CH 3

Chapter 3: An Unusual Slave Trader

— 30th day, 11th month, 1,546th year, Continental Calendar — Royal Capital Parnam —

With the confusion caused by the annexation of Amidonia having settled, the people had regained their calm.

It was fully winter now, and on this morning I was finding it harder to leave the warmth of bed. When I woke to the sound of a door hurriedly being shut, I began to stir, my mind still only half-awake.

Brr... I’m cold. Also, my head feels heavy. Did I catch something? I ought to get more blankets for this simple bed in the governmental affairs office. I’ll ask the maids about it later.

While I was thinking that, I turned over and something soft touched my forehead.

“Ahn,” said a strangely amorous voice.

...Something strange was going on.

As my head cleared, I came to understand my current situation. First, my head was in a lock. It seemed someone was holding it tight. Was this why it had felt heavy to me? Well, at least it wasn’t a cold...

Wait, that wasn’t the problem here! My forehead was pressed up against this person’s bosom. If it was slightly soft, that meant...

“Whoa, what?!”

I hurriedly broke free of the person’s hold.

There, before my eyes, was Roroa with a pleased look on her sleeping face. She was drooling a little, but I pretended not to notice that part.

Huh? What? This situation... Why is Roroa sleeping next to me?!

This room... It was definitely the governmental affairs office. I was in my simple bed, no doubt about that. So, why was I sharing it with Roroa? She was... wearing clothes, at least.

Actually, neither of us were in our nightclothes; we were both dressed in regular clothes.

Huh? What on Earth happened last night? I wracked my brains, trying to recall what had happened yesterday...

“Souma? What, pray tell, are you doing?” I heard a cold voice from above me.

I turned my head slowly, with a creaking sound like a robot that’s run out of oil, and there stood Liscia with a smile that gave off a terrifying aura like a hannya mask. Behind her was Aisha, who was in tears for some reason.

“Oh... morning, Liscia, Aisha,” I murmured.

“Don’t you ‘morning’ me!” Liscia shouted, pulling the covers off me.

Roroa curled up into the fetal position, looking cold, but she still didn’t wake up.

Liscia put her hand on her hip and asked, “What is the meaning of this?! Aisha rushed into my room in tears, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said, ‘I went to rouse His Majesty, and I found him sleeping with Roroa!’”

“Why would you lay your hands on Roroa before the princess or me?! I can’t accept it!” Aisha shouted through her tears.

Um, please, don’t say that so loudly, I silently pleaded. If the workers in the castle overheard, they’d talk about how I was “caught in the act”!

“Calm down, Aisha! Roroa and I are both wearing clothes, right? I’m pretty sure whatever you two are imaging didn’t happen... I think.”

“Why can you not be more certain?!” Aisha shouted.

“Well, I don’t remember what happened before I went to sleep,” I said. “Why are we together in the same bed with our clothes on, anyway?”

“What really happened?” Liscia demanded. “Why don’t you try to remember what you did last night?”

Following Liscia’s suggestion, I went through the events of last night in my head.

I recalled having done some work to sort things out after the annexation of Amidonia, in order to adjust the taxation scheme (the Principality of Amidonia had a lower population than the kingdom, and to compensate, the individual tax burden was higher). I had summoned Roroa, Colbert, and bureaucrats from the finance ministries of both countries for meetings that had lasted late into the night.

Those talks had been going on since the day before yesterday, and we had already pulled one all-nighter on them. We had been taking breaks as we went along.

In the end, by the time we’d come up with an overall plan, the day had changed, and it was around 3:00 in the morning today. Everyone had been pretty out of it then.

Colbert and the bureaucrats had shambled out of the room like zombies, while I had taken a dive into the simple bed set up in the office with my clothes still on... and fallen asleep, probably. Some time had passed between then and now. Perhaps Roroa had slept here rather than return to her own room.

I shook Roroa’s shoulder as she continued to greedily indulge in more sleep.

“Hey, Roroa. Get up.”

“Hm... What’s up? Darlin’... I’m still sleepy.” Roroa rubbed her eyes as she sat up in bed.

“No, not ‘What’s up?’” I demanded. “Why are you sleeping here?”

“Cut a gal some slack,” she said. “I was downright exhausted after all the meetin’ yesterday. I didn’t have the energy for draggin’ myself back to my own room, so I joined you in bed, Darlin’.” Roroa stretched, then stood up from the bed on unsteady legs. She was still groggy and couldn’t see straight. “It’s no good. I’m still tired. Gonna go back to sleep in my own room.”

“Yeesh...” Liscia said, with an air of one who’s washed her hands of the whole situation. “Aisha, please, would you carry this girl back to her room?”

Aisha snapped to attention out of her daze. “Yes! At once, princess!”

“Also, haven’t I told you not to call me ‘princess’?”

“U-Understood. Pri... Lady Liscia.”

Now that Aisha had become the second candidate to become a primary queen and their positions were close, Liscia had started telling Aisha not to address her as princess, but to use her name instead. Aisha was still getting it wrong, though.

Aisha supported the groggy, staggering Roroa and led her out of the governmental affairs office.

Having watched the two of them go, I hesitantly looked to Liscia.

“Um... That’s how it is, so could I perhaps ask for your forgiveness this time?” For some reason, I sounded like a man making excuses after he was caught cheating, but this is what it means to live as a man.

“Honestly...” Liscia puffed up her cheeks a little as she plopped herself down on the bed. “These things happen because you have a bed here. Maybe I should break it?”

“Please don’t,” I said. “Where would I sleep?”

“You finally made a room of your own, didn’t you? Or would you rather use my bed? Use a different one each day.” Liscia gave me a heavy stare.

Did she mean that I should use her, Aisha, Juna, and Roroa’s beds, taking turns in a different one each day...?

“I think I’d be too nervous to sleep, so let me pass on that, please,” I said.

“Geez,” she muttered. “I’m being hounded by Marx to ‘Produce an heir, quickly!’ you know?”

“Urkh... Could you wait a little longer on that? I do have something in mind.”

“Something in mind?” she asked.

I rose from my bed and stretched. “I’ve finally stabilized the internal political situation in the country. I’ve got a secret pact with the Empire, too, and though there are some countries nearby that worry me, things should be stable for the time being. Well, that’ll depend on what the Demon Lord’s Domain does, though.”

“I suppose...”

“Also... I’ve managed to convince myself that I should become king,” I said.

“I wish you’d say you’ve resolved yourself to do it instead.”

