The Senior Retainers 1

A week and a few days had passed since the day of the ritual, and Kuuga was made to attend a certain meeting.

It was a council assembled for the senior retainers, but to Kuuga’s surprise, it was his first time seeing the seven people gathered there. In other words, although they were high-ranking officials, not one of those seven had met with Gadilas in the past week or so.

Apparently, they had been trying to keep public affairs afloat, which had stagnated under the previous king. If that was the case, Kuuga thought, all the more reason for Gadilas to have sought their counsel or cooperation without delay. Gadilas seemed to sense what Kuuga was thinking from his dubious expression, and explained that his not meeting with them had been intentional.

Firstly, before even speaking with them, there were various things Gadilas needed to learn.

Secondly, he could not bring himself to trust them. They were busy men, so it was difficult to coordinate schedules for a meeting, but letting this time slip by was a tactic meant to irritate them. Gadilas had even arranged so that they would not come to the royal office.

The rumors spreading through the castle, of course, had reached them, and it was clear they were looking down on Gadilas.

On top of that, the agenda for the meeting was “When to hold the coronation ceremony”—in other words, a matter that hardly warranted a council at all.

When the meeting began, Gadilas sat Kuuga beside him and quietly endured the barrage of barbed remarks hurled his way. Perhaps because he held the title of king, they did not resort to outright insults, but their words were so sharp and full of scorn that Kuuga truly marveled at how they were able to come up with so many ways to criticize Gadilas.

Yet, Kuuga noticed that after a while, a few of them began to look puzzled. Perhaps it was because Gadilas simply received their words without reaction, or rather because he behaved as if he had expected this from the start.

Once the retainers began to wonder whether there was a deeper reason behind all this, Gadilas ended the meeting.

“How was it?”

‘…Hah, I understand why you don’t trust them, but… Gadilas, this isn’t exactly the best way…’

What Gadilas had truly wanted was, in short, to let Kuuga see those seven men. Thanks to all the things they had said to Gadilas, Kuuga could now understand not only their character and feelings toward the king, but also what they valued, and what had provoked them most.

He could only sigh at Gadilas’s willingness to test his subordinates in such a way, but it was a testament to his deep mistrust of others—Gadilas, for all his brilliant qualities, possessed this as his greatest, and perhaps sole, flaw. Kuuga resolved to help him slowly overcome it.

With the dictionary Gadilas had recently presented sitting before him, Kuuga sighed once more, then reached for it.

“We’ll start with Ruon.”

‘…Very well.’

Kuuga conveyed his impressions of the seven men to Gadilas, using combinations of words he had just observed. Gadilas checked the words, confirmed his understanding with “So, in other words…,” and Kuuga would agree or correct him, covering each retainer in turn.

When they were finished, Gadilas studied the compiled reports with a somewhat surprised look. Perhaps, to him, all of them had appeared as enemies.

As Kuuga watched the evidently conflicted Gadilas, the king noticed his gaze, awkwardly scratched his head, and then placed his hand roughly atop Kuuga’s.

“Don’t look like that… I’ve decided to trust you.”

‘Then…’

Kuuga opened the dictionary again and pointed to two words: “test” and “apology.”

Gadilas, now accustomed to such exchanges, seemed to grasp Kuuga’s intent at once. “A king shouldn’t apologize so easily…” he muttered, his expression sour, but after a moment, he nodded in agreement.

After their private meeting, Gadilas summoned four people to his office—the intended ones.

Not all seven, but four. The selected men exchanged puzzled glances as Gadilas, first of all, honored his promise to Kuuga.

“Some of you may have already realized as much, but first, let me apologize for testing you.”

“……”

Two of the four reacted as if to say, “So that’s what it was.” The other two looked confused.

“I’ll take your questions afterward. Let me explain first. …The true purpose of the previous council was to allow the Divine Beast to observe you.”

All of them seemed eager to ask questions, but aware they’d been deprived of the right to speak by the king, none interrupted.

