Dinner proceeded in a tense atmosphere. The servants had already lined up to the side after placing the dishes on the table. The golden-brown lamb chops, the slightly charred cabbage hearts drizzled with cream, the roasted mashed potatoes sprinkled with herbs that looked incredibly appetizing, and the roasted prawns of an unknown variety but as big as a palm. Each exquisite dish looked mouthwatering.
But wait, why was everything roasted?
Lita watched the King grab a lamb chop with his hand and shove it into his mouth, and suddenly felt that question was unnecessary.
However, there were other dishes: mashed potatoes drizzled with jam—no, it should be yam paste; orange juice ice cream; sesame leaves with ham; almond cheese with dried fruit; and tuna paste that smelled strangely like cat food. The variety of dishes was so great that Lita felt it would be enough to last Cecilia two days.
The quality of the food was definitely among the best in the kingdom. Even though she had to carefully cut her food following dining etiquette and try not to make noise, Lita still enjoyed the meal quite a bit.
The King’s eating habits were as bold as ever. The silver knife clinked against the porcelain plate, producing crisp sounds that Lita didn’t hear from her side. Even before picking up the knife and fork, the King had already grabbed the lamb chops with his hands. Strangely, despite his rough movements, the juices and sauces rarely splashed out of the plate, as if some instinctive control was embedded in every movement of this obese monarch.
“Lita.” The King forcefully swallowed a large mouthful of arugula covered in mashed potatoes and spoke unhurriedly.
That’s right, he had tossed the arugula and ham directly into the mashed potatoes and stirred them together. ‘Impressive, bro. Impressive.’ But since the King had called her, she had to respond. Fortunately, she was eating in very small bites, so she could reply immediately.
“Your Majesty, you called?”
“Mm.” As Lita spoke, the King used his fork like a spoon to scoop up another large chunk of mashed potatoes and swallowed it forcefully. “Cecilia said you were a candidate she met in Solus City. Before that, where are you from? What do your parents do? And why did you want to become a Holy Knight?”
‘Here it comes!’
Lita’s mental alarm bells rang softly. She knew she couldn’t escape this question. But hadn’t the King asked this before? If he had, what had she answered back then? Whatever, her story was either vague or the one she had made up in Solus City. There wasn’t much difference.
Lita put down her fork and used the inside of her napkin to wipe the theoretically nonexistent sauce from the corner of her mouth—all details Brienne had emphasized.
“Your Majesty, I come from Pelopelo Village on the border of the kingdom.” Lita chose a very safe approach: reuse the same story she had told in Solus City.
She had told this story many times, each time cleverly adding small details. Now her story was polished to perfection. Of course, if her lies were exposed, it didn’t matter. She could simply shift the blame to Cecilia: tell them that if they had questions, they could confirm with Cecilia.
After all, Cecilia knew Lita came from another world. Although that seemed common among the Demon Race and Cecilia wasn’t surprised, it was still an established fact. Therefore, Cecilia would also help Lita cover up the lies. In the end, everything would become Cecilia deliberately hiding Lita’s identity, making it impossible for others to investigate. ‘Lady Cecilia, how convenient!’
The King squinted his eyes as Lita spoke. He only slowed down his eating a little and occasionally glanced at Lita, but she could tell most of his attention was still on the food in front of him. This was indeed good news. For the King, her answer might not be very important, perhaps just small talk.
After Lita finished, the King cut with his knife nine times, sent half a cabbage heart into his mouth, crunched it, and finally said in a deep voice: “You come from a commoner background. It’s not easy for you to reach this point and earn my daughter’s appreciation.”
The King took another gulp of wine. “Not only did you pass the assessment, but you also survived the chaotic situation in Solus City and protected my daughter’s safety. You truly have skill.”
“This is all thanks to Lady Cecilia giving me this opportunity. Without Lady Cecilia’s help, I couldn’t have done any of this,” Lita answered cautiously.
“Opportunities are given by others, but seizing them is also a skill. When I was young and hunting, I was very good at seizing opportunities.”
Just like his physique, the King slowly told a story about how he once grabbed a wild boar’s charging tusk, threw it over his shoulder, and then pierced its throat with a spear. Although Lita found it hard to imagine how this King could dexterously grab a boar’s tusk, it was still better than another king who ended his life by a boar.
“Opportunities,” the King mused. “Just like that previous trial. Many people seized their opportunities.”
The King’s topic shift was too abrupt, making Lita’s heart tighten slightly. She looked up and saw the King still eating, with some sauce on the beard of his multiple chins. Lita took a deep breath, swallowing the saliva that had built up from nervousness.
“Your Majesty, are you referring to the trial regarding the Golden Blood?”
“What else? Is my royal palace a courtroom? Do I look like a fair judge holding a little wooden mallet and reading out charges all day?” The King snorted indignantly, but he wasn’t angry—Lita could tell.
“It caused quite a stir. The Crest Knights have never gathered so fully before, all because of you. Quite the spectacle.”