“Resolved myself to it... Maybe I have? I’m prepared to face the consequences.”

“I’m not really getting the difference there,” said Liscia.

“There’s nothing standing in my way. So...” I puffed up my chest to look more confident. “Now I’m going to do as I please. Up until now, securing my power was the first priority, so I was avoiding policies that would cause too much of a stir in society. If a policy had been too out there, it would have caused needless internal confusion, and that could have benefited a foreign adversary. But now, I don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to do more and more to remake this country.”

I declared this pretty forcefully, but Liscia still had a dry look on her face.

“That’s fine, but... what does that have to do with you still not having laid a hand on me?”

I was silent.

It looked like I’d failed to dodge the issue. I’d thought I’d managed to change the topic, too...

Let me say now, it wasn’t that I was adverse to doing those things with Liscia and the others. No, really, I wanted to act all lovey-dovey with them. I mean, the current situation was giving me a serious case of blue balls. But, before that, there was something I needed to accomplish. For Liscia and the others’ sake, too.

“W-Well, you’ll find out the answer eventually,” I said.

“You’re not just dodging the issue?” Liscia demanded.

When Liscia tried to stare into my eyes, I averted them the best I could manage.

“I really do need more capable people working for me,” I said.

I was seated around a “kotatsu” table with Liscia, Aisha, Juna, and Roroa, who had woken up after having gone back to sleep, and we were eating lunch. I’d decided it was a good time to broach that topic.

This was my room in the castle, which I’d made after Hakuya had informed me, “It’s about time you got a room of your own.” The truth was, I had been allotted the room much earlier, but I’d been using it as a storage room for the Little Musashibos. Since he’d insisted I use it, I had given it a major remodel. For that, I’d used the financial support for supporting the king’s lifestyle (my salary) and went wild with major renovations to suit my tastes... and what was the result?

The two small rooms, each of which were around the size of a six-tatami-mat room (which would be 106.7 square feet), were connected by a door between them, creating a room almost like a Japanese apartment.

One room had carpet laid over wooden flooring, and that was where my work space with a treadle sewing machine was. It was a room where I could focus fully on making clothing or accessories, purely as a hobby, or dolls like the Little Musashibos.

The room that would serve as my ordinary living quarters was, thanks to some nice touches by the designer (me), a perfect reproduction of a Japanese-style room. As soon as I’d heard that there was a tatami culture in the Nine-Headed Dragon Archipelago, I had procured a number of those straw mats and laid them in this room.

Also, there was an area in the center of the room that had been dug out, on top of which I’d placed a round table with a blanket stuffed in between the space where our legs went and the bottom of the table. There was another hole dug out inside of that dug-out area, and beneath it I had installed the heater Genia developed based on an idea I gave her.

Basically, I had recreated a hori-gotatsu.

In the dug-out area where our feet rested, there was a dome-shaped iron grate, keeping us from touching the heater. It was a lovely space, warm in winter, and nice and breezy in summer once you took the blanket out. Truly, it was a space that let you feel the designer’s (my) attention to detail.

And, well, that was the sort of room I’d made, but all of my fiancées really liked it, especially Liscia, and they had taken to staying here. The hori-gotatsu was really popular with them. It had gotten pretty cold outside, after all.

After the annexation of Amidonia, Hakuya had said, “Please, understand, this is necessary to maintain your authority,” and forbade me from using the general cafeteria, so I had taken to having my breakfast and dinner (lunch was usually in the governmental affairs office) here around the table with Liscia and the others.

Most of the meals were made for me by the castle chefs, but on days like today, when I wanted to eat something Japanese, I made it myself. I had rice, soy sauce, and miso to work with, after all.

The meals I made were a novelty to them, so Liscia and the others liked them, but Hakuya and Marx weren’t happy about it. It wasn’t the taste they didn’t like. It was that I was making plain-looking food, serving it to my fiancées, and we were all eating it like it was delicious, which was pretty far from their image of what a king should be like. I didn’t see why even the food I ate had to be fit for a king, though...

For starters, neither Liscia, I, nor the others were the type to indulge in luxury. Juna and I were both former commoners, Liscia had lived a military life where supplies were limited, and having grown up in the forest, Aisha would eat anything so long as it tasted good. Even Roroa seemed interested, saying, “If we could make eatin’ food from your world a hot trend, it’d sell, don’t ya think?”

Besides, even though the food might be simple in appearance, it used rice, which wasn’t that common yet, so the cost was actually pretty high.

Today’s lunch, by the way, was oyakodon, miso soup, and nukazuke.

“Big Sister Ai, could ya pass the pickles?” Roroa asked.

“Mmf, mm-mm-mf (Here, Roroa),” Aisha said through mouthfuls of food.

“Hold on, Roroa,” said Liscia. “You have rice on your face.”

“Hm? Thanks, Big Sister Cia.”

Roroa let Liscia pick the grain of rice that was stuck by her mouth off of her face for her.

Juna looked on warmly as Aisha shoveled food into her face.

If you could cut out just this scene of all of us around the kotatsu, we looked like a real, happy family.

“Lady Aisha,” said Serina. “Would you perhaps like another serving of miso soup?”

“Mmf. I-I would, Madam Serina.”

“Ma... Lady Juna,” said Carla. “We’ve got... There is another serving of rice for you, too.”

“Hee hee! No need to be so stiff and formal, Carla,” Juna giggled.

“Y-You are too kind.”

I have to correct myself; there was one thing that was strange here. There was something like the sort of serving table used at elementary schools during lunchtime in the corner of the room, and there, the maids Serina and Carla were waiting to serve us food. That was out of place.

“And wait... Were any of you listening to me?” I protested.

“Sure,” said Roroa. “We’re listenin’, we’re listenin’.”

“There’s a response from someone who’s clearly not...” I muttered.

“I am listenin’. You’re short of hands, right?”

When Roroa said that, Liscia furrowed her brow. “Are you going to gather people again? I think we have a pretty diverse group of people already...”

“The more talented people we have, the better,” I said. “What I’m after this time is a bit different, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hm... It’s not good to say this, but if I were to rank people on a scale that goes S, A, B, C, D, E, the kind I’m looking for now fall into the B to C range. I want a very large number of them.”

“Sorry,” said Liscia. “I’m not sure I get what you’re saying.”

