Chapter 197: I'm Going to Raise a Dog (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 197: I'm Going to Raise a Dog (4)
...I already told you. My name is Calian.
Why is everyone so curious about a name from the past?
Let's just move on. Nothing changes just because you know it now. That name is like a wound that's only just scarred over.
I had a lot of scars. Here and there.
I got hurt a lot when I was young.
I mean, there’s no rule that says a prince has to live a sheltered life. You can grow up fighting and causing a little trouble. Some people live one way, and some live another.
When you're just trying to survive, things happen. You get hurt, and sometimes you have to take the long way around.
Why did I save my brother?
If this were a problem that could be solved by drawing a sword, I would have cut you down first.
I didn't get married.
I had a fiancée, but we weren't on the best of terms. We were both busy. And I wasn't even that old. I was younger than you are now.
My brother seems to think I was quite old, but I never saw the need to correct him, so I just let it be. It's more amusing that way.
Alcohol, you ask? Did I like it?
I used to drink, hoping that if I strayed too far, getting drunk would lead me back where I belonged. Soon, it became a habit. I'm not sure you could call that ‘liking’ it.
Anyway, I drank from time to time. Up in high places, with Kyrie. Whenever I got drunk, Kyrie would always carry me on his back. He was much taller than me, so it was quite comfortable.
It was comfortable for me, but... I should have asked if he found it bothersome.
Now, I can't even ask him things like that anymore.
My... my height. I was quite tall.
Probably a bit taller than Kyrie or Master are now. It would be nice if I grew that much this time, too, but there's no telling. His Highness isn't short either, so I might grow to a similar height. Who knows.
My hair was long.
It was the exact same color as the Crown Prince of Secritia's. We looked so similar that I was the only one who grew my hair out. I only meant to grow it a little, but before I knew it, I’d stopped cutting it. Even when tied up, it was long enough to reach my waist.
Ah. And just in case.
I'm only telling you this because it was the condition for you to overlook what I've hidden so far, but I still have a bad feeling about it.
Don't use your curiosity as an excuse to make another bizarre statue like the one last time.
Whether it's of my current appearance or my past one, just don't.
If I see one, I'll smash it to pieces.
No, not the statue.
I mean you, Sir Hertz.
* * *
The exceptionally large door to Randel's room was shut tight.
"Sigh..."
Letting out a deep sigh that had become a habit, Franz walked quickly toward the stairs.
Relic, who didn't know the exact details but was well aware that the two brothers did not get along, quickly followed behind him. Although he hadn't heard a single word of their conversation, one look at Franz's face made it abundantly clear that the atmosphere had been anything but amicable.
Tug!
As if he could no longer stand it, Franz unbuttoned his jacket. By the time he reached the stairs, he had ripped off the chain ornament connecting his collar. He loosened his tie irritably as he descended.
Gradually freeing himself from the things that suffocated him, he made his way down to his room on the fourth floor and stood before the door for a moment. Then, placing a hand on the doorknob, he spoke curtly.
"Leave me be."
The words were directed at Relic.
It meant he didn't want dinner, and he didn't need anyone to help him undress; he just wanted to be left alone. Relic bowed his head slightly without a word. Franz went inside and closed the door behind him.
Staring at the tall, massive door for a moment, Relic spoke to one of the maids who had followed them.
"Inform them that Prince Franz will be having his dinner separately today."
There was likely no one who wouldn't know where that message was headed. It was meant for Calian's side, of course. The maid bowed slightly before walking away.
Turning to glance at Franz's door once more, Relic made his way down to the second floor.
I wonder what kind of tea would be best.
He had already seen Randel's servant bring a warm, melted chocolate drink into the room after Franz had entered. Since that was the complete opposite of Franz's taste, Relic planned to prepare a tea that might bring him some comfort, even though he had been told to leave him alone.
Flower teas were out of the question, and Franz didn't particularly care for strongly scented fruit teas either. After pondering for a long while in front of the various tea leaves and dried fruits in the pantry, Relic prepared some ginger tea preserved in honey and headed back up to the fourth floor.
If the heart is cold, the body must be as well.
Carrying the tea, which he had carefully brewed so it wouldn't be too spicy or too sweet, Relic knocked on the door, fully prepared to receive a mild scolding for entering despite his orders.
"It is Relic, Your Highness. I am coming in for a moment."
Since Franz had made it clear he wanted to be alone, he certainly wouldn't grant permission. So, Relic announced himself and opened the door.
