Soichiro felt his body fly impossibly high into the air. For one brief instant, all he could see was the blue sky.
—Then, when he next became aware of his surroundings, he was standing in a space that was white in every direction.
『I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my distinguished middle-aged gentleman.』
The faint voice of a young woman reached him through her sobs. It seemed to descend from the heavens, and he could not tell where its owner was.
“Um…”
『I’m sure a capable gentleman like you will find a way to make everything work. I have bestowed my blessing upon you, so please take good care of my children.』
The voice that had been weeping apologetically abruptly turned forceful.
“Wait—I cannot even see you, and I have no idea what you are talking about…”
Being told without warning to “take care of them” left Soichiro utterly lost. Even the time he had been transferred to General Affairs and saddled with on-the-job training duties had not been this unreasonable.
* * *
To begin with, the General Affairs Department was not a dumping ground.
Whenever another department had an employee it could not manage, someone would say, “Come to think of it, General Affairs has a lot of people on reduced hours. Didn’t you say you were short-handed?” Then they would foist an employee from a completely unrelated field upon the department.
The women in General Affairs followed carefully planned daily routines so they could leave work on time. There was simply no room in those schedules for training a new employee.
As a result, whenever a newcomer arrived, their instruction usually fell to Soichiro.
He knew perfectly well that they were being pushed onto him, but he always treated them sincerely, trained them properly, and helped them find a place within the company. Soichiro was calm, never lost his temper, and took responsibility whenever mistakes occurred. Inevitably, the new employees grew deeply attached to him.
But just as each one finally became competent…
“Oh, that new employee seems to have settled down lately. Could you send them back to their original department?”
“—Pardon?”
Soichiro had gone through the same thing many times, yet his honest reaction never changed.
*Now that is simply too unreasonable…*
* * *
“What did that woman mean by ‘my children’…? I suppose she was referring to the characters from the novel.”
Although it was still the middle of the day, Soichiro had returned to what appeared to be his own lavish chambers.
Whenever he deliberately tried to remember something, Zephal’s memories surfaced clearly enough. He did not appear likely to encounter any trouble in daily life.
Once he had dismissed the servants, he tried muttering “Status Open” and “Item Box,” following the conventions of the light novels he had read in his previous life. Nothing happened.
*I let myself get carried away despite my age… How embarrassing.*
He had worn glasses in his previous life, and although none now rested upon his nose, his fingers wandered awkwardly to the bridge out of habit.
Still, the experiment had not been entirely fruitless.
“This much, at least, should prove useful.”
Soichiro held both palms open before him. A translucent book glowing with pale light appeared above them.
When he turned its pages, he found the full text of *The Abandoned Saintess’s Tale of Revenge*, the original novel. A cursor blinked upon the page as if telling him that he had found the right place.
It looked like a book, yet its contents behaved like a word-processing program. There were line breaks, and every paragraph began with a one-character indent.
“Well, I’m certainly grateful that I can consult the original.”
Everything that had occurred before Soichiro’s intervention was recorded exactly as it had been in the novel. The pages describing the future also contained the plot as he remembered it.
But the exchange that had just taken place in the audience chamber was now written in vermilion, setting it apart from the original black text.
Perhaps Soichiro’s actions would continue adding more vermilion passages.
“Hm? Did the red text just increase again?”
The blinking cursor suddenly began moving across the page.
*After his audience with Zephal, Raficel was prepared for the night and escorted to Zephal’s chambers by a maid—*
*Prepared for the night?*
Soichiro stared hard at the passage, wondering if he had misread it. His eyesight was young again, so presbyopia could hardly be blamed. Just then, someone knocked upon the door.
“Your Highness Zephal, Lord Raficel has arrived.”
“……Enter.”
Unable to finish checking the passage, Soichiro closed the book and released it. It dissolved into the air like smoke.
He did not know how it worked, but to anyone watching, he would probably appear to be performing a very peculiar pantomime.
*I must be careful not to consult the book in front of other people.*
After clearing his throat, he turned toward the door and met the dazed gaze of Raficel, who stood there alone. The maid had already withdrawn.
“—You look terribly cold.”
“……”
Raficel was certainly clean compared with the soot-covered state he had been in earlier. His golden hair had regained its luster, and his pale skin seemed almost luminous.
But the billowing white shirt he had been given was so thin that it was translucent. His black trousers clung tightly to his body—and ended at the knee.
