Chapter 211: Please Hold Back, Master (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 211: Please Hold Back, Master (1)
Franz paused for a moment.
He did so to properly slip his arms into a thin, pale blue jacket adorned with white embroidered trim and buttons. Relic, who followed close behind to assist, caught sight of two stray strands of Lucy's fur clinging to the fabric and plucked them off with uncanny precision.
Having adjusted his attire, Franz resumed his stride and entered Arpia Palace.
Though he loathed to admit it, coming here always made him tense, wondering if he might run into him. Even so, a vast distance still remained between them.
Leaving behind the knights of Kaera, who recognized him and bowed, Franz walked with steady footsteps into the long corridor on the topmost floor of Arpia Palace. Just as he let out a brief sigh—
"Franz."
The voice belonged to a man Franz wished to see yet dreaded facing; a man whose presence brought him joy yet made him hesitate; a man he understood yet resented, pitied yet found utterly frustrating.
It was Lemain, who had just stepped out of his office for his scheduled duties at Senyu Hall.
Why did he have to place our offices directly opposite each other, forcing me into this complicated headspace every time I come here? Truly, the man never does a single thing to my liking. Pushing the thought aside, Franz offered his respects first.
"I greet His Majesty the King."
Come to think of it, wasn't it ridiculous?
The children of dukes living in the grandest mansions on Einansha Street and even the nameless children in the slums beyond the inner castle all called their sires "Father." Yet he, the king’s own son, was the only one who could never address this man by that title.
That was what suffocated him.
This royal palace, which prevented people from seeing each other as simply human, could not help but feel stifling and cramped, no matter how vast and magnificent it was.
"Is something the matter? You should be at the Noble Council by now."
Pulled from the most useless and inefficient of the endless thoughts running through his mind, Franz raised his head to look at Lemain at the sound of his concerned voice.
Deep blue eyes—the same color as a certain someone on the floor above, who seemed to have been crafted from a collection of everything Franz disliked—were studying him.
Yes.
He wasn't being looked down upon, stared at, or merely glanced at; he was being studied with care.
The day he might grow used to such a clearly worried gaze felt light-years away. Franz hesitated, unsure how to respond. He couldn't exactly say, “My little brother seems to have gotten caught up in something strange again, so I came to see his wizard stepdad to put a stop to it.”
"Ah..."
Seeing Franz hesitate, Lemain seemed to recall something and quickly added, "I only asked because you came without prior notice, and I was worried something might have happened. It is not because I am too busy or inconvenienced. If it is urgent, I can postpone my schedule for a moment..."
He seemed well aware of how often he had said, “I am busy right now,” or “I cannot see you at the moment.” Why else would he make such assumptions and add those words?
Naturally, he hadn't figured this out on his own.
Alan must have been the one to teach him that every single word Lemain spoke, and even every breath he drew, would inevitably sound like thorns to Randel and Franz.
At this rate, it was hard to tell whether Alan was raising Calian's faction or Lemain himself.
"It is nothing urgent. And I do not think I will be able to attend the council meeting today. I apologize."
Thanks to that, Franz was even less able to say, “I didn't come to see you,” and could only offer this vague response. Lemain gazed at his son a moment longer before speaking again.
"Very well, I understand. If it is something you can share here, please do."
Was he trying to force Franz to explicitly state that he had come to see the mage in the office opposite his, rather than the King himself?
Wondering how someone could be so utterly dense, Franz suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape and spoke.
"...One does not gift lifeless flowers on a birthday, Your Majesty."
He just said whatever came to mind.
He threw out the first excuse he could think of to this bull-headed man who stubbornly believed—or wanted to believe—that Franz had come to see him, not Alan.
You made another mistake.
I don't know where you learned the knack for stumbling into the right things by sheer accident, but this time, you've grabbed the wrong thing entirely.
"I appreciate that you were thinking of me, but it did not carry a very good meaning for Calian."
The sigh Franz had suppressed escaped Lemain's lips instead. He had already received a thorough scolding for this earlier.
