Subaru wandered around in a corridor outside of the chamber, completely
rudderless.
He didn't remember much after he'd humiliated himself in front of Emilia and
a huge audience. All he remembered was that the captain of the knights had
permitted his departure and had left his fate to Emilia's judgment.
It would have been wrong to say he was there because he didn't want to
cause Emilia any more trouble. The reason he'd fled, even after he had gone
against her instructions to reach the palace in the first place, was far simpler.
—He couldn't bear Emilia's frigid eyes any longer.
Subaru was mentally berating himself as the guard who'd escorted him to the
castle's waiting room gave him a concerned look.
"Did something happen to you?"
He hadn't seen Subaru's humiliation because he'd been stationed outside the
huge double doors. Furthermore, his demeanor showed respect toward
someone he believed to be involved with one of the royal candidates.
"It's…nothing. Sorry for all the trouble in the middle of a really important job."
"I don't mind. Inside the throne room, they're deciding the future of the
entire nation. Even if I'm not qualified to be inside, I'm proud just to be on the
edges of it."
The irony of the words, spoken with a clear voice, left Subaru with an
uncomfortable awkwardness. Here was a guy full of pride for what he was
doing at the edges of the selection of the next king.
What of Subaru? Could anyone take pride in what he had done?
No one would. And the one person he had wanted to acknowledge his efforts
had rejected him.
"—"
Unable to stand still, Subaru shifted his gaze when he suddenly noticed a
ruckus at the end of the corridor. Just as he turned his head to look, a guard
popped in, apparently in a hurry.
"Pardon, open the way! We've captured an intruder. We need orders from
the captain!"
"Wait, they're still in the middle of the conference! Hold the intruder in the
barracks until…"
"The circumstances do not allow us to do that. Either way, we cannot make
this decision ourselves!!"
Ignoring the urgings of his comrade, the guard shouted back down to the
corridor. Several men were dragging forward the intruder that'd snuck into the
castle.
Subaru, wondering what was so bad they needed to interrupt the royal
selection, glanced at the intruder. Then…
Regret stronger than anything else that day struck Subaru Natsuki.
"—Ah?"
He stared dumbfounded as four men dragged the man along by his hands and
feet, desperately trying to move forward with a balding old man Subaru knew
well.
It was Old Man Rom, who had no business being there whatsoever.
"—"
He'd left a message at the fruit seller's place for him to wait. What was Old
Man Rom doing there—
Subaru's mind went blank, but then, for once, he instantly found the answer
to his question.
"W-wait… Don't tell me, he…"
He followed me. At first, Subaru doubted himself, but then certainty welled
within him.
If Old Man Rom had tried to sneak into the castle there and then, the trigger
could have been none other than the message Subaru had left at Cadmon. The
sharp old man had deduced that Subaru had reason to think Felt was at the
royal palace. And he'd tried to enter by any means necessary.
No doubt Old Man Rom's own clumsiness had led to his discovery and
capture. But Subaru was the one who'd brought that result about. Subaru knew
how precious Felt was to Old Man Rom. He should've known Rom might lose his
head over it…
"—!"
The guards passed before his eyes. By the time he reached out, Old Man Rom
was already too far away. Subaru froze in place, watching them go in silence.
If he spoke to the guards then and there, he could explain to them who Old
Man Rom was. But that also meant admitting that Subaru was connected to an
intruder who'd attempted illegal entry of the palace.
It wouldn't end just with Subaru. It would make him an even weightier ball
and chain on Emilia's ankle.
That was as far as he got before he did a mental double take.
When he considered the possibility he'd leave Old Man Rom to rot, using
Emilia as the reason why, he felt filthy.
"Hey, wait a…!"
Subaru called out to stop them, but a foul-mouthed shout buried his words.
Quietly, his eyes went wide as he realized the torrent of insults was coming at
him from Old Man Rom himself.
"Ha! You high-falutin' nobles have some awful taste! Is one bumbling old
captive something to stare at?! If you're going to laugh, laugh, you filthy-
minded youngin!"
Old Man Rom, watching Subaru holding his breath, made a disgusting grimace
with his bruised face.
"If you wanna stare, take a good, hard look at this dirty old man from the
slums!"
One of the guards, offended at the rude words from the intruder toward
Subaru, a VIP, swung his fist down in punishment.
"—Watch, your, tongue!"
"Ugh!"
Subaru countered, "Wait, please! There's no need to go that fa—"
Rom replied, "You are very kind, young one. Heeey, how about it, knights?
Your beloved master's giving you an order. Why don't you just wag your tails
and do what he sa—ugh!"
"Haven't you said enough, vagabond?!"
The knights responded to Old Man Rom's continued verbal abuse with even
harsher strikes than before.
For a moment, the boy's gaze met Rom's, and Subaru understood his intent.
—Even in that place, Old Man Rom was covering for him, because if Subaru
said too much, it would only put Subaru in a worse position.
"—Don't butt in, youngin."
The small, faint murmur was followed by insults like those from before for the
benefit of the guards. Subaru alone realized the true meaning of Rom's words.
And that sentence left a very deep scar in Subaru.
Subaru had reached out, only to have his hand rejected, his assistance
refused, just like in the chamber. No matter what he tried to do, the person
concerned didn't need, or want, his help.
"—"
Subaru fell into silence. The guards saluted, dragging Old Man Rom with them
once more. Their destination, the throne room, lay ahead. He wondered what
treatment Rom would receive at the site of the royal selection.
He shook his head, driving the images off. Rom had a much better chance at a
pardon without Subaru opening his big mouth. Besides, there were three
people present that knew him, with one practically a relative. Nothing bad was
likely to happen to him.
Probably nothing. Almost definitely nothing. His judgment shouldn't have
been wrong, but—
"What am I…doing this for…?"