Chapter 216: Never, or Just Once (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 216: Never, or Just Once (1)
A certain thought occasionally crossed Franz’s mind.
Perhaps the real reason Calian had spared his life wasn't so grand after all.
Around the time Calian had set out after Alan, Franz finished his conversation with Chase and went to Wilhelm Hall to meet with Arsen and Kyrie. He ordered them to take turns guarding Hina for the time being, no questions asked. Afterward, he returned to Arpia Palace to see Lemain, who had just concluded his own meeting.
“My little brother has run away again, but surely Your Majesty is used to it by now? Considering the trouble the royal horses go through chasing after Raven each time, perhaps it’s time to lift his grounding order to a reasonable degree.”
After he said this, the thought inevitably returned.
My impossibly busy little brother probably spared me just to have a convenient broom on hand.
“This time, he went to find Count Manasil.”
The highly useful, light-green broom—currently sweeping up everyone else’s messes—spoke, meeting the deep blue eyes filled with worry.
Calian had stirred up Evan, and Calian’s fiancée, Demirea, had turned the place upside down. In the midst of it all, Calian’s master, Alan, had apparently fled.
Lemain, who had just finished cleaning up the mess Demirea had made in the conference room, asked in surprise, “Where could Sir Manasil have gone in such a hurry?”
“He’s likely headed south. It seemed to be important business, so it’s best to pretend you don’t know and leave him be.”
“Did I… do something again?”
Lemain trailed off, not finishing the sentence he had blurted out. He took a sip of his persimmon leaf tea.
After all, Alan was always threatening to pack his bags and head south whenever he couldn't stand Lemain’s frustrating behavior. It was only natural for Lemain to wonder what he had done wrong this time to make Alan actually leave for the southern lands.
However, he couldn’t bring himself to discuss such matters in front of his second son. In the brief moment it took to sip his tea, he tried to recall any recent missteps. So many came to mind that he decided to simply start with self-reflection.
“…I see. Thank you for letting me know.”
“It’s nothing.”
Franz gave a curt reply, drank the tea—which had a scent that wasn’t particularly offensive—and set his cup down. Lemain watched him quietly for a moment before speaking.
“Are you free this evening? If so, let us have dinner with your older brother.”
Randel had not attended Calian’s birthday banquet and had, predictably, been absent from this meeting as well. With Calian away, Lemain saw an opportunity to observe the exceptionally awkward relationship between his first and second sons, speak with Randel, and finally share the news about Freya’s memorial, which the recent chaos had prevented him from doing earlier.
He had asked if Franz was free rather than ordering him to clear his schedule. Franz simply shook his head.
“If you wish to speak with him, it would be better to meet him separately.”
The relationship between him and Randel wasn't something Lemain’s intervention could fix. If the three of them sat together without Calian—who was adept at reading the room and smoothing things over—it would be a painfully silent meal. It would be far better for Lemain to meet Randel alone than to waste a dinner like that.
“Very well. I shall do that.”
Lemain looked at Franz, who offered no further explanation, and lowered his voice slightly.
“Franz. You were not present, so you may not have heard. At the birthday banquet…”
He paused, still struggling with how to broach the subject with Silike’s son.
“You did well.”
I already know.
He had heard everything from Relic, who diligently reported all matters that didn't involve Lennon. Since he also understood why Lemain was hesitating, there was no need to make the king struggle for words.
“Calian must have been very pleased.”
With that, Franz drained the last of his tea and set the cup down. Lemain watched him, remembering how Franz used to refuse even lavender tea, and now he had finished this without a second thought.
“I see.”
Seeing the completely emptied teacup, Lemain nodded.
After exchanging a few more words to conclude their meeting, Franz stood, offered his respects, and left the office.
Relic, who had claimed to be heading for Chermil Palace, was already waiting for him outside.
“Your Highness, are you heading to Wilhelm Hall?”
“Chermil.”
