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It was the morning of the next day.
Yesterday, Watanabe had suddenly dozed off and lost any sense of time. He had somehow managed to sleep for more than twenty hours.
I must’ve been really tired… I don’t think I want to save the world again if it’s gonna knock me out like this, thought Watanabe waking up in the guest room, without suspecting any foul play might have occurred yesterday.
Slowly regaining his consciousness, Watanabe finally noticed that two men were arguing outside of his room. He could barely hear them from inside.
“…ordered to not let him get out, and especially not let him go near His Holiness!” shouted one man that Watanabe recognized to be one of the guards that had escorted him yesterday.
Huh, if I’m supposed to be a foreign dignitary, why wouldn’t the chancellor want me meeting his boss? I suspect something fishy, thought Watanabe. The right-hand men of rulers, especially those pesky chancellors, almost always happen to be evil characters!
“Yes, but those are the orders of the chancellor. He is but the servant of His Holiness, who has ordered this man to be summoned to the audience chamber!” replied another man.
“Fine, I don’t want to go against His Holiness’ orders.” said the guard as he conceded.
Thankfully, the good king of this realm seems to have some sense. Maybe the chancellor and the ruler are in some sort of power struggle? Now that’d be interesting, further thought Watanabe.
Our hero heard the sound of a lock being unlocked before his door was opened. What he encountered was, unsurprisingly, yet another guard. “My lord, His Holiness summons you to the audience chamber.”
Watanabe pretended to not hear the previous conversation. He obliged and got out of bed, following the guard, who escorted our hero to the entrance of the audience chamber he had seen yesterday.
Seeing that there was nothing else that he could reasonably do, Watanabe had no choice but to enter the audience chamber. He went through the grand wooden door, passed through another indoor door that had guards stationed in front of it, and he finally found himself inside the audience chamber he had so much about yesterday.
The audience chamber was one befitting of the grand palace it resided in. The floors were made of marble that had carpets that had intricate patterns woven on them. The room was also decorated with many statues, drapes, and impressive patterns made with stucco engraved on the walls.
The only thing missing in the room was the big man himself, the Grand Preacher.
Watanabe looked around the room, trying to see if he had somehow managed to miss him in this massive room. He slowly walked to the end of the room, where he only found silk drapes forming a wall of sorts and two servants standing end-to-end of this wall.
Watanabe intended to ask these servants where their master was, though his plans were cut short when the servants pulled the drapes over, revealing a grand figure sitting on a throne that was befittingly grand.
So, he must be the head honcho of the Brassicans. He certainly looks the honchoest out of all the honchos I’ve ever seen, thought Watanabe seeing the bethroned man. Contrary to his expectations, the man in front of him was not an old man with whitened hair. Instead, he found a man, who while objectively only being slightly older than Watanabe, looked much older thanks to the magnificent beard he supported. His hair was as, if not more, magnificent as his beard, made up of chestnut locks that were actually just part of an incomprehensibly expensive big wig befitting a bigwig.
He sat on top of his throne, made of gold and decorated with silver, cushioned by green silk cushions. All of this combined to give the man in the throne an unmatched aura of grandeur and royal power the likes of which Watanabe had never seen from his former boss on Earth.
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Watanabe was completely in the dark about Lahanezite etiquette, so he did his best to replicate what he had seen in the few historical dramas that he had watched. He bowed and then prostrated, his head now touching the carpet. Since the man in front of him also seemed to have some religious title, Watanabe decided to also clasp his hands in prayer towards the Grand Preacher.
After a minute of being in this humiliating pose, Watanabe heard the voice that he had been waiting to hear. “That is enough. You may stand up.”
Watanabe’s policy of kowtowing (or, in his case, dogezaing) to authority figures seemed to work this time as well. He slowly stood up (to show further deference by not openly being eager to stand up) and faced the big cheese himself, His Holiness and Royal Majesty, By the Grace of Brassicus Prima King of the Lahanezites and Grand Preacher of All Brassicans, Righteous Protector and Overlord of Zelaya-Kapucz, Estland, Lutyvolvyia, New Cabbagelandiet, Doruflachiroum and the Verdavir, King of Northamber, King of the Fiyeletow, Sovereign of Tüygemshaw…
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(The next hundred words detailing the full title of the Grand Preacher were redacted at the behest of the author.)
…Heir of Erzen, Count of Bolecz and so forth, etc.
That is… a long title. Thankfully lèse-majesté laws don’t really work across interdimensional borders, so I’ll just be calling him Theodore from now on.
“I am most grateful to have the chance to see the hallowed visage of Your Holiness.” said Watanabe; he further intensified his metaphorical kowtowing.
“We are most pleased to see someone see the light of the true faith and travel so far to learn about it.” replied Theodore. “From your actions I can see that your devotion is true.”
“Indeed, my devotion is as true as… As true as the words of Holy Theodore, blessed be His name, himself!” replied Watanabe, recycling material from Anton’s sermon.
“We see, we see that you are a truly learned and pious individual, we are most pleased.” said the comparatively-less-holy-but-still-really-holy-compared-to-everyone-else Theodore in approval. “We’d have loved to see a man who has such erudite subjects, just imagine how erudite he himself would be!”
“Indeed, His Highness is the most learned man in the world, after Your Holiness of course.” replied Watanabe nodding in approval.
