Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Classroom Tensions
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Lianus had been happily chattering away about his dear friend when the Prime Minister suddenly appeared, half-forcing him into the classroom.
And without any time to prepare himself mentally, he came face-to-face with those crimson eyes that resembled blazing flames.
It would have been better if the lesson had just started right away, but the Prime Minister who had escorted him there was off in the hallway, talking with another official as if some urgent matter had come up.
His half-brother, the 1st Prince Lawrence de Harpen, who shared His Majesty's blackish-blue hair and the Queen's fiery eyes.
Lawrence approached first, a red line curving on his lips.
"Lianus, come on in."
"Yes."
Lianus gave a curt reply and took his seat with his head bowed. He couldn't bring himself to meet those crimson eyes. More than anything, he had no desire to exchange lengthy words with his older brother right now.
There had certainly been a time when he was overjoyed if his brother spoke to him first, but now he couldn't even recall why that had been the case.
It was simply uncomfortable.
"Attending classes alone for two days must have been lonely. Have you changed your mind again?"
At the mention of loneliness, Lianus let out a wry smile most uncharacteristic of himself.
Lianus fell ill frequently, and each time he was bedridden for two to three days. Whether dragging his sickly body to class or returning after three days of illness, Lawrence had never once uttered words like "lonely," "lonesome," or "bored" up until now.
Moreover, they had attended swordsmanship class together just yesterday, so by that logic, it had only been a single day.
Lianus no longer fell for those gentle words. Nor did he harbor even the faintest sliver of hopeful expectation.
Now, he had a dear friend who grew bored waiting for him and urged him to hurry back.
Lianus strained to work his stiff facial muscles into a smile. He had no idea if the corners of his mouth were cooperating, but he forced his voice to sound casual as he spoke.
"No, Older Brother. The Prime Minister said he'd split the imperial studies classes whenever he had some free time."
Lianus wanted to tell his brother.
That he hadn't felt lonely for a moment—that he'd been happy the whole time. That his dear friend had nursed him through his illness, played with him, eaten with him, slept beside him, and stayed by his side without fail. And that when he returned to the palace, his friend would greet him with joy.
He wanted to ask if his brother's play attendants welcomed him so devotedly, solely for his sake, the way his own dear friend did.
But he held back. His brother's attention would only be poison to his dear friend.
A faint crack appeared in Lawrence's ever-serene smile, and his crimson eyes slowly swept over Lianus.
Lianus, who wasn't looking at Lawrence, remained oblivious, but the escort knights who had been watching him intently sensed the shift in atmosphere and grew tense.
"My mother is quite curious about your friend. An invitation will be sent soon."
Lawrence never referred to the Queen as "Your Majesty" or "Her Highness"—always "my mother." As if to stress that Lianus was a total outsider who could never claim her.
At the mention of the Queen, Lianus flinched and stiffened, but the unease didn't linger. It was something already anticipated, and his dear friend had told him not to worry—that it would be fine—so surely it would be.
"Yes."
Lianus replied just as curtly this time. It wasn't intentional, but his tongue felt frozen solid, words refusing to come easily.
He knew he was poor at hiding his emotions and was well aware of it, so he imagined his current expression resembled a frightened little mouse cowering before a predator.
So he tried to picture his dear friend.
Quietly taking a deep breath, he released the tension coiled in his body and slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again, as if hypnotizing himself.
Attempting to mimic, even slightly, that aloof and languid white beast—indifferent to all things, yet handling anything with effortless poise.
He couldn't tell if he was succeeding, but his mood did feel a touch better.
Noticing the odd shift in Lianus's demeanor, Lawrence smoothed his expression and was about to speak when the door flew open.
In walked a young man with long brown hair glowing with a warm orange tint.
It was Marquis Abel Bridged, the Prime Minister and their instructor.
"The 1st Prince is here as well. I was delayed by some business."
"Prime Minister, you've arrived."
"Welcome, Teacher."
Abel received the starkly contrasting greetings at once and responded with a soft smile crinkling his eyes.
"I hope both Princes have been well."
Abel Bridged was not only Prime Minister but also a childhood friend raised alongside King Sedes. Unlike the gruff king, who struggled with emotional expression, Abel's gentle, considerate nature endeared him to all.
He had been the only one able to scold Sedes up until now—but thanks to Nihil nagging "the kid's dad" that day, he had unwittingly joined the select few permitted to do so.
The lesson proceeded without interruption. No further words passed between the two princes.
Once class ended, the Prime Minister inquired about his dear friend.
"2nd Prince, I hear you've made a new friend?"
"Ah, yes, y-yes."
"Getting along well with him?"
"Yes, v-very well. Really, um... we're doing great."