He had spent the entire day in endless discussions and had skipped lunch. A significant amount of time had passed. Since it was late, he decided to leave the matters of Wilhelm Hall to Arsen and rest for the day.
Franz gave his brief reply and started walking out of Arpia Palace, only to freeze.
In the middle of the path, bathed in the long rays of the afternoon sun, sat a silver-white cat with heterochromatic eyes. It was as still as a doll, its eyes closed.
For some reason, it looked as if she had been waiting for him for a very long time. Just like Relic.
“Lucy.”
“Meow!”
As if she had indeed been waiting, Lucy immediately stood at his call and let out a meow in response.
The unfamiliar feeling was strangely welcome.
He was glad to see her front paws tense as she stretched, glad to feel her body lengthen as he picked her up, and glad to see her pink paw pads covered in dirt.
Not caring about the muddy prints stamping his light blue jacket, Franz scooped Lucy up after she finished her stretch and turned toward Chermil Palace.
People, now somewhat accustomed to the sight of the notoriously temperamental Second Prince carrying a cat, simply bowed as he passed.
Relic, following closely, drew a little nearer and spoke cautiously.
“Um… Your Highness. There is something I must tell you.”
It wasn’t to comment on the muddy-pawed cat, of course. In truth, he was about to confess that he had accepted money from Calian.
Yan had told him it was fine, but Relic felt a pang of guilt every time he looked at Franz. He decided it was better to lay everything bare rather than carry the uncomfortable secret forever. Whether Franz grew angry or looked disappointed, he was prepared to apologize unconditionally.
Franz stopped and turned around. “Speak.”
There was still something Relic didn’t quite understand about him.
Franz was quite impatient and cared little for time or place. If something needed to be said, he had to hear it then and there; he wasn’t one for formal, sit-down conversations over tea.
Consequently, standing in an awkward spot between Arpia Palace and Chermil Palace, Relic bowed his head deeply and pulled out the pouch of money while Franz still held the cat.
“Your Highness, actually, I…”
Franz stared down at the pouch for a moment, then turned back around. His usual brief words followed.
“Forget it. I know.”
Without even giving him a chance to apologize, Franz strode ahead. Relic hurried to catch up.
“I’m sorry.”
“I said forget it.”
“Still, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I’ll work harder.”
“Meow! Meow!”
He insisted on apologizing even though Franz had dismissed it. Franz had no idea how Relic could possibly work any harder than he already was, but the boy said it anyway.
With the cat meowing in his arms and Relic chattering behind him, the scene was so chaotic that a soft chuckle escaped Franz’s lips.
“Once we arrive, I will have dinner prepared while you rest, Your Highness. Is there anything you would like to eat?”
“Nothing.”
Since Lemain was dining with Randel, the kitchen would be busy. Having no particular cravings, Franz gave a dismissive reply, but then added after a long pause, “Eat with me.”
Lemain was eating with Randel. Calian would probably catch Alan and eat with him. Together.
“…Y-Yes, sir!”
Feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude, an excited Relic fixed his eyes on Franz’s back as he hurried to keep pace.
“Then I’ll tell them to prepare two servings, Your Highness.”
“Do that.”
“No bell peppers, and make sure the onions are well-cooked, Your Highness!”
Of course, “eating together” did not mean it was acceptable to broadcast his dietary restrictions to the entire palace. The sensitive, bad-tempered Second Prince who carried a cat around couldn’t eat bell peppers or raw onions—and now everyone knew.
“Wait for me, Your Highness!”
And just like that, the annoyance returned.
* * *
A certain thought occasionally crossed Calian’s mind.
That one person’s good fortune could be another’s misfortune.
“No, you have to tell me why you’re doing this! If you just attack me out of the blue, do you think I wouldn’t be startled?”
At dawn that day, Suleiman had been patrolling the northern area outside Siegfried’s outer castle when he caught sight of them: a mage with unique hair and a boy who was simultaneously his disciple, a Sword Master, a prospective son-in-law, and a prince of the kingdom.
