Chapter 144: The Foundation of Understanding (11)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 144: The Foundation of Understanding (11)
He had forgotten for a moment.
The time Calian had returned the dinner knife, blood dripping from his hand. The time he had confessed, in that impossibly elegant tone, that he was the one who had broken Gray's back. And the moment Franz realized why Calian had collapsed the Heisia Palace.
Hadn't he already come to this conclusion before?
My little brother is a bit out of his mind.
"Well, this is…"
That very same little brother, Calian, spoke with eyes full of utter disbelief. Franz stared back, making no effort to hide his annoyance.
Franz had assumed that after meeting Chase, Calian would find it difficult to face both him and Arsen. He figured that only a madman could sit before them and act perfectly fine.
He should have remembered that Calian was a madman. He had simply forgotten.
"I don't know whether to be more surprised by your silence, Brother, or by your consideration."
Calian spoke with a quiet chuckle.
Franz frowned, reading the look in those red eyes, which seemed to say, It's admirable, but why did you do something so out of character?
This was all because of that mage, who seemed even crazier than his little brother.
Franz had indeed met with Arsen earlier that day and made sure he wouldn't show up for dinner. It had taken every last scrap of his patience to do so. However, Franz had overlooked two problems in the process, which was why Calian was now looking at him like this.
"If you're going to keep barking, then shut your mouth."
The first thing Franz had overlooked was his own tight-lipped nature. He should have told someone that he had stopped Arsen from coming, but he simply couldn't be bothered to waste the words. As a result, the chef, completely in the dark, had diligently prepared a dinner for three, and Calian had arrived ready to attend.
The second was that Calian's thought process was far too abnormal to appreciate such a gesture. Because of this, Calian had insisted on calling Arsen back anyway—and with a completely nonchalant expression, no less. If a deeply disappointed Arsen hadn't taken the money Calian gave him and gone out drinking with the Valkan mages, Calian would have dragged him back by any means necessary.
For this reason, Franz's mood was far from pleasant. But Calian, letting the scolding go in one ear and out the other as always, simply kept barking.
"I'm not as narrow-minded as you think, Brother. There's no reason I couldn't have met Sir Hertz today."
"Was this ever a matter of being narrow-minded?"
Franz, already a man of few words, was rendered completely speechless.
Ultimately, he decided to just let Calian say whatever he wanted. He cleanly dismissed the thirty-odd reasons that flashed through his mind as to why Calian should have wanted to avoid Arsen today.
Whether he noticed Franz's inner turmoil or not, Calian spoke again with a faint smile.
"Still, since you went to all this trouble for me, Brother…"
Franz knew exactly what was coming next: an expression of gratitude.
Predictably, he cut him off.
"Save it."
"Yes, Brother."
At the swift rejection, Calian nodded just as swiftly, tossing his gratitude aside.
He then thanked the chef and the servants, asking them to leave the room. Once they were dismissed, he leisurely reached for the three-person feast. Since about two and a half portions of it would likely end up in his stomach, there was no need to worry about the chef's hard work going to waste.
The only problem was that because this was a formal banquet, the menu had not been tailored to Franz's tastes.
There was duck stew rich with saffron, veal smoked over burning basil, grilled pork tenderloin drizzled with a sweet apple-cinnamon reduction, and lamb heavy with the scent of black pepper.
Calian chuckled as he scanned the dishes.
It couldn't be helped. They couldn't exactly tell the chef that the Second Prince of Kairis—rumored to be savage enough to tear raw meat apart with his bare hands—actually had an appetite closer to self-starvation than mere pickiness.
In the end, Franz found a bland chicken breast salad among the heavily spiced meats, something that looked fit to be shared with the cat named 'I am Prince Calian's cat who likes Prince Franz more.' Seeing this, Calian remarked casually, "If you eat like that, you'll never beat Kyrie."
Calian thought this would get him to stop picking at his food.
Instead, at the mention of Kyrie's name, one corner of Franz's mouth curled upward. Shifting his gaze from the plate, he looked straight into Calian's eyes.
"I'd die before that ever happens."
Calian didn't yet know that Kyrie had bared his killing intent during their spar. Thus, for the first time in a long while, he wore a look of utter confusion.
"Your sharp-eared servant has quite a temper."
Only then did Calian let out a soft "Ah," his expression turning awkward.
It seemed Kyrie, having pieced together the cryptic conversations between Calian and Franz, had finally deduced the events of the past. Kyrie was usually quiet, but Calian knew all too well how he reacted when it came to matters concerning his master. The Kyrie of the past had been the same. He certainly wouldn't have treated a friendly spar as just a spar.