I put my hand on Roroa’s head. She was sitting next to me with a spoon in her mouth. “For instance, Roroa’s economic sense is anything but mediocre. She can manipulate large amounts of money, find funding, and bring in greater profits. If I were to rank her as a member of my staff, she’d get an S. But one Roroa isn’t enough to run a country, now is it? Roroa needs a bureaucratic system that will serve as her arms and legs. On top of that, she needs people who are capable of doing math to work under her. What we’re short of is those people who can do the math.”

The literacy rate in this world was low, and pretty much the only ones outside of the nobility and knightly class who could do arithmetic were the merchants. Basically, in this world, those who could both write and use numbers would be B or C class personnel. Right now, in this country, we had a shortage of them.

“If that’s what you’re lookin’ for, how’s about hirin’ some merchants who’re closin’ up shop ’cause they couldn’t turn a profit, or who were reduced to bein’ slaves for one reason or another?” Roroa suggested.

But I shook my head. “I tried that already, but it didn’t pan out. If anyone is the least bit talented, someone from the nobility or the knighthood will already have taken them in. Well... that’s my own fault, though.” I said, scratching my head.

Roroa tilted her head quizzically. “What do you mean, your fault?”

“I changed the way evaluations work,” I explained.

In this country, the nobility and knightly classes were, to put it simply, the landholders. Military officials with land were called knights, while civil officials with land were called nobles. That was why there was no distinction between counts and viscounts in the nobility, and anyone with a large amount of land was just addressed as “Lord.”

There were “bureaucrat nobles” who traveled to the capital and regional cities to work in the bureaucracy, leaving their lands in the care of magistrates. There were also “regional nobles” who went to their own domains to manage the land personally. In terms of those I knew personally, Hakuya and Marx would be bureaucrat nobles, while Weist, the Lord of Altomura, would be a regional noble.

The balance of power between the two groups worked in a variety of ways. There were bureaucratic nobles who were involved in affairs of state like Hakuya, while there were also bureaucratic nobles who went to serve in the cities of powerful regional nobles.

In comparison, knights generally left their lands in the hands of a magistrate while they served in the military. This wasn’t absolute. Retired knights, like Weist, might become nobles, and there were also knights who passed their duty to serve in the military on to their children while they managed their lands.

Now, as to the promotion and demotion of these nobles and knights (or, to put it in another way, their acquisition or loss of territory), up until now, the knights had been promoted if they’d distinguished themselves in battle and their rank had risen in the military, while if their conduct had been bad and they’d violated orders, or they’d failed to carry out an operation successfully, they’d been demoted.

In other words, knights had never been held to account for the management of their lands. So if their lands had been mismanaged, the fault had lain with the magistrate, and if they’d sacked and replaced that magistrate, the knights themselves would not have been held responsible. Then again, if the same thing had happened over and over, there would of course have been repercussions.

As for the nobles, they could be promoted by traveling to the capital or cities to work as bureaucratic nobles. For those who didn’t have a strong desire to involve themselves in the affairs of state, it was normal for them to switch to being regional nobles once their lands had expanded to a degree. That was because being a regional noble was more profitable. If there was a noble who had no strong drive for self-advancement, if they were satisfied with their current holding, in many cases they would become a regional noble. However, once they did become a regional noble, they were responsible for any mismanagement of their lands.

Now, as for how I changed our policy on the assessment of nobles and knights...

“In addition to the policies in place up until this point, I’ve placed a heavy emphasis on their ability to manage their land,” I said.

To put it simply, in addition to the assessment metrics in place before, I had announced a system of evaluation that gave more land to those managing theirs well, while reducing the size of their holdings or confiscating them entirely if they were managed poorly.

I had sent the clandestine operations unit that reported directly to me, the Black Cats, to keep watch, and those nobles or knights who ruled well were being given more land, while those who ruled poorly were having their holdings reduced or confiscated.

This clamped down on evil lords and magistrates of the variety you might have seen in period dramas, and my aim was to make the lords communicate with their people and bring them closer together. For good government, it was necessary to know what the people wanted, after all.

Now... as for what had happened as a result, the nobles and knights who had, until now, left their affairs to magistrates had hurriedly begun to pay attention to their holdings.

If their magistrates were capable or average, there were no issues; but if they were incompetent, that could now affect a noble’s own advancement.

There were nobles that had left their positions in the bureaucracy to return to their domains and start to focus fully on managing them. However, for the majority of knights who had no talent for ruling, and for the nobles who still had a path to advancement in their bureaucratic positions, they had rushed to find capable magistrates and personnel to serve under them.

When I explained that, Juna brought a finger to her lips as if recalling something. “Now that you mention it, Grandmother was saying that it had thrown things into utter chaos. There was a time when the nobles and knights would wander through the streets like hungry ghouls chanting ‘peopleeee, peopleeee,’ or something like that.”

“...Yeah,” I said. “Honestly, I think it was a hasty decision on my part.”

The passion of the nobles and knights to find talented personnel had far outstripped my imagination, and anyone able to write or do basic arithmetic, even if they were a commoner, had been welcomed almost like a sage and treated as an equal. This was because, if a noble or knight used authority to take such people away by force, they would face punishment for it.

If they learned that a slave (though not convict slaves sentenced to labor for their crimes), a prostitute, or a person in the slums could write and do arithmetic, they would even go as far as buying them out of bondage to welcome them into their service. The ones who could just write and do arithmetic got this treatment, so if there was someone who was especially good at it, the situation could get pretty incredible.

I want to make you a magistrate! a noble might say. But you’re not from a high enough class! I know — by adopting you as a relative, I can forcibly raise you to a higher social status!

Because of nobles who thought like that, there had been commoners and slaves who’d risen meteorically in a way that normally wouldn’t have been possible. Right after I’d told Maria that she should take the abolition of slavery in the Empire slowly because it would be too major of a reform and would face resistance, had I just caused the class system in my own country to collapse?

“I wonder if I can leverage this to make it so that slavery exists in name only...” I murmured.

“Ah! Speakin’ of slaves, that reminds me,” Roroa said, clapping her hands. “Now, this here’s some information I received through Sebastian after he opened a second location for The Silver Deer here in Parnam, but there’s an unusual slave trader in the city.”

“An unusual slave trader?” I asked.

Roroa laughed mischievously. “I’m thinkin’ they’re the sort of person you’d like to have workin’ for you, Darlin’. Hee hee! How’s about you and I go bumble around town sometime, and we can meet up with them then?”

“Murgh... Would that not be a date?” Aisha complained, looking a bit upset. “No fair.”

