Chapter 262: To See the Sea (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 262: To See the Sea (2)
He had read one move but missed another.
He’d locked the window while taking a shower. Just in case, he had even kept his ring on while he washed.
During their sparring session, Franz had stared intently at the ring. It was so obvious what was going through that head of his—which resembled an unripe kiwi—that Calian had made sure to lock the window. He had shut it tight and secured the latch.
“Why on earth is he so curious about that?”
Franz’s behavior was infuriating. He had seen with his own eyes how Kyrie nearly drove a sword through Calian’s heart, yet instead of getting angry, he’d shown no curiosity as to why his younger brother’s attendant would attack him. He had simply brushed it off.
Granted, Franz was in a better state of mind now, but back then, he had lived with absolutely no attachment to life. Calian hadn’t expected him to get angry at Kyrie in the first place. Instead, Calian had urged him to show some curiosity about anything, only for his older brother to fixate on something completely unexpected.
—So, what does it mean? My name.
Having barely recovered from his weak heart, Franz had started bringing up the question again.
For the past five days, whenever their eyes met, Franz would flash those vibrant green eyes and ask what his name meant, to the point where Calian was utterly sick of it. In terms of sheer persistence, he was easily on par with—if not worse than—Lucy trying to catch raindrops splattering against a window.
Yet, even if Calian wanted to make up a plausible excuse, his cursed mouth refused to tell a lie, a fact that was nightmarish enough on its own. It seemed that along with curiosity, Franz had somehow picked up stubbornness as well.
“Where in the palace did he even learn such a thing?”
He had absolutely no idea.
As he lamented where in this desolate royal palace Franz could have possibly learned such behavior…
“…It’s me. It must have been me. Who else could it be? There’s no one else. I must have taught him. It’s me. Right, I did this.”
Calian muttered quietly to himself as he lightly circulated his mana to dry the water from his pitch-black hair and put on the clothes the maids had left out for him.
His gaze fell upon the ring he had almost lost.
Still, he found it amusing that he felt relieved simply because Franz’s intentions were so transparent. Shaking his head, Calian felt a complicated mix of feelings stirring within him.
“My older brother’s thoughts are so wonderfully predictable.”
He chuckled as he said this.
He had absolutely no idea what kind of scheme the turbulent pea—who, still in the throes of puberty, had not forgotten his firm resolve to never listen to a word Calian said—was planning for tomorrow.
Thus, having read one of Franz’s minor plans but missed his grand scheme, Calian, still unaware of what he had overlooked, spoke toward the door.
“Tell her to come in.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Yan’s voice, waiting outside, responded immediately, and the door opened with a soft creak. Eila entered, dressed in slightly more comfortable attire than on her first day.
“Welcome, Eila.”
She wore clothes in a color she undoubtedly favored for the same reason he did. She was clad in a matte black leather jacket and trousers—a color that, in a way, seemed not to suit her at all, yet it was hard to imagine any other color fitting her better.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“A little.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t wash in peace because I had to keep an eye on the resident upstairs. Have you been resting well?”
Recalling the buttery lobster she had enjoyed, Eila replied lightly.
“Yes. For the first time in a long while.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Yan—who, true to form, showed absolutely no curiosity about Eila’s identity—entered, set down two cups of tea, and left.
Having finished their greetings, Eila merely stared down at her citrus-scented black tea, offering no further words.
She was always like this.
Eila was not a naturally talkative person. Her sociability had always been a professional necessity. Thus, her current quietness was quite welcome to Calian.
“You must feel a bit more comfortable around me, seeing how quiet you’ve become.”
Staring at Calian without a word, Eila let out a short sigh and replied, “I need time to adjust to how well you know me. Please understand if I look at you strangely from time to time.”
“I understand. I have for a long time.”
To explain it now, in a way, Eila had “caught” him too.
Because of this, he might have recalled Demirea, to whom he had promised to live without letting any more of his secrets be discovered, and blamed himself for breaking that promise. But Calian did not.
Strictly speaking, Eila had caught him a year ago. It was right after Franz had caught on, long before he made his promise to Demirea.
Thus, Calian had already shaken off any guilt toward Demirea five days ago. He didn’t have a guilt-ridden personality like a certain someone living upstairs.
“It took me a long time to adapt to my own changes without being surprised, so it’s fine,” he said.
In truth, even Calian couldn’t say for sure whether he had fully adapted, but he was certainly much better off than before. At any rate, if it took him that long to adjust, how much harder must it be for others? It was only because Kyrie was so easygoing that he could deal with Calian knowing everything about him without batting an eye.
“Why did you call for me?” Eila asked.
“I have something to give you. It took a bit longer than expected, though.”
Replying briefly, Calian pointed to what he had placed beside the table.
A piece of parchment and a sheet of paper.
Picking up the paper first, Eila quickly scanned the few lines written on it and let out a short chuckle.
“You really do know me well.”
—Deceased Identification: Eila Verdandi.
At Eila’s brief remark as she held the paper bearing her real name and surname, Calian nodded in response.
“I told you, I don’t lie.”
“Though it’s a bit unpleasant to read that I was supposedly killed by Evan.”
“I didn’t make it to make you feel good, so don’t complain.”
