Chapter 12: Pleased to Meet You (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 12: Pleased to Meet You (5)
As the banquet reached its peak, an attendant rushed into Siegfried Hall and whispered something to the head chamberlain. The head chamberlain’s face stiffened. He quickly approached Lemain from behind.
"Your Highness."
Lemain glanced back slightly.
With so many prying ears around, the head chamberlain covered his mouth with his hand and whispered as softly as he could.
"I have just been informed that Prince Calian has left the royal palace."
Lemain tilted his head further toward the chamberlain but remained silent. The man continued.
"However, it seems Duke Siegfried vouched for him."
Lemain wracked his brain for any possible connection between Duke Siegfried and Calian, but nothing came to mind. After a brief silence, he replied in a low voice.
"...Understood."
That was all. Lemain turned his head forward again without another word. Taking this as a silent command to drop the matter, the head chamberlain bowed and withdrew.
‘Siegfried, is it?’
Lemain’s eyes narrowed.
* * *
Meanwhile, at that very moment.
Out in the garden, Duke Suleiman’s mouth began to twitch. A moment later, a loud burst of laughter erupted from him.
"Puhahaha! Ahahaha! Puh-hahahaha!"
Even as he tried to stifle it, fits of laughter kept bursting out. After what felt like an eternity, Suleiman wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes, only for his mouth to fall open again as more laughter spilled out instead of words.
Once a man of Siegfried started something—be it laughing or crying—he simply didn't know how to stop.
"Puh... ha. Pfft-hahaha!"
"This is no laughing matter!"
Finally, the person standing before him clamped both hands over Suleiman’s mouth. It was Yan, whispering in a panicked tone, terrified someone might hear.
"My son pulled a stunt using my name. How could I not be in a good mood?" Suleiman said, having finally managed to stop laughing. He looked at Yan, whose curly hair was still unbound.
An expression of pure frustration washed over Yan’s face. In response, Suleiman gave him a look that clearly asked what on earth he was so worried about.
If Calian had seen them, he would have known they were father and son in an instant without needing any explanation. Their expressions mirrored each other perfectly.
"Your prince asked you to stop the guards from chasing him, you invoked the Siegfried name, and the guards backed down. Isn't that enough?"
Suleiman, who seemed genuinely delighted that his son had caused trouble, looked at Yan and spoke as if to reassure him.
"Whether you meant to or not, you handled it perfectly. An excellent solution."
"The real problem starts now. Won't His Highness ask how the Prince and my father know each other?"
"Did you act in such a rush that you didn't think even one step ahead?"
A smile played on Suleiman’s lips. It wasn't a mocking smile, but that of a father watching his son still finding his way.
"Don't worry. He won't ask."
"Pardon?"
"Lemain overthinks things. That's precisely why he can't ask. Far from punishment, he'll let it slide as if nothing happened. Understand?"
Yan furrowed his brow in thought before asking, "Because it's Siegfried?"
Suleiman ruffled Yan’s hair as if to say, You got it.
"Thank goodness you didn't inherit my brains. You're much sharper than I was at your age!"
"As if I'd want to resemble you in any way."
Suleiman was blissfully unaware that his son still believed the prince had learned to ride from a book. He simply chuckled, "True, true," before laughing again as he remembered something.
"Actually, no. You play the violin well. You definitely got that from me!"
Yan was a Siegfried who couldn't wield a sword but could play the violin.
The reason Yan had looked so appalled when he saw Suleiman arrive at the palace earlier was that he had spotted his father, the very man now laughing heartily while selling out his own son.
"The father whose name you so boldly used still has quite a reputation, you know."
Yan flinched. Having cast aside that heavy name to come to the royal palace, he knew its weight all too well.
"If Lemain asks your prince about his relationship with me, he'll get an answer. But once he hears it, there's nothing Lemain can actually do."
If Calian claimed they had no relationship and had received help by chance, it would make Lemain look suspicious of Siegfried's goodwill. The same would be true if he said they did have a connection.
If Lemain punished the prince after hearing that, it would be an insult to Siegfried, who had vouched for him. But if he accepted the answer and did nothing, it would be seen as acknowledging a friendly bond between the prince and Siegfried.
In that case, Marquis Brissen would not be pleased. It was a no-win situation.
"The moment Lemain heard I vouched for the boy, he probably decided to do nothing at all. So your prince just needs to act shamelessly, as if today's outing was planned all along. That's why I said you did well."
Suleiman concluded with a reassuring expression.
"So feel free to use my name from time to time. I can handle that much. Isn't that what fathers are for?"
Yan looked at Suleiman, his expression deeply touched.
Feeling proud under his son's gaze, Suleiman straightened his back and squared his shoulders.
"I'm not nearly as pathetic as you seem to think!"
Of course.
I was a fool to think he was cool for even a second.
Yan clicked his tongue. Pretending not to hear, Suleiman walked over to a garden bench and sat down. Yan followed.