Roroa waved her hand. “From what I’ve been hearin’, all of you have had dates with our Darlin’ before. We’re engaged to get hitched now, so I wanna have some lovey-dovey time with my Darlin’, too.”

“I was only there as a bodyguard. He never took me on a date!” Aisha protested.

“Well, you can come along too then, Big Sister Ai,” said Roroa. “We’ll be needin’ a bodyguard anyway.”

“In that case, I see no problem with it.” Having been invited along, Aisha was easily mollified.

Liscia and Juna both said, “We’ll let Roroa have this one,” so it was decided that Roroa, Aisha, and I would go out into the town of Parnam together.

An unusual slave trader, huh? I was a little interested to find out what they were like.

I’m Ginger Camus, age 17. I’m from the Elfrieden Kingdom... Oh, I guess it’s the Kingdom of Friedonia now, huh. Anyway, I’m a slave trader in the capital of the Kingdom of Friedonia.

...Yeah. I’m a slave trader.

Not exactly a respectable job, huh? It’s people buying and selling people, after all.

Well, aside from the convict slaves, most of them were economic slaves who couldn’t afford to eat and didn’t want to go hungry, or who had sold themselves because they needed money; so, in a way, it could have been seen as a sort of welfare system, but... it wasn’t a job you could do without having thick skin.

Me? Mine was thin, you know? Like, paper thin, okay? I fought with stomach pain every day.

Now, you might be wondering what a guy like me was doing as a slave trader. It was because my grandpa who was also a slave trader had passed away. My parents had already passed on, and my grandpa had raised me all by himself, and I’d literally never found out what he did until after he’d died.

When the funeral had ended and I’d been sorting through his estate, that was when I’d come across this store and the slaves he owned.

I can’t do this! I had wanted to scream. Even if you leave all this to me, I have no idea what to do about it!

I had thought of just selling them all off to other slave traders, then finding some other business to make whatever meager living I could, but... when I actually looked at the slaves who were property, I was wordless.

“Erm...”

I had gathered all of the slaves who were the merchandise in one place. There were around twenty slaves of various races and genders ranging from children to middle-aged lined up in front of me. They each wore a thin, crude outfit consisting of a large piece of cloth with a hole in the middle for the head, and they looked at me with fear and anxiety in their eyes. What were they so scared about?

“Don’t you understand, Shopmaster?” One slave girl with a defiant look in her eyes stepped forward.

She was maybe a little older than I was. She was a pretty beastman girl with masculine features, triangular ears, and a thick, long, striped tail. With the thin clothes she had on, I could see she had a shapely figure, too.

“You’re a mystic tanuki?” I asked.

“I’m a raccoon person,” she said, glaring at me.

As a human, I couldn’t tell the difference, but because the mystic tanukis and raccoon people looked similar, they apparently hated being mistaken for the other race.

“S-Sorry...” I said. “You are?”

“Pardon me. I am Sandria the slave.”

“Okay. San, then,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Huh? ...Er, right.”

San took the hand I offered her, her eyes wide. I didn’t know what she was so surprised about, but it seemed like she could explain the dour mood here to me.

“San, why is everyone frightened?” I asked.

“Because your grandfather has passed away, Shopmaster,” she said.

“Even though you’re slaves, you’re sad that Grandpa died?” I asked.

“That’s because, compared to other slave traders, your grandfather treated his slaves well.”

According to San, the treatment of slaves differed from trader to trader.

Technically, because the system of economic slaves was in part a system of social welfare to at least keep people from dying, violence and sexual abuse were forbidden. (Though some slaves included the option of sex in order to sell themselves for more than double the price.) However, when it came to how far those rules were respected, or if they were respected at all, that depended largely on the state of public order in the area and their owner’s morals.

For instance, if a female slave was raped by her master, even if she lodged a complaint over it, and even if that noble were punished, because that woman would have no assets, she would ultimately just end up back at the slave trader waiting to be purchased again. That being the case, the woman might think it better to silently endure it. (Unless her life were in danger; that would be another matter entirely.)

In the case of male slaves, they were mostly purchased to be used as manual labor. Even if they were worked until they collapsed, it would be difficult to prove that that was a case of abuse.

In the world of slaves, that sort of darkness ran rampant. The slave traders themselves also came in many shapes and sizes.

Some treated their slaves like animals, not feeding them decent food. They permitted them to wear nothing more than their collars, and on cold nights, they wouldn’t give them even a scrap of cloth as a blanket. Even if their slaves fell sick, they would let the sickness run its course. They had exclusive contracts with nobles with certain proclivities, and no one knew what happened to the women they sent them...

The list went on.

It seemed there were still a large number of slave traders with those sorts of dark rumors swirling around them. It seemed the new king had been alarmed by the current situation, and a number of them had been apprehended, but some were still out there in the rural areas and in the dark places in the cities.

Compared to that, Grandpa had apparently treated his slaves well. They were given clothes to wear, even if the clothes were shabby, and they were fed properly. He didn’t abuse them, and if they fell ill, he looked after them. He also didn’t sell them off to any overly strange customers. It seems he was a decent slave trader.

It seemed Grandpa hadn’t wanted me to find out he was in this line of business, but it wasn’t that far away from the gentle image I’d had of my grandfather, so I was honestly relieved.

“But from everything I’ve heard so far, you had no reason to like him, either, did you?” I asked.

“What he did was good enough for us slaves,” said San. “Because, at the very least, we didn’t have to worry about anything strange and untoward happening to us. However, now, we can no longer be so sure of that.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Your grandfather said when he was alive that you were unlikely to take over this business, Shopmaster. That this work would be too hard for his timid, much-too-kind grandson.”

Ah... So that was why he never told me, I thought. He probably kept it a secret because he thought the knowledge would eat away at me.

San continued. “However, if you choose not to take over the business, we will all be sold off to other slave traders. There is no trader who could afford to buy all of us at once. We would all be split up. There are slaves among us who are married, or are sisters, but there would be no consideration shown for that. In fact, there is no guarantee that the slave traders who would receive us would be decent like your grandfather was.”

“That’s...”

“Furthermore, there are those with young children among us. The present king, His Majesty King Souma, has forbidden the ownership of slaves under the age of twelve. As such, those children are not slaves, but if the buyers say they only want the parents, those children will be left in an orphanage. This is why we are all sad for the death of your grandfather.”

That made sense. They weren’t sad about Grandpa’s death itself, but for the situation it had left them all in... That was likely it.

