Chapter 105: This Time (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 105: This Time (6)
It seemed highly likely that Lemain’s cause of death would be heart failure. Even with Sispanian's blessing, his heart could only take so much stress. At this rate, some kind of problem felt inevitable.
Meanwhile, Alan picked up a slice of strawberry pie and took a bite, looking as though he’d found an immensely entertaining spectacle.
Seeing this, Lemain grumbled, “Can you really stomach food at a time like this?”
“I can,” Alan replied, nodding without a moment’s hesitation.
Lemain hated sweets, yet his office was always stocked with sugar-laden snacks. This was entirely because of a certain mage who dropped by from time to time to pick at the sweet treats. It was only proper, then, for that very mage to eat them diligently whenever he visited.
In any case, unlike Alan’s carefree attitude, Lemain’s mood was foul. Alan clicked his tongue.
“Looking at you, no one would guess you’re the guest of honor for the Birthday Festival. Why is your face so haggard again?”
“How can I be at ease when two of my three sons have gone out again?”
His distress was due to the news Raul had delivered just moments before leaving. Franz and Calian had ridden out on horseback, just the two of them, without a single attendant.
Alan, who was admiring the remaining slice of pie as if it were a masterpiece, spoke in a casual tone, as if asking where the pie was from. “Marquis Brissen isn’t that short-sighted. The princes will return with all their parts intact, so don’t worry.”
“Missing parts? I really don’t know what to do with that mouth of yours.”
“Just leave it be. And leave your two sons to it.”
Alan had misjudged the source of Lemain's anxiety. Lemain furrowed his brow. “No. That’s not who I’m worried about.”
The second prince was a skilled swordsman. The third prince would probably be fine even if thrown into the Great Desert. Lemain wasn’t worried about his sons’ safety.
“I’m worried about Marquis Brissen.”
Setting aside the ill-tempered second prince, the third prince was a bit… especially when facing Brissen.
“Calian, who breaks something every single time he encounters Brissen, has gone to meet Evan in person. How could I not worry?”
“They both know better than anyone that it’s not yet time to fight. Stop making excuses and come sit down.”
Alan finally smiled gently, as if he understood, and pointed to the chessboard in front of him. He had suggested a game to ease Lemain’s deep anxiety over Randel, but in the middle of it, Chamberlain Raul had arrived with news of the princes. The moment Lemain heard it, he had walked over to the window and started sighing.
Alan was only two moves away from victory.
Surely Lemain wasn't avoiding the board for that reason. No, he wasn't that sort of person. Even as Alan accused him of making excuses, he chose to believe it wasn’t true.
“Prince Randel will be arriving soon, so…”
Knock, knock.
The knock cut Alan off. Raul’s voice announced that Randel had arrived right on cue.
At those words, Lemain immediately ordered Randel to be let in, as if he had been waiting for this very moment. He then looked at Alan and spoke.
“Since our first prince is here, it’s a pity, but we’ll have to play again next time.”
The hint of amusement in Lemain’s voice must have been Alan’s imagination. Surely, Lemain wouldn’t do such a thing.
* * *
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
An elegant, silver-white horse and a black horse—which clearly believed no one in the world ranked higher than Calian—entered the mansion of Marquis Evan Brissen.
Before long, Evan and Calian met once again.
Of course, Evan had heard about what the two princes had done yesterday. Franz had not informed him of their alliance beforehand, so he was already bewildered when Calian suddenly showed up without warning.
They were past the point of needing pleasantries like “You should have told me you were coming.” Thus, Evan’s very first question was direct.
“What brings the Third Prince here?”
His attitude was quite different from when they had met in the royal palace before Franz joined hands with Calian. This was due to the hostility Calian had shown him back then, as well as his lingering resentment over Calian destroying his gambling den.
Even if Calian's journey was meant to catch Randel's eye, it wasn’t a trip without a purpose. He immediately stated his reason for visiting.
“I heard you returned home yesterday without even attending the evening banquet. Is that correct?”
“Was that something that required the Third Prince’s permission?” Evan asked, his expression openly saying, What does it matter to you?
Calian smiled faintly and turned his head to look at Franz. The thoughtful second prince knew exactly what his role was here. He was currently staring out the window without a word, like a borrowed sack of barley.