"The palace staff really don't know who I am, right? His Highness and the other royals, too."
"I do have a brain, you know. If they knew, the internal affairs officer would have reported it long ago. I've handled things, so you don't need to worry."
"I suppose so. If even one person knew, Silike would never have allowed me to stay by the Prince's side."
Suleiman smiled warmly and ruffled Yan’s hair once more.
"It helps that my son doesn't look the least bit noble, so no one would ever suspect a thing."
Yan narrowed his eyes and glared at his father.
But Suleiman didn't remove his hand. Looking at the blond curls, identical to his own, he was reminded of ‘Yan,’ the poodle waiting for him back home, and his hand kept moving on its own.
"By the way..."
Yan started to speak but quickly cut himself off.
He had meant to ask about Calian’s recent symptoms but remembered the prince saying it was related to magic. If it was something Suleiman wouldn't know about anyway, there was no point in bringing it up.
Since he couldn't just take back his words, he asked something else instead.
"How is Lea?"
"She's doing well. It was a struggle to keep her from coming with me this time."
Demirea—Yan's younger sister and the young head of House Siegfried. She was not only a master of the sword but also exceptionally clever.
Suleiman lightly clenched and unclenched the fist resting on his knee. He glanced back and forth between his own calloused palm and Yan's hand before asking, "So, how about you? Is life here bearable?"
"How does it look to you, Father?"
"Like you've finally passed a stubborn shit."
Of all the things he could say.
No wonder Mother refuses to come home.
Yan shook his head. Suleiman tilted his head, paused for a moment, and then spoke.
"Still, if you ever feel like living as a young master is better than serving a little kid, you can come back anytime. Lea has taken over the position of young head that you hated so much, after all."
After a brief thought of his sister, Yan recalled Calian.
"He's the same age as Lea."
"Is he?"
"When I first came to the palace with you and saw him, he looked like a dried-up twig. Meanwhile, Lea was like a vibrant, freshly sprouted leaf."
The gentle babble of an artificial stream wound through the garden.
"I felt sorry for him, and it was strange to me that I could feel that way about anyone. That's how it started. But at some point, my heart went out to him, and then I found myself protecting him. Now, I just want to keep watching over him. Because of that, life here is bearable."
"Good. That's enough, then."
Suleiman stared at Yan's face for a moment, then smiled, looking like a man relieved of a heavy burden. Suddenly, he recalled the sight of Calian and Yan conversing so comfortably, and the memory of Calian's first, high-spirited steps.
"That kid... I have a feeling watching him will be very interesting."
Yan’s eyes widened. Seeing his questioning look, Suleiman added, "There's just something about him. Don't worry about it. Anyway, I'm heading back tomorrow, so I don't think I'll see you for a while."
"What are you talking about? We'll see each other in three months."
"Are you really planning to quit then?"
Yan shook his head and gave a simple reply.
"Because he will be turning fifteen soon."
"Ah, right. It's already been that long. Alright, I'll be waiting."
Yan tied his hair back neatly and stood up. His conversation with his father was over; now he would wait for Calian near the main gate.
"Then, I shall see you then, Lord Siegfried."
Slipping back into his role as Calian's attendant, Yan offered a polite bow.
Suleiman made a face of mock disgust and waved him away. Yan smiled and walked off.
* * *
The streets were quiet.
Though the banquet was still in full swing at the palace, the events in the square had long since concluded. People had either returned home or gathered in nearby taverns to savor the lingering excitement. In Hatsuara Square, which had been bustling with crowds all day, only the magic lamps illuminating the fountain now shone brightly.
Clop, clop.
The untimely sound of hooves echoed through the silent square, coming from two horses that had just left the royal palace. At first, they seemed to be heading toward the capital proper, but they soon changed direction and cut across the square.
They belonged to Alan Manasil and Calian.
It was only natural for Calian to pursue Alan, and Alan was well aware that someone was following him. He had no intention of stopping, however, and simply stared straight ahead.
Yet, despite the close distance between them, the rider behind him never called out. The silent, persistent pursuit intrigued him.
Alan glanced back slightly and furrowed his brows.
'Who is that?'
He caught a glimpse of a white cloak. The royal guards did not wear such ornate cloaks.
Only then did Alan realize that the person tailing him was no ordinary knight. He slowed his horse to a halt. The sound of the pursuing hooves subsided as well.
They had reached the center of the square, where the light from the fountain illuminated the surroundings brightly.
Turning his head, Alan was finally able to get a good look at the other person's attire. As he suspected, it was by no means a guard's uniform.
At a glance, the rider was either a noble or royalty.
Soon, the figure dismounted, walked slowly forward, and stood beneath the light to look up at Alan.
Black hair. And red eyes.
Alan had seen the royal family in the square that morning. The third prince, whose face had been displayed on the crystal plate erected in this very spot, was now standing before him.
'What business could that delicate prince have with me?'
A deep curiosity flickered in Alan's eyes.