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... said… Isn’t she so lovely?”


“Oho! I don’t know what you’re talking about. That cuteness is only a part of it. You didn’t see Her Majesty sleeping soundly on the throne? Tsk tsk.”


At that remark, the people who gathered around were furious and clenching their fists.


“Ugh. I want to see it too!”


“So jealous, damn it…”


“Dirty congressmen…”


Nonetheless, it was a great honor for those who have that title.


There was a fixed number ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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