The smell of scorched frosting still clung to the ruins of the chapel. The air shimmered with leftover magical residue. Candles sputtered on cracked marble. Half a dragon tail still stuck out of the ceiling beams like an awkward chandelier.
And in the middle of it all sat Rei, twenty-five-years-old Earth salaryman trapped in the body of a duke's son, dressed in a shredded tuxedo that had been through more explosions than his entire previous life.
Across from him: six women who had nearly murdered each other less than ten minutes ago.
On the table between them: one lonely strawberry shortcake, slightly tilted, suspiciously glowing, and radiating the aura of impending doom.
Rei swallowed. "So. Welcome to… Cake Diplomacy."
[System Notification: Historic Idiocy Detected.]
[New Political Model Invented: Cake-Based Mediation.]
[Likelihood of Survival: 2%.]
Seraphina, angelic princess, holy hair still dusted in soot, raised her hand with solemn dignity.