Calian couldn't bring himself to scold Kyrie for it. Even if Kyrie was acting on guesswork without any real memories, Calian understood better than anyone how difficult it was to separate oneself from the past. He also knew that such feelings could never be forced.
"Did that happen? I'll take over the sparring sessions again starting tomorrow."
When Calian opened his mouth to speak on Kyrie's behalf, Franz cut him off.
"Forget it. I don't need an explanation or an apology."
Franz had only mentioned it to let Calian know that Kyrie had figured things out and that they should change sparring partners, not because he resented him.
"Alright," Calian replied simply.
Then, he suddenly burst into laughter. He found it amusing how thoroughly Franz rejected both apologies and gratitude alike.
"You find a lot of things funny, don't you."
"Just because I met Crown Prince Chase and had a day like this, is there any reason I shouldn't laugh? It's amusing, so of course I should."
Franz turned his head to look out the window. Keeping his gaze fixed on the lake and the rose garden beyond it, he asked, "Why did you go to Rubia Hall?"
"Brother Randel has one too."
Calian answered instantly, as if he had been waiting for the question. As he spoke, his pale finger pointed toward Franz's chest, who sat across the table.
His red eyes were filled with a silent reproach for both his brothers.
"…That."
"So my little brother has another life to save, is that it?"
"Yes. And thanks to that, things have gotten a bit busier up here," Calian said, tapping his own temple with the finger that had just been pointing at Franz's heart. "Anyway, Brother Randel's seal is a problem for me to solve. I think it's best if I don't tell you the details."
Franz fell silent for a moment, then leaned back in his chair.
His voice drifted out, low and languid as always, like a weary sigh.
"Why bring up something you have no intention of explaining?"
"I'm telling you this so you can just let it go, knowing there's a reason for his behavior. I was worried you might pick a fight with Brother Randel when you see him. You two don't get along, after all. Not at all."
"Barking again."
Calian, having successfully "barked" twice in one day, laughed.
"I have never told anyone other than my Master about the future. I didn't feel I had the right. But to solve Brother Randel's problem, I have to use the information Crown Prince Chase gave me, and that information isn't from this timeline. That's why I can't tell you, Brother."
Calian added this honest explanation, then concluded, "Because I know you'll figure it out anyway. I'm asking you not to try this time."
If Franz grew curious, he would inevitably piece it all together. If left to his own devices, there was no telling what kind of logical leaps his brilliant mind would make, or what conclusions he would reach.
Franz picked up his water glass. He didn't raise it to drink, however. Instead, he simply traced his thumb repeatedly over the condensation on the cold glass.
Watching the water droplets on the glass vanish beneath his fingertip, Franz spoke.
"Tensil's power structure must be quite complex."
"…And here I was, telling you not to think about it."
Franz had deduced that much just from the mention of Randel's Seal of Oath. Calian stared at him for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.
"My brother really doesn't listen."
"My little brother is far too insolent."
For someone who claimed to find everything so tedious, Franz refused to let Calian have the last word. He likely already understood why Calian couldn't tell him—because he was Franz, after all. Yet, he still probed.
"I'm not going to tell you."
"Can't you at least tell me what you're trying to achieve?"
"Didn't I say I would try to understand? I'm preparing to do just that. You could say I'm laying the foundation of understanding for a harmonious brotherly relationship. Only when I properly understand can I accept it, and only when I accept it can I try to resolve it."
Calian added in a quiet voice, "Whether it's Brother Randel, Kairis, or Serenti. I'm going to start by trying to understand."
"Why on earth would you do that? It has nothing to do with you."
"I'm doing it because it does have to do with me, so you don't need to worry."
A gentle smile played on Calian's lips. His voice softened as he spoke to his meddlesome, guilt-ridden, beloved yet exasperating brother.
"My point is, don't just walk blindly. How can you march forward so fearlessly when you don't even know what lies on a path you cannot see? When I tell you not to interfere, you interfere anyway. When I tell you not to be certain, you find a way to be certain. You really are terribly stubborn."
"You're barking a lot today."
"You can act once you've seen the whole picture and know everything. Even after checking it all, if you still think it's okay, it won't be too late to take that step. So for now, just eat. A balanced meal."
Calian grinned.
It was a warning not to pick the bell peppers out of his chicken breast salad.
*
Someone entirely on his side.
In that short span of time, Calian had gained quite a few allies.
