Trust

After what felt like the longest and shortest eleven days of his life, Paul exited the comparably humid and aromatic interior of his coach, a smile developing across his face as he inhaled the crisp, frigid air outside.

Stepping down after Paul, even though they should have exited before him, Zhongli's, Xiangling's, and Jean's eyes wandered the frost-covered grounds of the estate. As horrendous as the culture of the Asura Kingdom was, the world of Mushoku Tensei was still a remarkably beautiful place.

Just as Xiangling was about to ask if they could explore, Jean drew her attention with a faint cough before inclining her head towards the rather buxom, luxuriously dressed woman hurrying towards them. Xiangling was a little confused at first but quickly fixed her posture when she noticed Jean and Zhongli standing ramrod straight with their hands crossed over their laps.

Knowing what was about to transpire, a wry yet genuine smile developed across Paul's face as the woman, his mother, raced over to embrace him. This meant having his face forced into her cleavage as she squeezed his head and whispered, "My beloved Little Sun. You finally returned to me..." in a tender, loving voice.

Nodding his head, Paul gave his mother a firm hug of his own, answering, "It's good to see you, Mother..." the moment she released her grip on his head.

Surprising Paul beyond measure, Valentine suddenly planted a chaste kiss on his lips. He knew it was meant to be a sign of affection, but it still made his body tense as Valentine tittered at his expense and remarked, "You're such a mature and conscientious young boy...tell me, is it these girls that forced you to mature so quickly? Oh my..."

Though she had heard about Zhongli and Xiangling through Paul's letters and the Headmistress's bi-weekly reports, Valentine was still surprised by their appearance and bearing. Xiangling still had a long way to go, but she was only five, maybe six years old. As for Jean, Valentine knew absolutely nothing about her. If she weren't wearing a Maid outfit and standing with the other two, she would have assumed the remarkably stoic-looking girl was the First Daughter of an Upper-Middle Noble House...

With Valentine acknowledging their presence, Zhongli and Jean offered polite bows. Xiangling quickly followed suit, but her movements were less refined than the other two. Not that Valentine minded; in truth, she found Xiangling's comparative clumsiness cute.

"You must be Zhongli, Xiangling, and...?"

Offering a flawless curtsy, Jean coolly replied, "My name is Jean, and it is a pleasure to behold your esteemed countenance, Lady Valentine."

Squinting her pale-green eyes, a playfully mischievous smile developed across Valentine's face as she asked, "Are you the one who made my little Paul a man...?"

Answering in Jean's stead, Paul's expression appeared helpless as he softly muttered, "Mother...please don't say such things. Zhongli, Xiangling, and Jean may be my Attendants, but they are also my trusted friends and companions. Once I have come of age, I intend to nominate each of them as my official Retainers."

"Hmmm..."

Though she could tell Paul was being serious, Valentine knew things that were bound to derail her son's plans. Rumors regarding the capabilities of Zhongli and Xiangling had already spread throughout the Milbots Region. During their most recent Audit, the Tax Official from the Silver Palace had even inquired about Zhongli directly. A five-year-old with Advanced Earth Magic and spearmanship exceeding even Intermediate users of the Water God Style wasn't something that went unnoticed.

Cupping her son's cheeks, Valentine's expression and tone softened as she said, "Things don't always go according to plan, Paul. To not have any regrets, make sure to live each day to the fullest. Even if you make terrible mistakes, it's better to follow your desires and be hated than lament what could have been..."

Punctuating her words, Valentine pulled Paul into another full-breasted hug. If it were up to her, she would send Paul someplace far away from the Asura Kingdom. He might be a prodigy, but he was far too kind and considerate for a Noble. As his reputation and achievements continued to increase, there would be no end to the number of people seeking to take advantage of him. First and foremost being the Royal Family...

Waiting until his mother had released him, Paul found it difficult to conceal the concern in his expression as he tentatively inquired, "Has something happened?"

Shaking her head, Valentine gave Paul's cheek one final caress, saying, "Not yet. I just want you to be prepared..." before rising to her feet and adding, "We should hurry along. Your Father has been waiting to speak with you."

Suppressing his sudden and intense urge to run away from home, Paul nodded his head, answering, "Understood." before accepting his mother's outstretched hand and allowing her to guide the way. It made him feel a little awkward, but he was still only five years old. If his mother wanted to lead him by the hand, Paul didn't have the leeway to refuse...

...

..

.

*tok* *tok* *tok*

"Father, it's me, Paul. I've returned."

Hearing his son's voice, a faint smile developed across Amarant's usually stern countenance before promptly vanishing as he answered, "Enter." in an authoritative tone.

Following his Father's command, Paul pulled open the thick, magically reinforced wooden door before stepping inside and offering a courteous bow as he said, "It pleases me to see you in good health, Father. I take it the harvest was good this year?"

Without rising from his desk, Amarant rhythmically tapped the top of his desk as he said, "Sit down, son. We will have plenty of time to discuss the affairs of the Region when you accompany me during the execution of my duties. From now on, whenever you return from the Academy, you will be shadowing me to learn how to manage the territory."

Understanding it wasn't a matter up for discussion, Paul just nodded his head before sitting in the seat his Father had prepared in advance. Under normal circumstances, no one else was allowed to sit in his Father's office. Even for Paul, this was a first.

