I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 59: Taking Care of the Steward

"Y—Your Majesty!"

As I strolled out of the courtyard and back into the open, sweeping corridors, Dorothy rushed up from behind me.

"What is it, Dorothy?" I asked, turning to face her with a calm gaze.

"I—I..." She immediately averted her eyes the moment they met mine, her delicate fists clenching tight as a fine tremor ran through her frame. "I am not..."

"You are not...?"

"I...I!"

"Dorothy."

"Y—Yes?" She finally looked up, her expression a mix of lingering fear and nervousness.

"I have a long day ahead of me. Take your time, and find me when you have gathered your thoughts," I said, offering her a faint, dismissive smile before turning back around.

I could hear her stammering something quietly behind me, but I did not afford her the courtesy of finishing.

"Leilah, are you still there?" I asked to the empty air.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she replied instantly, materializing from the shadows just behind my shoulder.

"Tell me, do I frighten you?" I asked.

There was a small pause following my question before she finally answered.

"No, Your Majesty."

What was that hesitation for?

I sensed that she harbored a fear of something, though perhaps not specifically, or entirely, of me.

Perhaps one day, after we had spent enough time together, she would finally open up. While I generally did not mind her hiding behind a mask of absolute silence, simply because Eleanor inherently trusted her, and had explicitly entrusted her to me, it would be far more comfortable to understand the woman guarding my life.

Regardless, I needed to refocus on the matter at hand.

Where exactly was this place again?

The servants’ apartments and general quarters were not situated within the main body of the castle itself, though they were technically enclosed within the royal grounds. If my memory served me correctly, they lay on the exact opposite side of the estate from the royal wing.

I traversed the winding corridors for several long minutes, treading passages I had honestly never set foot in before. My entire life had been strictly confined to the opulent royal quarters and the manicured gardens, back when I spent my days sparring with Morgana or lingering with Lenora and Cynthia. Thus, this far eastern expanse of the castle was an entirely alien landscape to me.

And I could distinctly feel the shift in atmosphere. The further I walked through these remote corridors, the gloomier and less polished they became, bleeding away the pristine gold and crimson of the inner and most important quarters.

When I finally stepped out into the sprawling, enclosed courtyard beyond the main keep, separated by a stone wall, I beheld the servants’ quarters.

The structures were distinct from the regal architecture I was accustomed to, appearing far more utilitarian and significantly less impressive. They served as the main resting and staging grounds for the castle’s immense staff, strictly segregated between men and women.

So, Alice had to make this irritatingly lengthy trek every single day just to reach my chambers?

That must have been very tedious for her.

Ignoring the main dormitories, I redirected my steps toward a cluster of considerably smaller, humbler buildings situated off to the side. These specific lodgings were explicitly reserved for the scullery boys and young maids, commoners, essentially, kept strictly segregated from the higher-ranking servants who hailed from minor noble or merchant houses.

It was still early in the morning, and I caught sight of several young workers whose eyes went wide with shock upon spotting their King strolling through their lowly domain. They scrambled to offer frantic, deep bows, to which I merely offered a brief nod of acknowledgment before continuing past the gates toward the children’s quarters.

This was no longer the royal castle.

It was just part of the castle, just in name.

As I approached the squat stone building, a mix of hurried voices and splashing water immediately met my ears. The young girls were quickly filing into a small, enclosed bathhouse situated just beside the main dormitory, while the boys had gathered in the open yard directly behind the building.

Advancing further, I observed the boys washing themselves in front of a communal stone well. They were rapidly hauling up wooden buckets, dumping the freezing water into large, battered tin basins before scrubbing themselves down in the brisk morning air. They were all entirely bare-chested, vigorously rubbing their shivering skin with tattered rags and scrap linens.

It was, quite frankly a pitiful sight.

I surmised the small, enclosed structure the girls had entered was a public bathhouse designed to afford them at least a bare minimum of modesty. Though, judging by the dilapidated state of the building, I highly doubted they were any more comfortable in there than the boys shivering out in the open yard.

Honestly, I was not entirely surprised by the squalor. Given the meager wages these children earned, the mere fact that they were provided lodgings within the royal walls spoke volumes about the rare privilege they possessed. After all, the vast majority of commoners, especially orphaned children were left to freeze and beg for scraps out on the unforgiving streets.

At least, that was the reality in the sprawling, outer slums of the capital. Because from the city center all the way up to the gilded gates of the royal castle, everything else was a meticulously crafted illusion of boundless beauty and flawless wealth.

Such was the reality of every capital in the world, I supposed. No city was ever truly flawless beneath its gilded surface.

"Hand me your scarf, Leilah," I said, holding out my hand.

