Talent Awakening (2)
“A saint? Not a saintess?” Empress Camilla echoed back at me.
I pointed right at the artifact and replied, “That chalice awakens latent talents. If it produces a saintess from an alliance between you and our house, it’d be the greatest blessing imaginable.”
“Indeed.”
“The Gotberg blood runs thicker in me than in Neria. Just look at my hair.”
I leaned back against the chair and tilted my head up for a good view. Snow-white hair. Pale shades were the hallmark of families strong in divine power. And anyone could see mine was far whiter than Neria’s.
“If I awaken my talent, doesn’t that mean I’ve got a much higher shot at being chosen as the saint?”
Camilla’s face soured a bit at my words. Well, no wonder—the guy who’d stabbed her hand that afternoon was suddenly playing nice as pie come evening. It’d rattle anyone.
That confusion was exactly what I wanted. Was that crown incident just a thoughtless impulse? Was stabbing her hand a mere slip-up? Or was this guy nothing but a brainless wastrel? She’d be swimming in suspicions.
People let their guards down when the other side seems easy to handle. What Camilla needed was solid leverage to keep someone politically under her thumb. She’d picked Neria because she seemed meek. But a brainless wastrel was even easier to manipulate than a righteous type.
Time to play the wastrel she wanted.
“Do you want this artifact?”
“Not really? It’s just the odds.”
I shrugged. “Ras, becoming a saint comes with heavy duties.”
“Aw, I don’t know much about that stuff. If problems pop up, Dad’ll handle it, right?”
“Hmm…”
“Dad, you can’t retire as family head until I’m grown up, okay? You know I hate headaches.”
I laughed heartily and slapped my father’s shoulder. I chugged straight from the wine bottle and let out a long, drawn-out belch.
“Hey! We’re out of booze! Fill it up quick, you idiots!”
I bellowed like a man deep in his cups.
Camilla stared at me in disgust. How about that? I wasn’t betraying the house—I’d be its obedient wastrel forever. I’d put the collar on myself.
Still chuckling, I turned to her. “Aw, now even Your Majesty’s cracking a smile. All that heavy talk was making me sleepy. Have you seen our territory? The street food’s to die for. If you’ve got time tomorrow, let’s—”
“Young master, hold on. Let’s finish with this artifact first.”
Camilla cut me off in a panic. She was dying to wrap this up before it fizzled out. That impatience was why she couldn’t hold ground in the palace. She was showing her hand without me even asking.
“So, do you intend to use the chalice, young master?”
“If it’s good for me, sure, why not?”
“…Do you grasp this artifact’s value?”
“Aw, how would I know that? But it’s that good, huh? As the eldest son, shouldn’t I use it before Neria?”
I slipped in a hint that giving it to Neria would cause a tantrum. Not that I’d keep it—but ignore me, and I’d make a scene. Pure childish fit.
Camilla glanced between me and the artifact, then asked my father, “What say you, Marquis?”
“If it’s Ras’s will, I’ve no objection.”
Asella chimed in then. She’d been bored stiff until now, but something had piqued her interest. “Why not give it to the young master?”
Her eyelashes lowered slyly. “It’s true his divine power’s stronger. Imagine him as a saint.”
“My personal physician? That’d be fun.”
“…We’ll consider it.”
Camilla picked up the artifact and swept out of the banquet hall, knights and attendants in tow. Asella shot me a smirk and followed.
Once they were gone, my father, Neria, and I lingered in the lounge.
“Ras, I took your antics earlier for an act. What was the intent?”
“That artifact’s called the
Awakens hidden talents—but at great cost.
It unlocks hidden talents, but you pay a steep price.”
“A price?”
“Nothing in this world comes free. You gain a talent, you lose something else. Think of it as a curse.”
Asella had said something similar. Wonder what it’d demand from her. I’d figure that out later.
As I’d said, using the chalice opened a talent’s skill tree—but slapped on a random debuff. For low-grade talents, it was a net loss. But with my S-rank locked away, the debuff was worth it.
“Um, brother…”
Neria called to me, her face a touch scared.