Lianus longed to gush endlessly about his incredible friend, but with his brother lingering in place instead of leaving, he could only mumble vaguely.
As he floundered awkwardly, unsure what to say, Evan returned.
Lianus beamed brightly at his guard knight, welcoming him warmly.
"Sir Evan, where have you been?"
"My apologies. Since Your Highness falls ill so often, we've arranged for a dedicated pharmacist and moved some herbs to the palace. I'll explain fully once we're back. Also, His Majesty invites both Princes to join him for a meal. What would you like to do?"
"Eh, h-huh? His Majesty?"
Lianus pictured Nihil waiting alone back at the palace. But he couldn't very well refuse His Majesty's invitation to dine, so he nodded reluctantly.
The crimson eyes that met his for that brief instant curved gently.
He hadn't even eaten yet, but his stomach was already starting to churn.
The very King Sedes who had proposed the meal arrived a little late, swamped with work.
Even during the meal, the king and Prime Minister discussed affairs without pause. Sedes in particular had wasted the entire morning at the 2nd Prince's Palace, so he pressed on relentlessly afterward.
"...And Prime Minister, about that pirate ship from the Eastern Continent the other day."
At the mention of the pirate ship, Evan—the sole knower of its destroyer—flinched in shock.
It had been neatly resolved without issues. Why dredge it up again?
"'The pirate ship disguised as an Eastern Continent trade vessel,' Your Majesty."
Abel corrected precisely while eating, ensuring the listening princes wouldn't misunderstand.
Summoning the princes was partly for a shared meal, but mainly to acquaint the young royals with the kingdom's affairs, bit by bit.
Sedes was swift and precise in his judgments—a supremely capable sovereign—but frankly, not the best superior for his subordinates.
His own brilliance meant he couldn't grasp what others failed to, and his men scrambled to match his pace.
He naturally struggled to simplify what he knew, leaving most explanations to Abel.
"Ahem. In any case, a formal reply just came in. Did you see it?"
"I heard a summary before class. Pirates who'd built a massive syndicate in the Eastern Empire, correct? Why not hand over their identities as requested and pursue trade?"
"Agreed, that's my judgment too. But a snag's arisen. Faint traces of demonic energy linger on the salvaged ship."
"...Demonic energy, Your Majesty?"
Abel frowned faintly. All matters of magic beasts or demons fell under Grand Duke Diabolus's purview. If the pirates had even a tangential link, their identities couldn't be disclosed lightly.
"What's the Grand Duke's position?"
"He's in a tricky spot himself. Traces remain, but nothing more. Could be they mistook a magic beast for some exotic animal, captured it, and it perished in the blast right there—but traces persisted in areas untouched by the explosion. And given it was a chemical-reaction blast, instant death for a magic beast seems unlikely. Two possibilities: either someone slew it on-site before detonation, or a demon too potent for the Grand Duke to track was present."
Sedes pressed his temples as if nursing a headache.
Abel pondered briefly, shrugged, and replied.
"Likely the former, no? The Grand Duke ranks among the highest demons, after all."
"So I thought, but neither the surviving pirates nor the illicit slaves knew of the magic beast. They might claim it was merely an animal, but animal or beast, its killing would have caused a stir regardless. And get this—no one knows who blew the ship sky-high. Despite it not being natural."
Evan flinched anew. Other details aside, the ship's saboteur was unequivocally that lynx kid. Had he slain the magic beast too?
Then absurd rumors swirling around Nihil in the 2nd Prince's Palace resurfaced. That he was a demon-crafted magic puppet... or a demon incarnate...
No, surely not.
He'd thought the boy seemed inhuman at times... but no.
Evan's face grew rigid as those thoughts crystallized.
What if he was a demon—or a demon half-breed? It might explain his youthful look despite his age, surviving those toxic herbs.
Then enduring the carriage crash wasn't mere luck. If he'd unwittingly left demonic traces on the ship... if that were true, what then? Exposure as a demon, dragged before the Grand Duke for torment...!
Evan had glimpsed the Grand Duke once, at the prince's fifth birthday. Hair like ink dragging the floor, eyes no human could possess.
The mere presence menaced, but eye contact had nearly stopped his breath.
He pictured Nihil before the Grand Duke, branded a demon.
"......"
Was his imagination deficient, or had two years diluted that terror?
The tiny white beast lifted its head defiantly before the monstrous black one, retorting rudely in familiar tones.
'...Torture wouldn't even be the issue—he'd be slaughtered on the spot without surprise.'
No, no. Premature to assume.
Evan shook his head vigorously, striving for calm.
The lynx was tougher than expected, knew odd things—could've dispatched the magic beast quietly with ease.
And even if—very if—he truly was a demon, Evan could verify discreetly, shield him from the Grand Duke.
...He could, right?