Yet, among them all, who was the one he could lean on unconditionally, rely on without a shred of shame, and who would gladly offer help without ever expecting anything in return?
Someone who would welcome him with open arms no matter what he did or where he went. Someone he believed, without a shadow of a doubt, would still be by his side in the distant future.
The one person who came to mind instantly, without a moment's hesitation.
"Ah…"
Alan Manasil.
"Master."
Having tossed and turned until dawn, Calian had finally fallen asleep, only to be awakened by the sound of Yan's bell.
Beyond the curtains, he saw two figures.
On the sofa sat Alan, and beside him was the cat named 'I am Prince Calian's cat who likes Prince Franz more,' purring softly.
At the sound of Calian's voice, the cat, which had been lazily lounging against Alan's leg, picked itself up. Then, as if it had never been purring in the first place, it dashed out the door. Rather than staying with Calian—who was greeting the owner of the leg it had just been leaning on—it was off to find the person it liked even more.
Watching the cat go, Calian turned to Alan, a bright smile blooming on his face.
"You're here, Master."
He was exceptionally glad to see him. He was always happy to see Alan, but today, the feeling was overwhelming.
Even though the curtains blocked Calian's smile from view, Alan smiled back as he spoke.
"I've let myself in again without permission."
"Not at all. You are welcome anytime, Master."
Truly, as long as it was Alan, he would always be welcome.
Alan, receiving such a warm welcome, detected the faint exhaustion lingering at the edge of Calian's voice. In truth, he had come precisely because he anticipated this. He didn't need to ask how Calian was feeling, so he chose different words instead.
"Don't bottle it all up."
Seeing his master offer comfort the moment they exchanged greetings, Calian smiled again.
"Let's get some fresh air, Master."
Although the main gate of the royal palace wasn't visible from Chermil Palace, still…
With that thought, Calian stepped out onto the terrace and took a seat.
Before long, Yan set down the mint tea and milk tea and withdrew. Ever since Calian had developed an aversion to coffee, Yan had made it a point to brew Calian's tea himself. The tea brewed with all the devotion of his "baby elephant" always tasted unique. And it was always delicious.
Sitting side by side with Calian across the table, Alan snapped his fingers. A cozy warmth instantly enveloped the terrace, and Calian let out an involuntary chuckle. He wouldn't feel the cold even if he were to stand in the Great Desert in the dead of winter, which made this magical warmth feel all the more tender.
In front of Yan, Calian was always the picture-perfect prince; in front of Alan, he was simply a cherished disciple. He had always loved that.
"You don't actually need to snap your fingers, do you?" Calian asked, feeling a bit self-conscious about his laughter. He had always been curious but had never found the right moment to ask why Alan always made that crisp sound when he cast magic.
Alan nodded, his gaze drifting to the lake beyond the terrace.
Just as that lake represented the Senyu River and its floating Annerusia flowers to the Calian of the past, it held the same meaning for Alan. It was the perfect view for remembering those who had departed.
"When I was practicing silent casting, someone suggested I try it. They said it would replace the incantation and look quite stylish. It became a habit, and here we are."
A smile steeped in nostalgia touched Alan's face. Calian did not ask who that person had been. He, too, had learned how to wear that exact same smile.
"They gave you excellent advice. It does look very stylish," Calian simply said with a nod.
On the day Calian's skeletal hand, desperate to survive, had reached out and grasped Alan instead of Lemain—Alan had taken in this boy, who could be neither Lemain's son nor Devlan's.
In every way that mattered, Calian was Alan's son.
Both Alan and Calian knew this now.
That was why the worry on Alan's face when he visited Calian this morning refused to fade. And that was why the smile on Calian's face as he looked at Alan remained so steadfast.
"…I've told them to send less sour tangerines next time. I know you'll just eat them all in one sitting again."
"Why would you do that? Tangerines are supposed to be sour to taste good."
"You should share some with this old man. Why must you keep all those sour things to yourself?"
Whether he meant the tangerines, or the bitter, sour sorrow…
At the mage's gentle plea not to shoulder it all alone, Calian gave a small nod.
And so, they chatted softly.
While Chase, having finished his breakfast with Lemain, paused to gaze at Chermil Palace in the distance. While the carriage carrying Chase passed through the palace gates and onto the streets of the capital. Until Chase crossed the square and finally passed through the outer gates of Kairisis.
The quiet conversation between the eloquent master and the disciple who preferred to listen went on and on.
In low, quiet murmurs.