Chapter 5

Tyler Beaton, knight commander of the Kingdom of Restowick, still could not believe what had happened that day.

King James IV, Second Prince Alton, and Alton’s mother, Consort Trisha, had all been beheaded, while First Prince William had been turned into the pawn of a single young girl through some mysterious spell.

And every bit of it had been carried out by the Saintess herself—the very Saintess summoned by order of the king.

He had never imagined events could unfold like this.

‘You do not appear to possess that resolve!’

The words of the summoned Saintess, Princess Kana, returned to Beaton’s mind.

(Perhaps she was right.)

Remembering how His Majesty and the others had behaved only a short while ago, he gave a bitter smile. It was hard to deny that they had lacked the resolve expected of people who bore responsibility for a nation.

Even so, the king had been Beaton’s friend, someone he had studied alongside since childhood, and the sovereign to whom he had sworn lifelong service. None of that changed.

And yet Beaton had failed to protect him.

The sense of loss and guilt threatened to crush his heart.

‘Priorities, Ty. Don’t get them wrong. The first priority is…’

He remembered the words muttered by the man who, only moments earlier, had clung trembling to Beaton’s back.

Those words, repeated again and again, were themselves the source of Beaton’s grief.

(He was timid, but strangely stubborn about certain things…)

Beaton shook his head as though to cast aside the emotions rising within him, then forced his attention back to what had to be done.

After consulting with Chancellor Aldridge, he had already imposed a gag order on everyone who had been present, forbidding them from speaking about anything they had seen or heard that day. At that very moment, the mages were urgently preparing magical oath documents containing confidentiality contracts.

Once those were finished, every person would have to sign.

All forty-six of them—ministers, mages, knights, and guards alike.

The bodies of the deceased king and the others had meanwhile been laid in one corner of the room and covered with the knights’ cloaks. The cord-like restraints that had bound them had vanished at some point without anyone noticing.

As for what should be done with the bodies… that could not be decided without hearing the opinions of Queen Shaila and Prince William. For now, they had no choice but to wait for the queen and chancellor to return.

The queen had left the room earlier with Princess Kana, while the chancellor had followed afterward, and neither had returned yet.

Beaton was curious about what they were doing, but for the moment his duty was to keep everyone inside the room.

After all, more than one or two people had already tried to leave under various excuses.

(What the hell are you people thinking at a time like this? At least try to cooperate, damn it!)

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because a mage approached with a frightened expression while carrying a stack of documents. Apparently, the oath papers were finally ready.

The documents only took effect once, in addition to the signer, two other people channeled magical power through them. It was inconvenient, but Beaton needed to personally make sure each one had activated properly.

So after lining up those who were grumbling under their breath, he worked together with the mages to have each person sign, confirming them one by one.

At last, after making the mages themselves sign as well, Beaton thought the process might finally be finished when the chancellor and queen returned.

Beaton handed the chancellor a list of those who had complained the most or attempted to leave the chamber while he had been gone, explaining that he had marked the worst offenders.

In return, Aldridge said he had a report concerning intruders who had entered the private rooms of Consort Trisha and Prince Alton, and that he would submit it formally at a later date.

With one problem after another continuing to surface, the three of them headed together to Prince William’s room to discuss what should happen next.

The prince was not lying down in bed, but sitting upright and apparently deep in thought. Considering how badly he had suffered earlier, he did not seem to be in poor physical condition.

Even so, there was no reason not to be cautious, so they held the discussion at his bedside.

As a result, it was decided that the three bodies would be placed in the royal mausoleum beneath the palace and kept frozen by the same mages who had signed the confidentiality oaths.

At an appropriate time, Consort Trisha and the Second Prince would be publicly announced to have died of illness, while the king would be said to have fallen gravely ill.

That meant William’s formal investiture as crown prince would have to be carried out quickly, but the details, including the date, would be discussed later.

It was also agreed that, for the time being, the chancellor and queen would handle official duties in the king’s place.

Since Prince William was now highly likely to be incapable of acting against Princess Kana’s orders, it was thought best that he step away from governance temporarily.

This had primarily been Aldridge’s recommendation, but William himself agreed, so there seemed to be no issue.

William promised that he would personally explain the situation to the Saintess the following day, and with that, the discussion ended.

