Chapter 220: Never, or Just Once (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 220: Never, or Just Once (5)
That day, shortly before night arrived, a series of quiet moments unfolded.
It was around the time Raven—who was undoubtedly smarter than Marquis Evan Brissen—was munching on carrots grown just for him. It was when Lucy, having paid Hina a visit, was receiving well-trimmed dried chicken, and Kyrie, who was with Hina, was getting smacked by a long tail while trying to pet the griffin.
It was when Arianne, having decided to try mint tea, grimaced and angrily demanded why on earth anyone would drink such a thing, while Teilan watched her with a smile, savoring the minty aroma.
And it was right around the time Chase entered Devlan's office, and Franz, having finished his lunch, was working, working, and working.
Clack.
Setting down his teacup with a soft sound, Calian burst into laughter. He paid no mind to Demirea, who sat across from him with a deep frown, as his laughter echoed for quite some time.
"Ah… Sorry for laughing, Demirea."
"I just informed you of Marquis Evan Brissen's insolent behavior, and yet you find it funny?"
When Demirea asked this with a deadpan expression, Calian, who had barely managed to calm himself, burst out laughing again. Even though he had just apologized, he couldn't stop the sound from bubbling up.
"Your Highness…" Yan called out to Calian, who was laughing so hard it seemed he might choke.
If it had been Arsen, or perhaps Franz, they would have looked at Yan instead of asking Calian directly what was so funny. Then, seeing the worry etched on Yan’s face, they would have quietly held their tongues.
Yan slowly shook his head at Demirea, who was not yet accustomed to Calian's laughing fits. Seeing this, Demirea frowned slightly and spoke.
"I did not tell you a funny story. I only told you about an unpleasant experience."
After all, the great Young Duchess of Siegfried was not one to walk on eggshells, worrying about the prince's mood or analyzing his every action.
"Ah, sorry. I laughed too much, didn't I?"
"Yes."
Nor was she one to hide her growing displeasure as Calian's laughter continued.
"I laughed because it's amusing that things went a bit awry."
Demirea frowned once more.
"Laughing because things went awry is one thing, but calling it amusing is also strange. I don't know how to take that."
Demirea was a person who seemed to have handed all her warmth to Yan and taken all the bluntness he lacked in return. Even Kyrie, whom Lucy particularly avoided, wasn't this dry. Wondering how a person could be so blunt, Calian chuckled softly and explained.
"I was just thinking that I might never see Marquis Brissen make a smart move in my entire life."
Piecing together Calian's fragmented words, Demirea asked, "Are you saying that because of me, Marquis Brissen lost his chance to act smartly, which in turn ruined a plan you had set, and you find that amusing?"
"If you say 'because of you,' it sounds like I'm blaming you. That's not what I meant," Calian said, shaking his head at Demirea, who had pieced his words together with near-miraculous accuracy. He added, "I'm not blaming you for what you did in the meeting hall. If I had been treated like that, I would have drawn my sword on the spot, so I think you handled it very calmly. Selling my name was also a good move. That's what my name is there for, so use it as much as you need. It's fine."
At this, Demirea's face took on an expression that said, Why state the obvious?
"I know you wouldn't blame me. That's not why I said it."
Calian laughed again at Demirea's words. She never let anything slide.
"Right."
Demirea had come to Chermil Palace to inform Calian of Evan's desire to meet him, and also to check how things had been resolved with Alan, who had looked ready to unleash his wrath upon Siegfried.
"By the way, did I pay you back for the bananas I ate that day?"
"Yes. You paid for the bananas."
And so, before even resolving those two matters, they began to seriously calculate what to deduct for the value of the name she had used—muttering about ‘dishonor to my fiancé, Prince Calian’—since the cost of protecting him at the Siegfried mansion had not yet been fully paid.
"Then should we consider it even by deducting the room and board my brother used back then?"
"Are you saying you want to deduct all of the Second Prince's room and board just for using my name once?"
"He didn't cost much. I heard he barely even slept. That should be enough."