She complied without a single moment of hesitation, unwinding the dark fabric from her neck and placing it in my palm.

I wrapped the black silk securely around my lower face, pulling the excess fabric up to completely conceal my distinct, goldenhair. I was standing at a fair distance, so the children likely would not have noticed me anyway, but my natural features were simply too striking to risk exposure.

Naturally, given my proximity to the barrier separating the main servants’ quarters, a few adult workers passing through the gates immediately recognized me despite the disguise. I quickly waved them away with a sharp, dismissive flick of my wrist, and they hurried off in panicked silence.

I kept my gaze fixed entirely upon the courtyard ahead of me.

I must look like a very suspicious degenerate, lurking in the shadows and watching a group of children bathe.

Roughly ten minutes later, a figure finally approached the yard.

It was a portly, red-faced man in his late thirties. This was Baldric Pettler, the Royal Steward. He was officially responsible for the castle’s general upkeep, cleanliness, and daily provisions, which naturally included overseeing the labor of these young scullions.

On a side note, he looked exactly like the stereotypical, corrupt villain you would expect him to be.

As I watched, Baldric marched aggressively toward the center of the yard. The moment they spotted him, the boys scrambling around the well hastily dropped their buckets and rushed inside the dormitory. The girls, evidently hearing the commotion of his arrival, hurried out of the bathhouse and filed into the same building.

I sincerely hope he was not doing anything weird with them...

Frowning with mounting concern, I abandoned my distant vantage point and quietly closed the distance to the small, rundown building.

When the muffled sound of voices reached my ears, I pressed my back flat against the rough stone wall just outside the entrance. Leilah appeared instantly beside me, standing awkwardly in the open. I offered her a faint smile beneath my scarf and pressed a finger to my lips. She gave a curt nod, mirroring my stealthy posture against the stone.

We undoubtedly looked like a pair of highly suspicious assassins. One of us was wearing a makeshift mask to hide his bright hair, while the other was clad head-to-toe in midnight stealth garb. Thankfully, this far corner of the yard was entirely devoid of other onlookers.

"Well? Do any of you have anything useful to report?"

Baldric’s stern, impatient voice drifted through the thin walls.

A terrified silence followed his demand, broken only by the thud of his boots pacing the wooden floorboards inside.

"What have you managed to overhear? Tell me at once," he asked harshly.

"I—I heard Princess Diana speaking..." A young girl’s voice trembled. "Her Highness sounded worried. She told Princess Lavenda that they should simply wait."

"Wait for what?" Baldric snapped.

"I—I do not know, sir."

"I do not pay you for useless, pathetic eavesdropping!"

Smack!

A sharp slap echoed loudly through the room, followed by a stifled whimper.

Wow.

Did that bastard really just strike a little girl?

"I want to hear secrets concerning the King, his family, and his wives! Important matters! I am not giving you coin to recount their stupid, mundane daily lives in the castle!" Baldric roared. "Did any of them speak of Lumiel? Have you heard any details regarding his sudden excursion outside the capital with Lady Eleanor?"

"I... I heard some maids whispering that they were going to spend the night together somewhere peaceful and beautiful," a young boy stuttered, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

I raised an eyebrow. I recognized that timid voice immediately. It was Cedrik.

Smack!

"Nghh!" Cedrik grunted in sudden pain.

"Big brother!"

This one was Lyria’s

She cried out, her voice rising with terror.

Why in the world did he just hit the boy for answering the question?

My patience entirely evaporated. Pulling the scarf down from my face, I stepped out from the shadows of the wall.

"Hmph. That arrogant boy," Baldric sneered from within, clearly referring to me. "He becomes King and beats a girl and suddenly believes he is untouchable. Power has completely gone to his empty head."

"I suppose I must agree with you on that front," I said lightly, stepping through the doorway and into the cramped hall with a pleasant, icy smile.

"Kuhh—!"

Baldric let out a strangled, pathetic gasp, his face instantly draining of all color the moment his eyes locked onto mine.

Behind him, every single boy and girl gathered in the room immediately dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads against the cold floor in terrified submission.

"Only the arrogant and untouchable parts, naturally," I said, stepping fully into the cramped room.

"Y—Y—Your Majesty...!!" Baldric choked out, his eyes bulging from his skull.

"Because the truth of the matter is, I actually am entirely untouchable," I continued, stopping just inches from him. "This is my Kingdom, my city, and these are my castle grounds, Baldric."

"Your Majesty! P—Please forgive my impudence!"

The portly steward instantly collapsed to his knees, pressing his sweaty palms flat against the grimy wooden planks and offering me a perfect, pathetic view of his balding crown. "I—I was merely requesting that these idle servants—"

"Spare me your pathetic, groveling excuses, Baldric," I cut him off, casually stepping past him.

