Little Pink Starfish

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Suppressing his irritation, King Augustin returned to his chambers and sat down heavily in his chair.

After dismissing the swarming attendants, he closed his eyes in thought.

“…To have no cruelty whatsoever is also a problem… He was never fit to be king in the first place.”

He spoke as if convincing himself, as if he didn’t, doubt would creep into his decision.

Pressing his fingers against his temple, he leaned back and exhaled slowly, gripping the chain around his neck.

“…Truly, foolish. That man… and myself as well.”

The anger in his chest was not directed at Asher.

It was directed at the man who had tormented his child—and at himself, for trusting that man as a tutor.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when a sudden knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“…Enter.”

The door opened slowly, revealing Samuel.

As always, he carried a composed smile and bowed gracefully before his father.

“Excuse me, Father.”
“…Samuel.”
“The prisoners have all been moved to the dungeons. I have given orders for their immediate transport to the border at dawn. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, do so.”
“And what shall be done with Rashad Yuan Clark’s head? Shall we put it on display?”
“…I don’t even want to look at it. Dispose of it immediately.”
“As you wish.”

A brief silence fell.

“…What is it? Do you have something else to say?”

Noticing that Samuel remained standing silently, King Augustin finally looked up at him for the first time since he entered.

The silver hair and golden eyes—Samuel was the spitting image of himself in his youth.

“Father, at the time, I was thinking about what would happen after executing the beast bandits… But it turns out I had nothing to worry about.”
“…What are you implying?”
“If we had gone through with their execution, an uprising would have been inevitable.”

Samuel chuckled softly, deepening his smile.

He had seen it—the way the beastmen had reacted to Asher’s words.

And not just the captured criminals, but even the beastmen among the citizens of Dias.

The same people who had, just moments ago, been directing hatred at the beastman criminals no longer harbored that same resentment.

Among them, even many humans wore conflicted expressions, sympathizing with Asher.

If Samuel had noticed this, then surely King Augustin had as well.

“A king who overturns a decision too easily risks undermining the royal family’s authority. So naturally, I assumed you would proceed with the execution… But you did not, Father.”
“A fool declared himself guilty as well. I simply granted him the punishment he asked for.”
“…Had you executed them, Asher’s position would have become even worse.”

──He was manipulated.

But that meant nothing to the people.

What the people wanted from their rulers was someone who would protect them, ensure they would not starve, and maintain peace.

Had the beastmen all been executed, Asher would have gone down in history as the foolish prince who was manipulated into driving the pitiful beastmen to their deaths.

And no prince with such a reputation could ever become king.

“Asher’s claim to the throne is meaningless now… In that case, there was no harm in publicly slapping him and stripping him of his inheritance. Poor Asher, struck in the face, pleading for the lives of the beastmen to the very end… He must have won the people’s hearts.”
“…What are you getting at?”

King Augustin averted his gaze, stroking his beard.

“…”
“…Is there something else?”

Noticing Samuel still smiling at him in silence, King Augustin asked, growing impatient.

“At that moment… What did you say to Clark?”
“…”
“Even when I broke his arm, he remained unfazed, aggravating me to no end… I tormented him in many ways, yet… he never lost his composure. And yet, he unraveled so completely in front of you…”
“Ah. So that state he was in was your handiwork… No wonder.”

King Augustin let out a short laugh, but Samuel pressed further.

“What did you tell him?”

Samuel’s smile was gone.

King Augustin stared at him for a moment before slowly opening his hand.

Resting in his palm was a silver pendant.

“…It was Fred’s keepsake.”
“Mother’s…? Just showing him this—”

Samuel looked puzzled, but King Augustin removed the pendant from around his neck and handed it to him.

“Open it. The answer is inside.”
“Inside…?”

Following the instruction, Samuel flicked open the small clasp and looked inside.

“…In Fred’s homeland, there is a tradition of keeping a portrait of one’s beloved inside, carrying it at all times.”
“…A beloved?”
“He never loved me. Not even once. His heart never belonged to me.”

Standing, King Augustin reached for a nearby bottle of liquor and poured himself a drink.

He downed the glass in one go.

“That man only ever begged me for one thing in his life… Samuel, do you know what it was?”

Samuel did not answer.

Nor did King Augustin seem to expect one, as he simply poured himself another drink.

“If I must die, at least let me spend my final moments with the one I love.”

The sound of glass cracking echoed through the room.

The glass in King Augustin’s hand had shattered.

“…And you granted that wish, didn’t you?”

Samuel returned his gaze to the pendant, his fingers brushing over its surface.

Inside was a faded portrait of a young girl.

Though worn by time, the girl’s smiling face was still visible.

Long golden hair, bright blue eyes, a red dress—Samuel recognized her face.

Inside the lid of the pendant, an inscription was carved.

──My beloved Angela.

Marquis Clark had claimed to have seen a maid.

Now it was clear—he had seen Angela.

Samuel had always questioned it.

A foreign princess, from a distant land, unmarried—how could she have infiltrated Dias without assistance?

But if the king himself had aided her, it would have been simple.

“…Why did you go to such lengths to hide Queen Angela’s presence?”
“…”
“If you hadn’t, Clark wouldn’t have suspected her…”
“…If Angela had been formally recognized, her time with Fred would have been limited. But disguised as a maid, they could be together without interference.”

Samuel opened his mouth to respond but immediately closed it.

The expression on King Augustin’s face was one Samuel had never seen before—a look of pure agony.

But it lasted only a moment.

In an instant, the king broke into laughter, his voice ringing through the room.

“Truly, that man and I… We were both fools, loving the same man!”

King Augustin laughed loudly, but his final words were almost a whisper.

“…I did Asher a great disservice.”

He chuckled softly to himself.

“…If I had known this would happen…”

But he did not finish the thought.

Because even if he had known, he would never have been able to refuse Fred’s wish.

Even though Fred had never once looked at him with love—King Augustin had loved him above all else.

“…Clark hated Queen Angela, because of his love for Fred. And he tried to kill her son, Asher… So, what exactly did you tell him in the end?”
“…I simply told him the truth.”

No matter how many times Samuel asked after that, King Augustin never answered.

But he recalled it clearly—the moment he had whispered in Clark’s ear.

The man had frozen in place, not even breathing.

The realization of his mistake was written across his face.

Drawing close, King Augustin had whispered gently,

“In death, Fred must be watching from the other side… watching you try to kill Angela’s son over a foolish misunderstanding. He must be seething with rage, grieving… and cursing you, Clark. Even in death, Fred continues to suffer because of you.”

King Augustin recalled the look of despair on Clark’s face and let out a weary laugh.