At the bottom of the stairs stood a door labeled Administration Room.

Beaton opened it, and the thin caretaker silently handed him a document. Beaton quickly signed it, placed it in the designated box, then opened the door on the opposite side of the room.

Beyond a damp-smelling stone archway lay a broad open chamber.

At its center stood a solemn altar engraved with the names of the first king and queen, making it clear that this was the mausoleum reserved for the royal family.

Though called a mausoleum, ordinarily it housed only locks of hair from successive kings and queens.

Now, however, it has become a temporary mortuary containing three coffins.

Despite being underground, the chamber was bright from the many burning candles, though it was astonishingly cold.

That was likely because the mages had cast ice magic over the coffins when the three bodies were placed there earlier.

Beaton approached the two soldiers standing watch beside the three coffins.

“Sorry, but could you step away for a little while?”

The soldiers hesitated despite the request coming from the knight commander, but Beaton asked again, saying it would only be for a short time, and eventually convinced them.

“Understood. But please, under no circumstances touch the coffins.”

“Got it.”

The soldiers nodded and walked toward the administration room.

There was a small stove in one corner of that room, so perhaps they intended to warm themselves with a hot drink, Beaton thought.

He approached the coffins he had been warned not to touch.

The severed heads had now been placed where they belonged, with scarf-like cloths wrapped around their necks to hide the cuts.

Seen like this, all three looked as though they were merely sleeping.

Beaton moved closer to one of them and looked down at his friend’s face.

“Jay… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. And as for those priorities… I don’t know if I can even say I upheld them properly. But still, that was too much, wasn’t it? You were a king, for gods’ sake. You could’ve at least acted with a little more dignity…”

The words stopped there.

For a moment, he thought he could hear his friend laughing.

‘That’s why I told you I’d struggle, Ty.’

“Priorities.”

It had been more than ten years ago, during a period of growing tension with the neighboring Gatehelm Empire, when his friend—newly crowned king at the time—had said those words.

They had been speaking privately then, and neither had bothered with formal speech.

“Listen, Ty. There’s an order to who gets protected. William comes first. Alton is second. The consorts are third. And I’m last.”

“You’re fine with being last, Jay?”

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll fight like hell to stay alive. I’ll be ugly about it, shameless about it, use the people around me as shields, cry that I don’t want to die, and struggle until the very end.”

“Hell, is that really acceptable behavior for a king?”

“It is. Because there isn’t much else I can do. I’m not a great fighter like you, I don’t have Benny’s courage, I don’t have Ren’s brilliant mind, and I don’t have Shala’s talent for diplomacy either. The only thing I can do is cling to life, no matter how pathetic I look doing it. Besides, as long as I’m alive, something can always be done.”

That gentle, timid friend who had laughed as he said it now lay frozen in a coffin.

They would never speak again.

Beaton simply stood beside the coffin.

His eyes burned. The back of his nose ached. It felt as though some enormous lump were lodged in his throat.

Tears came, and then more than tears, one thing after another spilling out beyond his control.

There was only one thing he could still do.

Make a vow.

“Things ended like this, but I’ll protect Prince William no matter what happens. If that means protecting that girl too, don’t hold it against me. There’s no other way to protect the kingdom. I’ll earn her trust no matter what it takes, and I’ll stay at her side. That’s how I’ll protect your son… I’ll protect him to the very end… Jay…”

Supported by Beaton, William sat in a chair for a while before two knights helped him return to his own room.

His attendants immediately prepared him for bed and brought him to it, but his mind was in such chaos that he could not bring himself to lie down.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he replayed what had happened earlier.

When he had awakened that morning, he had been filled with both hope and anxiety regarding the Saintess Summoning.

Now there was nothing left in him but anxiety and regret.

(I’m alive, and yet…)

At the same time, countless questions of “why” swirled through William’s mind.

Why was he alive?

Why had Alton not stayed in his room?

Why had his father made such a disastrous mistake?

Why had Lady Trisha died instead of his mother?

Why? Why? Why?

Of course, William still believed his father had been correct to decide upon the Saintess Summoning.

But if he had known it would lead to sacrifices like these, he could not help regretting that he had ever supported it.

More than anything else, however, William found himself wondering one thing.

