Chapter 107: Behind the Abyss (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 107: Behind the Abyss (2)
That evening, the head of the Tensil delegation sought an audience with Lemain.
It was just before dinner. Lemain had no other appointments scheduled, so it wasn't a visit he would normally refuse, even on such short notice.
"They were turned away."
However, Chamberlain Raul delivered this message.
Lemain had refused to see the delegation's representative, citing a busy schedule.
As Raul delivered the refusal, his expression said it all: Did you think His Majesty is someone you can visit whenever you please?
At that moment, Raul was the chamberlain to Lemain, king of Kairis—the most powerful nation on the continent. He was not merely a servant to the king of an allied nation.
The head of the Tensil delegation flushed red, but with no grounds to protest, he had no choice but to withdraw.
—Due to sudden circumstances in our home country, it has become difficult for the priests to remain in Kairis.
And so, without even catching a glimpse of Lemain, they left only a message of apology and hurriedly departed the royal palace.
Dinner had not even begun.
That was how swiftly they fled.
Walking over to the window, Lemain watched the Tensil carriage leaving the palace, his face devoid of expression.
His aura was so cold it felt as if the office itself had slipped a year back in time, to the man he had been then. He was thinking of Randel, whom he had met just three hours earlier.
‘I have heard nothing out of the ordinary.’
Randel had given that reply when Lemain questioned him about the priests in his office that afternoon. He had said it with a perfectly calm, unbothered expression.
After that meeting, Calian had met with Randel, and now the priests had fled the palace. If Lemain couldn't grasp the implication, he had no right to sit on the throne. It meant Randel knew exactly who those priests were. No—it meant he was deeply involved with them.
"I can't forget the look on Randel's face."
At those words, Alan, who was sitting quietly on the sofa, looked up at Lemain.
"How did Randel become like this?"
"It is because of you, Your Majesty."
Lemain nodded at Alan's characteristically blunt reply. He knew it was true, which was why he was so furious with himself.
Immediately after his meeting with Randel, Calian had gone straight to Arpia Palace.
There, he revealed that the priests' true identities were Holy Knights. Calian had informed Alan first for one simple reason: to protect Lemain from any unforeseen danger.
That was why Alan was now back in Lemain's office. He spoke quietly.
"Have you ever met Elinne's son, Your Majesty?"
"Do you mean the King of Libern?"
"Yes, that is correct."
He was the King of Libern who had gifted Alan a carriage when he left Elinne Libern’s side. It was a sudden, seemingly random remark, but Alan’s words were always worth hearing, so Lemain simply answered calmly.
"I have met the King of Libern, but never the prince."
"He's a real piece of work."
The words were dripping with sarcasm; it was by no means a compliment.
Still unable to grasp his intention, Lemain merely waited for him to continue.
"I don't know if you are aware, but Prince Consort Teian, Elinne's husband, was executed."
"I know."
The execution of Teian was not only the death of a queen’s husband but also an event deeply involving the Archmage Alan Manasil. It was impossible for such news not to have spread across the continent.
To explain the circumstances:
Teian, mistaking Elinne's favor toward Alan for a romantic affair, attempted to poison him. Unable to kill him by force, he chose poison. But by a twist of fate, it was Alan's son who died, not Alan himself. When Elinne discovered Teian was behind the plot, she sentenced him to death without hesitation.
"After that, Elinne's son began to go astray."
Thinking back on it, Alan was inevitably reminded of the son he had tried so hard to forget. He paused, and only after a long silence did he continue.
"In any case, do you know what Elinne did to that boy?"
"I do not."
"She made him clean the house of my daughter-in-law, Rachel, for a month."
"Clean?"
Libern had no other princes or princesses.
She had made her only son and heir perform a servant's duties for an entire month.
"She sent him to the home of the family his father had wronged, forcing him to confront the consequences of Teian's actions. Once the prince understood that his father had not died unjustly, he began to straighten himself out."
"I see. So that's what happened."
"Devlan, for all his heavy-handedness, at least paid attention to his own child. Therefore, it is indeed your fault, Your Majesty, that Prince Randel has become so twisted. That is something you must reflect on."
Alan knew Lemain was already blaming himself. He could see that the king couldn't bring himself to fault Randel, believing the blame was his alone.
Having once again pierced through Lemain's thoughts, Alan continued.
"But a wrong is a wrong, and you must punish him for it. You may not be able to prosecute him legally for lack of evidence, but you can certainly punish him as a father."
Lemain had much yet to learn from Alan.
Looking at the mage—he could no longer tell if Alan was the prince's tutor or his own—Lemain let out a soft chuckle.
Soon, Lemain summoned Chamberlain Raul and ordered him to deliver a message to Randel. The message instructed Randel to reflect on his actions for recklessly bringing foreign knights into the palace and threatening the royal family's safety.
* * *
Deprivation.
Something lacking. Something that was never there to begin with.
