Chapter 242: That Heart (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 242: That Heart (2)
Calian had always operated on a simple principle.
If he was going to start something, the returns had to be at least double his investment.
Considering the mental energy he poured in and the physical strength he wasted, it was the only way to balance the scales. If he had gained so much from a single cat brooch, what more could be said of an actual cat?
It would convey the apology he found too awkward to speak aloud, and it would teach Franz how to live while protecting something. And on top of that, there was one more thing.
“Since my older brother is so clever…”
Breaking the emerald; Gray visiting Randel on the morning of the memorial ceremony; going further back, Calian putting a tiara-like ornament on Demirea; Evan pulling Lennon out of the fray; Calian sparring with Alan in the forest, and so on.
This was all to keep the clever Franz from dwelling on any single one of them.
Shifting his head slightly to look at the kitten on Franz’s lap, Calian continued, “Since my brother thinks so much, I worried about how a lacking younger brother like me could help. But this worked out well in many ways.”
“You certainly have a poor way with words.”
Calian mentally weighed who had the bigger problem—the one who was terrible with words or the one who barely spoke at all—before shrugging.
“You say the one thing I was confident in is lacking, so I don’t know what to say.”
“You could just say nothing.”
Beaming.
A lovely smile bloomed on his pale face.
“I refuse. I don’t want to.”
After his brief retort, Calian raised a finger and pointed at Franz’s heart.
After all, wasn’t naming Lucy the greatest dilemma of his life? Though Boiled Pea had named her in the end, but still.
“Since your heart is weak, Brother, don’t worry about other things. Just think of a name for the cat.”
Of course, he had already handed over the investigation files on the Crown Prince of Tensil, told Franz to continue the paused verification of Tensil, and vastly increased Valkan’s workload. But still, this was just in case Franz started thinking too much.
To prevent him from clawing at his own heart—the one he had already offered up.
To stop that from happening.
“Decide on a name for the cat, think about what color clothes you should wear from now on, and diligently practice sensing mana if you want to learn the magic to remove cat hair—which has become an urgent matter. And train hard in swordsmanship if you want to raise the cat well when you go out. Just doing that much would be good. For now.”
Franz didn’t answer for a while.
He had an inkling of what Calian was trying to do, so he didn’t dwell on it. He knew Calian intended to keep him safely tucked away while taking another step forward, but this time, Franz couldn’t bring himself to say no.
Instead, he felt a sense of relief that Calian hadn’t named the cat himself. If his younger brother, who scraped together what little sensitivity he had to shower on Hina, had named it, he surely would have called it Nabi.
…Or Apology.
“Fine.”
So for now, he would quietly ponder a name for the cat, just as he was told.
“It’s nice that you’re being so cooperative. It makes things easy.”
“Go.”
“Yes.”
Leaving Franz pinned in place by two cats, Calian, who had another busy day of thinking and moving ahead of him, sprang up from his seat.
Then, with his usual smiling face, he bowed politely and returned to his room through the ever-convenient terrace window.
Staring blankly at the suddenly empty seat opposite him, Franz savored the silence. After another moment, he scooped up a spoonful of pudding and brought it to his mouth.
—I hope you will also learn how to protect something.
The soft, milk-rich pudding tasted of strawberries.
Perhaps catching the sweet scent, the kitten struggled to poke its head over the table. A tiny gray head popped up, but a moment later, Lucy’s front paw, looking like a fluffy white cotton ball, reached up and firmly pushed it back down.
“Meow!”
It was as if she were teaching it, That’s not for you.
Then, she pulled the frustrated kitten back into her embrace and began to lull it to sleep on Franz’s lap—the most comfortable place in the world.
“They’re heavy.”
The sight was so peaceful, yet heavy.
Lovely yet heavy. Cute yet heavy.
With two tiny, breathing, heart-beating creatures on his lap, their weight felt as substantial as a sword.
How strange, that something so small could feel so heavy.