“Thank you…”
For what? If she used it, she’d awaken divine talent and get picked as saintess later. The debuff? Stunted growth. Ten years on, she’d still look this young and cute.
That’s a steal. And I had two talents. Buy one, get one free.
Buying that thing outside? At least five thousand gold, and good luck finding stock—you’d wait forever. Perfect chance.
I was hoping Camilla couldn’t resist handing it over quick when Father patted my shoulder.
“Ras, that was truly noble.”
Was it?
“We lacked grounds to outright refuse Her Majesty’s proposal. If Neria accepted, we’d be stuck. You knew it all and sacrificed in her place—Father’s ashamed.”
I’d just been angling for a freebie.
“Neria’s still young with a bright future. I couldn’t let her risk a dangerous artifact. As her big brother, it’s my job to protect her.”
“Ras…!”
Father’s hand landed on my shoulder, moved. So naive. Without Camilla’s temptations, he’d have tilled this rural land in peace forever.
A knock, and the door opened. An attendant reported, “Family head, young master, young lady—Her Majesty’s made her decision.”
The old fox had finally budged.
“Let’s go, Father.”
I strode confidently back to the banquet hall.
Neria Gotberg was the child of a concubine. Her father was a powerful noble, but her mother a commoner—innkeeper, no less. By the time Neria came of age, she was a proper lady of the marquisate. No discrimination as the concubine’s daughter.
Her official father had passed over a decade ago; having a half-brother was the extent of Gotberg drama. Mild and quiet by noble standards.
But her mother had dumped her here and never joined the family, so Neria grew up a bit lonely. Father was gruff. Still, that was fine.
But.
…Brother scares me.
He’d get drunk at every chance and rampage through the streets. Nightly roars or smashing from the mansion? Always him.
Luckily, guards kept him from violence. Father had isolated him in the annex ages ago—no issues for Neria.
So today, facing him for the first time in nearly three years, Neria was terrified.
Don’t give him any openings. Don’t shame the family.
He’d hate her as the concubine’s kid, obviously. Steel herself, deep breaths—she entered the drawing room.
First greeting done, she thought she’d messed up. She’d flinched from his sharp eyes, averting her gaze.
What if he cursed her? Heart pounding—he spoke gently.
“That dress suits you. You look taller.”
Huh…?
Neria peeked up, studying his face again. The thug she knew. But anger faded, replaced by a faint, kind smile.
Worry eased a bit. Tension lingered—body remembered the fear, and today was showing manners to imperials.
“Missed lunch? Eat this. Sugar fixes moods quick.”
Brother placed a hard candy in her palm. What’s this mean? Bitter prank?
Doubts melted on her tongue. Sweet honey flooded her nose. Sugar hit her brain—eyes lit up.
Is Brother a magician?
Mood soared, wonder struck. Didn’t last. Talk of becoming saintess.
First image: legends of hero party battling Demon King. All brave, dying for continental peace.
I don’t wanna die…
Or fight monsters. Why tell a stranger this? Do grown-ups just say that? Father just watched.
No choice… “If it’s for the family…”
“Hold up.”
That bold, booming voice. Neria knew: Brother’s on my side.
Heehee…
Chin in hands, she watched him act against Camilla. Post-meal snack was bad habit, but she popped the candy anyway.
Brother’s…
Her chubby cheeks brimmed with trust.
Sipping post-meal tea, Camilla got to it. “Young master Gotberg, can you really awaken as saint with this artifact?”
I shrugged. “Pfft, no need to ask twice. My divine power’s top-tier. Academy kids tremble before me.”
Camilla decided. “Very well. We’ll cede it to you.”
Jackpot.
“Hmm.” Father coughed, displeased.
“Use it two days hence. Marquis?”
“Two days…” Father pondered. The debuff-as-curse bit worried him. I’d spooked him too much.
I jumped in to smooth it. “Why wait? Let’s do it now.”
All eyes snapped to me. Personal physician exam was soon—two days? Strike while the iron’s hot; hearts change overnight.
“Right now? That’s…”
“Problem?”
Camilla couldn’t counter. I glanced at Asella. She smirked back.