Chapter 226: The Sword (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 226: The Sword (4)
He had grown dull.
To become dull meant that what was once sharp had worn down, losing its edge. It implied there was a time when he had been sharper.
– Because my brother has grown very dull.
That was why Franz had been curious.
It wasn't simple curiosity, but a question born from a sense of absurdity—the same kind of absurdity he felt the first time he saw Lucy’s body stretch to impossible lengths while her paws remained planted on the floor.
It was a natural question born from an unnatural sight. Just how long is her body? Did she really catch frogs for Calian? Why does she suddenly start purring when I pet her? It was that kind of curiosity.
'Just what was he like in the past?'
That was the question that had taken root.
If the current Calian had grown dull, as Chase claimed, then what had he been like before? Sharper? More impatient?
Perhaps even more...
When those questions piled up one by one until there was no room left, they had forced that bastard to open the window he kept shut so tight. On that rainy day before the Axis of Time, he had become that other prince—his true self—for the first and last time, pouring out his story.
Then, he had slammed the window shut again.
Both Calian and Franz knew it would never reopen.
But now, a new question had surfaced. The bastard refused to say where he had been last night, and in trying to distract himself with idle thoughts, Franz only found more questions piling up.
'This sword should suffice as the price for your secret.'
The day he had offered the sword with those words.
The day he had gifted it, knowing the original Franz had used it, yet deliberately keeping that fact to himself.
The day he had faced Chase again for the first time.
How did that bastard know what kind of sword the Franz of the past had wielded? How twisted must his mind have been to hand that very same sword to his enemy? So, on that day, had he been Calian, or had he been that other prince? The question returned to him once more.
As Franz continued down this train of thought, he spoke in a low voice.
"I received a sword that is far too good. I won't be having any good dreams tonight."
Would Evan have truly allowed the past Franz to walk the Path of the Sword? No matter how much Franz was of their blood, would they have let him acquire such formidable strength? Did Silike want her tool to possess that kind of power?
No.
There was no way.
Then how did the past Franz obtain such a fine sword? Was it a gift from the Brissens? Would the Franz of that time have meekly accepted it? Would he have cherished and carried a sword for no reason, so much so that a prince from another kingdom would recognize the blade of the King of Kairis?
No.
There was no way.
If so... did the bastard sitting across from him know that the sharp-witted Franz of the present would eventually deduce what it meant for the past Franz to possess such a blade, even when he was absolutely forbidden from walking the Path of the Sword?
No.
There was no way.
If that bastard—the one who was now growing up so well and telling him to raise a cat—had properly remembered what his past self had said so long ago, he would never have mentioned that Franz had originally used that sword. Because he would have known what I would realize.
So, in the end.
"After all, both you and I... are living in a nightmare."
Calian, who had been watching Franz with an expression that screamed what is this grass-head spouting now?, narrowed his eyes. Without a word, he turned his gaze back to the window.
The rainy sky was dark. He couldn’t see outside, only his own red eyes reflected in the glass.
So, in the end, it was all because of this damned rain.
– Isn't it fascinating, brother?
A new memory surfaced, and Calian quietly closed his eyes.
He had realized that even after waking from one nightmare, he was merely trapped in another.
I see.
After all, it's both of us.
* * *
In the meantime, the tiny blisters covering her hands had begun to heal.
Veronica, who had set down three glasses of sparkling water infused with lemon and strawberry, watched the wounds mend with a look of fascination.
Before long, Hina released Demirea’s hand and began to sign.
– Don't overdo it.
She had said the same thing the last time they met. Even then, Demirea's blister-covered hands must have been painful, but she wore the face of someone who would never put down her sword. Hina had told her to rest.
Looking at Demirea’s hands now, they were still in such a state that Hina wondered if she had even bothered to drink the tea she’d been given.
"Still, it is better than before. The blacksmith Prince Calian introduced me to is highly skilled, so I no longer get unnecessary injuries."
It may not have been a fair trade for giving Kyrie the dark-colored sword Demirea was meant to have, but he had at least introduced her to a smith who could forge an excellent replacement.
"It usually takes time to get used to a new sword, but the one he made fits my hand surprisingly well. I was quite astonished."
"Why'd you suddenly come to get treated? I thought you said no last time," Veronica asked, nibbling on a strawberry chocolate cookie she had brought for Hina. In Veronica’s mind, friendship was built on equality, regardless of age or status.
In other words, whether Demirea was a Young Duchess or not, they had met several times, so Veronica felt they could speak comfortably.
"I am scheduled to spar with Prince Calian tomorrow. It is a valuable opportunity to learn, and I did not want to be hindered by something like this."
For Demirea, speaking comfortably meant using honorifics.
The result was a strange scene: the heir to a duchy speaking formally to a count’s granddaughter, who in turn spoke to her informally. But since this wasn't a public setting, it didn't matter. As long as they were both comfortable, that was all that counted.
– I heard from my brother that it was originally scheduled for another day. It seems the date was moved up.
"Yes, it seems..."
Demirea trailed off, falling silent. It would be difficult to say that Prince Calian seemed poised to stir up trouble, not with Veronica also present.
"Grandfather said the Third Prince is probably going to cause some trouble again."
Yet the words came from Veronica's mouth anyway.
Demirea gave a slight nod of agreement. Veronica had been at Wilhelm Hall since morning, as her mother had gone to work in another region, forcing her to skip the Magic Academy.
"That's why Grandfather has been so restless lately. Mom says he worries about the Prince just like he did when Dad was young."
Veronica giggled.
How could she not? It felt like she had gained a young uncle who was only a year older than her.
– It means he cherishes him that much. It's nice to see.
Hina smiled and signed, and Veronica nodded with a beaming grin.