Gadilas placed his hand gently on Kuuga’s head and looked slowly around at the four.

“The Divine Beast’s name is Kuuga. I did not give it—the Divine Beast introduced itself. You know the Divine Beast possesses great intelligence. To be exact, it differs from humans only in that it cannot speak our language; its intellect matches ours. It can read as well.”

Their eyes turned to Kuuga as if to ask, “Is this true?” When Kuuga nodded in response, a ripple of surprise passed through the room.

“And there is a power of the Divine Beast, unknown even among the royal family— The Divine Beast can discern a person’s true nature. Only those the Divine Beast has acknowledged have been called here.”

Three of them seemed to be positively itching to interrupt him, their curiosity evident—Kuuga found their barely contained anticipation rather amusing.

“…I despise this country. I cannot trust the people born and raised here. Or rather, I never even wanted to try trusting you.”

Kuuga thought that was hardly something a king should confess, but found himself pondering whether Gadilas’s despair extended to the nation itself. The breadth of his negative feelings seemed so wide as to be almost indistinct, as if it encompassed the whole world.

The four men so gathered responded to the king’s shockingly frank confession with expressions that seemed to say, “That certainly sounds like him.”

Enough already! Everyone knows these circumstances as if they’re obvious! Someone, please, just say it out loud! Kuuga screamed inwardly—but as expected, no one spoke.

“Still, I intend to fulfill my duties as king. …I have decided to trust you, those acknowledged by the Divine Beast.”

At Gadilas’s exceedingly honest declaration, one of the four could not hold himself back any longer and spoke.

“May I request permission to speak?”

“You may.”

The one regarding Gadilas with a questioning, almost glaring gaze, was Ruon Grik. A man in his late forties, all lanky limbs—a serious expression and light green hair slicked back.

Ruon was the finance minister, as well as a capable leader among the merchants. A stern face, with a furrowed brow that had seemingly become its natural state.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, and while I’m honored by your trust, is it not rather dangerous to rely so simply on the word of the Honored Divine Beast?”

It seemed he wished to say: no matter how powerful the Divine Beast might be, simply accepting its word without question was foolish—did the king have no will of his own? It was a reasonable objection.

Gadilas nodded deeply at his words.

“Indeed. Until it is proven, you will not be persuaded. Listen to the Divine Beast’s words and judge their truth for yourselves… But be prepared. I’ll take no responsibility if you don’t like what you hear.”

“…And what do you mean by that?”

It had no doubt been planned to take this turn from the beginning. Gadilas, with deliberate affectation, reached for the documents he had prepared—seemingly relishing the moment.

“First—Ruon Grik.”

“Yes.”

“Your loyalty is to the nation, not the king. You care not who sits the throne, as long as the kingdom prospers as the legends dictate. If possible, you would prefer someone easy to manipulate. Should misgovernment occur, you would not hesitate to ‘act’ of your own accord.”

“……”

Gadilas’s opening volley hit its mark; Ruon’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, but—credit to him—he quickly steeled his expression.

“You seem to have strong objections to my conduct since the day of the ceremony. I suppose it’s only natural. Ruon acts not out of personal gain. There’s always logic and purpose behind your words: if you cannot agree with something, you do not shy away from questioning it for the country’s sake. Understanding this, I trust you can take the lead. …Or so the Divine Beast says—what say you?”

Ruon regarded Kuuga with an unreadable expression. Having your innermost thoughts read and revealed was unlikely to be a pleasant experience. That it was exposed by another must have made it even worse—Kuuga felt a touch of sympathy.

“Does the Honored Divine Beast possess the power to read minds?”

“No, it cannot hear your thoughts directly. Had it been able to read this deeply, that would indeed be a threat. …Now, next…”

Having exited the topic with Ruon—who had indirectly confirmed Gadilas’s words—the king wasted no time turning to his next victim. Two of the remaining men wore slightly resigned expressions.