I build nuclear bombs in the giant world

At night, the royal residence.

After finishing the meal, Historia and Mikasa took a walk in the garden.

"Really. Mikasa, has the date been set?"

"Well, Alan and I are born only one month apart. We plan to register in March next year when both of us turn sixteen."

"Congratulations." Historia took Mikasa's hand: "Mikasa and Allen have known each other since they were children. You two have a very good relationship."

"Eren only has eight years." Mikasa said softly: "No matter what, I want to spend these eight years with him, so, I...I will not back down anymore."

"I'm a little envious of you guys." Historia pursed her lips and said, "That's great."

"Does Historia also have the idea of ​​getting married?" Mikasa blinked.

"The princess's marriage is big news." Historia sighed: "In my position, I can't get married if I want to."

"You can ask Brother Ian for help." Mikasa said, "If he speaks, others will not dare to care."

"It would be great if he was willing to talk." Histria said quietly.

"No problem." Silly Mikasa still didn't understand Historia's mood: "He must support your free love. If you have someone you like, he will definitely be willing to help you."

"Although Mikasa will be a bride soon, she is surprisingly very innocent." Historia rubbed Mikasa's face.

"What do you mean? Aren't we discussing your topic?" Mikasa's little mouth was puckered by Historia.

"Let's not mention this. Speaking of which, Mikasa, you are getting married soon and you still don't know how to dress yourself. It's so ungirly. Go to my room and I will help you dress up."

Historia pulled Mikasa to her boudoir and asked her to sit in front of the dressing mirror.

The bright light illuminated Mikasa's face, and Mikasa couldn't sit still. She had never put much effort into her image as she grew up, and she usually wore whatever she wanted.

Besides, in military training, they all wear uniform uniforms.

Historia opened the closet door, and there were a dazzling array of dresses hanging inside, including complicated dresses and simple dresses.

Being a princess is not easy, you must pay attention to details such as hairstyle, clothing, etiquette, expressions, etc.

On another battlefield, she was also a battle-hardened warrior.

After looking at it for a while, she picked out a few small dresses that suited Mikasa's style.

It's just that the size of these clothes is customized according to her height. She is a petite girl, and the size of the clothes does not match Mikasa who has been trained in the army. It is too small.

So she started to dismantle the matching of various clothes, and finally chose a set of wool short-sleeved and knee-length milk white midi skirt for Mikasa. It was originally a long skirt, but when worn on Mikasa, it turned into a short skirt.

It's a very simple girly outfit with short sleeves and a midi skirt. Mikasa is a beauty to begin with, but clothes that are too gorgeous will overshadow her.

"Okay, what do you think?" Historia put her hand on Mikasa's shoulder.

Mikasa blushed slightly and looked at herself in the mirror.

Now she looks like a girl.

Historia is indeed a master of image management. She dresses up very beautifully in a pure girlish style. Her smooth single ponytail is combed behind her head, making her fall in love at first sight.

Mikasa touched the little hat embroidered with jewelry on her head, stood up, pulled up her skirt, looked left and right, and she didn't feel like herself anymore.

"Mikasa is a beauty to begin with."

Afterwards, Historia brought Mikasa, who had finished dressing up, to Eren.

Allen was stunned.

"How's it going, Ellen?" Mikasa pinched the hem of her skirt and asked delicately: "It's definitely not suitable for me. I'd better change back to my usual clothes."

Allen stood there stupidly, not knowing what to say.

Historia kicked Eren's calf before Eren reacted.

"It's very beautiful. Mikasa!"

"Really?" Mikasa raised her head and stared into Allen's eyes, her face like the sunset.

Allen didn't dare to look at it, his throat squirmed, and he scratched his head violently.

"Let me ask you, do you two really look like you are getting married?" Historia couldn't stand it anymore and shouted loudly: "Do you know how a child is born?"

"What are you talking about!" Allen stammered: "Of course I know about that kind of thing! That's it. That's it."

"Stop, stop, stop!" Histria raised her palms: "Don't talk to me about this kind of thing. Really, if you two want to study how to have children, just do it yourself. I'm leaving."

"Histria, your clothes." Mikasa held out her hand.

"This is for you. You can finally rest for a few days. When you go out to play, don't wear those old-fashioned pants and jackets." Historia waved her hand and left without looking back.

Mikasa struggled for a moment and said, "I'd better return the clothes. This set must be very expensive."

"Wait, Mikasa." Allen grabbed Mikasa's wrist and looked seriously: "Let's go for a walk first. I have something to tell you."

"What?" Mikasa tilted her head cutely.

Allen held his chest and took a deep breath.

Damn, it's so lethal.

He actually had nothing to say at all, he just wanted to see Mikasa in a skirt again.

Allen's brain with a brain power of three was working rapidly, and finally he opened and closed his mouth, spitting out a few words that shocked even him:

"About having a baby."

After Mikasa reacted, she lowered her head for a moment.

She stopped talking, just put her little head on Allen's chest, and responded in a voice that only Allen could hear: "Yeah."

Allen trembled all over and felt a heat in his nose. He quickly covered his nostrils and used the power of the giant to evaporate the nosebleeds.

He held the girl in his arms, feeling her body temperature, and felt in his heart that it was worth dying here today.

Historia stood in front of the door and hesitated, feeling that headache coming again.

I don’t know what’s going on, but it happens once or twice every once in a while.

After waiting for her headache to subside, she stood on tiptoes and knocked on the door.

"Ian, are you still busy?"

There were footsteps inside the door, and with a creak, the door was opened.

Histria had to look up at the boy. She looked at the boy's calloused palms and took out the snack box in her hand: "Well, these are the cookies I made myself. It's so late. Are you hungry?" Not hungry? Do you want to eat some?"

"Thank you." The boy smiled and took the box in her hand: "Histria, go to bed first. I still have some work to deal with."

"I can't sleep." Historia shook her head: "Is there anything I can do? Let me help you."