Chapter 205: Because I Can't Lie (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 205: Because I Can't Lie (5)
A thought suddenly struck Calian.
Perhaps that incredible ice mage, the one who had left him with a phantom pain that still occasionally throbbed in his chest, had been of the 6th Circle.
No, he definitely was.
He had to be.
"Your Highne-ess."
The only reason Arsen had survived long enough under Franz to eventually stand before Bern was because he’d reached a level where he simply couldn't get drunk. Otherwise, he would have drunkenly rambled to Franz before the war even started and been kicked out of the Valkan, had his head chopped off, or had something cut off.
Fortunately, Calian knew Arsen's competence all too well and had no intention of cutting anything off him just yet. Unfortunately, for the exact same reason, he had no intention of letting him leave the Valkan either.
In any case, Calian had sat Arsen down on the steps of Wilhelm Hall and was now sitting right beside him. Anyone who saw a prince sitting on steps that others trod upon would have been utterly appalled, but since no one else was in the hall at this hour, there was no need to worry.
Rumble—
He was also trying his best to ignore the unfamiliar rumbling in his stomach. It was his birthday, yet the first thing he’d seen upon opening his eyes was a Lafrania paper flower, and he hadn't managed to eat a single proper meal all day. Realizing this once more, Calian spoke with an air of resignation.
"Yes. I'm listening."
"You see, Your Highness… I didn't mean to whine this much."
If there was one more fortunate thing to be found, it was that Calian understood perfectly why a man would willingly drink himself into a piece of walking trash. And if there was one more unfortunate thing, it was that Calian was currently hearing this story for the third time.
"I'm glad you're aware, Sir Hertz."
Having endured this ordeal three times now, Calian let out a reply that sounded like a deep sigh and began to count on his fingers who to blame for this moment.
First, the bastard who discovered barley.
Let's start with him.
Then the bastard who planted it, the one who started growing it, the one who grew it so well there were leftovers, the one who wondered what to do with the leftover barley, and finally, the son of a bitch who made alcohol out of it.
Yes. That son of a bitch was the one at fault.
"That's why I've been telling you, Your Highness. I wish you wouldn't throw away what's in your hands just to save me, even if you are the vice-commander."
"I'm not someone without greed or regrets. Why doesn't anyone realize that? And I'm not someone who lives recklessly, but people don't seem to know that either," Calian muttered. Still, he couldn't say he didn't understand Arsen at all. He felt like he might go a little crazy himself after listening to this, but for now, that was his answer.
"But I know you sent me away today because you hated it too, Your Highness, our vice-commander. But the thing is, I can't do anything the way I want, Your Highne-ess."
Arsen just kept rambling on. He wasn't so much having a conversation as he was emptying his head of whatever came to mind, seemingly deaf to anything Calian said. Calian covered his face with one hand and swallowed his words.
Ah… what am I going to do with him…
Who did this to my subordinate?
Who the hell was the bastard who invented beer?
He swallowed a mixture of unspoken thoughts and curses.
"Sir Hertz."
Calian, who had never particularly resented anyone in his life besides Serenti, silently hurled every curse he could think of at the creator of beer before calling out to Arsen.
"I'm not very good at lying, so I get caught up in all sorts of things. But there is one thing people don't really know about me."
The twenty-nine-year-old mage—who had been kicked out after bickering with the second prince, thirteen years his junior; drank with a half-elf knight ten years his junior; and was now drunkenly rambling in front of the third prince, who was fourteen—no, now thirteen years his junior—looked at Calian.
"Actually, I think about it every day. I've resolved countless times not to, but like a bad habit, the same thought comes to me whenever I open my eyes in the morning, whenever I move, whenever I think, and whenever I go to sleep."
Having said that, Calian stared at Arsen for a moment.
Seeing that his face was still clearly out of it, Calian quietly continued.
"I wonder, who am I?"
In front of a man who had lost his mind to alcohol, a man who had lost his mind without it poured out his inner thoughts.
"If someone asks, I answer 'Calian' as if it's the most natural thing in the world. I myself think of it as the obvious answer. But when I stop and truly reflect on it, there are times when I suddenly don't know. Still, like a habit."
It was a habit because it couldn't be easily cured.
Even if he resolved himself against it every single day, the thought would slip in unnoticed, making it an unavoidable part of him.
"On days like this, I sometimes want to see the blue falling stars. I still miss the salty scent of that small sea."
Knowing the drunken Arsen wouldn't remember any of this, Calian continued to speak of things the man could never fully comprehend.
"There are times I wonder if someone like me is even allowed to stand here, if I even have the right. When my mind is in such a turbulent state, who should I think of myself as? Is it really okay for someone like me to consider myself Calian? No matter how much I ponder it, I can't find the answer. And honestly, it's not like I can ask anyone. There would have to be someone else who went through the same thing for me to even ask."
As he spoke of an experience no one else could have had, he recalled an uncommon dream.
—I know. I'm okay.
He let out a silent breath and smiled.
Even in his drunken stupor, Arsen seemed to realize that it was now time to listen. He didn't argue and simply waited for Calian's next words.
"…I told him that I might never find the answer, even in a lifetime, and that I might not be able to fully live his life in his stead. I wanted to reassure him more, but I just couldn't bring myself to lie. But he said it was okay."
Calian gently ran his fingers through his black hair, which felt both foreign and familiar. He stared down at his pale, glowing hands for a moment before speaking again.
"He gave me his permission… but I'm the one who isn't okay. No matter how much I think about it, I can't comprehend how it could possibly be okay. So, I still wonder. Like a habit."
