Morning

“Why would he…! I can’t believe he would betray us!”

“Calm down. There’s no way he would betray us… There must be some misunderstanding, or some reason behind this.”

“…How can you be so sure!? Tsukimiya, why is it that you always… manage to say things like that…?”

“He’s not the kind of person who would betray us without reason. You’ve been with him all this time too. Trust him.”

“…But…”

“I would never keep someone by my side who would betray others for greed or pleasure.”

“Then… if I ended up in the same situation… would you say the same about me…?”

“…That’s exactly what I meant.”

“…”

“Let’s clear our heads and take a closer look at the situation. If he needs help, we need to be there for him.”

“…Alright. I’ll trust you, Tsukimiya.”

“I thought you would.”

“…You’re so unfair, Tsukimiya.”

◇　◇　◇　◇

I had a strangely nostalgic dream—a dream from a time when everything went smoothly just because I could speak.

Perhaps because of that dream, until the very moment I opened my eyes and my consciousness slowly returned, I believed I was still human.

The first thing I saw was Gadilas, staring blankly at me in the same position we had gone to sleep. He probably sensed I had opened my eyes and woke up himself.

‘Good morning.’

“………Good morning.”

‘!’

Startled by the reply, I widened my eyes, and Gadilas, rare for him, let the corners of his mouth tilt slightly upward and murmured, “So I was right.” Apparently, he hadn’t actually heard me.

Still, I was delighted that I seemed to be having a conversation with Gadilas, and I nuzzled my face against his cheek. Perhaps he liked the feel of my fur, for Gadilas didn’t resist and stroked my neck fondly.

“Kuu, your tail is noisy.”

‘…I can’t help that…’

My tail seemed to express my emotions on its own, swishing and stirring up dust.

Apparently, Gadilas was the unusual type who was in his best mood first thing in the morning. His expression softened just a bit, and he almost smiled.

For a while, I lazed around on the bed with Gadilas until a knock sounded at the door and Uros entered.

“Good morning, Your Majesty, Divine Beast.”

Uros approached the bed while greeting us, his face looking rather complicated. With Gadilas now sitting up, I was able to get off the bed and nuzzle Uros’s hand.

‘Good morning, Uros.’

Apparently understanding that this was my greeting, Uros responded and gave me a light pat.

“As for that woman from last night, we’re making inquiries, but she never saw the face of whoever gave her instructions, so the investigation is proving rather difficult.”

“…However, seeing as they used a woman, it’s unlikely the culprit is one of the candidates.”

“…Why do you think that?”

The kind of person plotting to kill Gadilas could very well be one of the royal candidates who looked frustrated after not being chosen in the ritual, or so I thought. Uros and I both looked puzzled at Gadilas’s assertion.

Gadilas frowned slightly at Uros’s reaction, then seemed to come to a realization and let out a quiet sigh.

“I see. Even you haven’t been told, Uros.”

“Told what?”

“…A king who contracts with the Divine Beast ceases to be human. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?”

“Yes. He becomes a being close to a god, bound to share the Divine Beast’s lifespan.”

Eh, really? I was taken aback, but they didn’t seem to notice my reaction.

“Did you know he can’t father children?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why?”

“………”

“It’s not because he becomes sterile.”

“…Is that so?”

Uros’s face clearly said, ‘I’d assumed it was because he was sterile,’ and Gadilas looked at him with a face that said he wanted to comment.

I myself was left stunned by all this unexpected information.

“The seed of a king who has become close to a god is poison to a human body. Anyone who receives it will die within a few days. This is something all candidates are taught, to prevent them from making a mistake, no matter who is chosen.”

“I see. If you know that, it’s obvious His Majesty wouldn’t take a woman as a lover. Which means nobody would use that kind of trick, as happened yesterday.”

“Exactly. In fact, a trick like that is more likely to come from someone like you, who thought I had become impotent. No need to worry about pregnancy, after all.”

“…I see. Understood. I’ll start by squeezing information out of whoever handled the ‘procreation team’ in the previous reign. There may have been some suspicious contacts.”

“…Can you please call it something else? That’s far too blunt.”

‘What’s the procreation team!?’ I thought in horrified surprise, but as expected, nobody noticed.

“Also, for a while, I’ll take responsibility for bringing your clothes and meals myself.”

“…Who’s in charge of that now?”

“It hasn’t changed since the previous reign. Most likely, whoever placed their own men there made sure it wouldn’t matter which person the Divine Beast had chosen. Frankly, right now, I can’t trust anyone.”

When Uros let out a sigh, Gadilas murmured, “I see,” and got down from the bed.

“For everything but formal attire, I can dress myself. Also, dismiss the knights posted as guards for now. They’re only in the Divine Beast’s way.”

“…That’s true. I have sent out orders to explain the Divine Beast’s situation, but… they don’t seem to believe it.”

“The whole staffing arrangement needs to be redone.”

Now I understood why Uros had been giving the soldiers such cold looks: he didn’t know whose men they were, so he was being cautious.

Because of that uncertainty, Gadilas’s life had been put in danger so easily.

“The question now is, how do we choose replacements…”

“We’ll have to investigate each one individually.”

“…That will take quite some time. I’ll start making arrangements with that in mind.”

After this brief discussion, Uros left the room to prepare breakfast. Although Gadilas had only just woken up, he let out a deep sigh, as though already weary, and started getting dressed.

With nothing in particular to do, I curled up on the bed and watched Gadilas absentmindedly.

During the earlier conversation, I’d noticed both Uros and Gadilas glancing at me, deep in thought. They were probably considering just how useful the power I’d shown yesterday—where I’d identified the servant’s innocence—really was, and whether it could be relied on.

Since they didn’t yet know whether to trust that power or how much it could accomplish, they must have thought it risky to bring it up directly, and kept silent.

I could understand their caution, but unless they raised the possibility, I couldn’t explain anything myself.

Besides, I didn’t even know the first thing about the politics of this country, let alone the world itself. In my current state, where I understood only people’s true nature, I couldn’t give accurate advice.

Was there some way I could learn?

As I pondered this, Uros returned and breakfast was served, so I set my thoughts aside for the moment.