I turned my attention toward the huddled masses of children. There were pre-teens and even a few youths who looked to be around my own age, all trembling together in the dim light. Looking up, I noticed several more small, terrified faces nervously peeking out from behind the wooden railings of the second floor. However, the exact moment they realized I was looking at them, they vanished like frightened mice.

"All of you, get down here. Now," I ordered.

Instantly, chaotic footsteps rang out as dozens of children stomped over one another, rushing down the narrow stairwell. They scrambled to join the cluster on the ground floor, immediately dropping to their knees and pressing their foreheads to the dirt.

The small hall quickly became cramped. There had to be over forty of them gathered here. I did not want to imagine the nightmarish conditions they were forced to sleep in up there.

Were they even separated between boys and girls?

This was the only building designated for them, after all. Unlike the noble servants, who were provided with two entirely distinct dormitories to maintain their modesty, these children were apparently crammed together like livestock.

It was quite well worrying.

I waited in silence for a full minute, allowing everyone to gather. I let my gaze sweep over each of their trembling forms before finally turning my attention back to Baldric. The steward was still shivering on the floor, sweat pouring from his brow in thick, desperate droplets.

"Tell me, Baldric. Is this how you have spent your days insulting me since you were first appointed as the Royal Steward?" I asked, casually clasping my hands behind my back.

"N—No, Your Majesty! I swear I only—"

"Keep your head down," I cut him off the moment he tried to lift his gaze.

He instantly snapped his head back down, almost burying his nose into the wooden floorboards.

"For years, you have been hurling insults at me, and likely at my family as well, acting with impunity within these walls. Meanwhile, you have been beating defenseless children. Obviously, none of them ever dared to utter a word of complaint. Violence is indeed a highly effective weapon for keeping mouths shut, especially when wielded against the young and vulnerable," I stated, staring down at his quivering form.

"P—Please, Your Majesty... I beg you, spare me... I truly did not mean any of those treasonous words... I was simply—"

"Spare you from what, exactly? You do comprehend that you shall never set foot inside my castle again, do you not, Baldric?" I asked, blinking down at him.

Silence stretched between us until he finally found the miserable courage to speak up.

"Y—Your Majesty, I was personally appointed to this position by the Lord Chancellor himself... in my capacity as a nobleman... to protect and oversee the castle..." He trailed off, gulping audibly.

"Go on," I coaxed, a smile curling my lips.

"Y—You cannot simply dismiss me—"

BAAAM!

I drove my boot directly into his chubby flank with devastating force. His massive body was launched through the air, crashing against the back wall. The brittle, decrepit brickwork instantly gave way, partially collapsing inward from the impact of his bulk.

Terrified screams and squeals erupted from the boys and girls behind me as they scrambled backward in panic. I ignored them, keeping my gaze locked onto Baldric, whose face was entirely contorted in agony.

He weakly attempted to shift, only to collapse back onto the floor as a loose brick tumbled down and struck him squarely between the shoulder blades.

"Uhnngg!" He let out a distinctly piggy squeal of pain.

I took a step toward him. The moment he heard my approach, he flinched.

"Eeek!"

He attempted to crawl backward, only to pin himself helplessly against the ruined brick wall.

I loomed over him. Reaching down, I grabbed a fistful of his soiled tunic and hoisted his massive, cumbersome weight entirely off the floor as though he were made of feathers.

"N—No...! Please... for—forgive me... unnkk!"

I forcefully tightened my grip, the twisted fabric cutting into his throat as I held him suspended in mid-air, staring directly into his terrified, bulging eyes.

"Who exactly do you take me for?" I asked, my voice devoid of all warmth. "Do you believe I am one of these defenseless children you so casually threaten with words and pain?"

He vehemently shook his bleeding, bruised face.

"Then tell me, who am I?" I asked, loosening my grip just a fraction to allow him to draw a ragged breath.

"K—King..."

"What King?" I asked.

"The King of... He—Helios!"

"And what am I to you?" I asked.

"M—My King..."

"Do you believe it is wise to insult and threaten your reigning King?" I asked.

He shook his head wildly, hot tears of terror streaming freely down his chubby, flushed cheeks.

Looking at him blubbering like a pathetic infant, my expression twisted in disgust.

I raised my free hand and swung it in a blindingly fast arc.

Smack!

The backhand knocked him entirely unconscious before he even registered the blow.

"What a disappointment," I muttered, unceremoniously releasing his tunic and letting his massive body thud heavily against the splintered wood.

Did Roland truly select this miserable worm to be his spy simply because he was a corrupt scumbag?