Why had they all assumed that the Saintess they summoned would willingly help them without objection?

(We simply assumed it. Because she was a Saintess.)

Somewhere in their minds, they had decided without question that:

‘A kindhearted maiden worthy of being called a Saintess would be frightened by arriving in another world, but grateful to receive our protection, and would willingly fulfill our request.’

They had never even doubted it.

But from the summoned person’s perspective, it was no different from being abducted, told she could never go home, and then threatened with, “We’ll protect you, so do what we say.”

William had not even realized that until Princess Kana herself pointed it out.

(A collection of fools with fortunate minds… Yes. She was right.)

Perhaps his mother and the chancellor, who had opposed the summoning until the very end, had understood all along.

They had argued that it was wrong to place the burden of their own problems upon the shoulders of a single girl from another world.

Yet his father’s judgment—that the kingdom could not endure much longer—had not been wrong either.

That was why the knight order, subjugation forces, and mages had all fought desperately until that very day, ensuring the summoning ritual could take place safely.

William himself had taken part in many of those campaigns, so he knew it well.

Everyone had believed that if they could only summon the Saintess successfully, everything would work out.

And yet the result had been what happened today.

Then suddenly, something occurred to William.

The historical records said that the Saintess restored peace through her sacred power and helped build a new kingdom.

But they said nothing about what happened to the king who summoned her, or to the kingdom that had existed before.

(Could something similar have happened then as well? What if they simply assumed that a sacred maiden capable of purification would never harm them—or that she lacked the power to do so—and were struck down when the Saintess retaliated?)

He could not dismiss the possibility.

No—now that he thought about it, the very fact that the historical records said nothing about it almost seemed to speak the truth more eloquently than words could have.

(If that is so, then what happened today was something bound to happen sooner or later…)

Then William realized something else.

There was no possible way that Aldridge had failed to notice something William himself had only now understood.

(Could he have anticipated something like this? Was that why he opposed the summoning so strongly? But if that were the case, why didn’t he simply say so? If he had, I would never have supported it either…)

His thoughts circled endlessly through the same questions, and no answers seemed forthcoming.

He sighed.

Then there came a knock at the door, and an attendant announced that his mother and the others had arrived.

His mother’s voice followed, telling him that he could remain in bed.

The three people who entered the bedroom all looked utterly exhausted.

William thought that was only natural.

The chancellor told him they needed to decide a great many things regarding what came next, so they simply used the area beside William’s bed as their meeting place.

The discussion was led mainly by Aldridge, and while exact dates were left for later, they made decisions on a variety of matters.

One of those concerned William’s investiture as crown prince.

Only then did he finally confront the reality that he was going to become king.

Until yesterday, it had been something he believed lay far in the future.

Now it had suddenly been placed directly before him.

The sheer weight of that responsibility made him recoil merely imagining it.

In the end, because that thought had consumed so much of his attention, the meeting concluded before he managed to ask the question he most wanted answered.

And so William once again found himself adrift in a sea of thoughts that seemed unlikely to yield any conclusion.

Near dawn, when he finally began drifting in and out of sleep, William dreamed of something from his childhood.

It had happened when he accidentally overheard people speaking ill of the king.

Angered by phrases such as “the chancellor’s puppet” and “a coward completely under the queen’s thumb,” William had told his father that people who said such things ought to be dismissed.

His father had laughed and replied that there was no need to be angry, because the accusations were not entirely false.

“When it comes to military strength, Beaton keeps order within the kingdom, while Burley keeps watch beyond its borders. In politics, Aldridge handles domestic affairs, and Queen Shaila demonstrates her ability in diplomacy. And my job is to make sure all of those things continue working smoothly without interfering with one another. That is my way of being king.”

So there was no harm in letting people say whatever they pleased.

When William woke, he remembered that conversation.

As a child, he had not truly understood, but because his father had said it, he had simply let the matter go.

Now he understood.

His father, his mother, and those other three had trusted one another deeply.

It had never been a matter of who stood above or below another, nor had any one of them been sacrificed for the rest.

Each of the four had supported the king in their own way, and the king, in turn, had supported all of them.

His father’s gentle face appeared in his mind.

That smile almost seemed to be telling him:

You only need to find your own way of being king.

“I… am going to be king…”