Unexpected Gains
His blurred vision gradually sharpened, revealing a familiar ceiling.
The ceiling of the Lily Palace, its surface finely engraved with the lily crest.
The floral fragrance Emilia brought every day and the soft silk bedding that cradled his entire body reached him at once.
It was a luxury he could never have known in his impoverished modern life.
“So… it wasn’t a dream after all.”
Evan slowly pushed himself upright.
“Nngh…”
The moment he moved his upper body, a deep ache rolled through every joint. Strangely, there was no true pain in his flesh. If anything, he felt refreshed, as though he had simply slept long and well.
Leaning back against the headboard, Evan sifted through his memories.
The middle of the main thoroughfare.
Before tens of thousands of commoners and the bishop himself, Jerome’s blade had clashed with his own.
“And then it broke…”
The last thing he recalled was forcing himself back to his feet through sheer will. Everything after that had been cleanly severed, as if snipped away by scissors.
What happened after that?
He was still trying to drag the missing memories free when—
Creak.
The door to the bedchamber opened.
“Y-Your Highness? Your Highness!”
Emilia, carrying a basin of warm water and clean towels in both hands, froze with her eyes gone wide. She set the basin down on the side table and all but threw herself to the edge of Evan’s bed.
“Have you… have you come to your senses? Hic… Your Highness…!”
Tears welled in her large eyes and soon rolled down her cheeks in thick drops. Genuine worry for his safety shone plainly on her face.
Evan looked down at the weeping maid, then issued a cold order.
“Stop crying. I believe I told you never to show such weakness in my presence until I give you leave.”
“Hic! I-I’m sorry, Your Highness. I was just so happy that I…”
“Enough. Summon Walter here at once. I have many questions for him.”
“Yes! I’ll bring him immediately!”
Emilia wiped her tears on her sleeve and hurried from the room.
Alone again, Evan studied the sunlight streaming through the window and roughly estimated the hour.
“A little past noon, perhaps?”
Before long, footsteps approached outside. The door opened and Walter entered. His face remained as composed as ever, yet a faint tremor in his voice betrayed how deeply he had worried.
“I present myself before His Highness the First Prince. I am most relieved to see you awake.”
“Walter.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Please speak.”
“How long have I been unconscious?”
Walter bowed his head and answered calmly.
“A full three days, Your Highness. You never regained consciousness.”
“…Three days?”
Evan’s brow furrowed. Judging by the sun, he had assumed only a few hours had passed. An entire day—no, more—had slipped by.
Irritation darkened his features. Three days. Far longer than he had expected to remain out of commission. With the bishop of the Empire still inside the kingdom, three days was more than enough time for the new balance of power he had forged within the palace to collapse back into its old shape.
“I was laid up longer than I thought… Tell me everything that happened the moment I collapsed. Leave out not a single detail.”
Walter slowly pieced the memory together and began.
“Your Highness… in the end, you fainted while still on your feet.”
“I fainted standing up?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
A faint, unidentifiable tremor ran through Walter’s voice.
“The sight of Your Highness frozen in place, still gripping the broken hilt of your sword, moved not only the tens of thousands of commoners filling the avenue but even the nobles who had been present.”
Evan listened in silence. The reactions of the people and the nobles had been exactly what he had orchestrated. What he wanted to know was what came next.
“And after that? The Third Prince’s side wouldn’t have simply let it end there.”
“Of course not. Yet Duke Waldstein, the Commander-in-Chief, stepped forward and blocked their path.”
At the mention of Waldstein’s intervention, Evan felt a measure of satisfaction; things had progressed roughly as he had predicted.
“But events then took a direction none of us foresaw.”
“An unforeseen direction?”
“Commander Jerome of the Rose Knights… suddenly sheathed his own sword and admitted defeat.”
“…Jerome?”
The unexpected name made Evan’s eyes widen slightly.
“Yes. Even while His Highness the Third Prince screamed about insubordination and threatened to throw him into the dungeons at once, Jerome sheathed his blade and acknowledged his loss.”
Jerome, Commander of the Rose Knights… an unexpected harvest?
Jerome’s actions lay completely outside Evan’s calculations. He had never expected the man to defy the Third Prince’s orders and declare defeat of his own accord.
“And then His Excellency Bishop Augustus, who had been watching everything, stepped forward.”
“The bishop?”
“Yes. His Excellency proclaimed, ‘The First Prince has demonstrated the mercy of God,’ and declared Your Highness the victor. He then descended from his carriage, personally unleashed his sacred power to heal you, and called the entire affair ‘a miracle wrought by divine mercy.’”
When Walter finished, a quiet stillness settled over the bedchamber.
Evan slowly flexed his fingers against the sheets on which he had lain for three days. His expression shifted by the second. Because the stage had never reached the finale he intended, not everything had gone according to plan. Jerome’s unilateral surrender and the greedy bishop’s seizure of the narrative under the banner of “divine mercy” had both been unscripted.