The familiar scentless room. The familiar white marble floor and beige curtains. The familiar sofa of the same color, and the familiar light-green-haired prince leaning back against it with his eyes closed. And sitting opposite him, the familiar black-haired prince.
...Black?
"Ah, it must be ginger."
A beaming face turned toward Relic.
"One cup for me, too, please. With lots of honey. Lots and lots."
He said it with utter naturalness.
Yes, as if...
As if it were his own room and his own servant.
* * *
Click.
While a dazed Relic went out and returned a long while later to set down a cup of ginger tea with lots and lots of honey, Franz remained leaning against the sofa with his eyes closed. Calian, as always, sat with his back straight, lost in thought.
"What is it?"
Just as the door clicked shut behind the departing Relic, Calian opened his mouth, but Franz beat him to it.
Looking at Franz, Calian gave an answer, though it wasn't what he had originally intended to say.
"Vice-Commander Hertz came to see me. It seems the birds went to him when they couldn't find you to deliver their note. As a result, he saw the letter from Crown Prince Chase."
Sticky, bitter, and dry.
Taking a sip of the sharp, sweet ginger tea—a world away from the unpleasant bitterness of thick chocolate—Franz set the cup down and looked at Calian.
"And?"
He was asking if Calian had come all this way just to tell him that Arsen had seen Chase's letter. Calian nodded slightly, took a sip of his sharp and very sweet tea, and spoke again.
"I don't know when my clever brother learned how to wrap bandages, but you can forget about it now. It doesn't matter anymore."
Calian knew that Franz had told Arsen not to question how he knew how to wrap bandages on the day Arsen was injured. He meant that since there was no longer any need to keep Arsen in the dark, Franz didn't have to cover for him anymore.
Staring down at his tea, which smelled more spicy than sweet, Franz let out a dry chuckle.
"Is getting caught so easily something you learned from him?"
He was asking if Calian had learned to be so bad at hiding things from Chase.
Calian hadn't mentioned that Chase was involved, but his listener was Franz; it was enough. The birds wouldn't have sought out Arsen on their own, so Franz immediately understood whose 'mistake' had caused this.
"On the contrary, I believe the problem lies with Vice-Commander Hertz reading something he shouldn't have without permission."
Of course, Calian was the root cause of Arsen reading it, but regardless of Chase's intentions or Franz's presence, this wouldn't have happened if Arsen hadn't looked at the letter's contents.
So, shifting all the blame onto Arsen and forgetting that he had been blaming himself just moments ago, Calian looked at Franz as if to say it was entirely the blue-haired mage's fault.
"There are exactly two people who have sworn to follow me."
Out of nowhere, once again.
He had barged in to confess that Arsen had discovered his identity, and now he was talking about having two followers.
"But both of them did things they shouldn't have today. That's why I'm here."
Calian, speaking in riddles that even Franz found hard to connect, continued with a slight smile. He was taking a long, roundabout way to answer Franz's question of 'What is it?'
"One of them, as I just mentioned, saw something he shouldn't have. And the other..."
As he spoke, Calian pointed a finger at his own ear. At the gesture, Franz's brow furrowed.
"It seems he went to find Relic to ask if you would be training today."
The crazy lackey read a letter he shouldn't have.
And the loyal lackey heard words he shouldn't have.
Because Calian and Franz had unexpectedly sparred, Kyrie had gone to find Relic to ask if his scheduled swordsmanship training would still proceed. Relic was on the fifth floor, Randel and Franz were on the fifth floor, and Kyrie had sharp ears.
As a result, he overheard a bit of the conversation between Randel and Franz. And as always, believing Calian should know everything he heard, he reported it all.
"I didn't know."
That was his reason for coming.
He knew they didn't get along, but he hadn't realized they were at each other's throats to that extent. He was saying that if he had known, it would have been better to put Arsen off and have Franz meet Randel instead.
"I believe I told you I didn't want to."
Setting his teacup down with a clack, Franz spoke. When told to go to the fifth floor, hadn't he said it clearly? That he didn't want to go.
"Usually, people who hate something that much don't say it so nonchalantly."
How was he supposed to know, when Franz had said it with the exact same voice and expression he used when saying he hated bell peppers? He had only understood it as Randel being as bad as bell peppers, or bell peppers being as bad as Randel.
Who could have guessed it was on the level of Renieri?
"Anyway, that's why. I heard you wanted to be alone, so I came."
Instead of offering an apology that would only be rejected, Calian simply said this and pulled out Chase's letter, which he hadn't even properly read yet, and set it down.
Calian knew all too well how isolating oneself could make a person wither away. His gesture meant they might as well get some work done and have a meal together.