Alright, keep calm. Just imagine that he’s your former boss and not a man capable of lobbing off your head if he so wishes, thought Watanabe who was slightly stressed out in front of a sovereign ruler. That doesn’t work, thinking about my former boss only made it worse! Ahem, imagine he’s your current boss…
“So, this is the room of the macher? How brassily meretricious.”
…I think I’m imagining a bit too hard.
“Monsieur, you were he- Oh, Your Majesty!”
Watanabe turned around to see Rabanowicz performing a courteous curtsy towards Theodore. She isn’t just in my head?!
Theodore assumed a serious yet less formal tone. “Now that your companion is here, I think it’s time for some questions.”
What, what the hell?! The air in the room suddenly got much, much heavier, thought Watanabe in fear. He noticed that the door that led into the room was closed and guards were stationed to prevent them from even thinking to leave.
“Monsieur, you didn’t offend His Majesty while I was gone, did you?” asked Rabanowicz, who kept a deadpan expression on the outside but was full of fear in the inside.
“N- No. Um… I am Lord Watanabe of Nihon as I’ve previously stated Your Highness.” said Watanabe as he turned back to Theodore. “May Brassicus Prima smite me if I tell a lie!”
“Then I’ll be smiting you before Brassicus Prima has to bother to do so.” replied Theodore in a manner that scared Watanabe further. Our hero could only mumble some incoherent sounds in reply, and his face looked like a deer staring at the headlight of a truck.
Then, something odd happened.
Theodore cracked the loudest laugh Watanabe had ever heard. He had to take a few minutes to calm down. His serious expression and tone suddenly disappeared as they turned out to be a ruse for a royal prank. “Alright, that’s enough fun. If I actually suspected that you were spies then you’d be down in the dungeons, and believe me, the ones asking questions wouldn’t be as courteous.”
I’m beginning to dislike this guy, thought Watanabe. He relaxed after realizing that he was going to live another day. “Then-”
“Nor would I treat actual representatives like this.” interrupted Theodore. “Your entourage was too small, and your possessions too meager that it’s impossible for you to be sent by someone other than a backwater peasant. My chancellor suspected you to be a spy or an assassin, but you clearly lack the wits to dare infiltrate even a barn.”
Theodore took a small pause for dramatic effect. “Then, I ask of you, who are you? You are not here for diplomacy, you are not here for murder or spying, and your appearance is so unusual that it suggests that you come from very far away. Brassicus Prima commands us to be benevolent and give second chances, so here’s my deal: You satisfy my curiosity, and I do not exact the righteous punishment I should be exacting right about now.”
Which I’m guessing is death, thought Watanabe. Not dying in exchange for chatting with someone seems like a reasonable deal.
“Oh, would you like something to drink? It’d be rude for someone of my status not to offer anything to my guests.” said Theodore. He clapped and requested a table and stools to be brought over to the room. The servants quickly brought a table and three stools that looked way too plain to even deserve to be in the audience hall, along with a kettle of herbal tea and cups to drink the tea from.
Theodore took a sip from the cup after a servant filled it. “Now that our thirst is quenched...”
“Right, Your Holiness is not going to believe what I’m going to tell you but…” started Watanabe as he quickly recounted his adventures, from kicking the bucket, to being transported to Theodore’s realm, and then finding himself in a village (he embellished a few points there to seem as if he had actually had a religious epiphany and joined the Brassican faith willingly), to finally marching with Hans and ending up pretending to be a diplomat in Theodore’s court. Rabanowicz also recounted her side of the events too, starting with her hearing about Watanabe in the camp.
“Interesting, interesting…” commented Theodore as he took another sip from his cup. “What an unlikely turn of events.”
“Do- Do you actually believe it, Your Holiness?” asked Watanabe. I thought he’d need more convincing…
“If a woman can graduate from university, then a man can survive death and come to my court!” added Theodore laughing again.
I’m beginning to dislike this guy, thought Rabanowicz whose education was called into question, again. For the umpteenth time in her life.
“This kind of story is one that I don’t think you could make up. Everything that was reported to me about you does make sense if you take account the fact that you’ve been here for a couple of days.” continued Theodore. “If you’re still lying, then it’s an amusing enough lie that I’d be hesitant to dismiss it.”
“No, it’s the truth Your Holiness.” said Watanabe in response.
“It’s even more amusing if it’s the truth!” replied Theodore with another laugh. “Then, that’s all I want to personally ask you two for now. I’d like to invite you over for luncheon, my wife, along with Angio and Oleracea have been begging to see you.”
“If it isn’t rude to ask Your Holiness, who are Angio and Oleracea?” asked Watanabe.
“They are the crown prince and princess respectively, monsieur.” replied Rabanowicz. “I think it’d be rude to not to attend when given a royal invitation.” she continued while staring at Watanabe to urge him to accept.
I just want to see how those royals dine, thought Rabanowicz.
“Right, it’d be most rude to not accept such hospitality.” replied Watanabe. He didn’t need any urging to accept this invitation.
I just want to see the princess, thought Watanabe. I’ve always had a soft spot those rich, elegant lady characters. Maybe she’ll fall in love with me and become my first harem member? Or she gets kidnapped and I get to-
As if the universe itself had heard Watanabe, a guard suddenly ran into the room. He was out of breath, and needed a few seconds to even gather enough air to speak.
“Sir! Some of the ducks in the garden have went missing!” exclaimed the guard.
…How disappointing. It’s just some ducks.
“Is it really the appropriate time for this?” replied Theodore. “You are dismissed.”
“No sir, there are even graver news…”