Chapter 17
“Why, Duke Ashford! It’s been a long time.”
Father and I were walking through the castle when a voice called out behind us, making us stop. The man was portly and decked out in glittering ornaments.
Apparently, he was an acquaintance of Father’s, and the two exchanged greetings.
“Your son has grown quite a bit, hasn’t he? How old is he now?”
As the man looked at me, I bowed slightly and answered.
“I turned six last month. I came to observe my father’s work today.”
“Oh, what a bright-looking young boy!
…If I recall, you haven’t chosen a fiancée for your son yet. How about it? Please do come to my house sometime...”
“My lord, my son has been appointed as a ‘supporter’ to the next Saint. I have no intention of arranging a betrothal for him.”
The man had been sidling over with an eager, hand-rubbing air, but at Father’s interruption, his large body came to an abrupt halt.
Then, after giving me an icy glance,
“Well, that is indeed an important duty. I wish you well. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
He left with a pasted-on smile.
A voice echoed from the man’s retreating figure as he walked away.
‘Hah, so you’ve sunk to being the Saint’s male prostitute. I had my eye on you as a good match for my daughter, but that plan’s gone awry!!’
“Father, what does ‘male prostitute’ mean?”
“...That man just now? It’s a vulgar word you don’t need to hear. Let’s go.”
――I learned what the word meant later.
(Even if they call us ‘supporters,’ in the end, all we do is wait on the Saint, humor her, and seduce her.
Maybe, just as that man said, we’re no different from male prostitutes.)
Because supporters were potential spouses for the Saint, I couldn’t choose a fiancée.
People who had their eye on me as a match for their daughters, or who approached me claiming they admired me, would turn on me as soon as they learned I was a ‘supporter,’ cursing me in their hearts.
‘Vulgar.’ ‘Keeping one woman.’ ‘Filthy’...
My Skill forced me to keep hearing those thoughts, whether I wanted to or not.
Theodore was proud of his position as a supporter who protected and supported the Saint, but I couldn’t feel that way.
(Because this kind of role is something everyone looks down on...)
“...You’ve had to bear such tremendous pressure since you were little.”
Riko’s small hand rested against my cheek, its warmth reaching me. Her deep brown eyes, shining in the lamplight, were turned toward me.
“...You don’t despise me?”
“You didn’t seduce anyone or anything, Julius-san. You just helped someone who was in trouble after being summoned. You’re a very kind person.”
I wondered if I could accept her words at face value, or if she was only trying to be considerate. I hated how skeptical I was.
I unconsciously activated my Emotion Sight Skill, uncovering Riko’s feelings.
“...!”
“Though I wasn’t the Saint. It was me.”
They were a beautiful, deep yellowish green—the color of devotion.
Seeing Riko smile made something deep in my chest tighten, and I held her close, my arms wrapped around her delicate waist.
(――Being summoned might have been a painful and sad experience for you, something you were simply caught up in, but... I’m glad you came to this world with the Saint, Riko...)
I truly felt that way.
◇
The Saint made a forceful request, and the supporters whose purpose was to attend on her were disbanded.
It was thanks to the Saint’s clear rejection. Her threat to “quit her Saint training” seemed to have been particularly effective.
(...I suppose that means those aiming for a fiancée’s position will swarm in next. What a nuisance.)
The original plan was to allow the remaining three supporters to seek fiancées after the Saint had chosen one partner.
Since no date had been set for summoning the Saint, most of the young noblewomen of marriageable age were already married or engaged.
But if that happened, I was concerned that some bold people might break off their engagements—or, in the worst case, even get divorced—in order to forge ties with us.
(...I want Riko.)
I knew I was possessive enough to want Riko to wear my colors, even when introducing her to the two other supporters who could also be candidates for her marriage.
Edgardo hadn’t noticed my childish attempt to stake my claim, but Sylvain-sama had teased me about it.
(I don’t want to force her. Riko’s happiness comes first.
...But if you ever start thinking about marriage, I want to be the first person you remember...)
“...Just remember, there’s an unmarried nobleman with the holy attribute right in front of you, too.”
When I told her that and kissed her hand, her heart erupted in a loud scream.
After that, the flustered Riko accidentally drank my wine, put on quite a display of drunkenness, and eventually fell asleep as if she’d lost consciousness.
“Heh... ‘It’s your fault for being so handsome,’ huh?”
Laughing, I gently lifted her slightly warm body.
She was so light and delicate that I held her firmly to keep from dropping her, then walked quietly down the silent corridor.
I gently laid Riko on her adorable powder-blue bed and pulled the covers up to her neck.
I gazed at her face in the moonlight and gently stroked her tousled bangs with my fingertips.
“I’m sure you’ll be screaming inside again tomorrow morning.
...Good night, Riko. Sweet dreams.”
I leaned down and gently pressed my lips to her forehead.
After looking at her face one last time, I suppressed my reluctance and left the room.