Waiting until his son had finished getting adjusted, Amarant's expression hardened as he asked, "Paul...I'm asking you this as both your Father and your Lord. Where did those girls come from?"

Blinking in surprise, Paul opened his mouth to speak but found himself at a loss for words. He didn't know exactly what his Father had heard, but it was clear he wasn't going to accept the pretense that Xiangling and Jean had been acquired through the Slave Market. Zhongli's origins were a little easier to explain, but only if his Father believed he had somehow acquired a tool that allowed him to conjure Elemental Spirits.

Instead of immediately answering his Father's question, Paul asked, "Can I have a moment to compose myself...?"

Nodding his head in approval, Amarant linked his fingers together before closing his eyes and saying, "Very well..."

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Paul also closed his eyes in an attempt to block out other stimuli. He had a very important decision to make right now. He could attempt to deceive his Father, conceivably undermining the trust he had built over the years, or he could tell him a version of the truth. Having his Father's support was pivotal to his plans. However, if Hitogami were to realize his intentions, Amarant might be manipulated to become one of his greatest enemies. The wicked God had an aura that made all native-born humans believe anything he said, so revealing the truth was exceptionally dangerous...

Deciding on a compromise between the two, Paul opened his eyes and said, "I'm ready." in a firm and resolute tone.

Opening his eyes, Amarant kept his fingers linked together as he said, "Proceed." in his usual, authoritative tone.

"First and foremost, I have a question of my own. As one of the Four Great and Noble Houses, our family should be in possession of Truth Serum or a Truth-Telling Artifact, correct?"

Furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes, Amarant asked, "Do you mean to tell me you can't reveal the truth without such measures?"

Doing his best to appear confident, Paul answered, "Believe me, Father. I want to tell you the truth. However, doing so would place my life and the lives of everyone I care about at risk. That includes you, mother, and the inhabitants of the Milbots Region."

Closing his eyes, Amarant appeared to be considering Paul's words. To the latter's considerable surprise, however, he revealed, "The chair you are presently seated in serves a similar function. Were you to lie; it would cause you to experience a sudden and intense increase in pressure. Not enough to injure you, but enough to expose that you are lying..."

Though he couldn't help feeling a little betrayed, Paul nodded his head in understanding, asking, "Shall I demonstrate my previous words weren't a lie by telling a falsehood...?"

Instead of answering his son's question, Amarant opened his eyes and waited. Paul interpreted this as a silent agreement, stating, "I like girls with tiny chests."

As if a mountain had crashed into him from above, Paul found himself pressed to the chair with such force that the legs creaked beneath him. He didn't know if the pressure increased depending on the gravity of the lie, but he currently couldn't even breathe.

Seeing beads of sweat form on his son's forehead as he struggled to draw even a shallow breath, Amarant said, "I forgive your deceit."

Feeling the pressure disappear, Paul gasped for air as he reached for the edge of his Father's desk for support. In response, his Father said, "Take your time. Breathe..." in a faint yet audibly concerned voice.

As Paul did precisely that, his Father rose from his desk to grab a bottle of brown liquor and two glasses. There were no age restrictions on alcohol in the world of Mushoku Tensei, so Amarant didn't even hesitate to pour his son a small amount before filling his glass more than halfway.

Staring at the scotch-like liquid, Paul breathed a few steadying breaths before picking up the glass and downing the contents in a single go. His Father expected him to have a coughing fit, but, having been a rather avid drinker back when he was working as a Game Developer, Paul was used to the burn of much stronger drinks.

Exhaling a hot sigh, Paul muttered, "Thanks...that helped..." before fixing his posture and asking, "I trust that was enough proof? I'd rather not have to experience it again."

Losing a bit of his usual bearing, Amarant sampled the contents of his glass before leaning back in his chair and saying, "Proceed..." in a somber tone. He didn't know what his son was about to reveal, but it apparently jeopardized the lives of everyone in the Milbots Region. Assuming his son was telling the truth, that was more than enough justification for Amarant to dismiss with his usual facade.

Though he was a little surprised by his Father's behavior, Paul adopted a severe expression as he explained, "I cannot reveal the specifics, but I have gained a power comparable to the Armored Dragon King's ability to summon Ancient Spirits. Zhongli, Xiangling, and Jean are not slaves. They are my allies, people who have vowed to protect and fight alongside me."

Hearing Paul mention the Armored Dragon King, the being responsible for the current Era's name and dating system, Amarant's pupils shrank to the size of pinholes. If Paul was telling the truth, and he appeared to be, even revealing this much was incredibly dangerous. If the Royal Family learned of his ability, they would either force him to become a Consort of the First Princess or enslave him using one of their many mind-control artifacts...

Feeling that his glass wasn't nearly full enough, Amarant filled it to the brim, nearly spilling the contents of the bottle due to how shaky his hands had become. As loyal as he was to the Royal Family, he would never allow them to take away his son. Things might have been different if Paul were ordinary, but he was so far beyond exceptional that Amarant couldn't help feeling as though his son were fated for something great. He couldn't just throw him to the wolves...

Downing nearly the entire contents of his 12oz glass in a series of large gulps, Amarant ignored the sudden feeling of weight that had descended on his mind, his expression and voice firm as he demanded, "Tell me what you need."