He chuckled at the thought, which drifted in like a cool breeze. Then, something occurred to him, and he let out a short gasp.
“…Ah.”
That damn younger brother.
He’d left without removing the cat hair.
* * *
An egg.
A single egg.
“I was going to buy it for you yesterday, but the banquet ended later than expected. No place was selling eggs.”
Exactly one egg.
“So I bought it as soon as I opened my eyes, Association President.”
“It seems Valkan mages have a hobby of showing up at someone’s house first thing in the morning and dragging them off somewhere.”
Euria, who had once been dragged away in a similar fashion by Alan only to end up with a principal’s position, had now ended up with a single egg.
Staring intently at the white egg with her hard-to-read violet eyes, Euria downed a glass filled to the brim with Himolica in one gulp. She was sitting across from Arsen in a tavern that she couldn’t tell had opened early or hadn’t closed at all.
Regretting that she’d followed him out while still groggy, forgetting to fry Arsen first, Euria swept back her violet hair and frowned.
“Did the Count tell you to buy me an egg?”
“Does the Commander know that I didn’t give you an egg?”
“Yeah. I told him.”
“Why?”
“Just because. Can’t I?”
“No, you can.”
In any case, it seemed Alan hadn’t passed the message to Arsen.
Indeed, if he had, she wouldn’t be sitting here this morning, chugging Himolica with this kid over a single egg.
Sipping carbonated water from across the table, Arsen pointed at the egg.
“Anyway, I bought it for you.”
“Right. You bought it.”
“Yes, an egg.”
“Yeah. An egg.”
Staring blankly at the white egg sitting alone on the table, Euria chuckled.
“You really are a nutcase.”
To think he would actually buy an egg. And exactly one, at that.
The word “nutcase” seemed more familiar to him than his own name, but it didn’t seem to register. Nodding as if it were nothing, the young nutcase looked at the chief nutcase, who was chugging Himolica without any side dishes right before work.
“Have it as a side dish. I’ll ask them to cook it.”
“Leave it.”
“Are you going to eat it raw? We’re at an age where we shouldn’t eat raw things carelessly. I’ll just ask them to cook…”
“Leave it. Before I roast you instead of the egg.”
“Yes. I’ll leave it.”
“I’m going to hatch a chick from it.”
“Pardon?”
“Just leave it.”
“Yes. I’ll leave it.”
Answering politely, Arsen soon stood up. He walked over to a waiter sitting blankly in the distance and said something.
A short while later, instead of Arsen, a golden-brown fried chicken and three roasted potatoes were placed on the table.
Looking warmly at the delicious-smelling food, Arsen said, “Please eat. I won’t freeze it today.”
He then tapped his glass of carbonated water and grinned. Finding his antics hilarious, Euria burst into giggles.
Soon, Euria ate one potato and a piece of fried chicken—which seemed like it would never go down in the morning—with relish, then stood up. Of course, she had also emptied the bottle of Himolica.
“Aren’t you going to eat more?”
“I already had breakfast.”
“You had breakfast and you’re eating again?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I eat when someone buys it for me?”
Answering casually, Euria rummaged through her pockets. Seeing that she was about to pay, Arsen quickly spoke up.
“I’m paying, Association President. I felt bad about forgetting the egg.”
“Forget it. It feels weird eating food bought by someone who doesn’t even get a salary.”
“I might not have a salary, but I have plenty of money. I get an allowance from the Prince.”
“Aren’t you proud.”
At those words, Arsen wore a very proud expression.
“I broke things like I was told and held my ground, so while my salary disappeared, my allowance went up.”
“…You really are the prime specimen of a Kairis mage.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You’re not just a nutcase, you’re an absolute lunatic.”
“Ah. I hear that a lot.”
“Aren’t you proud.”
Replying with words that lacked a shred of sincerity, Euria completely ignored Arsen’s claims of wealth and called the waiter to pay.