Yet Evan soon allowed a satisfied smile to curve his lips.
In the end, the result isn’t bad.
Every card he had wanted now rested in his hand. More importantly, no one would ever again dismiss him as the incompetent First Prince.
“Your Highness… may this humble servant dare offer a word?”
“Speak.”
“Please never act as you did this time again. Though you have awakened safely, had Jerome’s sword pierced your heart, or had the bishop simply turned away, you would not be here now. Your life does not belong to you alone. I beg you to consider the future of the kingdom.”
Sincerity colored every syllable of Walter’s voice. He had offered similar counsel before, yet this time the worry for Evan’s safety was genuine. Sensing the change, Evan smiled inwardly.
I’ve gained far more than I expected.
Outwardly, however, he revealed none of that calculation. Until he was certain, he still needed to play the noble protagonist.
Evan looked straight down at Walter.
“Walter.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“If I die fulfilling my duty in that very place… would that not be the most worthy death a member of the Phanelia royal bloodline could meet?”
“……!”
Not the slightest waver marred the resolve shining in those blue eyes. The single sentence set Walter’s heart pounding. A ruler who placed the kingdom and its people above his own life. He could no longer deny it. The true “final ember” he had spent his entire life seeking in the shadows now stood before him.
Walter bowed his head, struggling to contain the emotion surging through him.
“…Until the day this life ends, I shall follow Your Highness’s will.”
It was the moment Walter truly acknowledged Evan.
Evan’s private thoughts, however, were nothing like Walter’s.
A worthy death? Nonsense…
He was no reckless child who threw his life away for the thrill of playing hero. Standing against Jerome’s blade in the middle of the avenue had been a meticulously calculated gamble. He had needed a stage on which to announce his existence to the entire world, and Edwin had kindly provided the opportunity.
From the beginning it had been a place watched by tens of thousands of commoners, the kingdom’s nobles, and the bishop of the Empire. Even a discarded prince could not be openly murdered or maimed in such a setting. No matter how foolish Edwin might be, the people around him would never have allowed Jerome to kill him. And even if the worst had come to pass and Jerome’s sword had aimed for his throat, the Commander-in-Chief standing right there would never have simply watched. On top of that, the ultimate insurance—Walter, the Master of Masters—had been present.
My dream is to sit in the safest seat of all and seize victory as a dictator. Not to die a glorious hero.
Evan had merely performed a tightrope walk that looked dangerous after confirming, layer upon layer, every safety measure that would keep him from dying.
The truly dangerous blades are the ones that come from places you cannot see.
He already knew that after this incident those blades would multiply. Precautions against them would have to be thorough.
Having ordered his thoughts, Evan threw off the covers and asked,
“By the way, what became of that brother and sister?”
“As it was Your Highness who intervened, Gareth and the knights brought them both to the Lily Palace the moment the situation settled. They are currently residing in one of the annexes.”
“Is that so? And the girl’s illness?”
“While treating Your Highness’s wounds, His Excellency the Bishop extended the same mercy to the child. She is presently recovering in the annex.”
As he listened, the image of the massive figure he had faced on the avenue flashed through Evan’s mind—the somewhat simple-looking giant.
Hmm… I’m certain I’ve seen him somewhere before.
At the time he had been too occupied to pay it any mind, yet hearing Walter’s report brought the man’s face back and with it a nagging sense of familiarity.
Since they’re in the annex, I can summon them later and check. The urgent matter right now is the bishop.
The problem Evan needed to resolve immediately was Bishop Augustus of the Empire, who had nested himself inside the main palace of the Phanelia Kingdom. So long as the bishop remained in the kingdom supporting the Third Prince, no amount of goodwill from the neutral faction or the common people would matter.
“What is the bishop doing now?”
“Since that day he has remained in the Guest Palace, receiving the nobles who come to call upon him.”
“The Guest Palace?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The Guest Palace was where foreign visitors stayed. Had the bishop come solely to support the Third Prince, he should have been lodged in the Rose Palace.
“Walter. I will go to meet the bishop at once. Prepare my clothes.”
“Your Highness, you have only just… ahem. Understood.”
Walter had intended to urge rest, yet Evan’s silent gaze forced him to yield a step.
Left alone, Evan pictured the porcine face of the bishop.
Perhaps things will resolve more easily than I thought.
He had felt a lingering regret that the finale of the stage he had directed had ended with his own collapse. Yet the bishop’s subsequent actions suggested that, despite his appearance, the man possessed enough sense to read the current of the times.
Evan walked to the window and gazed at the main palace of the Phanelia Kingdom rising in the distance. Bathed in sunlight, it looked as though it already lay within the grasp of the Holy Empire.
Whether my prediction is correct or not, I’ll know once I meet him.
Evan’s blue eyes glittered as if they meant to swallow that sun whole.