Concluding his story, Calian muttered, "Now, why did I bring this up again?" before speaking as if he had just remembered.
"The debt I owe is too great for me to live without greed or regrets. I have to live, and I have to live well. That's why I must have plenty of greed and plenty of regrets, and why I can't just throw everything away and live recklessly. So, even if it looks like I'm throwing it all away sometimes, I hope you can trust me and know that I haven't given up on life. Is that too much to ask?"
Staring blankly at Calian with eyes clouded by a hazy fog, Arsen grinned foolishly once more. As Calian watched him, debating whether he should hope Arsen remembered this tomorrow or pray for the blessing of oblivion—
"You really are human, Your Highne-ess."
Arsen spoke.
He then raised a finger and pointed it right at the prince's face.
"My master told me, Your Highness. A guy who goes crazy from thinking too much only goes crazy because he's human. He said if I was going to find someone crazier than me to follow, I should find someone who went crazy from thinking too much. So, I reeeally chose the right person. My master is gonna be so-o happy."
Pointing a finger at a prince's face and calling him a crazy bastard. Could anyone but a madman truly out of his mind do such a thing?
Chuckling at the thought, Calian stood up.
He knew from experience that sleeping against the stairs on a midsummer night wouldn't paralyze one's face. So, Calian brushed off his clothes with leisurely movements. Then, looking down at the back of Arsen's neck, which somehow looked bruised, he spoke in a light tone.
"I enjoyed your story, Sir Hertz."
He half-wished Arsen would remember, but if he did, he would probably be kneeling in front of Chermil Palace tomorrow morning with his hands raised and a resignation letter laid out before him. Arsen was the respectable vice-commander of the Valkan; Calian couldn't let him do that.
Thud!
He had to keep putting him to good use for a long, long time.
*
Even though the chef must have been called out late at night, the dedication was impeccable.
A beautifully seared beef steak was topped with a lovely button mushroom sauce reduced in wine. The roasted duck breast paired with fig puree was exquisite, and the buttery aroma wafting from the roasted potatoes was delightful. He almost laughed at the color of the pea soup, but it tasted delicious nonetheless.
"I told you to take a day off at your family home."
Yan smiled warmly as Calian spoke, asking him to convey his thanks to the chef.
"Later. Not today."
Yan hadn't wished Calian a happy birthday even once today. Knowing that Yan had tried his best not to show his concern, but had worried all the same, Calian offered his thanks with an apologetic expression. Feeling as though he had already rested for a day just from those words, Yan left the room, taking Relic with him.
Calian had considered going straight up to the third floor to sleep, but then he remembered what his older brother, sitting across from him, had said: to go clean up Arsen.
The overthinking bastard probably hadn't eaten properly all day, and Calian, whose own thoughts had grown heavy, hadn't eaten either. So, in the end, they were having a meal like this.
Looking at the various dishes laid out on the table, Calian's gaze landed on a stew at the very end, and his expression turned slightly surprised. Since it was obvious what Calian was about to say, Franz spoke first.
"It wasn't me."
Meaning he hadn't ordered it.
Whether that was a lie or not, Calian's mood lifted, and he nodded readily.
"Yes."
He then happily dug into the mussel stew, which was simmered with eggplant and zucchini in a tomato sauce. Since the picky Franz wouldn't eat it anyway, Calian didn't hold back and devoured it all himself.
Franz, who had finished his meal with a bit of roasted duck, a few pieces of well-done steak, and a small salad without bell peppers, stared in disbelief at Calian, who was devouring heaps of shellfish, meat, potatoes, and even honey-preserved chestnuts.
Though Calian had deactivated his aura-concealing magic, he couldn't help how hungry he was. He completely ignored Franz, who was looking at him as if wondering whether he was a human or a beast, and filled his stomach to his heart's content.
Once Calian had finished his satisfying meal, Franz spoke up, just like any other day.
"His Majesty probably paid attention to it."
His tone was casual.
His voice was low, as usual.
"…Since he wouldn't have known."
It was a characteristically brief remark, lacking a proper beginning or end. Hearing it, Calian nodded slightly and replied.
"Yes, probably."
The Lafrania paper flower.
No matter how much he thought about it, Lemain must have been the one behind it, which was why Franz had brought it up.
Calian had said he wouldn't go to extremes by bringing up Renieri, and as the star of the banquet, he wouldn't have had the peace of mind to pay attention to such details himself. Alan, who knew Calian well, wouldn't have been so thoughtless either. So, it had to be Lemain.
It meant that the bull-headed man had only thought about making sure there was no floral scent this time.
Calian stared at Franz for a moment before speaking.
"Were you worried about that?"
No wonder he had looked like a boiled pea all day.
Franz must have been concerned that Calian had received birthday wishes with a lifeless flower because of him.
Whether Franz was thinking of the current Calian or the old Calian, such a gesture would never have been received as a true celebration by either.
"I'm not young enough to lose sleep over something like that."
Then, pointing to an empty plate, Calian spoke again.
"And at my age, I prefer this over flowers."
Seeing the plate scraped clean without a single clam left, Franz stared back with a look that demanded to know exactly how old one had to be to prefer clam stew over flowers.
"I said, it wasn't me," he retorted emphatically.
Even if Calian couldn't lie, it didn't mean he couldn't recognize when someone else was.
"Thank you for the meal. It's all thanks to my brother's thoughtful care."
With that, Calian, who had playfully barked once for his birthday, grinned broadly.