The Duchy's affairs were nothing serious.
Given the Stuen Ratfolk's ways, the fact that they had dared show themselves to everyone meant they had no intention of making a move.
At least, not anytime soon.
Turning back to the matter at hand, Olmedo asked Annan whether he really felt nothing about the Singer Competition copying them, and whether he had a plan.
Annan said casually, "Isn't that just how competitions work? It's like running. You run, I run—how can anyone say one of us copied the other?"
"So you do have an idea." Olmedo caught on. "Let's hear it."
"And yet you won't even call me Lord Annan."
Evelyn deliberately covered her mouth. "Ooh, I'm still here."
Olmedo had been about to say it, but now she felt a little awkward...
"Children shouldn't interrupt when adults are talking." Annan glared at Evelyn, then urged Olmedo, "Go on, say it."
"Shocking: Annan urges a young woman to cry out late at night."
"Lord... Annan..." Olmedo drew out the words helplessly.
"Ah!" Evelyn covered her eyes. She couldn't bear to watch.
Annan's vanity was satisfied as never before. "The competition is the main course, but we need an appetizer and soup too. We can invite contestants eliminated in the Elimination Round but still popular to perform as guests. Then, during the Finals, we can have the judges take the stage."
"I doubt anyone could resist the temptation of seeing the judges perform."
Olmedo imagined the Scarlet Queen or the Skeleton King performing onstage—even Annan—and praised him on purpose. "Great idea, Annan. You're amazing."
"Late at night, a young woman is alone in a room with Annan and tells him he's amazing," Evelyn muttered from the side.
Before Annan could speak, Olmedo laughed. "Aren't you here too?"
"Oh, right... Then I'll change it