Demirea chuckled at his attitude of equating the cost of the bananas Calian had devoured after waking from his coma with the expenses incurred by Franz, who had been perfectly conscious.
"Fine. I will calculate it that way."
It was a generosity born from the thought that since there were still so many things she had to collect from Calian—the cost of the shield she had provided, the knights monitoring on his behalf, the search for a Margrave to replace Gray Brissen, the cost of the tiara she wore—she could let this much slide.
As always when Demirea visited, Yan, who sat a seat away in silence, let out a deep sigh with an exasperated look. He seemed highly displeased that they were calculating and bargaining so meticulously when he felt they should be giving their flower-like prince everything he needed without question. Still, he had no intention of interrupting their conversation.
"Right, then that calculation is finished," Calian said, flashing a grin at Yan before returning to the main point. "So you don't know what Marquis Brissen wants to say to me?"
"Yes. He only asked me to convey that he wishes to meet you."
Meeting Evan wasn't difficult. The problem was what had happened because Evan's mouth, which was lighter than Raven's mane, had slipped in the meeting hall.
"I'm very grateful that His Majesty was thinking of me, but… this is tricky."
He needed Evan to try and get rid of him so he could use that as an excuse to strike, but Lemain had taken too firm a stance.
"Without even a scratch to show for it, it looks like the Marquis is going to play it safe again."
Like a spring mole that peeks its head out only to pop right back in.
Taking a sip of sparkling water with lime slices and mint leaves, Calian lowered his eyes in thought for a moment. Then, he spoke to Yan.
"Yan. I want to drink something sweet."
Yan stood up with a smile. "Some wild raspberry syrup just came in. Shall I bring you that?"
"No, I'll just have honey tea. Put in lots of honey."
When he was with Demirea, Calian tried not to order Yan around as a servant. He had never asked for a new drink while leaving his current one unfinished.
"Yes. I'll bring it to you," Yan nodded readily without asking why and stepped outside.
Calian watched his retreating back, only turning his head toward Demirea long after the door had closed.
"Shall we spar tomorrow? If you have time. I need to teach my brother something this evening, so I have to save my aura for that. Tomorrow." The originally promised date was still far off. "Actually, no. Tomorrow I need to see Brother Randel and visit the Margrave. How about the day after tomorrow instead? Demirea, I'll teach you a lot of things."
"What are you thinking?" Demirea asked, her brow furrowing slightly. Calian's sudden mention of sparring was suspicious. "You deliberately sent my brother away, and now you're rushing to set a schedule. Are you saying all this before you've even sorted out your thoughts?"
Calian only offered a bright smile without a clear answer, then brought up another topic. "Ah, and also. Could you find someone to replace the Margrave of Brissen a bit sooner?"
"Your Highness."
Instead of answering, Demirea called his name, pulled something out from her robes, and set it down.
Clack!
The object, which made a fairly loud sound, was a beautiful tiara adorned with rubies and diamonds. It was, of course, the one Calian had given her to make her look like the ‘Crown Prince's fiancée.’
"Hmm. Demirea." Calian looked down at the tiara and spoke playfully. "Are we breaking off our engagement already?"
"I have no interest in being the fiancée of someone who digs his own grave." Demirea, who had finally realized why Calian had laughed and why Yan had tried to stop her from getting annoyed, replied, "You talk of meeting the Margrave, choosing a new Margrave, and suddenly teaching me swordsmanship…"
Saying so, Demirea raised a finger and pointed out the window.
"It seems you intend to take Evan Brissen's head yourself. Isn't it still too early?"
"It's hard to explain in detail, but things got a bit tangled, Demirea. I wanted to wait for Marquis Brissen to dig his own grave, but that doesn't seem likely anymore. And if I just wait around, I have to go hunt a big snake." He didn't mention that he had asked her father for help only to be rejected. "Someone far away is hunting a snake, but they don't really know what kind of snake it is. They might get bitten while trying to peek at it cautiously, so I have to step in. But to do that, I need to untie this troublesome bundle of bamboo shoots first. That's why. The order doesn't matter anyway, and things always go awry, so I'm quite used to it by now."