I wasn’t a slave. So I couldn’t understand their suffering. Still, not being able to envision a bright future for themselves was, probably, even harder than I’d imagined.

While I was still at a loss for words, San handed me something.

It was a riding crop. While I was wondering why she would give me such a thing, San turned her back to me and suddenly began to take off her clothes. Then, having stripped down to only a single pair of underwear (her top was completely naked), and covering her front with the clothes she had been wearing, she knelt as if in penance. Her smooth back and fluffy tail were exposed to my eyes.

“Wait, San?! What are you doing?!” I shouted.

“I have spoken above my station as a slave. I want you to punish me.”

“But why?!”

“Voicing an opinion to the shopmaster is something no slave should ever do,” San explained. “Even if you were to kill me, or torture me, or sell me to the worst kind of owner for it, I would be in no position to complain. I do not want that. Once you have whipped me in front of everyone, I beg you, please, forgive me.”

“No, that’s not...”

“It will be fine,” San said. “That whip is of a special make. It causes intense pain without wounding the place where it strikes. You will not be lowering my value as merchandise.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” I threw the whip to the ground, walked around in front of San, then crouched down to look her in the eye. “Are you some kind of pervert that gets off on being hit, San?”

“...I don’t think of myself as one, at least,” she said.

“Then why did you say that when you knew you might get hit for it?”

When I asked that in as calm a tone as I could manage, San lowered her face. Her bangs fell to cover her face, so I couldn’t see her expression, but there were sobs as she spoke.

“So that even if you do close this store... you might pay the slightest bit of concern to our situations... At the very least, you might look for buyers who will let the families... stay together...”

“Do you have family here, San?” I asked gently.

San shook her head.

She did that even though she didn’t have any herself...

I looked around at each of the slaves.

There was a woman who was squeezing her child to her breast, looking at me with uncertainty.

There were a pair of two slave girls, both around seventeen years old, who looked like sisters and were holding hands. One girl was quiet, but she seemed to have a mental fortitude (the elder sister?). The other one was trying to act tough, but looked shaken by uncertainty (the little sister?). The quiet girl was holding the other one tightly and trying to reassure her.

Had San put herself in danger for them?

“You take good care of your own, don’t you, San?” I asked.

She said nothing.

“Could you put your clothes back on for now?”

“But...!”

“It’s fine,” I said forcefully.

San reluctantly put her clothes back on. As she did, I noticed something shapely and jiggling for a second, but I looked away with all the strength I had.

Once San had calmed down, I spoke to all of the slaves. “I see your situation. That said, I have no intention of taking over this business. I could never be a slave trader. It just wouldn’t work.”

San said nothing.

“However, I think I will keep this business going until all of you are sold. Of course, I have no intention of selling you to any strange buyers. I will take responsibility for investigating them carefully. As far as I can manage, I’ll look for buyers that will allow families to stay together.”

If I had been rich, I could have closed up shop and released all of them. But, in my current state, I didn’t have the power to. Still, I wanted to do what I could. While the slaves’ faces filled with relief after they heard me speak, I smiled to San who was still in a daze.

“This is the best I can do. Is it good enough?”

“...More than,” she said. “You are too kind for your own good, Shopmaster.”

“Could you not call me that? I’m Ginger Camus.”

“Understood, Master Ginger.”

And so, I gave San a firm handshake.

“Hey there, mister!” one merchant said. “That’s one fine slave you’ve got servin’ ya.”

“How much’d she cost ya? You a rich kid from a good family or somethin’?”

“Um... er... Thanks...”

While politely brushing off the people who addressed me in merchant slang, San and I walked down a shopping street in the capital at midday, carrying bags with us. The bags contained mostly food and soap, along with new cloth to make simple garments. I’m sure you could figure this out without me saying so, but almost all of it was for the slaves.

“Well, we managed to get our hands on a nice amount of quality cloth,” I said. “That store, The Silver Deer, was good. The shopkeeper was a real dandy, and when he heard we would be using the material to make new clothes for slaves, he sold us a whole lot of it for cheap without looking the slightest bit unhappy about it.”

“How very nice for you,” she said.

“Ah...! Sorry, San. For making you tag along and carry stuff for me.”

“You needn’t show such concern for a slave,” San said nonchalantly. “Order me to do whatever you wish.”

She was a little taller than I was, and the way she looked walking with her back straight, she had such dignity that you never would have taken her for a slave. Maybe she had come from a good upbringing?

“But, still, these are stores, what’s with them having no shopkeepers other than slaves?” I asked.

“For as long as they wear their collars, slaves are absolutely loyal,” San explained. “It is possible to put them to work, too, so I think this is normal.”

“Oh, I see.”

“More importantly... why do you go to the trouble of feeding your slaves well and giving them new clothing when you intend to let go of them, Master Ginger?” asked San.

I asked, “Clean things or dirty things, which do you think people will take better care of?”

“That would be... the clean things, I think...”

“Right. It’s the same idea here.”

It felt a little wrong to speak of people like things, but slaves were always treated like things. That being the case, I wanted to make them things that people would treat well. I was well aware of how hypocritical that was, but it was all I could do right now.

“Slaves that are clean, of good pallor, and well dressed appear more valuable,” I said. “I think it’ll help keep away the buyers who just want to use them as disposable labor.”

“Being able to sell the merchandise is the most important thing in business,” said San. “I am not sure if you have the right approach to this as a seller.”

“That’s why I told you I’m not cut out to be a slave trader, okay?”

“Aren’t you? I think you might make a surprisingly good slave trader.”

“That’s the exact opposite of what you were saying just a moment ago, you know?!”

“It is just the mindless prattle of a slave. Pay it no mind.” San smiled mischievously. Urkh, she was definitely messing with me. “If I have angered you, then use the whip...”

“I’m not going to hit you, okay?!”

“But, if you do it just once, you might awaken to something inside you?”

“I don’t want to awaken anything! You’re sure you’re not one of those perverts who gets off on being hit, right?”

“Perhaps that is just a question of who is whipping me?” she asked.

“Huh?! What’s that supposed to...”

“Hee hee. It was a joke.” San gave me a cheerful smile, then walked off briskly, leaving me in the dust.

For a moment, I stood there dumbfounded before I hurriedly collected my wits and followed after her.

It made you question who was the possession and who was the owner here...

—Some days later.

“Okay, everyone,” I said. “Let’s move on to the three times table. Three, go!”

“One three is three, two threes are six, three threes are nine...” At my instruction, the slaves began to sing out their three times table.

