Today is December 31st—the day I am scheduled to meet people who might become my teammates. I couldn't sit still at home, so I arrived at the castle gates at 9:30 a.m.
Outside the main gate, I noticed someone standing inside who clearly wasn't a guard. It looked like he was waiting for someone. I waited for the gate to open, went in, and—sure enough—the King again.
"Good morning, Your Majesty."
"Oh, Karen. You're here already? It's not even ten yet."
When the King saw me, he lowered the arms he'd been holding crossed over his chest.
"I couldn't sit still at home. I kept checking the time, wondering if it was already time to go. So I figured I might as well come to the castle and wait."
Waiting at home only made me anxious. Waiting at the destination was much easier. I hated being late—I believed in keeping my word.
"You really are punctual. Not like a certain large organization."
The only people a king would personally greet should be those of equal standing—royalty from other nations, or ambassadors from countries even more powerful than this one.
Yet the King was waiting alone, so it clearly wasn't anyone like that. Those guests would require a grand welcome.
A "large organization," though? Even without a big entourage, anything that warranted the king's personal reception had to be significant. I probably needed to know more.
"What kind of organization would require the busy king himself to greet them?"
The king answered in a tired tone.
"People from the temple. They said they'd arrive at nine, and the late king set a rule that the king must personally welcome them."
The temple. Instantly, I lost all interest. On top of that, they were late. My impression of them couldn't get any worse. Just how powerful was the temple, anyway, that even the previous king had to show them such deference?
Since the temple was coming to the castle today, it was probably because I had refused the Saintess—not to come after me directly, but still. I tested the waters with the king.
"The temple's visit has nothing to do with me, right?"
"Of course it does. They came because of you. They claim the Brave needs a Saintess to defeat the Demon King."
So it really was about my refusal.
I honestly didn't understand why defeating the Demon King required a Saintess. If that were the case, why not just send the Saintess to defeat him herself?
Or did having both a Hero and a Saintess somehow amplify their power? No matter how I thought about it, it made no sense. The excuse was flimsy at best.
"That's ridiculous."
"They also said you must submit yourself to the temple. Since you never reported to them, they believe you've desecrated the mission bestowed upon you by the Goddess of Fate."
It was the funniest joke I'd ever heard—and yet I couldn't laugh. If I weren't the Hero, I'd be laughing my head off. But as the person involved, I couldn't brush it off.
I never volunteered to be made a Hero in the first place. Don't I have the right to choose? Telling me to submit to the temple—at that point, they might as well claim I'm not a real Brave.
"I see… By the way, where's the room for the meeting? Being late wouldn't be good."
I was already thinking about how to deal with the temple—collapse it? Bomb it?—but first, I should go wait in the room. I asked the king for directions.
"Anthony is at the knights' training grounds. Have him take you there."
"Understood."
"However, Karen, the relationship between the temple and the royal family is close. It's difficult for me to outright refuse their demands."
The king's sudden remark meant the temple had made a request of him.
"Did they ask to join the meeting?"
Their target was clearly me. They probably wanted to insert themselves into the discussion and seize control, steering it in their favor.
"Exactly. The Archbishop originally insisted on joining your meeting, but I did my best to refuse. As I said, it's hard for me to reject the temple outright, so in the end we compromised—only the Saintess will join."
How did the temple even know about today's meeting? Had they planted spies? As expected, they brought nothing but trouble.
But if it were spies, the king would surely suspect the temple after receiving such a request. So did the King tell them himself? To be safe, I asked directly rather than letting suspicion turn into misunderstanding.
"Your Majesty, how did the temple learn about today's meeting?"
Instead of answering right away, the King apologized.
"My apologies. I let it slip when I refused the Saintess earlier."
So it was a slip of the tongue—completely unexpected. That cleared things up. I'd almost started to suspect the king.
Even so, despite saying it was hard to refuse, he still managed to limit it to just the Saintess. Well done. A Saintess should be much easier to deal with—still young, not yet locked into rigid adult thinking.
I felt genuine gratitude toward the king. I'd repay him for this someday.
"Even if it slipped out, thank you for pushing back for me. I'll be going now."
"Go ahead."
As I headed toward the knights' training grounds, I thought about how the temple kept ignoring my responses and trying to control me. If they really pushed me too far, I wouldn't hold back.
(Looks like I'll need to rewrite the letter I sent to Lina.)