"Go away."
He looked at Calian with a face that clearly said, I hate the guy on the third floor and the guy on the fifth floor, so why on earth won't you leave? Calian just beamed back at him.
"I don't want to."
After all, looking at someone you can't stand, venting your irritation, and letting out some anger—that's how you finally catch your breath. That was just how it was.
* * *
He knew the man was crazy.
"So, Sir Bern. Ah, you aren't a knight yet, but you will be soon, so I'll just call you Sir."
But he hadn't known he was a crazy lightweight.
"Anyway, Sir Bern. You see, I did suspect our Prince was hiding something. But, Sir Bern... the Prince..."
After finishing his personal training and washing up, Kyrie had gone to find Relic to ask about Franz's training schedule, only to learn about other matters. Deciding it shouldn't be kept a secret from Calian, he went to find him. Arsen was just leaving, so Kyrie delivered his report and left.
Arsen, who had stepped outside moments earlier, was waiting for Kyrie.
"Do you drink, by any chance?" he had asked.
"Yes."
Kyrie had nodded and given a simple reply. It wasn't that he sought out alcohol, but he had drunk a few times when the gamblers at 'Sispanian's Deep Alcohol Smell' offered it to him.
At that, Arsen brightened and dragged Kyrie out of the royal palace. Without even a moment to explain things to Yan, Kyrie only briefly informed Merlin of the situation before following Arsen.
And then...
"Welcome to the home of Archmage Alan Manasil~!"
They had barged into the empty house of Alan, who had not yet returned. A statue, having identified the visitors, finished a bright and cheerful song and opened the door.
To be honest, this was the first time Kyrie realized that the statue didn't just sing but also served as a gatekeeper.
"Since the magic circle is fully constructed, Dame Grace has returned. Veronica is probably at Dame Grace's house. So, where else could you find a tavern as quiet and safe as the Commander's home right now?"
Alan would undoubtedly know that two men—one with blue hair and one with light-blue hair—had broken into his house. Chuckling at Kyrie, who was looking around warily as if expecting a bolt of lightning to strike, Arsen boldly brought out all the bitter liquor Alan had been hoarding.
"It's fine. The Commander is an accomplice, too, so he won't be able to say much about this."
Reassuring Kyrie in such a casual tone, he began uncorking the bottles.
It didn't take long to realize that Arsen had come to Alan's house with the sole intention of getting completely wasted.
"Do you know how wonderful our Prince is, Sir Bern? When I put him in a carriage, he praised me, and when I destroyed a building, he gave me a raise, Sir Bern! You know it too, don't you? There's no one else in the world as good as him. But, Sir Bern... our Prince... he's so good at wrapping bandages, and he's incredibly skilled with a sword. Yet, our Prince is a mage. And on top of that, he's handsome!"
He had opened all the liquor he brought out, mixed them together, and after drinking just one cup of that tasteless concoction, he had ended up like this.
"So, is there anyone more suited to go to Camillon than our Prince, Sir Bern? He is more than qualified. That's why I sometimes wondered... what kind of whim possessed Serenti to gather all the best things and give them to him? I'm a mage, and even I ended up thinking such things!"
Arsen took another gulp of alcohol and continued.
"But, Sir Bern... I first saw our Prince at the Senyu River. Back then, the Prince got down from his horse. And then, he just kept staring at the Annerusia flowers..."
What was he thinking?
With what thoughts did he look at them?
"He just kept staring blankly at the Annerusia like that..."
As he reached this point, Arsen's head slumped forward.
After mixing all kinds of alcohol, he had fallen asleep after just one cup and a single gulp more.
Staring down at Arsen, Kyrie shook his head and hoisted him onto his back. At that, Arsen, half-opening his eyes, mumbled again.
"He said... he couldn't ask if carrying him on his back was bothersome. Was it bothersome, Sir Bern? Ah... did he say he couldn't ask because Sir Bern wasn't that Bern...?"
And with that, his head slumped again.
Kyrie, briefly contemplating whether he should just snap his neck, let out a deep sigh and walked forward.
Although he knew where the guest room was in Alan's house, he didn't feel like tucking him in nicely, so he carried Arsen to the living room sofa and practically threw him onto it.
He had no idea what possessed Arsen to drag Kyrie of all people along to be his drinking buddy.
"Do you think I would have found it bothersome?"
Whether that Kyrie was this Kyrie or not.
There was no way he would have found it bothersome.
Leaving Arsen with an answer he would never hear, Kyrie walked out of Alan's house.
In the end, he hadn't drunk a single drop.