Lita felt her mouth filling with saliva again, forcing her to swallow forcefully. “At that time, I was really nervous. I thought…”
“That’s right. Anyone who isn’t nervous is a fool! Or they were prepared. From your expression, you didn’t seem ready. So, what were you thinking back then?”
Being called a fool wasn’t new to Lita, but this time she was somewhat relieved to be classified as a “fool.”
Recalling that trial, the King seemed to be influenced by Lilia’s unexpected intervention, yet at the critical moment, he roughly threw the decision-making power to the Crest Knights. Yes, the Crest Knights—although the King had asked the princesses for their opinions, the final decision didn’t rest with them but with these knights loyal to the kingdom.
Later, the punishment for Cecilia was light, and in hindsight, her own sentencing had left plenty of leeway—except for Lilia, no one would target Cecilia so much. The King had already roughly cleared most of the obstacles in front of her.
A thought flashed like lightning through Lita’s mind. ‘That trial itself was a test for me.’
A test of her reaction under extreme pressure, and even to prevent her from being entangled with someone, he had gathered everyone there. A test of Cecilia’s attitude toward the kingdom and toward her.
At the same time, he was observing others: Lilia’s impatience, Amelia’s so-called fair balancing, Rosalia’s wisdom in staying aloof without revealing her thoughts, and even the attitudes of the ministers and Crest Knights. Of course, Amelia probably didn’t show much—who knew what that princess was thinking.
“How I dealt with the other knights afterward was probably also part of the test.” If she hadn’t passed almost all the tests, she probably couldn’t view the experience from an outside perspective now. Since she had already passed the test, sweet-talking would backfire.
“Actually, looking back now, I think that trial was necessary. The leakage of Golden Blood is no small matter. Accepting the trial in front of everyone and accepting the outcome is what I should do,” Lita took a deep breath and answered slowly. “At that time… I was actually very scared. Not just of losing the Golden Blood, but also of losing the strength to protect Lady Cecilia after losing it, and then Lady Cecilia would face even more criticism and pressure because of me.”
“Heh heh.” The King laughed with his shoulders shaking, no longer touching his food. “But you did well. Nervous like a little mouse, but not so flustered that you said the wrong thing. Neither servile nor overbearing. You’re indeed knight material.”
“Your Majesty flatters me…”
Before Lita could think of what to say next, the King spoke again: “But as for Cecilia…”
When Cecilia was mentioned, Lita’s heart tensed again.
“Cecilia did well. She’s worthy of being my daughter. She usually keeps quiet, but this time she made me look at her with new eyes.”
‘Phew, that was scary!’
“But if your performance hadn’t satisfied me, or if you had ulterior motives, I might not have taken this stance. Cecilia chose you, and I’ve heard about your deeds. Even Silver Fang spoke highly of you—that’s not easy.”
Indeed, Brienne always had a sour face, but more importantly, Second Princess Rosalia, while staying out of it, still allowed Brienne to say those words in front of the King. That stance itself was leaning toward Cecilia. That was probably what surprised the King most.
“I won’t let my daughter’s savior suffer any injustice. Don’t worry,” the King added.
This sentence was so abrupt that Lita was stunned for a moment, but then she realized what the King meant. Look at him from the start, he had that attitude. But in reality, from the moment the trial began, he was already figuring out how to let her pass the test safely. So even if Aierteer had said those words about stripping the Golden Blood, the King would probably have found an excuse to reject it.
‘He’s a man of true feelings. I’d even clink glasses with him.’ But she couldn’t be rude. She could only wet her dry throat with summer red wine.
“Ah, Cecilia.” The King sighed. For a moment, he no longer seemed like a monarch, but revealed a side of a father he shouldn’t have shown. “She hasn’t had it easy all these years.”
Lita didn’t press. Now wasn’t the time. She just needed to listen quietly.
“All my daughters have their own ideas, and Cecilia is no exception. But because of her special circumstances, she couldn’t strive for the same things as her sisters. She’s suffered many losses. I’ve been worried about what she’ll do in the future.”
Although the King didn’t say it explicitly, Lita understood he was referring to the Royal Selection. The Royal Selection was imminent. Even if Cecilia had no intention of competing for the throne, others might still target her. ‘Yes, Lilia, I’m talking about you!’
“Oh, by the way, Amelia also did something, but relatively covertly. Many of those maids are Amelia’s people. Her pleading for you—I thought I would never see that in my lifetime.”
The King said this with a wistful tone, then closed his mouth and fell silent. There was no sound of knife and fork. The dining hall experienced a brief quiet, only the crackling of firewood in the fireplace.
“Take good care of her.” The King shed the dignity of a monarch, even though that dignity had been mostly lost in his excessive behavior. His voice turned serious. He raised his glass as if to clink with Lita, but only gestured and then downed it himself.
“She chose you, so you are her sturdy shield and sharp blade. Whether she wants to fight for the throne or live a peaceful life, just stay by her side.”
The King slammed the glass heavily on the table, his eyes carrying a threat, as if hinting at the consequences of breaking the oath—though it was unnecessary.
“Lita, do you understand?”
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