Chapter 211
Chapter 211
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 211
Chapter Title: Evan the Second
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Sir Evan, who had woken up early at dawn, packed his bags and headed for His Highness the Prince's bedroom. Although his master would stand guard in his stead, he wanted to take in the sight of their baby kitten sleeping before heading out.
'...Come to think of it, I forgot to ask about the divine punishment.'
He had been so shocked by the fact that His Highness had regained even a tiny bit of mana that it had slipped his mind.
If that lynx is awake, maybe I should ask before I go, he thought, reaching for the door to His Highness's bedroom. But just then, he sensed the prince's presence from the other side.
'Already awake?'
A bit puzzled but figuring it was possible, he opened the door.
"Your Highness, you're up early...?"
"......"
However, the one who was awake wasn't His Highness—it was the lynx.
"......?"
Sir Evan was momentarily bewildered by the sight of the lynx pacing restlessly around the room since dawn.
'Did His Highness talk in his sleep or something?'
Stunned that he had mistaken their adorable baby kitten's presence for the cheeky lynx's, he stood there blankly. The white-haired figure on the other side didn't so much as acknowledge his arrival—not even a glance—as it went about its business.
"Evan, heading out now?"
The familiar voice snapped Evan back to his senses.
"Ah, yes. Captain. Please take good care of His Highness today."
"Don't worry—just go and enjoy yourself. More importantly... ahem, feel free to call me something more casual."
"......?"
Casual?
Evan wondered how much more casual it could get, but after some deliberation, he muttered uncertainly.
"...Captain?"
Thud, flop.
The lynx, who had been pacing about, suddenly tripped.
"Why'd you fall like that?"
He hurried over to help it up, only for the lynx to shoot him a pitiful, half-lidded glare.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Do you even have a brain?"
"......"
This guy... after I helped him up...
"...What did I do to deserve that?"
"The captain wants you to call him 'Master.'"
"Ah......"
At Nihil's words that hit the nail on the head, Evan and Walter simultaneously glanced at each other before sharply turning away.
"M-Master, it's not that I didn't want to call you that..."
"N-No, don't misunderstand, Evan. It's not like I'm demanding you acknowledge me as your master..."
"Tsk tsk."
Nihil clicked his tongue at his two dishonest apprentices and resumed walking. In that instant, his bruised knee throbbed faintly.
Drizzle began to fall early that morning. It seemed summer had truly arrived.
Unable to head to the training grounds, he was stuck in his room, but unlike the muggy weather, the atmosphere inside was surprisingly bright.
"How about three gold coins?"
"Five."
"...Four."
"......"
Lianus watched his friend haggling with Sir Ernest. His brilliant companion seemed to make money far more easily than expected.
'...Five gold on a salary might be a bit low, actually.'
Thinking that, he inwardly cheered for his friend to squeeze a bit more out of Sir Ernest—when a sharp sting pricked his fingertip.
"......?"
Puzzled, he examined the tip of his finger. There was a tiny scratch, as if from a thorn.
'Was the wooden sword not smoothed properly?'
But his palm already bore several such scratches, so Lianus brushed it off.
"Honestly, five gold doesn't even cover the footage value. How stingy can you be with your own disciple's recording?"
"...Show me a clip while you negotiate."
Walter grumbled, a touch dissatisfied. Ordinary recording orbs were one-use only and couldn't be reused. With no idea what was stored inside—just told it featured his disciple—he couldn't buy on blind faith. Worst case, it might only show the back of his head.
But as Lianus listened, he tilted his head. Sir Ernest's disciple had to mean Sir Evan...
"Nil, is this... that one from last time...? The, uh, drunken footage?"
"No. I deleted that. This is something else."
"......"
Lianus was at a loss for words. Did Sir Evan even know his footage was being peddled like this?
Walter, who had assumed it was that day's recording, asked in bewilderment.
"Something else? You're not selling the previous one?"
"Deleted it."
"Why?"
"I was in it."
The mutt kept sniffing around the lynx—no helping it. But Nihil hadn't wanted to erase his own record himself, so he'd set it to delete naturally when the communication came in.
"...So what's on this one?"
"Footage of me teaching Evan the Second."
"...?! Evan has a kid?!"
Walter was inwardly shocked—he hadn't even known his disciple had a child... no, a lover. How could he not mention it? Sure, they'd only recently started rebuilding their bond, but still!
"Meow!"
Just as a twinge of hurt crept in, a puppy came waddling over. Its slightly floppy ears flapped along with its body.
"Evan the Second."
"......?"
Nihil scooped up the approaching Evan the Second with delight. It seemed the little guy had caught on that his name was mentioned.
Walter's shocked expression gradually shifted to something more nuanced.
"...That pup's name is..."
"Evan the Second."
"No, Sir Ernest! It's Robert Lewis de Armand the Second!"
The simultaneous shouts left Walter's mind in brief chaos, but in the end, the only name that stuck was Evan the Second.
"So, buying or not? Footage of me teaching the kid how to talk. It's short, but you can milk it for life."
"...Five gold, then?"
"Six."