Or something lost before one even realized it was gone.
"Raven has a blemish on his ankle. My cat has no name."
Calian's story began just like that. He was sitting on the grass outside the training ground.
His voice, like an autumn breeze entirely unsuited to a season of blooming red roses, drifted through the air.
"Kyrie has different colored eyes, and Hina cannot speak."
The remark was so sudden and random that Franz's face twisted in bewilderment, wondering what on earth his brother was talking about. But Calian simply kept speaking.
"Yan is… Yan."
Calian smiled faintly as he mentioned Yan, whose deficiencies were too numerous to count.
A flicker of irritation crossed Franz's face. He had just finished listening to Chase's lamentations; now he had to endure Calian's.
Calian hadn't even mentioned what happened with Randel. They hadn't met to discuss anything specific in the first place.
Calian had stopped by Arpia Palace after meeting Randel.
Franz had just met with Chase, after which they had amicably walked around Senyu Hall about five times.
Each on their own path, they had simply crossed paths at the training ground.
‘You can't go in. Kyrie's inside.’
The training ground was vast, and Kyrie was always there, so Franz stared at him, questioning why today was any different. Calian explained, ‘Today, he seems to be in a state where he shouldn't be disturbed.’
That was all he said, offering no further explanation. Then, he simply sat on the grass before the training ground and began to tell his hopelessly gloomy story.
Since he'd been told not to enter, Franz couldn't very well force his way in. And Calian was already talking. What else could he do but listen?
"My master lost his son, and you, Your Highness, have lost so much more."
And that man doesn't even know he's already lost his youngest son.
Calian shook his head slowly, swallowing the words as he stared at the brother who had once been his sworn enemy.
"And… my other brother, who has never owned anything and thus has nothing to lose, is probably still unhappy."
"…Have you gone mad?"
An old bruise hurts more than a fresh cut.
Calian's words were just like that, pressing down on Franz's old wounds.
"And since I've lost an entire lifetime…"
After pressing on his brother's wound, he tore open his own, making it impossible for Franz to retort. It was unbelievably petty.
What on earth did that poison-drinking bastard take this time to be spouting such nonsense? Franz's expression was one of pure irritation. Calian let out a dry laugh and spoke again.
"It's true, isn't it? There isn't a single whole soul in this entire palace."
Then, he pointed with his finger toward Chermil Palace behind him.
"What could have made that man feel so wronged that he ended up like that, all alone?"
Since Chermil Palace was the only thing behind them, Franz understood who Calian was talking about without needing to turn his head.
"I don't know why I'm so curious. I feel pity for him, and I feel angry. It's just… strange."
"What happened?"
"Ah. Did I not explain?"
"You haven't."
Knowing that Calian had met with Randel, Franz had simply assumed something unpleasant had occurred.
Calian opened his mouth again and explained what had happened.
Franz's expression stiffened as the story unfolded. By the time Calian mentioned Randel withering the roses with some unknown power, his eyes had turned sharp as daggers.
Having relayed everything, Calian grinned.
"Why don't you just go to Camillon, brother? It's getting a little scary here."
It was impossible to tell if he was joking or serious.
Brushing back his hair, Franz replied, "No."
"Why not? Things are different now."
Why did he still refuse the throne, even now that Silike was no longer around to manipulate him?
Franz quietly raised his head and looked around the palace.
It was silent and desolate. Suffocating.
Turning his gaze to Calian, Franz answered in a low voice.
"…Because I want to live."
Calian stared at Franz for a long moment before letting out a soft laugh.
Franz wanted to live.
What words could possibly be more welcome?
* * *
—As punishment for leaving the dinner with the nobles without permission, Prince Randel has been confined to Chermil for three months.
Such was the plausible excuse delivered outside the palace.
In truth, he was confined because of the Holy Knights from Tensil, but that was a fact that could not be made public.
Consequently, the nobles briefly stirred, whispering that the punishment seemed harsh for merely leaving a dinner, but the matter did not hold their attention for long.
Because Calian caused an even greater stir at the ball, the final event of the festival.
All eyes were on the entrance, waiting to see if Calian would arrive with Franz again. Everyone wanted to confirm if the two princes had truly joined forces.
The wait was not long.
The doors swung open and a knight's voice announced Calian's arrival. In that instant, every noble's gaze snapped toward him.
And every jaw dropped.
As if to meet their expectations, Calian did not enter alone.
"Prince Calian Rain Kairis and…"
But the person at his side was not Franz.
Nor was it Alan Manasil.
It was a figure of immense influence, someone no one could have possibly anticipated.
"Young Duchess Demirea Siegfried."
Demirea stood beside Calian, her bronze curls elegantly braided and pinned, wearing a simple, unadorned dress the color of ash.
This did not signify an engagement.
Demirea was a figure who held power far beyond such things.
The Third Prince, Calian, had just declared his alliance with Siegfried.