Reincarnated as a Princess's Pet: With Trash Stats, but SSS-Rank Skill Chapter 14: The Suitors’ Event

"This is completely out of place," said a clear, firm voice.

Max turned his head and saw the elf in the white suit. Tall, immaculate, silver hair cascading all the way down to his knees. Taniel had stepped forward, his expression calm... but tense.

"To interrupt a formal event like this in front of His Majesty and the princess is disrespectful," he continued. "No matter how... important you believe yourself to be."

Gawain let out a light snort.

"Interrupt?" he repeated, adjusting the feathers around his neck. "Not at all. I simply made a grand entrance."

Several glances crossed the hall.

The bird-man tilted his head toward Taniel, looking him up and down.

"Though I understand your frustration. It can’t be easy to compete when you don’t have much to offer."

Max closed his eyes for a second.

’This can’t be happening...’

He opened one just a crack.

’These two were interesting characters in the ga.’

He closed them again.

’Now they just look like two idiots arguing in the middle of a royal hall.’

"That’s enough," the king intervened, with a tired but firm smile. "Lord Gawain, please release the royal pet."

Max felt imdiate relief when his feet touched the floor.

"It was a... humorous entrance," the king continued, "but this is a formal event. If you wish, you may give your presentation before Lord Taniel."

The king rested his elbow on the throne.

"But do not interrupt again. Or I will have you plucked."

An uncomfortable murmur rippled through the hall.

Max felt the authority the king radiated.

Gawain, however, looked delighted.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

He turned toward Elanor and bowed with exaggerated elegance.

"Princess," he said, his voice syrupy. "I am the owner of the northern fields of Eldoria, fertile lands stretching as far as the eye can see."

He began to walk slowly as he spoke, as if the entire hall belonged to him.

"I own a private island near the great volcano, with natural hot springs." He smiled. "Very relaxing."

Several nobles raised their eyebrows.

"I am also the proprietor of one of the largest mines in the north, worked by skilled dwarves..."

He paused dramatically.

"And if that weren’t enough..." he lowered his voice, "I would abandon my six lovers without hesitation if it ant earning your favor."

Silence fell over the hall.

Elanor looked at him with a serious expression, without a trace of emotion.

"Thank you very much for your presentation," she finally said, with perfect courtesy.

The king fixed his gaze on him.

"Let Lord Taniel proceed," he announced. "And then the next one. It will be a long night."

Max didn’t wait any longer. He slipped through the crowd to where Don and Sophie were standing.

"Do you know anything about the guards who were asleep by the fountain?" he asked in a low voice.

Sophie smiled faintly.

"Abby took care of it."

A chill ran down Max’s spine. Unpleasant images filled his mind.

Don looked at him angrily over the blackmail from earlier.

"She took them to the basent," he said. "They’re still alive. We’re waiting for Dorian to co back from his trip tomorrow to heal them. So relax."

Max let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

’Dorian...’

He imdiately rembered the healer from the main party. The one who always arrived late, but saved everyone in the end. In the third installnt of the ga, he had beco the king’s personal healer.

’I can’t believe I’m going to et him.’

He lifted his gaze toward the front of the hall.

Elanor was still listening to presentations. Titles. Lands. Fortunes. Promises.

Her posture was impeccable... but her eyes were tired.

One noble was speaking far too close. She tried to stifle a yawn.

Max couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.

Elanor looked up at that mont.

Their eyes t.

She raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged.

And for a mont, in the middle of heroes, nobles, and empty promises, they shared a smile.

*

The event ended late at night.

When the last noble left the hall, hiding his yawns, Elanor stepped down from the throne with an elegance that was already pure habit. As soon as her foot touched the floor, she searched for Max with her eyes.

"Will you walk to my room?" she asked softly.

Max blinked.

"Huh? Yeah, sure."

They walked together through the castle corridors, now much quieter. Torches lit the stone walls with a warm glow.

"Thank you for staying with ," Elanor said after a few steps. "I feel... comfortable when you’re nearby."

Max swallowed.

"I... you’re welco."

She hesitated for a second before continuing.

"There’s sothing I want to tell you. Sothing I’ve never told anyone."

Max’s heart skipped a beat.

’Is this...?’

The quest imdiately crossed his mind.

[ Discover the cause of the princess’s sadness. ]

’I can complete it.’

They were about to reach the staircase leading to her chambers when a familiar voice interrupted them.

"Princess Elanor."

Both of them stopped.

Gawain approached, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a carefree expression.

"Forgive the intrusion," he said, "but I’m afraid I’ve gotten lost among so many corridors and enormous doors. Would you be so kind as to tell where the guest room is for the night?"

Elanor looked at him in silence for a second.

"Of course," she finally replied, with a slightly forced smile. "Max, we’d better talk tomorrow. I’m exhausted."

Max felt a twinge of disappointnt.

"Yeah... tomorrow," he nodded.

’I’d like to pluck this bird-man too...’ he thought.

She turned toward him.

"Could you call Don, please? And ask him to escort Lord Gawain to the guest room."

She paused briefly.

"It seems he’s forgotten where it is again... even though this is the fifth consecutive year he’s co to present himself as a suitor."

Gawain laughed, as if it were a charming remark.

"The castle always changes, princess."

Elanor was already walking away.

"Good night."

Max watched her disappear down the corridor before turning back to Gawain.

"...I’ll go get Don."

As he walked, he couldn’t help thinking he’d been very close.

’Tomorrow,’ he told himself. ’It’ll be tomorrow.’