"Why'd it go up—no, fine, six it is."
And so, a secret deal was struck in Evan's absence.
Ariel beamed, a flower pin tucked into her hair.
"Oppa, what do you think?"
Evan couldn't bring himself to answer. Instead, he gently stroked her small head and let the corner of his mouth twitch upward.
"Ariel."
"Yeah?"
"Uh, if... no, never mind. How's your body been lately?"
Evan changed the subject in the end. Spilling the truth to Ariel would only burden her—no change would come of it. Worse, it'd be using an innocent child to soothe his own guilt.
"All good. I barely trip when walking anymore. Wanna see?"
With that, she hopped off the bed and bounced around demonstratively. She was still skinny as ever, but thanks to proper sleep lately, her eyes definitely looked more vibrant.
"I'm getting better every day. Who knows—maybe I'll be cured soon."
"......"
She wouldn't be. All he'd brought were sleeping pills and painkillers.
Evan said nothing, turning his gaze to the window where rain drizzled steadily. He suddenly wished it would keep pouring straight through the night. On dark, cloudy nights without moonlight, Ariel hurt less.
No-moon phases were safe enough to leave the window open, too...
The moon, the moonkin tribe, divine punishment.
The pieces fit together too neatly—Evan's suspicions grew stronger. Futility washed over him at the same time. Not even the lynx could handle divine punishment. A grand duke would be out of luck too.
'What do I do now?'
Was living under divine punishment more agonizing, or being slain by his sole blood kin?
Evan closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He didn't want to think anymore.
"Oppa, you look worn out."
"......"
He didn't reply. He couldn't bear to lie and say he was fine, nor did he feel like admitting the truth.
"...Is the prince bullying you?"
"What? No!"
Evan shot to his feet in denial. He couldn't even imagine the world's kindest, gentlest prince tormenting anyone!
"Or not... I figured he wasn't the type anyway."
"Ariel, have you met His Highness?"
"Huh? He comes by sometimes."
"When... exactly?"
Evan's mind reeled. Since entering the palace, he'd never breathed a word about Ariel to anyone. His Highness couldn't possibly know, so how could they have met...?
"Oh, you mean the 1st Prince."
The belated realization made Evan slump. The baby serpent must drop by regularly to check his weak spot.
"Hey, oppa, the 1st Prince is straight out of a fairy tale. Last time he brought this super pretty cake—really..."
Evan sneered as Ariel chattered excitedly.
"...We'll see about that."
"It's not a difficult task."
"......"
Sir Evan gazed down at the baby serpent with his blackish-blue hair and crimson eyes.
He'd anticipated this—which was why he'd kept putting it off. But now that it was here, his mind was absurdly blank.
The baby serpent proffered a box with a handle, flashing a grin.
"A gift."
"......"
"Bae-dong gobbled it right up."
It was a dessert box—dainty and packed with two kinds of slice cake.
One was a ganache cake coated in glossy chocolate; the other, ostentatiously topped with strawberries.
Evan stared at the dessert box for a moment before speaking.
"Where's the antidote?"
He skipped the obvious "Is it poisoned?"
"Why assume it's poisoned?"
"Then it's fine to say it's from the 1st Prince?"
"Sure, if you can handle Mother's wrath."
"......"
Evan bit his lip. The sight must have amused him—a low chuckle followed.
"Just a little scare. No need to fret."
The 1st Prince spoke lightly, but Evan knew better. The gift's true aim wasn't simple harm to the lynx.
What the baby serpent craved was a show.
His Highness, writhing in trauma.
"You're taking too long."
With no response as Evan stood frozen, the 1st Prince prodded.
"Well, if you don't want it, don't take it."
"...What...?"
"I can just give it to some other kid."
Her crimson eyes widened round.
'Oppa, the 1st Prince is really like something out of a fairy tale.'
In the end, Evan accepted the box.
The low laugh carried a peculiar satisfaction.
"Enjoy your tea time, then."
Evan turned and walked away without another question.
It'll be fine. The lynx will notice.
'Sorry, Ariel.'
He just wanted it over now.
Even as the rain grew heavier, Evan didn't quicken his pace. Perhaps his rain-soaked pant legs weighed him down too much—or maybe the presence trailing him was too distracting.
Ting-.
Walking like a machine whose sole purpose was motion, Evan turned at the clear bell chime piercing the rain. He spotted an elderly nobleman emerging from a dessert shop, cake box in hand.
"......"
Evan gazed intently at the box in his own hands before veering his steps. The watcher sprinkled killing intent like a warning, but his role was surveillance and reporting only—he'd never intervene directly.
The lynx would sense that presence without breaking a sweat.
Thinking of him brought a measure of relief.
Ting-.
The door bell rang clear as ever upon opening.
"Welcome."
Ignoring the greeting clerk, Evan scanned the interior. Few customers thanks to the rain, but his hulking frame—ill-suited to the dainty desserts—drew eyes naturally.
He might have been embarrassed by the stares under normal circumstances, but not this time. He strode straight to the display case.
"What can I get for you?"
"...Do you have any cakes with strawberries?"
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