Calian turned his gaze back to Evan. “I heard you left the royal palace as soon as the Central Noble Council meeting ended yesterday.”
With neither Suleiman nor Evan at the evening banquet, Lemain must have been quite lonely.
“That is correct. However, that matter has already been reported to the palace, so I have nothing more to say to you about it.”
“Isn’t it strange?”
“What do you mean?”
“That you hurried back like that, when you must have had so many questions about yesterday’s events.”
Evan stared at Calian without answering.
Calian continued, “I left in the middle of yesterday’s gathering with the central nobles. Other nobles aside, shouldn’t the Marquis have wanted to know why? You’re in a position where you must watch every move Brother Randel and I make. Yet you returned home, which I find rather unusual. It’s not as if someone who has embarked on the Path of the Sword would suddenly fall ill.”
“Did you really come all this way just because you were curious about that?”
“If it were only that, I wouldn’t have come.”
Evan nodded as if telling him to go on.
“Even though I announced my alliance with Brother Franz at yesterday’s evening banquet, you remain cooped up in your house. I couldn’t help but be curious.”
Arsen had reported that no one of note had entered or left Evan’s mansion. Evan understood the importance of information; when the gambling den incident occurred, a report had been sent to him immediately. He should have been running around all night to assess the situation, yet he was excessively quiet.
Calian’s red eyes gleamed.
“At this precise moment, when Brother Randel has summoned Margrave Gray Brissen to the capital, you are staying put, as if you can’t afford to leave. To my eyes… it looks as if you returned because you have a matter that prevents you from leaving home for long. As if you’ve hidden something so massive that you can’t even spare a thought for my intentions.”
“That is…”
“So I came to see for myself,” Calian said, cutting him off. “All the way here.”
Evan shut his mouth.
Calian set down the teacup he had just sipped from. “Send Gray Brissen back. Don’t keep him hidden here.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Evan said, his expression unchanged, as if he were hearing this for the first time.
That was all the confirmation Calian needed.
“Even if you persuade the one summoned by Brother Randel to stay by your side, it will be of no help to you, Marquis.”
Evan remained tightly silent. To Calian, that silence was an admission.
Throughout his time in the mansion, Calian had not sensed Gray’s aura. It meant his dantian had not recovered. Of course, Evan, unaware of this, would assume Gray’s martial power had grown stronger. That was why he couldn’t leave his house for more than half a day—lest Gray harbor other intentions. After all, the Brissen family had always been that way.
Giving Evan a moment to think, Calian stared into his eyes with a meaningful expression. “Besides… even if his broken back has healed, he won’t be able to perform as well as before. Though I doubt he had much skill to begin with.”
At this, Evan’s eyebrows shot up.
Franz, who had kept his eyes fixed out the window while listening, also turned his head. It wasn’t because of Calian’s tone.
Evan spoke in a low voice. “I never disclosed that his back was broken. We only announced the Margrave’s condition as ‘a major injury from which recovery is impossible.’ We never shared the details. How do you know that?”
“I would know.”
Clink.
Speaking as if it were obvious, Calian took another sip of tea and set the cup down. Then, in a calm voice, he said, “Because I did it.”
Evan was momentarily speechless. Meanwhile, Franz smirked and turned back toward the window.
Calian’s reason for revealing this was simple: to bind Evan’s hands. So long as Evan remained ignorant of Calian’s true martial strength, he wouldn’t make any rash moves. It would be troublesome if he sided with Randel while Randel and Calian were locked in a power struggle.
Of course, Calian also knew Evan wouldn’t be particularly angry. To the current Evan, Gray was not a son but a young griffin constantly eyeing his position—nothing more, nothing less.
Evan looked as if he were choosing his words. Since there was no need to wait, Calian spoke with a rebuking expression. “You don’t even know what Brother Randel is aiming for by summoning the Margrave. What makes you think you can trust him by your side?”
Having said everything he needed to, Calian stood. He looked down at the still-seated Evan and delivered his final words.
“Do not leave the Margrave’s territory empty. Send him back immediately.”
* * *
After leaving Evan’s house, Calian sat atop Raven with his eyes cast down, not uttering a word. Raven could find his own way back to the palace, and Franz felt no need to initiate a conversation with the pensive Calian. Thus, they returned to the palace entrance in silence.