Since the two had made no effort to hide themselves, their figures stood out starkly against the dawning sky.
And so, Suleiman, who received the report and happened to have a completely free schedule, immediately galloped his horse up the hill. It was a great stroke of luck for Alan, which made it an equally great misfortune for Suleiman.
Because as the brilliant red sun rose and the sky brightened, Alan’s temper—which had been barely restrained by his beloved son’s words—finally erupted.
Clack!
Recalling the bright red fireball that had vanished into a surging blue aura, Suleiman set down his wine glass with a sharp thud and stared at Alan in utter bewilderment.
“If you wanted to spar, you could have just come to the mansion!”
Calian had intended to return quietly without meeting Suleiman, but now that things had come to this, it couldn’t be helped.
Besides, the fact that they had slipped out of the capital was likely already known. Since Alan wasn’t about to snap Suleiman’s neck, it wouldn’t cause any major issues if they stayed for a chat before heading back, even if Devlan tried to investigate.
So, they ended up renting out a small tavern in the Siegfried territory. As long as the royal palace was guarded by Arsen’s Valkan, neither Hina nor Lemain would be in any immediate danger.
“What on earth is your problem? You’re the one who attacked me first!” Suleiman demanded.
His confusion was understandable. When a friend you hadn’t seen in ages greets you with a fireball more dazzling than the sunrise, demanding an explanation is only natural.
“The problem is that you, you giant bull elephant, are still breathing.”
“I’ve always lived here, so what of it!”
“That’s not what I meant, you foolish elephant.”
Their bickering continued in that vein. Since they hadn’t even bothered with Silent magic, Calian had to step in and mute the area himself.
But that didn’t hide their furious expressions. Thankful they had rented the entire tavern—otherwise, wild rumors would surely be spreading—Calian finally spoke up.
“Stop it, both of you.”
Suleiman had arrived just as Calian was awkwardly trying to say the word “father” again. In response to Alan’s request—“Could you call me that just once more?”—Calian had used the word for the first time in his life, purely in its literal sense. He had been about to force it out again when the Duke interrupted.
Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t entirely good fortune.
Amused by the thought that Alan seemed even angrier now that his moment had been ruined, Calian chuckled softly and intervened again.
“I’m hungry, Master.”
These two had lived more than twice as long as Calian, who had just become a true adult the day before by exercising unprecedented patience. Yet their bickering showed no signs of ending. Having been unable to order anything besides wine while watching them, Calian finally spoke up, unable to take it anymore.
The moment he finished speaking, Alan’s expression softened instantly into a smile.
“Please wait just a moment, Your Highness. I will finish this soon.”
Suleiman’s eyes widened. Does he mean he’s going to end my life? He looked at Alan and demanded to know why he was starving the boy, which only made Alan furious all over again.
“If you had just gone home quietly, I would have fed our Prince before he got hungry! This is all your fault, you elephant!”
“I only came because I thought you were finally delivering my future son-in-law to me, so what do you care?”
“Why on earth would I hand my kid over to you? Am I insane?”
“Why is he your kid? He’s a calf!”
“He is not a calf! Did you just call my precious kid a calf? Do you really want to die?”
“I believe I told you to stop.”
Unable to endure it any longer, Calian spoke again, a bright, beaming smile on his face.
“Is it because I am the weakest, the youngest, and have the most insignificant status here that neither of you is listening to me?”
At his chilling words, the two men finally shut their mouths.
Having successfully silenced them, Calian took charge and ordered various dishes. He focused heavily on meat, meticulously excluding anything green that might remind him of a certain someone.
He glanced briefly at Suleiman, who still looked utterly baffled, before lowering his gaze and tapping his fingers on the table, lost in thought.
A short while later, the dishes arrived—steaming beef stew, raw oysters with lemon sauce, and more.
“Duke Siegfried.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Calian called out to Suleiman. And then he asked, his lips curving into another bright smile.
“Have you ever hunted snakes?”