A week of spending time together gave Higashino Makoto a completely new understanding of Draudillon.
She is more suited to be a king than I thought.
Perhaps not the most talented.
There are always some people in this world who are born knowing how to rule, how to scheme, and how to dance on the edge of a knife.
Draudillon isn't that kind of person.
She wasn't ruthless enough, cold enough, or tactful enough.
But she was diligent.
Extremely diligent.
I get up before dawn every day, wash up, change clothes, have breakfast, and then sit at my desk to deal with the mountains of documents.
Border deployments, refugee resettlement, fiscal budgets, food reserves, diplomatic relations with neighboring countries, domestic noble conflicts, army training programs, the recruitment and hiring of adventurers...
She personally reviewed every document and carefully considered every decision.
If you don't understand something, ask the prime minister, ask the ministers, ask the generals who fought on the front lines, and ask the merchants who travel among the people.
She is good at learning.
It's not the kind of genius-style learning where you "can't forget anything," but a simpler, more down-to-earth way of learning, like ants carrying food, accumulating little by little.
Ask again today, tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow about the questions you didn't understand yesterday, until you do.
She wouldn't be embarrassed to speak up just because she's a queen, nor would she disregard someone's opinion because of their lowly status.
"Your Majesty, you already inquired about this matter yesterday."
The prime minister couldn't help but remind her once again.
"I know. But I'd like to confirm it again."
Draudillon answered without looking up, her quill pen scratching across the document.
The prime minister looked at her, a hint of relief flashing in his gray eyes, then said nothing more.
Higashino Makoto sat in an armchair by the window, watching all this with a hint of appreciation in his dark eyes.
This Dragon King Princess is indeed quite remarkable.
He had assumed that after he had given the angel his power and promised to protect her, Draudillon would still come looking for him.
After all, the Dragon Kingdom was too weak. Even though the twelve angels had dealt with the most important top-tier combat force, there were still many troubles waiting for this country.
Therefore, Higashino Makoto thought that Draudillon would ask him for help with this and that, would make all sorts of requests of him, and would cling to him like a drowning person grasping at a straw.
This is only natural.
Once a clear shortcut is found, few people would choose to leave it unused.
But Draudillon did not.
It's been a week.
She never proactively sought out Higashino Makoto to do anything.
There was no request, no hint, not even a simple "Can you help me?"
She was simply doing what she was supposed to do—handling government affairs, reassuring the people, deploying defenses, and rebuilding homes.
It's as if Higashino Makoto doesn't exist.
Apart from the twelve angels, the rest used the power possessed by the Dragon Kingdom itself.
"Draudillon."
One evening, Higashino Makoto couldn't help but ask her.
Why don't you come and beg me?
Draudillon was sitting in front of her dressing table, combing her long black hair. Hearing his question, she paused for a moment, then continued combing.
What do you want from me?
"Anything is fine. I might not be good at handling government affairs, but I can help you deal with those disobedient nobles, solve your financial problems, and solve your food problems. Anything is fine."
Draudillon was silent for a moment.
"Because you are not from the Dragon Kingdom, just as you said in the Holy Kingdom, you are merely a wandering paladin."
She said it calmly.
"You are not a tool. I cannot use you as a tool simply because you have power."
Higashino Makoto raised an eyebrow.
Aren't you afraid that if I leave, I won't have another chance?
"Afraid."
Draudillon put down the comb, turned around, and looked at him with her dark eyes.
"But I'm even more afraid that I'll become someone who only knows how to depend on others."
Higashino Makoto looked at her for two seconds.
"You've thought things through quite well."
"It's not that I can figure it out."
Draudillon stood up, walked to the window, and opened it. The night breeze blew in, ruffling her long black hair and white nightgown.
"It's because I've seen too many people like that before."
What kind of person?
"Those who depend on the Slane Theocracy's aid, like myself."
Draudillon's voice was very soft.
"The Dragon Kingdom donates a large sum of money to the Slane Theocracy every year in exchange for military aid from the Sunlight Scripture. This money requires the people to tighten their belts and endure the risk of starvation."
She paused.
Every year, ministers would say to me, "Your Majesty, could you please reduce the donations this year? The people are barely able to cope." I wanted to say "yes," but I dared not. Because if the Slane Theocracy's aid were to cease, the Dragon Kingdom would be finished.
She turned around and looked at Higashino Makoto.
"Therefore, I really want to thank you. With those twelve angels, the people of the Dragon Kingdom will no longer need to pay such a large sum of taxes, can eat their fill, and no longer need to worry about Orc invasions."
"Furthermore, once I speak up, I always worry that I will become too reliant on your power, a power that does not belong to the Dragon Kingdom."
Higashino Makoto fell silent.
He looked at Draudillon, at the burning, stubborn, and unyielding light in those dark eyes.
So you won't ask me for help.
"Right."
Even if I offered to help you?
Even if you offered to help me.
Draudillon walked back to the dressing table, sat down again, picked up the comb, and continued combing her hair.
"If you're willing to help me, that's a favor you'll do. I'll remember it, be grateful, and repay you when you need it. But I won't ask you for anything. Because favors that are asked for must be repaid, and the Dragon Kingdom can no longer afford to repay them."
The room fell silent.
Higashino Makoto leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes staring at the ceiling, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.
"Draudillon."
"Um."
"You're really stubborn."
"I know."
"But her stubbornness is... kind of cute."
Draudillon paused for a moment, then continued combing.
"... You're really annoying."
"I know."
Draudillon did not speak again.
She simply sat in front of the dressing table, quietly combing her hair, a faint smile on her lips.
Higashino Makoto stood up, walked behind her, and took the comb from her hand.
"I'll do it."
Draudillon paused for a moment.
"You... you know how to comb hair?"
"Won't."
"Then you still--"
"You'll know once you try."
Higashino Makoto picked up the comb and clumsily combed her hair. His movements were very light and slow, as if he were handling something precious.
Draudillon sat there, her back ramrod straight, her hands on her knees, her dark eyes gazing at herself in the mirror.
And the dark-haired man standing behind her.