chance. I got lucky and won a lot of money. Like, a lot of money, after legal fees." I hissed. "That greedy motherfucker."
Elsa’s eyes lit up.
"Ah, touched by the hand of fortune! In my realm, we have the Celestial Alignment ceremony where the stars bestow wealth upon the chosen few. Some spend their entire lives hoping to be selected by the heavens."
She patted my shoulder sympathetically.
"Your system seems even more arbitrary."
"Yeah, well, my celestial blessing brought every parasite and leech out of the woodwork," I continued.
"Family I hadn’t heard from in years suddenly needed ’loans’. Friends I didn’t even know I had appeared with bullshit investment opportunities. My own brother tried to sue me for half of it, claiming we’d had some verbal agreement."
"How dreadful," Elsa said, sounding genuinely sympathetic.
"The burdens of sudden wealth are not unlike those of royalty. Everyone wants a piece of you."
"So I disappeared," I explained, adjusting her weight on my shoulder as I continued walking.
"Changed my number, closed my accounts, moved everything to new ones, and bought this place between Wapa Lake and Millfield. No neighbors, no drama, just peace and quiet. It’s the one place no one would look for me."
"Until the portals began appearing," Elsa observed.
I nodded, ducking under a low-hanging tree branch.
"First one opened about three months ago. I was outside at night, enjoying the stars, when this purple tear just appeared out of nowhere. Then this skeleton in a suit of armor steps through and tries to kill me."
"A Reanimated Grunt," Elsa guessed.
Her voice was slightly bouncy from the rhythm of my stride.
She squirmed a bit, trying to find a more comfortable position on my shoulder, but surprisingly didn’t complain further about her undignified transport.
"Low-level fighters, usually. The Demon King must be sending monsters one at a time, hoping they’ll take territory, rendezvous with later arrivals, and lie in wait for his appearance."
"Whatever it was, I managed to kill it with its own sword after finding out my rifle didn’t freaking work on it. After it died, the skeleton turned to dust, but the armor and sword remained. That’s how I got this gear," I explained, and I tapped a pouch on my hip.
"I got a hunting knife from a zombie archer the next night, but I broke his bow. And after that fight, this... interface appeared, with stats, levels, and skills, at first I thought I was having a psychotic break. Too much isolation, maybe?"
She shook her head, whipping her luxurious golden mane.
"Not isolation. Not psychotic what-have-yous. It’s the System," Elsa said, suddenly sounding much more alert.
Her head popped up from behind my back so fast I’m surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash.
"It manifested for you?"
She smacked my shoulder excitedly.
"Put me down! Put me down this instant! This changes everything!"