A cloudless blue sky — perfect weather for a celebration. The Royal Castle’s great hall hummed with solemn atmosphere as sunlight poured in.
I stood straight, maintaining a posture not to shame me as a noble.
“Now the award ceremony for Ouga Veret will begin! Ouga Veret, approach His Majesty King Ambald!”
I’d waited near the entrance; I began walking up the red carpet over the marble floor.
Each step intensified the gazes from left and right.
The kind appraisals of the honored nobles lining both sides of the red carpet.
There must be those seeing me clearly for the first time.
The shut-in eldest son of one of the four ducal houses, suddenly receiving a personal award from the King.
No precedent in history books. Likely no precedent in the future either — just my case.
With Andrews executed — at least, on the surface — Father’s influence is growing further; the arrival of a potential Gordon Veret connection point.
Noble society: eat or be eaten.
The nobles are gauging whether Ouga Veret is easy to handle.
Those close to Father — who acts as the corrupt lord — probably won’t approach me.
If the King awards me, they assume I’m someone who does good deeds.
Corrupt nobles harboring sensitive secrets wouldn’t risk it.
”…………”
In the front row, Father met my eyes and momentarily softened his expression.
Beside Karen’s father, the current heads of the four ducal houses lined up impressively.
Yes — Father and the others have a different aura. They live a stage — no, two stages — above us, instinct understands.
I savored the attention to the end, then reached the foot of the King’s throne, knelt on one knee, lowered my head.
…… Considering what’s about to happen, I want to rush home to recover in Mashiro and the others’ healing space.
I wore a heavy, ornate suit that wouldn’t shame the Veret name.
My right arm still aches; it’s in a holder so it can’t move……
I can’t whine to the King who visited the manor in person.
Already at this point, my freedom is curtailed; my do-whatever-I-want life feels distant.
“Raise your face, Ouga Veret.”
“Yes!”
“With wounds from fierce battle still unhealed, you came. Forgive a parent’s heart that wanted to reward a loyal subject quickly.”
“Not at all. Receiving such words from His Majesty is already ample reward.”
“You also bear humility. I’ve reconfirmed today that you are exactly the man worthy of the title we’re about to grant.”
The hall stirred. Confused nobles, contrasted by the King in cheerful spirits.
In Rondism, a title is proof of recognition by the King.
Granted only to those judged extremely contributory to the country, the honor of being recorded in the kingdom’s history.
Frankly, I’ve achieved little compared to past heroes.
This isn’t modesty — honestly. What I did was endure some hardship to acquire Reina, to recover Alice.
Not for the country — for personal gain.
So I absolutely don’t want that title.
Escape routes sealed, I came reluctantly.
The shame of being recorded in history as someone who afterward indulged in luxury surrounded by women would last generations……!
But the ceremony advances mercilessly past my inner head-clutching.
“Ouga Veret. You saw through the heinous plan of the criminal Floné Milfonti, freeing Lamdarb Kingdom from her grasp.”
WRONG…… !
I noticed nothing of her plan; I just mistook Reina for being trapped in a black-corporate job……!
“Further, you prevented Juke Andrews — who’d extended roots into politics — from carrying out his crimes.”
WRONG…… !
I moved only to recover Alice, not for any Floné connection……!
“Without your work, we’d have remained unaware of Floné Milfonti’s depravity, with her fangs in our throat.”
How can everything be this misunderstood?
If allowed, I’d reveal everything.
Your Majesty, I’m not such a noble person. I’d say I’m full of nothing but desires.
I kept a smile pasted on, but my heart wept.
“Disregarding personal danger, the bravery and just-heart to execute these — exactly [Holder of a Saintly Heart] — fitting the title [Saint]. By Ambald Rondism, I grant you the title [Saint] in honor!”
The title declared at last; applause rained.
[Saint] — the opposite of my harem and luxury-life goals.
This title will spread instantly from nobles to commoners; Ouga Veret’s name will go national.
And it means a wild monitoring of populace wherever I go.
“With gratitude, I humbly accept!”
A lie. Curse this title.
“I expect your future activity worthy of the [Saint] name.”
“I’ll improve myself to bring many glad tidings to His Majesty!”
Aah…… my dream future crumbles louder……
If I have to lead a disciplined life from now on, retirement with everyone after the Floné fight might be okay.
Escaping reality, I reconstructed a new future.