Rosens Full Course (11): The Chief Steward on His Knees...?
Even if a dimensional gate suddenly ripped open in the inn and demons poured out, it wouldn't have left me more flustered than this. Demons could just be killed off, but how the hell was I supposed to handle the chief steward kneeling?
I half-stumbled out of my chair in a daze, reaching down to pull him up.
"Get up, please. I don't know how big this request is, but..."
"No, I'll stay like this. It's the only way I can be sure you'll hear me out, Balder."
"Uh... what, you want me to become a hero again or something?"
"No. I just want you to come back to the royal palace."
I stared down at him for a moment before replying.
"What's the difference?"
"It's not about achieving some grand feat for the kingdom. Just stay at the palace. We'll cover all your expenses and give you a stipend on top. If you need it, we'll even help you open another inn in the capital."
The offer sounded outrageously generous at first glance, leaving me baffled. What the hell is this all about, out of nowhere? One possibility sprang to mind, though. Back at the banquet right after the late king's funeral, Elua had made a similar pitch. Return to the palace, she'd said—they'd handle everything. She'd even dangled an absurdly high salary, conditions no one could refuse.
But I'd turned her down. It was clearly a preemptive move to keep me from siding with the noble council or Gobert, and I had zero interest in getting caged by Elua. Besides, I was deep into running the inn back then—I couldn't dream of leaving Rosens.
"Elua said something like that too. Just having me in her pocket neutralizes most threats."
"Elua... she's extremely unstable."
I jolted in surprise when the name slipped from the lips of the chief steward, a man steeped in palace etiquette to his bones.
"Look, this is gonna take a while, so sit down. Please. You're making me uncomfortable."
I practically forced him up and into the chair.
"Hang on. You couldn't drink the liquor earlier, right? I'll grab some cider instead of beer."
I brought over two glasses of apple cider and handed one across. He ignored it completely and pressed on.
"Do you know the state of the kingdom right now, Balder?"
"Not really, but isn't the noble council getting cocky while Gobert sharpens his knives?"
"Spot on. The late king was indecisive, sure, but he had rock-solid legitimacy and made bold moves early in his reign to build a foundation. You might not know this, Balder, but in his youth, he was as fierce as the Avenger King."
"Makes sense. Even in old age, no one dared cross him. The tiger's teeth may be gone, but the claws remain."
The chief steward nodded and continued.
"But not Elua. She's the legitimate heir, but she's young, and the succession was riddled with suspicions. The noble council, Gobert, and the late king's old guard—they won't accept it."
"Let me ask one thing."
I met his gaze squarely.
"Did Elua kill the late king?"
He didn't answer right away, just held my eyes. After a pause, he spoke.
"I don't know."
"Pardon?"
"I don't know. No one does whether Elua killed the late king or not."
"Come on, what does that even... Brione or the intelligence chief would know, right? And you've been right by Elua's side..."
"Even so, you can't monitor someone's every move. I did try surveilling her at first... but after several agents turned up dead, I stopped."
What the...? Then it hit me—the maid's corpse I'd seen carted out on a wagon.
"Exactly. We planted undercover agents to curb her self-harm and erratic behavior... but as you know, Balder, Elua's clever and cunning as they come."
"Agents getting butchered by a kid...?"
"I said she's clever and cunning."
"Hmm..."
"So no one knows if Elua had a hand in the late king's death. No poison in the body, no signs of foul play... but if she put her mind to it, covering tracks would be child's play."
"But nitpick like that, and there's no end to it. That's why you're saying you don't know."
No proof it was Elua—but that lack of proof could itself be proof she did it. Or maybe it wasn't her at all, just natural death from old age. That ambiguity was the knot twisting the kingdom's politics into chaos. And for factions dead-set against her? Proof or no proof, what did it matter? I'd seen plenty during my decade at the palace—punished for crimes that never happened, promoted for feats that didn't exist. In a power struggle among the mighty, it was even worse.
Elua was in a no-win spot, whether she'd killed him or not. Give up the throne? The wolves tearing at her now wouldn't let a future threat like her live peacefully.
"Still, with the mages and intelligence bureau under her thumb, couldn't she consolidate power in the palace step by step?"
"How? By killing off everyone not on her side one by one? The palace would end up empty. She'd have to fill it with rookie ninth-grade clerks."
"It's... way more precarious than I thought."
The late king had probably groomed Gobert as successor, placing his allies in key posts ahead of time. Then Elua swooped in out of nowhere.
Damn... but still, no.
"I get what you're saying, chief steward, but that doesn't mean I want to go back as Elua's hunting dog."
"It's not like that, Balder. A hunting dog? This mess is beyond your power to fix—it'd only make things worse."
"Then why call me to the palace?"
His stern face, not a drop of blood to spare even if stabbed, grew serious.
"Stay by Elua's side."
"What...?"
"Just be there. No need to share a bedroom. As long as you're in her line of sight."
If anyone else had said that, I'd have grabbed their collar and tossed them out. But the chief steward wasn't one for idle jokes. Born and bred in the palace, he'd managed its affairs his whole life, serving the king and royals.
"Not some father picking a groom for his little girl. Explain."
"Elua has a mental illness."
"I know. The royal curse, right? Snake eyes, self-harm."
"Yes. Every royal afflicted has gone mad—dying young or by suicide. Elua's the outlier, lasting this long."
"Go on."
He glanced down at his cider glass.
"While at the palace, I did my own research. Saintesses and mages threw up their hands at this vicious illness, yet why has Elua survived? I dug deep."
"Any conclusions?"
"It's you, Balder. Or more precisely..."
His eyes shifted to the Holy Sword hanging behind me.
"...the Holy Sword, maybe."
"The Holy Sword..."
His gaze returned to me.
"Before you arrived at the palace, Elua was in bad shape. Killing agents wasn't enough—she'd slash her wrists, try hanging, leap from terraces. One night, she barricaded the central corridor with a longsword she'd god-knows-where and went on a rampage."
"Damn... she was even crazier back then."
"We thought she'd die soon. We'd even planned her funeral. Then you walked in."
"Hmm... I don't remember her seeming all that normal even when I was there."
"That was much improved."
"Ah."
He nodded.
"After you arrived, her self-harm and outbursts dropped sharply. The nightly wall-scratching stopped; no more suspecting and torturing maids."
"So... how's she held up since I retired?"
"She's sliding back. Haven't you noticed anything?"
Come to think of it, at the funeral reunion, her first impression was like a snake in human skin. I'd thought she hadn't been that bad before.
"Of course... the crushing weight of royal duty, obligations, stress—it's kept her in check so far. But if it builds, she might snap beyond recovery."
"Manageable as princess, but as queen? No containing that."
He glanced around the inn hall.
"I was always worried, but today at the inn... she looked so happy. Even blissful."
I blinked in shock. The chief steward of all people... was smiling.
"That smile today... I hadn't seen it since she was a little girl. Now I get why she clings to you so fiercely."
"Uh..."
"Elua finds peace when you're near."
His face hardened again.
"So come back to the palace, Balder."