“No matter how big your allowance is, don’t brag about money in front of me.”
She didn’t know how much allowance he got from Calian, but could it possibly compare to her, who held three jobs and received three salaries?
Picking up the white egg from the table, Euria tucked it safely into a corner of her small bag connected to her spatial pocket, then stood up and walked out of the tavern.
Arsen quickly followed her out and asked as she looked down at her watch, “Are you very late?”
“Yeah. I have to go right away. Why?”
“It’s just that this is the first time I’ve seen you since returning from the forest, so I’m a bit sad to part so soon.”
“Sad, my foot.”
Wondering if someone who actually felt sad would drag a person out at this hour, Euria glanced at Arsen. He then pointed to the shoulder he had injured in the forest and asked another question.
“By the way, aren’t you going to ask if my shoulder is okay?”
“I can see it’s completely healed, so why waste my breath?”
“Since this is our first meeting since returning, I was curious if you worried about me.”
Euria shut her mouth for a brief moment before replying.
“I did.”
Arsen let out a bright laugh and nodded. “I’m fine, Association President.”
“Right.”
After that reply, she couldn’t think of anything else to say. They stood in silence for a moment, Euria staring at Arsen’s blue hair before finally speaking.
“Next time we meet, buy me flowers. I hate purple flowers, so get another color.”
Everyone always buys purple. So cliché.
Muttering the addition, Euria left Arsen standing there, unable to answer, and boarded the waiting carriage.
“I’m really late. I’m off.”
And with a brief farewell, she rattled away.
The blue mage’s face turned bright red.
Standing quietly as if nailed to the spot until the carriage carrying the violet mage was out of sight, Arsen slowly opened his mouth and muttered to himself.
“…What a relief.”
Ah.
That was almost cliché.
* * *
He liked all kinds of food.
One had to eat well to grow big and strong, so he liked everything.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t that he hated the grass-eater for eating only grass; he just hated how the guy only picked at his greens. He didn’t hate vegetables himself. He just preferred meat.
He liked raw oysters, and he liked sour tangerines.
When he had a lot on his mind, sweet drinks were good. Normally, cold mint tea was best. And when he was sick, bananas were the absolute best.
Strawberries, well, he didn’t particularly enjoy them, but he didn’t hate them either. Although he said he hated coffee, in truth, it was more accurate to say he avoided it. They were similar, but there was a subtle difference.
So, he liked all kinds of food.
Ah, right.
He hated bell peppers.
Correction. He liked all kinds of food except bell peppers. But.
“Grapefruit…”
He hated grapefruit.
Randel must have remembered him frowning after putting grapefruit sorbet in his mouth last time. Knowing that Randel had deliberately served something he didn’t enjoy, Calian decided to just hate it from now on.
“I hate it.”
The sunset, which painted the sky in a desperate, fleeting blaze of color, was captured in his teacup. At Calian’s words, Randel, his eyes cast down, quietly lifted his own teacup.
“Endure it and drink. You shouldn’t be picky.”
“I’m not very good at enduring.”
Replying with a pretty smile, Calian turned his head toward Randel’s servant, Den. Then, with a cold face from which all traces of laughter had vanished, he said, “Bring another tea.”
Randel did not stop his youngest brother from ordering his servant around, a clear act of defiance from start to finish. After briefly observing Randel’s reaction, Den bowed his head and quietly walked out.
He felt sorry for Den, but what could he do?
That man, with his corn-silk hair, was trying to suppress him at every opportunity without revealing his true intentions.
“How did a once-quiet child turn out like this?” Randel asked in a dry voice, watching Calian’s reaction.
“You should say, ‘a child who was said to be quiet,’ Brother Randel.”
“You never lose, do you?”
“I hate losing. Just as much as I hate grapefruit.”
Instead of answering, Randel nodded slightly.
The two stared at each other in silence until Den returned, set down a cup of black tea, and took away the grapefruit tea.
With a click, the door closed, and Randel spoke again.
