My Wight Wife has an Otaku Rival! 2

You strolled through the town arm in arm with your wife. You politely greet the human men and undead women who are going about their day. You’ve gotten to know nearly everybody in town, and it’s your favourite part of the job. There’s always something happening and new things to see. The undead realms had seen a large number immigrants, both human and undead lately, and cities and town like yours were expanding quickly.

The checklist for today was simple, check on the construction of a new district in town, and some of your more routine chores like checking on the public offices around the place. Town planning was you and your wife’s responsibility. Some of it was delegated to skilled architects and liches, but ultimately the decision came down to your wife’s discretion. She enjoyed doing so, her hobby for building things extending into her work life too.

You’ve got it down to a bit of a science. There’s a short consultation with the townspeople about where would be suitable, and then the land is made suitable for construction. Roads are dug, lamps are placed, and plumbing (and in some cases wiring) is laid. Then people who’d like to move into town can apply for a plot! This allows people to build their home to suit their needs. Sometimes an area will be earmarked for a public project instead, like a government office or a leisure location. Each district would contain anywhere from 15 to 100 buildings.

As a result of this attention to detail, you aren’t ashamed to brag about just how nice the town is. The roads are wide enough for all kinds of traffic to come through, everywhere is well lit and welcoming even in the eternal night that the realm endures, buildings are personable and well-constructed, and you’re never too far away from all of your daily necessities. It’s a point of great pride for Cecille and the people of the town. It’s modern, something that most Wights would shy away from. If you want an internet connection, you can ask for one and they’ll give you it. Unlike many other undead wards, yours has an actual service industry popping up due to the infrastructure. Want to call somebody across the continent? The phone lines were laid decades ago.

The buildings thin out as you approach the edge of town. Across a small bridge over the river is the next construction site, this is a smaller district due to the size of the island it is on. Liches use their magic to ease construction, while human men lay out blueprints and do some of their own heavy lifting. Originally zombies used to do this kind of work, but one too many limbs got lost in the concrete so… you decided against it.

The foreman greets your wife with a quick bow and a handshake. “Lady Cecille.”

“Monsieur, how goes the construction?” she asks, watching as a lich lifts some bricks into place on the side of the road.

The foreman looks over at the site, “It’s going well, but we’re a bit behind schedule. Getting rid of the groundwater took longer than we expected, I’d say an extra two days or so.”

“A day or two is nothing for me, Monsieur, merci.” She gives a short curtsey to the gentleman, who thanks her and returns to his work. The two of you stand and watch for a few minutes as your subjects hurry back and forth to ready new homes for a wave of new neighbours. It’s entrancing watching the town expand little by little like this.

“Ohohohoho!” A trance you are snapped out of by the laughter of an audacious woman. You turn around. Behind you is an equally beautiful and well-dressed women, with green eyes and spectral claws, wearing a long red dress that nearly touches the ground. It’s Amanda, from Amanda’s Ward. To her left and right are two members of her court, a lich and a ghoul. Your wife is taken aback by the presence of a fellow wight. It’s fairly unusual for them to show up unannounced like this. You’re not sure what she was laughing at.

“Madame Amanda,” your wife greets her with another curtsey. Amanda returns the favour.

“Lady Amanda,” you bow, hand clasped to your chest.

With the pleasantries over, Amanda speaks. Unlike your wife, who has the accent of a French noble, Amanda has a much more common English accent. Amanda is considerably younger than Cecille, in some ways she is less traditional than your already less than traditional wife. “Hello Lady Cecille! I understand that my arrival might have taken you by surprise.”

“Certainly Madame, I was not expecting a visit from you,” Cecille responds, approaching the younger Wight to speak properly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Amanda grins, revealing a set of sharp canines. “Oh, well recently I was at a ball organized by Sir Normandy, and the conversation turned to the subject of city planning! I’m not afraid to say, that I’m rather an amateur at such a thing. Upon my admittance, Sir Normandy insisted that I come and visit your lovely town. The nicest town in the realm, he said.”

“Ah, Mr Normandy sent you,” you stroke your chin in thought. Normandy was a rather good friend of yours, a boisterous man who ran a ward with his wife to the east. Well, most Lord Husbands knew each other considering how few of them there are, and the wives certainly enjoy organizing elaborate parties where they try to out-Wight each other. It gives plenty of time for the other halves to talk.

“And I must say, I am rather impressed. Dare I say that Mr Normandy understated the quality of your ward.”

“Merci, merci,” you wife waves off the praise like water off a duck’s back. She’s a bit of a perfectionist, anything other than stunned silence won’t do it for her.

