As Fern nodded thoughtfully, a brief silence fell over the living room.
"..."
Only then did Frieren dare to quietly lower her book a little and peek over it, surveying the situation.
When she saw that the storm seemed to have passed, she glanced at the ornate magical clock on the wall. The hands were already pointing to a little past eight in the morning, so she gave a light cough and tried to make a quiet suggestion in the most natural, casual, matter-of-fact tone she could manage:
"Um..."
"It's getting late."
"Shouldn't Kanne, Lawine, Übel, Laufen, Ehre, and Denken be waiting at the city gates to see us off today, like they promised?"
"We'd better eat breakfast and get going."
As she spoke, Frieren paused. Her gaze shifted between Fern and the still-pajama-clad Elaina, then finally settled on the door to a certain troublesome little girl's room. She asked hesitantly, in a tone that sounded like she was trying to negotiate:
"Also..."
"Which of you is going to wake Annie up?"
In any case, Frieren clearly wasn't going to do it herself. It would have to be either Fern or Elaina.
"!!"
The moment Fern heard that, an expression of utter horror appeared on her face. She shook her head like a rattling drum:
"It's only a little past eight!"
"Wake Lady Annie up at this hour?"
As she spoke, she seemed to picture some terrifying scene, and her voice began to tremble:
"W-We'd get beaten up, wouldn't we?"
"We'd definitely get beaten up!"
"If she woke up cranky, she might toss all three of us into that awful arena and have Tibbers go berserk, then beat us into the ground several times over!?"
Just thinking about Tibbers's enormous body and claws burning with Shadowflame made Fern feel as