Chapter 137: Cornerstone of Understanding (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 137: Cornerstone of Understanding (5)
It was as if a piece of the sparkling sky were taking flight.
The sight of dozens of red lights rising slowly toward the heavens caught the eyes of many, including Lemain.
As Lemain removed his glasses and set them down, starting toward the window, Alan, who was sitting across from him, spoke up.
“Don’t look.”
If there was one person who must not know what those lights meant, or for whom those flames were intended, it was Lemain. That was precisely why Alan had come to Lemain’s office and had been waiting for some time.
“They seem to be coming from Chermil Palace.”
At those words, Alan fell silent, and Lemain stared deeply into his eyes.
“What is happening?”
Lemain knew there were things regarding Calian that Alan chose not to share. Still, since Alan never hid or lied about anything Lemain truly needed to know, Lemain had never pried.
Normally, Alan would have brushed it off, saying Calian was probably just playing some prank and to leave him be. But now, he was telling Lemain not to look at all. Naturally, the lights weighed heavily on Lemain’s mind.
Was it simple curiosity that made Lemain, who usually let such things slide, press the issue? Or was it some vague premonition, a stirring of his own blood? Clicking his tongue softly, Alan replied in a low, subdued voice.
“The Third Prince is merely finding his way.”
Hearing this, Lemain stared out the window for a long moment before finally nodding.
“I see.”
“Care for a drink?”
Lemain hadn’t even answered, but Alan was already setting a bottle and glasses on the table. He had brought them beforehand, with no intention of asking for permission.
His mind already troubled by his meeting with Randel that morning, Lemain readily agreed.
“Let’s do that.”
Alan smiled faintly and filled the two glasses. Watching the pale purple liquid fill his glass, Lemain spoke.
“Today, I was deeply reminded of something once again.”
“Of what?”
Lemain picked up the glass before Alan could hand it to him, took a sip, and said, “Of how unwise I have been. That I am fit to be neither a king nor a father.”
What if, when the late king had chosen him as Crown Prince and his older brother had rebelled, he had simply given it all up?
“Why would you…” Knowing that Lemain had met with Randel that morning, Alan’s eyes crinkled deeply as he spoke. “…take this long to realize such an obvious fact?”
Lemain let out a dry chuckle.
Alan would never take his side, not even on his deathbed.
It was precisely because of Alan’s stubborn personality that Lemain had drunk the alcohol without even checking what it was.
Alan glanced out the window. The red glow had already vanished. Calian’s flames must have reached the heavens by now.
“Do not try to undo what has already been done. That would be arrogance.”
“I won’t,” Lemain replied quietly. After draining the rest of his drink, he spoke again. “I, too, must find my way.”
“The day will come when you see it. After all, you have someone lighting the path, and someone speaking to you.”
This time, you will find the right path, Alan thought, a soft smile gracing his lips.
* * *
Come to think of it, it was utterly ridiculous.
The command of the Valkan Mage Corps belonged to Alan, and the Karen and Raon Knight Orders were now under Franz’s control.
For now, Alan was supporting Lemain. And Franz had joined hands with Calian, who wanted Lemain to live a long and healthy life. Thus, neither of them posed a threat to the king.
That was what made it so ridiculous.
Weren’t all of these things supposed to belong to the King in the first place?
“The state of this kingdom is truly…”
He trailed off. Even when talking to himself, it wouldn’t do for a prince to say, ‘This kingdom is a total shitshow.’
So, Calian merely shook his head, submerged in the deep black bathtub.
Whirrr.
The sound of the water temperature regulator kicking in echoed, a sign he had been soaking long enough for the bath to cool. It was proof of how deeply he had been lost in thought.
He had gotten into the bath to clear his cluttered mind, only for his thoughts to drift all the way to Lemain’s precarious lifespan. Calian quickly reined them in, forcing them back to the original problem.
Staring at his wrinkled, waterlogged fingertips, Calian muttered, “To accept the Seal of Oath so readily…”
He already had a mountain of worries.
There was the pebble, the identity of ‘them,’ the Axis of Time and Serenti, Randel’s schemes and hidden power, Aizen’s knight order, the true meaning of ‘good’ that Hina had mentioned, and even what kind of dog he should raise if he ever went to Camillon.
And now, his dear older brother had dumped one more thing on his plate, casually assuming his younger brother would somehow keep him alive.
“Maybe I should just leave him to deal with it himself.”
Seriously, Sispanian.
You should have been a little less considerate.
If something is constricting the heart, it should naturally be resolved by the blessing. Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the power of the blessing you bestowed is bound by the Seal of Oath you created?
“Ha. Honestly.”
He didn’t even have time to indulge in the sentimentality of bidding farewell to the old Calian. He let out a short sigh, venting his frustration at the ancient dragon whose whereabouts were a complete mystery.
“Anyway, I should hear the terms of the contract first.”
Complaining to Sispanian wouldn’t get him anywhere. Since the contract terms had come from Evan’s conveniently portable head, there was bound to be a loophole. He trusted that Franz wouldn’t have accepted the Seal of Oath without one. He would hear the conditions first before worrying any more.
Next, his thoughts turned to Randel.
He didn’t know what Randel and Lemain had discussed, but he doubted it would have much of an impact. Randel would never open his heart to Lemain.
“Did Serenti want me to solve all of this family’s problems?”
Like cleaning up the messes Lemain had made, for instance.