“I was hoping that you’d share some of your secrets with me, would you be so kind, Lady Cecille?”

There’s a moment of silence as Cecille considers Amanda’s plea. “Oui, I shall provide you with my insight. Would you like to come with?” So, the five of you set off for the rest of your round. The first stop is the town hall. If anything interesting has happened in town while you were at the mansion, this is the place to find out.

“As you can see, this is the original part of our town,” Cecille says, spreading her arms wide as if to encompass it. “You can see the differences, non? These narrow streets, broken brickwork. We did not plan properly for the future.”

You like to call this part of town charming, but your wife only sees the little flaws with it. You weren’t even around when this place was built, it was a few decades before you met Cecille. As she says, the streets are narrower, and the brickwork has been cracked where lamps and other objects have been placed in hindsight. “Now we always make sure to put our lamps and roads in right away! If a carriage wishes to come through, it can so with ease.”

Amanda had always given you the impression of being a bit of an airhead. But she was hanging onto every word that your wife said and paying close attention to the examples she pointed out. Maybe you were wrong to judge her so harshly. “I see, so even you made some mistakes Lady Cecille.”

“Of course, mistakes are the key to improvement, non?”

You swear that a tumbleweed rolls through as the conversation stops. Cecille… just quoted Redanner. That was the catchphrase of one of the main characters from the second and third season. Normally she was very careful to avoid even the slightest mention of it. For a casual observer such a pause would go unnoticed, but you’ve spent nearly a hundred years with her, she’s completely mortified.

“Oh, an interesting choice of words Miss Cecille.”

What is happening.

“I wonder where you could have heard such a turn of phrase?” A bead of sweat rolls down Cecille’s neck. It’s small, but you see it.
“What… whatever could you mean, Madame Amanda?”

Amanda grins maliciously, “I’m sorry Lady Cecille. I spoke out of turn.” There’s a moment where it seems like Cecille has evaded scrutiny, but Amanda continues, “Did you hear about that… model contest? A curious little event, some of my subjects were very excited about it.”

“Non? Model contest?”

“It is a touch embarrassing, but before I knew it, they’d convinced me to join in so I can bring more publicity to our market. A clever plan.”

“Interesting,” Cecille’s eyebrow twitched. She looked like she was about to explode.

“They handed me a quaint box with a… what did they called it? UBR-346-X?” The main mecha from the third season… but…

She can’t help herself. “348.”

“Yes, Cecille?”

“348. Madame Amanda, the number is 348, is it not?”

“Hoh, you seem to be rather knowledgeable.” Amanda’s smug grin is reality defying at this point.

Cecille isn’t standing for this rampant plebery, “Perhaps you are the kind of person who dives into something blindly? Perhaps that is why you come to me for advice about town planning, non?”

“Strong words, you are as entertaining as a funeral Lady Cecille!”

“Are you perhaps… a secondary, Madame Amanda?”

Silence. You freeze in place, your blood turning to ice. Amanda’s smirk is gone, she looks like somebody has slapped her. “A-A secondary! Well I never! To hear such uncouth words from your mouth, Lady Cecille!”

“Non, Madame Amanda, you betray yourself, you remember the name of Kai’s suit, yet you pretend your ignorance is but a matter of fact! Why would you only forget the series number when every other detail is correct?”

You, the ghoul, and the lich are locked out of this argument. Even you, with your deep second-hand knowledge of the series, can only begin to comprehend the passion emitting from the two normally calm and collected Wights.

“Why would I wish to remember the name of his suit, Lady Cecille, you know as well as I do that he is but a pale imitation of Genjuro! The superior pilot and protagonist!”

Cecille scoffs, SCOFFS at Amanda. “Were you born yesterday Madame? You have the taste of a child! A woman blinded by the simplicity of the hot-blooded protagonist!” Cecille spits onto the ground, you’ve never seen her do this.

“You only like Redanner 3 because it is darker than the others, the sign of true maturity is to connect with your childish desires once in a blue moon!” The two Wights are literally seconds away from coming to blows, but your intervention will only make things worse.

“You brag about your model building contest, but I will show you who the real fan is, oui?” Cecille declares.

Amanda, with a look of frustration on her face, agrees, “I shall see you there Lady Cecille, I can only hope that your painting and panel lining is as poor as your taste in anime! For then it will be an easy victory!” The two Wights turn their backs on each other and huff. You were used to Wights arguing about dresses, house decoration and buffet spreads… but not anime. The two Wights stomp away, their companions forgotten.

You turn to the ghoul, “Does this happen a lot?”

She groans, “Yes Lord Aumont, yes it does.”