Giving up on trying to understand Calian's vague words, Demirea simply said what she had to. "Evan Brissen is strong. Just because you can see his aura doesn't mean your swordsmanship is superior, does it? If you touch Evan Brissen, you will die, Your Highness."
"Ah, that's what I used to say all the time," Calian laughed again. "I'm not that weak either. And I won't die."
No matter how reckless Calian could be, he had never intended to throw himself into a blazing fire.
"I don't think the one who made me like this sent me here to die over something like this, so they'll probably keep me alive this time too. They might erase me, but I don't think they'll let me die. Anyway, that's how it is."
Looking at Calian with an expression that asked why he kept talking like her puppy of a brother, Demirea tried to stop him once more.
"Even if you don't die, you will be gravely injured. And even if you aren't injured, you will have to take responsibility for the crime of murdering the Marquis."
That was something Calian already knew. He had weighed it, prepared himself, and calculated that he could handle it.
"If I don't get hurt, I'll go catch the snake. If I get hurt, I can't go. If I get locked up, I can use that as an excuse not to go. My brother will take care of the aftermath, so that's fine too."
She knew that even if she asked what the snake was or what was going on, she wouldn't get an answer. Realizing that further words would be useless, Demirea sighed, giving up on persuading him.
"…I will come the day after tomorrow in the afternoon. But."
Instead of offering more useless warnings, Demirea’s expression hardened. She picked up the tiara from the table and put it back in her robes. Then, with a murderous look, she spoke to Calian.
"If you make my brother go through the same thing again, I will kill you myself, Your Highness."
I get it, so don't say such scary things.
Calian, waiting for his honey tea, replied softly, "Demirea. I have to live well. So don't worry."
* * *
A sour tangerine.
He thought he could smell that green tangerine scent—the one that had made him grimace, the one he could never forget. The forest smelled of deep green grass, but at the tip of his nose, there was the scent of a sour tangerine.
—Go only as far as guessing. Do not be certain.
He remembered the words without a single letter forgotten. The one who had told him not to think any more about the time he had spent alone, handing him a sour tangerine. Those were his words.
—Franz. Because it had nothing to do with you.
Franz was exceptionally sensitive to scents, and he was also exceptionally quick-witted. That was why, at Calian's words that he would teach him something but that he absolutely must not guess the reason, the scent of the sour tangerine immediately came to mind.
Is it because of the same words, or because of the same face?
Franz, staring at Calian's face with a furrowed brow, took a deep breath.
The scent of tangerine still lingered.
"I hope you will just let it slide this time."
That crazy bastard was planning to shoulder something again. He was asking him to let it slide while knowing nothing. While he was debating whether to just listen or say no, Calian spoke again.
"Because I need a good brother who listens to me, not a stubborn one. Right now."
"Keep barking."
Franz, having retorted to the habitual nonsense with his habitual reply, stared at Calian with a furrowed brow. Instead of his usual playful grin, Calian wore a smile that seemed more suited to Alan.
"My little brother…"
What are you thinking? What are you plotting to act like this?
"My name, brother," Calian said, grinning. "Won't you call me by my name? It's more comfortable to hear. Right now."
Ah.
He must have lost his mind. He’s asking me to call his name.
I feel like I know what he's thinking, but since he said I shouldn't know, I decided not to think about it. Anyway, he must have gone crazy again today. That's probably why the scent of sour tangerine is so strong.
The crazy bastard kept barking and barking, and now he was plotting something that would drive even me insane. If so, wouldn't going crazy along with him be my duty as his older brother?
Finishing his brief thoughts, Franz looked at Calian and replied.
"I don't want to."
Whether that guy's patience—which he either didn't have or only had a single drop of—ran dry or not, one side of his lips, the color of Lucy's paw pads, curled up in a long smirk.