"Yeah. Grandfather looks happy lately. He always takes great care of me and Mom, but he used to think about Dad a lot. I'm glad he doesn't make those sad faces anymore."
At this, Demirea nodded in agreement.
She was reminded of Yan, who was undergoing the same change because of the same person. Yan, too, thought less of the departed these days.
– Aren't you sad about it?
Hina, ever quick to find the hurt, posed the question. She was asking if Veronica felt sad that Alan thought less of Ronil. To Demirea, the words sounded slightly altered, as if asking if she felt sad that Yan was burying the memory of the room at the far right of the second floor deep in his heart.
"I'm not sad. Mom said you have to forget sometimes to keep living. She said that's why she forgets sometimes, too. You have to forget occasionally so you can remember occasionally. That's how you survive."
I am not sad, Demirea thought, echoing the sentiment.
She thought for a moment of her father, whom she was too young to remember well, and her brother—and the person who was now filling that void. Demirea frowned slightly.
Hadn't Yan once told her how Calian regarded Hina?
Demirea had just realized that she was betrothed to a man who had a daughter or granddaughter two years older than him, a niece one year younger than him, and a younger brother two years older than him.
What on earth was this family tree?
Was this the legendary 'dog-mess of a family tree' she had only ever heard stories about?
– Since he's such an important Prince, we'll have to make sure he doesn't get into any trouble.
Lost in her thoughts, Demirea didn't quite register the signs from Hina, who rose from her seat with a bright smile.
– Now that the Young Duchess has been treated, she should go back and practice. And my little sister who skipped the academy should get to studying. I'm going to step out for a bit.
With that, Hina took off her pure white robe. Dressed in a white blouse and a deep navy long skirt, she left the office.
Thinking that Hina looked poised to roll up those long sleeves at any moment, Demirea took an innocent sip of her delicious sparkling water and set the glass down.
"It's raining and quiet. What a lovely day."
She smiled slightly at Veronica, giving her a look that said it was time to study.
* * *
For a while, no words were exchanged.
Though they both thought of a child who was not present, neither dared to say they were reminiscing about him. They were both people who had to forget that child to live, but their reasons for doing so were entirely different.
"Meow."
Lucy, who had crawled into the box that had held Hina's gift, let out a soft mew. It was a small, pretty red box that had contained a tiny outfit for Lucy equipped with a temperature-regulation function—something even Franz didn't have.
Amusingly, Lucy loved the box just as much as the outfit designed to keep her cool. She would wear the clothes, climb into the box, and meow happily.
Unable to throw the box away, Franz had placed it by a sunny window. Whenever he did, Lucy would curl up inside it as if the box were his lap, purring contentedly.
Just like any other leisurely day.
Watching the silent brothers, Lucy curled up in her box and began to doze off.
Wondering whether the box or the clothes had been more important to her, Franz muttered.
"......I am the same."
Taking a sip of his tea, which smelled of both strawberry and mint, Franz looked directly into the red eyes he sometimes forgot he shared.
"My younger brother keeps forgetting."
Calian let out a dry chuckle, thinking how easily Franz switched between those titles.
"Don't forget. I already know how to roll in the ashes, too."
"Yes. It seems you do."
Calian nodded, his answer coming readily.
It was as if he had become the Bern of that time, his entire focus consumed by the snake's venomous fangs. He nodded a few times, recalling what he had forgotten while being chased by Devlan's ghost.
"It would be wonderful if we could delay our trip to Secritia until that day arrives, but he is not the type to sit idly by. It's only right that we go."
Shielding Hina from Devlan's sight and holding out would be the best solution, but Devlan would never wait quietly. Unlike in the past, he would know there were other ways.
"We coaxed the elves once; there's no reason we can't do it twice."
There was no telling how solid the elves' rule of never using healing magic on humans truly was, or if they could resist the tempting bait Devlan would offer.
"If we leave him be and he gets treated by the elves, he'll only become a bigger headache when he recovers."
With those words, Calian closed and opened his eyes.
His red eyes, though the same color, held no trace of the person from moments before. Calian reached for his teacup, then paused.
Tap, tap, tap.
After the habitual sound tapped out a few times, he nodded once more. Then, he opened his mouth to speak to Franz.
– Knock, knock, knock.
After several hesitant taps, a louder knock echoed. Lucy, who had been about to fall asleep, snapped her eyes open and pattered over to the door.
"Come in."
At Franz's permission, the door opened. A visitor whose identity they already knew entered the room.
Calian stopped mid-sentence and looked up from his teacup. Franz set his own cup down. As if by prior agreement, both turned their heads toward Hina.
Seeing the princes, who looked perfectly poised to listen quietly and obediently, Hina bowed first.
Then, without warning, she rolled up her sleeves.
"Hina?"
Calian let out a flustered sound, and Franz blinked slowly. Undeterred, Hina began to sign.
– I am going with the eccentric Vice-Commander and my brother. Just the three of us. If it gets dangerous, the Association President can join us. And even if I can’t fight, I can still speak. So, Your Highnesses will not interfere in my affairs as you please.
Hina’s hands moved with practiced speed, her expression showing she was determined to give them a thorough scolding without holding back.
– Little kids should stay at home.
Whether someone was inside Calian's box or not.
Whether someone had come to Franz's mind or not.
Whether the two of them were walking through some nightmare or not.
Hina didn't know.
And such things weren't very important to Hina anyway.
– Quietly.
The King of Secritia had summoned Kairis's healer.
He used his friendship with the prince and a meeting with the elves as a pretext.
Hina, the one summoned, declared that she would go. In return, she declared that she would not be taking any princes with her.
One bastard born the son of a snake but living as the son of a cow, and another who had been the son of a cow from the start, simply looked at each other.
Then, a chuckle escaped them.