* * *
The carriage carrying Kaindel sped along the paved road.
After traveling for nearly a full turn of the clock’s hand, the carriage finally passed through the main gates of the royal palace.
Kaindel disembarked only when the carriage arrived at the Sun Palace, where the King resided.
“Thank you,” he briefly acknowledged the coachman before following the chamberlain’s guidance to the audience room where the King awaited him.
The audience room was warm, a testament to the maids’ efforts given the weather hovering between autumn and winter.
Kaindel’s gaze swept across the room, laden with extravagant decorations.
Instead of books or documents, the room brimmed with paintings and statues—a blatant display of the owner’s vanity.
The King, watering a vase of flowers by the window, noticed Kaindel’s entrance and greeted him with a broad smile.
“Oh, Duke Schudelgarten, you’ve arrived.”
“I greet the Sun of the Kingdom.”
“There’s no need for such formality. Please, rise.”
The King gestured dismissively at Kaindel, who was kneeling on one knee, and motioned toward an empty chair.
Only after confirming that Kaindel had taken a seat did the King settle into his own.
“Mint tea would be delightful today. Bring two cups.”
“Understood.”
The chamberlain, who had entered with Kaindel, exited the room with efficient precision.
The King watched the retreating figure for a moment before absently rubbing his belly, which was round and swollen, reminiscent of a woman nearing childbirth.
“By the way, the item you brought—the Heart of the Calamity—turned out to be genuine. Well done. You’ve slain a foe that no one else could.”
“I merely did what was required.”
“Your bravery has saved my kingdom.”
“Your words are too kind.”
Kaindel offered a gracious smile, shaking his head, though inwardly he stifled a scoff.
He had heard the same words not just today but yesterday, the day before, and even a week ago.
Always the same narrative, commending the hero Kaindel for his service to the kingdom.
The King’s intent behind this repetitive praise was obvious—it wasn’t to honor Kaindel.
No, the King simply delighted in the sight of a great hero, one who had vanquished a calamity, hanging on his every word.
It was a spectacle of power, relishing the control he wielded over even someone of Kaindel’s stature.
Thus, Kaindel had learned to endure these interactions, playing along with the King’s whims before excusing himself after the customary half-hour.
However, today was different.
Today, there was something he needed to hear from the King, making it impossible to simply walk away.
This time, Kaindel had resolved to bring a matter to its conclusion.
Glancing briefly at the maid setting a teacup before him, Kaindel broke the silence.
“Speaking of which, my companions—”
“But that aside,” the King interjected, setting his teacup down with a soft clink, steam still wafting from its surface.
“After much deliberation on how to properly reward the kingdom’s hero, I’ve come to a conclusion.”
“…”
“I see no better honor than to make you part of the royal family.”
“…”
What nonsense is this now?
Kaindel fought to suppress his stunned expression. His eyelids twitched slightly as a chill ran down his spine.
He had anticipated this moment, ever since departing the capital to subdue the Calamity.
It was plausible that if he succeeded, the greedy King might seek to bind him to the royal family.
After all, the limits of his status as Duke of Schudelgarten were clear; becoming the King’s son-in-law seemed a logical step upward.
He had resigned himself to this possibility long ago.
But facing it now, Kaindel found it suffocating.
Unconsciously, he held his breath.
He didn’t want this.
That was his honest feeling.
He knew what the King was about to propose, but he didn’t want to hear it.
Unaware of Kaindel’s pale complexion, the King continued.
“So, what do you think? Will you marry my daughter and inherit the throne of this kingdom?”
Kaindel erased his smile entirely.
The chill along his back deepened.
Should he accept this proposal?
In the past, he wouldn’t have hesitated.
It was a simple, advantageous offer—marry the princess and inherit the throne.
No question.
But now, he didn’t want it.
Even though this was a chance to sever ties with the wretched Schudelgarten name, he couldn’t bear the thought.
He’d rather struggle with debt than marry the princess.
In truth, even if it weren’t the princess, the idea repelled him.
And Kaindel knew why he had changed.
Isa.
His lover, who now proudly stood by his side.
Thinking of Isa, who was waiting for him at the estate, Kaindel spoke in the calmest tone he could muster.
“…No.”
“No?”
“I have no intention of marrying anyone at the moment.”
The King’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting Kaindel to refuse.
“That’s unfortunate. I thought it was quite a favorable offer.”
“My apologies.”
“There’s no need to apologize. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“Yes.”
Kaindel studied the King’s reaction, noting his apparent willingness to let the matter drop for now.
It was a relief, though Kaindel remained cautious.
Had the King issued an order rather than a proposal, Kaindel would have had no choice but to comply as a noble of the kingdom.
For now, he counted the King’s pretense of respecting his will as a small mercy.
Before that pretense wore thin, Kaindel knew he needed a plan—a way to sustain his position as Duke of Schudelgarten without marriage.
Just as Kaindel resolved himself, the King shifted the topic.
“By the way, you mentioned something about your companions?”
“Yes. I merely wish for my companions, who fought alongside me to defeat the Calamity, to be officially recognized as such.”
“Ah, of course. How many companions are we talking about? Three? Four?”
“Five.”
“Five? Surely, you’re not including that commoner?”
“I am.”
Sehir, Owen, Ruen, Daniel, and Isa.
Those five were all his companions.
Kaindel stated the fact as plainly as he could, waiting for the King’s response, even as the monarch’s face soured slightly.
It wasn’t hard to guess the reason for the King’s reaction: Isa’s background.
Unlike Ruen or Owen, who had renowned teachers, Isa was a commoner through and through, with no prestigious connections.
Naturally, the King would prefer to exclude him.
But Kaindel wouldn’t allow that.
Clutching his teacup, Kaindel’s gaze hardened.
He intended to ensure Isa’s efforts were acknowledged—not just for recognition, but so that if Isa ever left again, his status as Kaindel’s companion would make him easier to track.
As long as Isa was known as a hero’s ally, Kaindel could keep him close.
The King, after a long pause, slowly nodded.
“Very well, then.”
That was enough.
Kaindel inwardly celebrated and stood up without hesitation.
His business with the king for the day was concluded.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”
“So soon? Won’t you finish your tea before you go?”
“I have urgent matters to attend to. My apologies. I’ll have tea next time.”
Though when that “next time” would be, he had no idea.
Kaindel deliberately swallowed back those words.
Speaking the truth wouldn’t benefit him anyway.
Leaving the audience chamber, Kaindel started walking nonchalantly.
Only when he reached a corner where no one’s gaze could follow did he stop.
“Damn it.”
Though he had acted indifferent in the chamber, the king’s expression when he suggested marrying the princess still lingered before his eyes.
It was disturbingly vivid.
As his frustration boiled over, Kaindel ran a hand through his hair in a rough motion.
“Duke of Shudegarten.”
“…”
Someone approached him from behind.
* * *