Next to them, another group of slaves were practicing their writing, using water to wet a slate. Paper and ink were expensive, so that was what we were using as a substitute.

I wanted to have them available, but... I really didn’t have that much financial leeway, after all...

“What are you doing this time?” San asked, sounding exasperated. She’d just returned from the errand I’d sent her on.

“Hm? I thought I’d teach everyone to write and do arithmetic,” I said.

“...Why?”

“I did some thinking. When it comes to tools, those with some added functionality are better taken care of, right? Well, what sort of added functionality can you give humans, I wondered, and the answer I came up with was, ‘Education, maybe?’”

The sad truth was, many people only thought of slaves as a cheap source of labor, meant to be used until they broke and then thrown away.

True, that was an extreme position, but it was also true that for ordinary slaves, hard manual labor was about the only use for them. Now, what about a slave that knew how to write and do arithmetic? If a slave could read, write, and do arithmetic, wouldn’t that make them too valuable to waste as disposable manual labor?

The fact of the matter was, those with such skills who fell to become slaves, they sold at a higher price, and they were used in a wider variety of ways than slaves that were only capable of manual labor. They served as shopkeepers, and were even sometimes hired as servants and secretaries to the nobility.

You might think, “Well, we should teach all slaves to read and write, then,” but that would be inefficient. It took time to educate slaves, which meant they’d cost that much more in upkeep. Besides, most of the people who visited slave traders were looking for manual laborers. There were a limited number who would buy educated slaves. If too many were available, they would go unsold, and if the slave trader became forced to sell them as cheaply as manual laborers, it would defeat the point. This was, ultimately, a business, after all.

Still, that wasn’t something that was a concern for me right now. I had no intention of continuing with this work.

Even if I had to pour some of the savings my grandpa had left me into it, I was fine with that so long as I could arrange for the people here to pass into the hands of as reasonably good buyers as I could manage. Even if I didn’t turn a profit, I would actively work to sell them to buyers I thought would be good, and once I had seen everyone off to their various fates, I would close up shop. I thought of it as a way of paying my respects to Grandpa.

“That’s how Grandpa taught me, and I’ve learned enough that I can teach the same to everyone,” I said. “Would you like me to teach you, too, San?”

“I will be fine without,” San said. “I came from a family of merchants, so I can read and do arithmetic.”

A family of merchants? How had she ended up a slave, then...?

“Um... Do you mind if I ask?” I ventured.

“It isn’t a terribly interesting story. The owner of a store who was swindled by others found himself needing to sell off one of his daughters in order to protect his store and family. That’s all there was to it.”

“What do you mean, that’s all...?”

“It is a common story,” said San. “The kind of misfortune... you could find anywhere.”

No matter how prosperous the country, no matter how good its governance and public order, the malice of people will never go away. No shortage of these things will happen. I just happened to be the one to fall into it, San’s cold eyes told me. It was as if she had given up on everything.

“Well, it is an ability I am lucky to have, so allow me to teach them with you,” San said.

“...Please do.”

It might be difficult for a slave, but I want San to have hope, too, I thought earnestly, watching her teaching a young slave boy to read.

Months later, my sales weren’t exactly booming. Or rather, I hadn’t sold a single one.

Ha ha ha... What to make of this...?

While I was sitting at the counter clutching my head, San brought out some tea for me and asked, “I believe there were customers. Why did you not sell to them?”

Yes, it was true, a number of customers had come saying they wanted to buy slaves. However, from what I’d seen in my interviews with them, none of them were the sorts I could ever bring myself to sell to.

“If I have confidence in one thing, it’s my ability to see through people,” I explained.

“They were not up to your standards, then, Master Ginger?”

“Every single one of them only looked at slaves as tools to be used and then thrown away,” I said. “No matter how gentlemanly they might have acted. It’s not that easy to hide the dirty parts of your heart, though.”

“Is that right...?” San asked.

“I did promise everyone I would find them trustworthy buyers, after all. I have to select them carefully.”

“If you keep saying that, you may find yourself in financial distress and eventually slavery yourself, you know?” San asked.

“That’d be a problem, but... Long ago, Grandpa said this about business: ‘Every lull comes to an end, and the tides can suddenly change. That’s why you need to wait for your chance without giving up, and when the opportunity comes, grasp it without fail.’”

So, for now, no matter how hard it is, I will persevere. So I don’t miss the chance that will surely come someday.

While I was thinking that, San smiled despite herself. “It’s strange... When I am with you, Master Ginger, even though I am a slave, it almost gives me hope for the future.”

It was a soft smile. For that smile, I felt like I could push myself a little longer.

It’ll be fine. A chance is sure to come along eventually. Probably... Yeah... I’m sure of it!

That was what I told myself as I continued to wait. And then...

...the chance suddenly came not long after that.

One morning, when I opened the store, the same as I always did...

“Excuse me! Are there any slaves here who can read or write?!”

“I need them urgently! I’ll buy them for a good price, so let me have them!”

“Me, too! If you have any demands, just let me hear them!”

...a great mass of people suddenly swarmed inside the shop. They were all relatively well-dressed and well-kept, too. Many were there at the behest of their masters, but others were nobles or knights here to buy for themselves. Both San and I were flabbergasted.

“Erm... All of our slaves can write and do arithmetic, actually...” I said.

“Is that true?!”

“Please! Oh, please! Allow me to buy them off of you!”

“I was here first! Our domain is in trouble!”

“C-Calm down, please! What exactly is the situation here?!” I cried.

I had San and the others prepare enough tea for everyone, then asked the customers to explain what was going on.

It seemed that it had all started when our young sovereign, His Majesty King Souma, had changed his policy on how nobles and knights were to be evaluated. His achievements in the time since the former king abdicated had been exemplary. He had put down the three dukes who opposed him, defeated the Principality of Amidonia which had attacked us, and just the other day annexed them. At this point, his position in power was secure.

It seemed that the king had suddenly said, “Starting now, I will be adding the ability to manage your domain to the list of factors considered when deciding promotions and demotions for the nobility and knights, so good luck with that.” (Though I doubt he’d said it quite so frankly.)

The ones who were panicking were the nobles and knights who hadn’t given much thought to their own lands, leaving the ruling of them to magistrates instead. The bureaucratic nobles who had come to work in the city had seen participating in the affairs of state their path to advancement, while the knights had believed distinguishing themselves on the battlefield would lead to promotions. That was why, now that they were going to be held to account for the management of their own domains, they’d hurriedly begun to search for talented magistrates and people to work under them.