He had been lectured at length by the mage—whose sharp tongue was matched only by his wisdom, making him impossible to keep at a distance—about whether he had any idea what he had done to his third son on his birthday just to appease his second.
When Lemain had agonized over what to do for his second son's upcoming birthday and asked if he should gift him a lamp decorated with flames—since flames were also called "fire-flowers"—Alan had told him he might as well take those flames and jump into the Senyu River.
At any rate, Lemain, who had been planning to visit his third son to apologize properly, nodded and was about to reply when Franz continued. He could already see exactly what Lemain would be worrying about next.
"You do not need to worry about me. Please just give me what you usually do."
For Franz, this was a remarkably long and sincere statement, and it took Lemain a moment to grasp its meaning. For his own birthday, Franz wanted him to just give him living flowers, as usual.
"I have learned that not all flowers in the world share the same scent, so it is fine."
He couldn't avoid every flower in the world forever, and Hina had taught him that not all of them smelled of Renieri. So, instead of placing a heavy stone over his heart by recalling past wounds whenever the scent of flowers wafted in the coming spring, he was trying to feel a little glad that winter had finally passed.
To do that, he had to learn to welcome the red flowers celebrating his birthday. He was trying to get used to them, step by step. Of course, that didn't mean he could drink lavender tea right away, but still.
"...Very well. I shall do so."
It was unclear if Lemain fully understood the depth of those words, but he answered softly nonetheless.
"Thank you, Franz."
Of course, Lemain failed to say he was sorry this time as well, offering only his gratitude.
* * *
Around the time Calian had just sent Hina back and Franz was speaking with Lemain, far more nobles than those who had attended the dinner at Siegfried Hall gathered at Senyu Hall. An unprecedented number of them had assembled for a mundane Central Noble Council meeting, where the usual number of agendas would be discussed in the usual manner, for only one reason.
"Therefore, Lady Demirea. I must speak with the Third Prince regarding the events of that day. He will surely refuse, but are you not the Third Prince's fiancée?"
They had flocked here upon hearing that Marquis Evan Brissen, who had politely tucked his tail and fled from Calian's birthday banquet, and Demirea Siegfried, the Young Duchess of Siegfried, would both be attending.
After all, they couldn't afford to miss such a spectacle twice.
"...So, I am asking you to convey this message to the Third Prince after today's meeting concludes."
The one addressing Demirea—who had lived barely a fraction of his own lifespan—with a semblance of courtesy was none other than Marquis Evan Brissen.
Demirea stared at Evan for a moment before speaking.
"I shall do so."
Her tone was informal.
The moment the informal speech left Demirea's lips, the onlookers felt another surge of delight at being present. Meanwhile, Evan's eyebrows shot up.
He was about to protest sharply but glanced around. While many of his own faction were present, there were just as many who were not. It would do him no good to react with equal hostility to the discourtesy shown by the young Demirea.
"Lady Demirea. How can you behave so discourteously in a public setting—"
"I am the Young Duchess of Siegfried. I know not where you learned such an insolent form of address."
Suleiman, unable to come to the capital, had temporarily delegated his full authority to her before departing. Furthermore, Demirea was the undisputed successor of Siegfried.
At this moment, within the walls of Senyu Hall, she held the rank of Duke Suleiman himself. In this place, Demirea was undeniably higher in status than Evan.
"An insolent form of address? If you were displeased by a title meant to foster amicable relations and show respect, you could have spoken of it gently. No matter how young you may be."
"It may be respect inside that head of yours, which you seem to wear merely as a thoughtless ornament, but..."
Demirea growled, unleashing her unmasked killing intent directly at Evan.
"If you address me in that manner again, I will consider it an insult to myself, my house, Duke Siegfried, and my fiancé, Prince Calian. And I will respond accordingly. Marquis. Evan. Brissen."
At her low, unyielding voice, Evan's mouth slowly shut, completely at a loss for words.