Chuckling at the absurd thought, Calian leaned his head back against the tub and stared at the ceiling. He lay still in the water for a moment before letting out another deep sigh.
“Get out.”
It was that presence again.
Frowning slightly at the stern voice that clearly had zero regard for privacy, Calian spoke.
“Yes.”
If he tells me to get out, I suppose I must.
* * *
He gets along well with cats.
He is on bad terms with Randel.
He hates mint. He can’t eat sour things. He doesn’t care for raw onions. He doesn’t seem to eat much meat. He avoids bread with nuts. He won’t even touch jam or butter.
He eats his greens.
He eats white bread quite often. He eats eggs, too. Milk is so-so, but he’ll drink almost any kind of juice. Unsure about coffee, but he drinks black tea.
He has a sharp tongue but doesn’t swear. Ah, though he does ‘bark.’
He is quick-witted.
He finds talking incredibly bothersome. He doesn’t move much, but he isn’t sluggish. He is a deep thinker. Once he falls into thought, he stays still until he reaches a conclusion.
And surprisingly, he is impatient.
It seems he saved all his consideration for cats.
“Meow!”
‘I am Prince Calian’s cat, but I like Prince Franz better.’
The cat cried out from Franz’s arms. It seemed Franz had come through the door instead of the window this time, brazenly walking in with the cat in tow.
“What brings you here?”
“The terms of the contract.”
“You came at this hour just because you couldn’t wait to tell me about the Seal of Oath? You could have told me at breakfast.”
“I knew you’d be worrying.”
“My curiosity could have waited until morning.”
Calian replied in a dry, flat voice. Leaving his dripping hair as it was, he made no effort to hide his annoyance at the interruption.
Of course, Franz didn’t care in the slightest. Calian let out a silent sigh.
“Tell me.”
“Do not betray Brissen.”
“Yes. And the sub-clauses?”
“None.”
“That’s all he said?”
“Yes.”
When Calian stared at him as if to ask if Evan Brissen had truly said nothing more, Franz smirked. “Because they are arrogant.”
They believed their definition of ‘betrayal’ was the universal standard. Since their judgment was the only one that mattered, they assumed no one would ever make a decision that differed from their own.
“I’m sorry to say this, but…”
They are incredibly stupid.
Calian was about to finish the sentence, but Franz beat him to it.
“I know.”
“Right.”
No wonder he had accepted the Seal of Oath so easily.
If Franz hadn’t made the contract on the spot, Evan would have had time to think it over and would have surely added at least one more sub-clause. That was likely why Franz had agreed immediately—to deny them time to scheme.
A vague and ambiguous condition was far better than a detailed, airtight one. While the ambiguity widened the scope of what they had to be careful of, it drastically decreased the actual probability of triggering the Seal of Oath.
“That’s a relief, then. Better to be safe, even if it’s a bit troublesome.”
Franz nodded, and Calian looked at him. Ignoring the blatant stare that screamed ‘leave if you have nothing more to say,’ Franz continued.
“The knight orders. We should speak to His Majesty.”
“Yes. We should inform him before the orders are handed over to you. In any case, Marquis Brissen will never hand that authority over to His Majesty. So if you take it instead, he won’t be reluctant to accept it.”
“Probably.”
“You should speak to him tomorrow. I can’t leave Chermil Palace until then.” Calian smiled brightly as he spoke. “Besides, unlike my master, I can’t exactly order His Majesty to come and go as I please, can I?”
“And since you were the main actor in this affair from start to finish, it’s only right that you be the one to face him.”
A look similar to the one he wore when drinking mint tea crossed Franz’s face.
It was only natural. Though perhaps not as deep as Randel’s, Franz still harbored resentment toward Lemain. A one-on-one meeting was hardly something he’d be pleased about.
“……Fine.”
A short sigh escaped Franz’s lips.
“Also, I’d like you to meet Sir Hertz with me tomorrow. We need to discuss the details of this matter. What do you think?”
Annoyance flooded Franz’s expression.
Seeing this, Calian smiled.
For once, Franz looked his age.
“Don’t hate it so much. He’s actually quite an interesting person once you get to know him.”
Watching Calian, Franz curled one corner of his mouth. Leaning back against the sofa, he spoke in a languid voice.
“You certainly accepted that crazy mage well, and now you’re even calling him interesting.”
Calian fell silent for a moment, staring at Franz.
“……I believe I told you to stick to making guesses.”
“Isn’t it obvious? Who else would have commanded the Valkan in place of Count Manasil.”
He had figured it out.
Who would have led the Valkan in Alan’s stead. Who would have stopped that person. And what actions that person would have taken.
Who would have dealt and received death.
Calian, who also knew where Arsen’s spear—which had surpassed even Bern’s—had ultimately been pointed, smiled faintly.
“My younger brother… is either incredibly broad-minded or has a very short memory.”
“If I tried to remember every last thing, I’d have far too many grievances to bear.”
Though Calian’s face already looked like that of someone with plenty of grievances, Franz didn’t press the matter. As if changing the subject, Calian spoke as though he had just remembered something.
“Come to think of it, I suppose tomorrow I should go meet someone who is just as aggrieved as I am.”
As he spoke, Calian raised a hand and pointed upward. He was going to meet someone who had been left completely empty, harboring grievances all alone.
Franz stared at Calian in silence before giving a single nod.