"Lloyd di Saloom, reporting as requested."
One day, I was summoned and made my way to the Throne Room.
The one who had called for me was the King of Saloom and my father, Charles di Saloom.
A large elderly man sitting upon the throne—Charles welcomed me with a broad smile.
"Oh, you have come, Lloyd. It has been a long time. About three years, has it not?"
"Yes. Not since my seventh birthday."
Since many children died of illness or injury before reaching the age of seven, that particular birthday carried a special significance. Even the busy Charles had made time to see me back then.
However, the words he had for me at the time were: "Since you are the seventh son and far removed in age, you have nothing to do with the succession struggle. Do as you please without feeling pressured."
He was surely quite busy as the King; I usually only saw him from a distance as he walked through the corridors. So, what business could he possibly have with me now? The uncertainty made me nervous.
As I remained there with my head bowed, Charles spoke, sounding a bit weary.
"Hmm. Come to think of it, you were just like this the last time we met. So stiff, or perhaps just not very childlike... You know, you are allowed to give your father a hug after we have been apart for so long."
"...You jest, Father. I could never dream of such a thing."
"Hmph, very well. I suppose it is merely proof that you have learned your etiquette. Here, come a little closer."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
At the very least, he didn't seem to be in a bad mood, nor did it feel like I was about to be scolded. I stood up and approached him as instructed.
Charles stared intently at my face, then gave a slow, satisfied nod.
"...Ho, your face has taken on a fine look."
"Thank you very much."
"I have heard from Sylpha and Albert. It seems you have been working quite hard at both swordsmanship and magic."
"Oh! N-No! You flatter me...!"
I hurriedly lowered my head at Charles's words.
"There is no need for such modesty! Sylpha, who hammered swordsmanship into my other sons, has given you her seal of approval! She says your talent for the sword is the greatest of any prince in history and that you will become the finest swordsman in the kingdom! Even Albert, who is one of the most prominent mages in the castle, was jealous of your talent! He said that when he was your age, he could not even fire a Fireball properly, yet you control yours masterfully! To be praised to such an extent by those two young elites... It is a magnificent feat!"
Charles crossed his arms and nodded contentedly.
...Oh boy, so those two had been saying things like that?
I thought I was doing a good job of hiding my true strength, but it seemed I was still being too careless. As I suspected, practicing magic inside the castle was dangerous. If my reputation grew too much, I might get dragged into the succession struggle, which would be a massive pain.
I needed to exercise more self-restraint. But knowing my personality, I wouldn't be able to stop my magic research...
"I have great expectations for you! Continue to devote yourself!"
"Uh... yes, well..."
Seeing me give such a non-committal answer, Charles's expression clouded over.
"...However, Lloyd, no matter how excellent you are, it would be difficult to add you as a Succession Candidate at this stage. The older princes, including Albert, have already been receiving specialized education for years. ...It pains my heart to think you might be working so hard with that goal in mind. I summoned you today because I wanted to tell you this personally."
—Ah, so that was it.
In other words, Charles was under the impression that I was working hard specifically to inherit the throne. Of course, I didn't have the slightest intention of doing so, so I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"Please do not let it trouble you, Father. Just as I was told, I am simply doing what I enjoy. I have had no interest in the Right of Succession from the very beginning."
Charles's eyes widened at my words. Then, he narrowed his eyes as if overcome with emotion.
"—Umu, umu. You did not grow bitter at my words, but spoke with such grace! I am truly happy to have such a fine son!"
He even looked like he was tearing up a bit.
...I was being completely sincere, though.
As I watched the moved Charles, I awkwardly scratched my cheek.
"Rest easy, Lloyd! That effort will surely never go to waste! So, continue to forge ahead just as you have been!"
"Y-Yes..."
"Umu. You may step down."
I didn't quite understand it all, but for now, it seemed I could maintain my current lifestyle, which was a relief. I breathed a sigh of private comfort and turned to leave.
"...And yet, to show no interest in the throne while simply piling effort upon effort... To be so composed at only ten years old. My, my, perhaps that is exactly what a true king should be. It may be that I must reconsider the list of Succession Candidates."
Charles was muttering something, but I couldn't quite hear him. It was likely just more political nonsense. Sorry, but I have zero interest in that. More importantly, I wanted to get back to my books as quickly as possible. I made a swift exit from the Throne Room.