Stopping Raven at the gate, Calian finally looked at Franz. “I’m going to see Dame Seiren before heading in. You go ahead, Brother.”
The Magic Academy was some distance back along the path they had just traveled. It would have been faster to part ways at Evan’s mansion, but Calian had insisted on riding all the way to the palace gates before turning back. It was his own way of escorting Franz.
Franz was well aware of this, but he simply nodded and entered the palace. Behind him, the clip-clop of Raven’s hooves faded into the distance.
A moment later, Franz stopped his horse, reflecting on what Calian had said.
‘Because I did it.’
“Ha.” A short laugh escaped his lips.
It was none of his business who had broken the back of a man named Gray, whose face he didn’t even know. He laughed because he couldn’t comprehend where that reckless confidence came from—the sheer audacity to say such a thing to Evan’s face.
“I’ve certainly ended up with quite an extraordinary younger brother.”
Murmuring this, Franz urged his horse forward, only to stop again a moment later. Someone was standing ahead, greeting him.
“We meet again, Prince Franz.”
To run into each other once a day in this vast royal palace—was there ever such an ill-fated series of coincidences?
At the sight of the Crown Prince of the neighboring country, who wore a smile that looked exactly like his extraordinary younger brother’s, a corner of Franz’s mouth curled upward.
* * *
Calian, who had no idea that his brother from his past life and his brother from his current life had met again, returned to the palace after briefly meeting Euria to deliver a message.
There was still time before nightfall, so he planned to head to the training ground. He hadn’t been able to train properly in either magic or swordsmanship for the past few days, and if he stayed alone in a quiet room, he would inevitably sink back into memories best left forgotten.
With this in mind, Calian arrived at Chermil Palace and dismounted. He handed Raven’s reins to an attendant and turned around.
At that moment, a long smile spread across his face.
Near the artificial lake, a pair of deep, dark blue eyes were staring intently at him.
He had been planning to visit Randel anyway, but it seemed Randel had been waiting for him instead. Thanks to that, he was spared the trouble of scaling the walls to the fifth floor.
“You must have been impatient,” Calian murmured quietly.
Walking at an unhurried pace, he approached Randel and offered a polite greeting.
Randel merely nodded and walked ahead. Although he said nothing, it was a clear invitation to walk, and Calian did not decline, following behind him.
After passing the statue of Sispanian in the middle of the lake and walking along the lakeside path, they reached the rose garden. Only then did Randel speak.
“Let us walk together for a moment.”
Calian stopped. He was already walking with him. “That’s the kind of thing people say when they want to make a deal.”
“Does a simple request to walk together require a transaction?”
“You don’t mean a literal walk, do you? You mean an alliance.”
“You catch on quickly.”
Calian looked at Randel, a smile on his face whose meaning even Randel could not fathom. “To join hands, one needs more than a background like Tensil. You need tangible power, like the Valkan I command or the Brissens that Brother Franz has. Wouldn't you agree?”
“You are not wrong.”
“You must have spoken because you have something to offer in exchange for what is mine. Am I mistaken?”
“That is not wrong either.”
“Are you thinking of the priests?”
“Yes.”
Calian didn’t even need to bring it up first. Randel had just revealed their identity with his own mouth.
“The thirty priests who came to Kairis. I thought they couldn’t possibly be real priests, so I suspected they were spies or assassins. But it seems they are a force to be reckoned with—powerful enough to be a bargaining chip against Valkan.”
It was a deduction he had pieced together. A group of only thirty, yet a source of strength for Randel. They could scatter across Kairis to act as healers, but when gathered, they would become his sword.
“…Like Holy Knights, for instance.”
The Holy Knights of Tensil.
Randel stopped walking and looked at Calian. Facing his younger brother, who had grown so much that they were now nearly eye-to-eye, he said, “It seems you have grown too much.”
“Don’t talk like that. It almost sounds as if you’ve actually cared for me all this time.”
Calian quietly reached out, pointing toward Rubia Hall, where the envoys and the thirty priests were staying. “Don’t be greedy and try to win me over. And remove your sword from over there immediately.”
Now that he knew Randel was the type of bastard to smuggle his own private army into the palace, any thought of joining hands with him, even in his dreams, had vanished.
“Before I kill them all.”
Calian’s eyes, filled with killing intent, stared into Randel’s, which were as deep as an abyss.