The only things required of a rural bureaucrat were the ability to read and write and the ability to do arithmetic, but few in this country possessed both skills. Both required being taught, and those who had been taught (or rather, those who had needed to be taught) were concentrated at the top of the social structure. Merchants could probably do it, too, but they had their own businesses, so it wouldn’t be possible to hire them without paying compensation equivalent to their profits. In other words, there was a truly limited supply of people willing to become bureaucrats out in the rural areas.

Those who were low in social stature, but who had worked hard to study on their own because they’d believed it would surely be useful someday, had been the first to be called on. However, these people had all been hired by the nobles and knights able to offer the most favorable conditions. The ones in trouble were the lower-ranked nobles and knights.

They wanted people, but they couldn’t offer conditions that were good enough to attract them. The last thread of hope they had to cling to was slaves.

Come to think of it, slaves come from all walks of life, I thought. Slaves who can write and do arithmetic cost more, but some have been sold.

It seemed that the nobles who had that thought were all rushing to the slave traders. The slaves who could write and do arithmetic at the major slave traders had sold out immediately, and now they were going around to the medium to small scale slave traders. That was how they had come to our shop.

“Okay... I understand the situation,” I said. “I have a number of conditions to consider, so I will hold interviews.”

And so, I interviewed each of the prospective buyers one by one.

Rather than focus on the purchase price, I was concerned with how the slaves would be treated afterwards. There were quite a few who said, “I want to employ them as bureaucrats, so I’m willing to release them from slavery.” Those people were given preference when I set them up with slaves. I didn’t sell to those I could see clearly had ill intent, and decided to keep relatives together as much as possible.

For the mother with the infant...

“I’ll release her from slavery! The child can come, too! So, please, I’m begging you, have her come to my domain!”

...is what one female knight begged me, half-crying, so I let her buy them. She had apparently become a knight because she’d admired the gallant Princess Liscia, but her abilities were completely biased toward the martial side of things, and she had no idea how to manage her domain. That was why she was in a desperate hurry to find good help. She seemed like a good sort, and I figured they’d be fine with her.

The slaves kept getting sold off one after another like that, but... the ones that really surprised me were those two sister slaves.

It seemed one young noble was so enamored with them, he would not only set them free, but also wanted to take them as his wives. What was more, this noble was apparently from a fairly major family.

“Were you not here to look for potential magistrates and bureaucrats?” I asked.

“Of course that was my original intent, but I was smitten by their beauty and intellect,” said the noble. “My house is presently in a situation where it is best that we do not form blood ties with other houses. I am sure that it would reassure His Majesty if I were to take a wife of common birth. Besides, when I think of the posting that awaits me, I cannot say that I see the daughters of any other house wanting to wed me.”

That noble’s name was Piltory Saracen. He was apparently the young head of a fairly major lineage in this country, the House of Saracen. He was passionate, and seemed to be every bit the affable young man he looked like.

Why does a man of his stature want slaves? I wondered. Probably, his situation and post had something to do with it.

“Um, I can’t have you take them anywhere too dangerous...” I began.

“I want to assure you, I simply have to leave the country for a short time,” he said. “If they are to be my wives, I swear I will defend them with my very life. Let me pledge here and now that they shall never perish before I myself do!”

“U-Uh... For now, let’s hear what the two of them have to say about it.”

I found myself overwhelmed by his passion and allowed Sir Piltory to meet with the sisters. It turned out, the sisters were quite fond of the young man, too. He was handsome, affable, and rich, all of which made him a real catch, but it seemed the clincher was that the two of them would be able to stay together. They were a little worried that Sir Piltory’s posting was going to be in a foreign country, the Gran Chaos Empire, but the two still decided to go with him.

Well, I can tell he’s definitely a good guy, so if the two of them are all right with it, I guess I am, too, I thought.

After that, even though I put some serious conditions on their treatment of the slaves, buyers came in every day, and within a few days, the only one left with me was San.

The reason San had been left for last was because she was helping me. It had been too much for me to handle all of those people by myself, and San had been a tremendous help to me.

Of course, with her beauty and shapely figure, there had been many buyers who’d wanted to buy her under conditions no less good than the sisters Anzu and Shiho had received. However, San herself said, “I will stay to help you until all of the others have been bought, Master Ginger.” So I’d indulged in her kind generosity.

We were in the shop before opening. While sitting at the counter, I looked to San who was beside me offering me tea.

“San, you...”

“What is it, Master Ginger?” she asked.

“Um... Well... It’s nothing...”

“Hm?”

San had worked hard for the slaves, and for me. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t felt something when I’d seen her doing that.

Fortunately, everyone had been bought, and thanks to the nobles, I had some financial leeway for the time being. If I were to release San from slavery, we could start a new business together. I had started to wonder about the possibilities.

But... I’m sure someone better will come along for San, I thought. There’s no guarantee that my new business will succeed, and maybe San would be happier that way, too.

While I was thinking about it, the door that I was sure I had a “Closed” sign on it opened. When I looked up, wondering what it could be, there was a single young man there.

“I have a request,” the young man said. “Could I ask you sell that slave to me?”

The young man was dressed like a traveler from another country. He wore a conical straw hat low over his forehead, as well as a traveling cloak. The way he looked... Was he from the Nine-Headed Dragon Archipelago, perhaps?

“Um, we aren’t open for business yet...” I said.

“I apologize,” said the young man. “I was charmed when I saw that raccoon girl, and I simply couldn’t help myself. Is there any way you could give me that slave? Of course, I intend to pay well more than she’s worth. Once I’ve bought her, I will also set her free.”

“How much would you be paying, exactly?” San asked.

“San?!” I exclaimed.

While I was still surprised that San was trying to move things forward on her own, she gave me a grin. “You did well for all of the other slaves, Master Ginger. I am the only one left. That being the case, as one last service, I will sell myself for a high price, and give you the extra money. Please, use it to start your new business.”

“What are you saying?!”

Had San been thinking about that all along?

The young, foreign man dropped a small bag of coins on the table. “In this bag there are ten large gold coins and fifty gold coins. Will this price be acceptable?”

Ten large gold coins and fifty gold coin was... 1,000,000G?! The average slave went for 10,000G to 20,000G. Could he just plop down that kind of money?!

This young man... there’s something strange about him...