“It is good to see you often.”
“If you like it so much, come down more often. There are plenty of cats.”
“Do not worry. I do not like it enough to move my own feet.”
“Yes.”
Having been evaluated as someone not worth the trouble of walking down two floors, Calian replied flatly and took a sip of his black tea.
“What have you come to confirm this time?”
“You told me to come cool my head. Did you not think I might have come just for that?”
“No such thought occurred to me.”
Savoring the lingering scent of black tea, Calian nodded. “What did you discuss with Margrave Gray Brissen?”
“I told him not to trust you completely.”
“I told you it would be beneficial to your heart as well, Brother Randel. Did you really have to interfere?”
“Does it matter? He seemed to be someone who fears you anyway.”
After saying this, Randel watched Calian, who chuckled and nodded, for a moment before asking, “Do you truly intend to hand the sword of Brissen to the second prince?”
Calian nodded readily. “Yes. That is what I plan to do.”
“What will you do if the second prince, holding the sword of Brissen, points it at you?”
“Did I not tell you? On the day I said I would show you my back, Brother Randel.”
He was not taking the possibility of Franz’s betrayal into consideration.
Answering the same question Randel had asked on the day they joined hands, Calian added, “I am a bit too busy to worry that far ahead.”
“In that case,” Randel said, tapping the table once. As if determined not to miss Calian’s reaction, he stared deep into the red eyes and asked, “What if I point my sword at you?”
“You will end up in the tower.”
Answering without a moment’s hesitation, Calian’s lips curved into a wide arc.
“I like that you do not hesitate.”
“Is there any reason to? You are someone who truly would point it at me.”
“Yes. That is true.”
The teacup containing the red grapefruit tea was lifted. Staring at it with eyes of the exact opposite color before setting it back down, Randel spoke again.
“But it is a bit disappointing. Between brothers.”
“You speak of uncomfortable things.”
“Do you think so?”
“And it’s a bit late for that.”
Watching Calian return the exact answer Randel had given him last time, an inscrutable smile played on Randel’s lips.
“Indeed, that must be so. For you as well.”
“Yes. However… I truly hope you won’t point it at me. Between brothers.”
“Yes. I shall try.”
“Thank you.”
Having finished their brief, candid conversation, Calian lifted his teacup and returned to the main point.
“By the way, His Majesty likes equestrian performances so much, yet he couldn’t go this year. I am thinking of suggesting that we go out for one now.”
Though it was about someone unwelcome, Randel remained expressionless.
Holding a sip of black tea in his mouth before swallowing, Calian set down his teacup with a click. A voice like black tea—fragrant yet bitter at the end—followed.
“If we do go, I suspect Marquis Brissen will step forward to join us. Whether he will be a companion or an uninvited guest, even I do not know.”
And whether he will leave his sword behind or bring it along, I do not know either.
If the royal family was stepping outside the palace, surely he would join in some way.
“Marquis Brissen is not so foolish as to be unable to tell up from down.”
“Does it matter whether he can tell or not?”
Smiling slightly, Calian continued, “But… I wonder if Margrave Brissen will be able to hear this news.”
Randel stared at Calian’s eyes in silence.
Since Randel seemed to want to know what he was thinking, Calian met his gaze directly.
Did it matter whether Evan intended to attack him or not? Since Gray had already said he would manufacture the evidence, Calian only needed to create the right conditions.
Of course, Calian couldn’t meet with Gray himself, which was why he had come to Randel again—to ask him to convey that the royal family planned to step outside the palace soon.
Before long, Randel spoke in a quiet voice.
“He should be able to hear of it in a day or two.”
“That is a relief.”
It meant he would meet Gray within a day or two and pass along Calian’s intentions.
Calian nodded and smiled.
He smiled because his eldest brother, who was like a half-peeled onion, was commendable for understanding so quickly without needing a long explanation. And he smiled because he was excited to have set a small trap to catch the griffin leader.