* * *
—Even if you have grown accustomed to it, there are things that cannot be forgotten. Is it not time to return to your original place and protect it once more? Before that pathetic fool grows any more curious about you.
One did not need to think long to realize that the word "protect" hid an unspoken threat: “From me, your brother.”
Deciding there was no need to dwell on the contents, Alan destroyed the letter on the spot. The paper was not burned, crumpled, or torn; it literally turned to dust before Franz's eyes, vanishing without a trace. Franz did not care how it was done, nor was it the important issue at hand. The real problem lay elsewhere.
"The King of Secritia is a bit..."
Franz stopped himself before he could add, “...insane.” He did so out of consideration that the man was, after all, the biological father of his little brother's previous older brother.
He couldn't believe Chase had actually sent that letter. In the first place, Chase was not the type to speak in such a manner. Judging by the rumors he had gathered, Devlan was the only one who would make such demands of Calian.
And so, whether anyone knew of his complicated state of mind or not, the situation was this: he had intercepted a letter from the father who created the soul of his little brother—a brother he loved and hated in equal measure, finding him more annoying than anyone else in the world. On his way here, he had run into the father who created that brother's physical vessel and spoken to him about that very brother. And now, he was sitting in front of the real father who would actually protect him.
"Thank you for letting me know," Alan merely replied.
The playful curve of his eyes and the gentle smile he usually wore were nowhere to be seen; his face was completely expressionless. At a glance, he seemed carefree, as if he couldn't care less what that bastard said. Yet, he also looked as though he wouldn't be satisfied unless he went to Secritia this very instant and tore someone to shreds.
Not failing to understand those feelings, Franz kept his expression calm as he faced Alan, speaking in a low voice.
"I do not know if he sent this because he truly remembers my brother's past self, but it is clear that something is happening."
Judging by the tone, it certainly sounded as though the sender knew all of Calian's secrets. However, it was a stretch to assume he had regained his "memories" just from that. After all, weren't they a bunch of fools who constantly let secrets slip here and there anyway?
It would not be surprising if the letter had been sent merely to test Calian, after piecing together unbelievable rumors that had leaked from somewhere to form an even more unbelievable hypothesis.
In any case, Devlan was telling Calian to return to Secritia before he revealed his secrets to Lemain. Suppressing his shuddering rage at the shameless tone that treated another nation's prince as his own son, Alan pressed a hand to his temple and spoke.
"I shall pay a visit soon."
To kill him.
To personally slaughter that demonic bastard, who could no longer even be compared to a beast. To kill him in the most horrific and brutal way possible, ensuring he cannot truly die until his final breath, leaving not even a speck of bone dust behind.
That was the meaning behind his words.
"I believe that is my job."
A voice that should not have been heard here offered a brief reply.
The one who had slipped in, hiding his presence even from Alan to interrupt their conversation was, of course, Calian.
Entering Alan's office without a sound, Calian looked at Franz and Alan in turn.
"It seems my carrier pigeon took a wrong turn."
A Secritian spy observing Franz from a distance had grown worried and reported to Arsen that Franz had opened and read a letter meant for Calian before heading to Arpia Palace.
Though he did not know what was happening, Arsen, who had resolved to clear the path ahead for Calian, did not take the message from Secritia's bird lightly. After hearing what had transpired from Arsen, Calian had followed Franz here. He spoke slowly.
"I came here just in case..."
His voice was thoroughly laced with anger.
A voice angrier than ever before at their meddling in his affairs without permission.
"And here you are together. Talking about me."
Hearing that voice, Franz missed his chance to get angry at Calian for calling him a "carrier pigeon."
"Without me."
A voice that brought to mind water resembling moonlight, flowing silently beneath the thick ice of the Northern Great Desert. A voice so freezing cold it seemed capable of extinguishing even the flames held within his own eyes.
To Franz, it sounded like the cry of a whale.
Because it sounded like the cry of a whale trapped beneath thick ice with nowhere left to go, he could not bring himself to be angry.