He was acting like rich men often did, using the power of their money to get their way, but I didn’t get that same unpleasant feeling from the young man in front of me. Unlike Sir Piltory, who had taken the two sisters, it didn’t feel like he was in love with San, either. If anything... I felt as though his attention was focused on me. Like he was watching to see what I would do when presented with a large amount of money...

While I was eyeing him cautiously, San bowed her head to the young man.

“It is enough. Please, take me.”

“I told you, don’t decide that for yourself!” I stood up and placed myself between them, picking up the bag of coins and thrusting it back toward the man. “I’m terribly sorry, but she’s not for sale. When I start my new business, I want her there to work for me.”

“Master Ginger...”

San’s eyes were wide with surprise. This was... my selfishness.

“I’m sorry, San,” I said. “It may be better for you to be bought by this person. He clearly has considerable finances, and I can’t guarantee my business will succeed.”

But, I couldn’t do it. When San was... about to be stolen away from me, I finally realized it. How strongly I felt that I didn’t want to lose her.

“But, out of my own selfishness, I don’t want to let go of you,” I said.

“Master Ginger... I acted presumptuously...” San teared up as she said that. Then she walked over to me and bowed her head. “Please... Let me stay at your side, Master Ginger...”

“Yes. Of course I will.” I gently embraced San.

After doing that for a little while, I recalled that we were completely ignoring the young, foreign customer. When I looked at him, the young man had an awkward, forced smile on his face.

I let go of San and bowed to the young man. “I-I’m sorry!”

“No, uh... I was wrong, too,” he said. “I had just meant to test you, but I didn’t expect you two to suddenly start confessing your love for one another... Uh, congratulations.”

“Th-Thank you... very much,” I stumbled.

H-How embarrassing. Just remembering that whole sequence of events made my face feel like it was on fire.

...Wait, huh? Testing me? Had this guy just said he was testing me?

Out from behind the young man, an adorable girl in a hooded robe who wore her hair in bunches entered the shop. That girl came up beside the young man with a cheery smile on her face.

“See? He’s an interestin’ slave trader, just like Sebastian said, huh?”

“You can say that again,” said the young man. “I doubt there’s another like him anywhere in this world. I guess, as the saying goes, it’s always darkest under the lamppost. Who would have thought there was still a talented person like this hidden in the royal capital. This is why I can never get tired of head-hunting.”

Then the young man removed his hat. That face... I had seen it on the Jewel Voice Broadcast!

“Y-Your Majesty?!” I yelped.

There stood His Majesty, Souma Kazuya.

What was more, the girl standing next to him was Princess Roroa of the former Principality of Amidonia, whose betrothal to King Souma had been announced during the Jewel Voice Broadcast earlier! San and I hastened to bow before them, but His Majesty said, “Ah, I’m here in secret right now, so none of that,” and stopped us.

“Um... Sire... What are you doing here?” I asked, my head still a mess of confusion.

Souma grinned. “I’ve heard good things about you. Like that you taught slaves how to write and do arithmetic, and arranged for them to be bought by places that would treat them well. From now on, slave traders around the capital will start imitating you and educating their slaves. It seems the treatment slaves receive has gotten better, too.”

“I-I see...”

“From the looks of it, you don’t realize your own incredible accomplishment,” he continued. “Well, maybe you were able to pull it off precisely because you’re that humble.”

King Souma nodded to himself, seeming satisfied with that explanation.

“Ginger. You tried to improve the treatment of those in the weakest position in society by giving them jobs. As a result, those slaves are slaves no more. This is something that people at the top, like Madam Maria and I, couldn’t have accomplished so easily, even though we wanted to, you know? Yet you, out here in the field, pulled it off.”

“No... I was just... I was desperate to protect those in front of me, even if that was all I could do...”

“I’ve been looking for people who can do things like that.” His Majesty put his hands down on the counter. “I intend to nationalize the slaving trade in this country. Slave traders will become public servants, and there will be proper tests they have to go through. That will make them easier to manage, after all. On top of that, to ensure that the slaves aren’t just used as manual labor until it breaks them and then thrown away, we will also establish facilities to train them for jobs. At the same time, I also intend to create an intermediary service to help people find jobs so they won’t be reduced to slavery in the first place.”

“That’s...”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s exactly the same as what you’ve been doing. That’s what the country is going to do.”

That’s incredible! Doing that will surely save people like San! I thought.

While I was thinking that, Souma extended his hand to me. “And I want to hire you as the first head of the jobs training facility.”

“M-Me?!” I yelped.

“You came up with the idea and implemented it yourself,” he said. “I think you’re the best person for the job. You can take that money I showed you earlier to help with the preparations. Why don’t you use that money to set her free and start working on it together?”

I looked over to San.

San nodded to me with a smile, then spoke these words: “‘Every lull comes to an end, and the tides can suddenly change.’”

...Yeah. That’s right, San, Grandpa. This is that opportunity.

I nodded back to San, then took the hand Souma had offered me. “I’ll do it! Please, let me!”

“Thanks. I’ll be looking forward to seeing your skills in action.”

We exchanged a firm handshake. The contract was sealed.

Grandpa, I’m going to be serving the king now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, okay?

While closing my eyes and reporting this to my grandpa, who had surely gone to heaven, Lady Roroa said, “Looks like ya got that all settled then,” and wrapped herself around Souma’s arm. “Well, let’s leave it at that for work today. For here on, I’m thinkin’ it’s time we had our date, ain’t it? Right, Big Sister Ai?”

When Lady Roroa called out toward the door, a strong and beautiful dark elf woman came inside. Wasn’t this person the second candidate to become King Souma’s queen, Lady Aisha?! I remembered having seen her host the music program alongside King Souma before!

Lady Aisha seemed slightly embarrassed, but she wrapped herself around the arm opposite Lady Roroa. “Wh-Why, yes. We should do that.”

“Um, you two? Could you not do this in public...” the king said.

““No!””

“...Oh, okay.”

When they both shouted him down, Souma slumped his shoulders in resignation.

At first glance, he looked like he should be happy with a beautiful flower in each hand, yet he was clearly feeling anxious. He might be the capable king who had destroyed the Principality of Amidonia, but he was weak when it came to the women who would be the significant others in his life.

“Maybe I should watch out, too...” I murmured.

“Did you say something, Master Ginger?” Perhaps imitating those two, San wrapped herself around my arm with a smile.

That smile left me feeling fulfilled, and there was nothing I could say.

—It seemed that being no match for the woman you love was something that affected king and commoner alike.