The result was an adorable pageboy-like outfit. Dressing a fifteen-year-old that way seemed rather cruel.
*Did my order to make him presentable and bring him to my chambers sound like that sort of request?*
A pageboy—or, more precisely, a bedchamber companion.
Had it truly been common for powerful men to keep beautiful boys by their sides? Someone like Mori Ranmaru?
Raficel’s ears reddened, and he lowered his eyes in discomfort. His knees even seemed to turn slightly inward.
*Honestly. What sort of monster lays a hand on a minor?*
With a sigh, Soichiro rang the bell. A maid hurried in and asked in a near shriek whether Raficel had caused some offense.
“—Prepare a light meal for two.”
“Pardon?”
“Anything simple that can be served quickly will do, but bring plenty of it.”
“Y-Yes! At once!”
Once the maid had gone, Soichiro turned back to Raficel.
“Sit.”
“Huh? Um…on the bed?”
“Forget about that. We will eat first.”
“……Eat?”
“You are hungry, aren’t you?”
While consulting the original novel, Soichiro had realized something. Raficel must be exhausted. Since late the previous night, adults had dragged him from place to place amid the uproar over his supposed rebellion.
And Soichiro knew better than anyone that the evidence against him had been fabricated.
At the very least, he wanted Raficel—the victim of the entire affair—to enjoy one peaceful meal.
“Please help yourselves.”
A serving cart arrived bearing round bread rolls stuffed with cheese or ham, accompanied by root-vegetable soup.
Raficel watched the food with a hungry expression and had to be urged before he began.
“Y-Yes!”
After offering a brief prayer, he ate with tremendous enthusiasm. His manners remained perfectly refined, but his speed was extraordinary.
In the original story, Raficel had been sent to the mines at fifteen. The hard labor rapidly built his body, and by the time he returned to the royal capital, he had grown into a powerfully built swordsman. He was muscular enough to carry the Saintess while running and still swing his sword.
*Yet right now, he is only a pitifully beautiful boy.*
Watching Raficel lift a roll to his mouth with shining eyes, Soichiro could not keep himself from smiling.
“—!”
The bread fell from Raficel’s fingers.
“What is it?”
“N-Nothing…”
“Do not rush. Eat slowly.”
The small table and its two facing chairs had likely been intended for wine and other late-night drinks rather than full meals. The seats were quite close together.
Noticing crumbs around Raficel’s lips, Soichiro drew out a handkerchief and gently wiped them away.
“Y-Your—! B-Broth…Lord Zephal!”
Raficel’s ears turned scarlet. He covered his mouth with both hands, evidently having almost called Zephal his elder brother, then timidly corrected himself and used his name.
*If I remember correctly, Zephal forbade him from calling him that in the original story.*
Zephal had regarded Raficel, the concubine’s son, as neither a prince nor a brother and had loathed him like a venomous snake. Soichiro even remembered an episode in which Zephal openly flew into a rage at the word *Brother*, precisely because it acknowledged their blood relationship.
*If I suddenly tell him that he may call me that now, will Raficel be able to accept it? Probably not.*
“……Eat. Your soup will grow cold.”
“Yes. I apologize.”
“You may have my share if that is not enough.”
“No, I could not!”
“I am not hungry.”
Soichiro exchanged his untouched plate for the empty one before Raficel. He met the boy’s wide, blinking blue eyes and nodded in encouragement. Hunger finally won, and Raficel reached for the bread.
“Listen while you eat. From this day forward, you will serve as my personal attendant.”
“Yes.”
“When others are present, address me as ‘Lord Zephal.’”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
Raficel answered with the keen expression of a puppy delighted to have been given an important task.
“—But when we are alone as we are now, you may call me ‘Brother.’”
“What?”
“And when I am not attending to official business, may I call you ‘Rafi’?”
The bread fell from Raficel’s hands once more.
His blue eyes opened wide and sparkled more beautifully than any jewel. Soichiro narrowed his own eyes, admiring their radiance.
“Y-Yes…then, please do.”
“Good. Rest properly today, Rafi. Tomorrow, I will be traveling some distance.”
Still unused to the nickname, Raficel flushed to the roots of his hair. His mouth wobbled with a shy smile, though he desperately tried to conceal it behind both hands. The sight was endearing.
“W-Where will you be going?”
“—To the Goddess’s temple, to bring the Saintess home.”
At Soichiro’s gentle smile, Raficel blinked once again in astonishment.