It was, quite literally, a death certificate. The document stated that Eila’s identity had been confirmed among the bodies of several spies found alongside Evan.
“Seeing how well you forge documents… I thought you were an honest prince, but I guess that’s not entirely true.”
“Just because I can’t bring myself to tell a lie doesn’t mean I don’t know how to make use of one.”
“And yet, such a person was ready to send me to the gallows without a shred of mercy.”
“I’m not the type to hold onto a useless card.”
“Then I wonder how you can trust me now and consider me a useful card.”
“I’m not so cold-hearted as to discard a card that already considers itself one of my people.”
Eila fell silent, her brow furrowing.
Since she was clearly recalling how she had introduced herself to Veronica as “one of the 3rd Prince’s people,” Calian smiled brightly and spoke again.
“Don’t suspect Veronica. It’s just that my sword, who went to fetch you, has very sharp ears and tends to pick up on things.”
Recalling the tall knight who had arrived long after she had spoken those words to Veronica, Eila’s lips tensed slightly. She resolved to speak even less in the future.
“I have no hobby of invading the privacy of my people, so don’t worry. Check the rest.”
Calian, who spoke with a smile as if his definition of a subordinate’s “privacy” was rather narrow, pointed to the parchment on the table.
After looking displeased for a moment, Eila picked up the parchment and unrolled it.
—Eila Bridget
Seeing the same name with only a different surname, Eila spoke.
“You might as well have just written ‘Blue Warbler’.”
Calian let out a soft, amused chuckle. She was pointing out how a mere identification document, claiming she was a twenty-one-year-old commoner born and raised in the Whitrin territory—which belonged to Calian—could ever truly hide her real identity.
“Even if you died, the King of Secritia wouldn’t believe it. He would never believe it unless your corpse was laid right before his eyes. In that case, it’s better to openly declare you as one of my people so he can’t touch you carelessly.”
“If that was your intention, then why the surname… No, never mind.”
Eila swallowed her question.
“There’s no need to keep using a surname given to you by the King of Secritia.”
“Yes. I understand.”
Letting out a short sigh as she looked at the 3rd Prince, who seemed to know absolutely everything, Eila asked, “What should I do now?”
“I won’t be around for a while. I’ve already informed my teacher, so stay in the palace. While you’re here, there’s someone I need you to escort. Her usual guards seem too busy lately.”
Recalling a certain face that had once looked upon Eila’s pure white carrier pigeon with delight, Calian smiled warmly and continued, “Once I return, I’ll have you resume your original work instead of escorting, so think about the people you need to summon and what resources you’ll require.”
“Do you mean espionage?”
“Intelligence, rather than espionage. I need proper information gathered through more efficient methods, not just picking up rumors or wasting highly skilled personnel.”
Understanding that Calian intended to assign her to escort duty during his absence and then have her run intelligence operations upon his return, Eila narrowed her eyes.
“May I ask one thing?”
Calian nodded.
“You haven’t asked me a single thing about what happened in Secritia, what the King of Secritia ordered me to do, or any other information I might possess. I’m curious as to why.”
“The King of Secritia’s bird is already dead. What would I even need to ask you?”
“…Are you saying you treat me this way and ask nothing because you trust me?”
“If I didn’t trust you, you would have died the moment you stepped onto my terrace. That’s not a place just anyone can tread.”
He then pointed somewhere outside the window and continued, “And unlike a certain someone in Secritia, I have no hobby of doubting others.”
Eila, who must have suffered under a highly suspicious person until now, let out a dry laugh. She felt that this was the most pleasing thing she had heard so far.
“Very well. Who am I to escort?”
At her question, accompanied by a nod, a gentle smile—one he had never shown before—spread across Calian’s face.
Staring down at his teacup with that smile for a moment, Calian answered quietly.
“The reason for my life.”
She was like a lit lantern, a constant reminder to keep living.
He thought of Hina.
*
The conversation ended, and Eila stepped outside.
The moon waned, and the sun rose.
Morning had come.
“Your Highness! Did you stay up all night again? And why didn’t you close the window?”
Realizing that Calian had stayed up all night sitting on the sofa with the window wide open, letting the distinctly chilly breeze fill the room, Yan began to nag him once more.
Calian did not tell him that he wouldn’t feel cold even if the winter wind of the Great Desert blew. Nor did he mention that he liked it because it felt like a sea breeze.
“What if you catch a cold?”
“Sorry. I forgot to close the window.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to take my eyes off you for even a second?”
He simply smiled sheepishly as he watched Yan, who was nagging about how he couldn’t leave Calian alone for a moment while hurriedly wrapping him tightly in a blanket.
It hadn’t been his intention, but Yan canceled his entire morning schedule.
“The newly appointed lord of the margraviate where Marquis Gray Brissen used to be is coming to pay his respects after lunch, so please sleep until then. I don’t know why you insist on troubling me so.”
As Yan spoke while bringing him a cup of lemon honey tea that was more scalding than warm, Calian let out another chuckle.
“Don’t smile. It’s not charming at all.”
Calian, who was about to reply that there was no way it wasn’t charming, silently nodded instead. After staring up at Yan for a long moment, he spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
He apologized because he was planning to run away again, leaving behind the very Yan who claimed he couldn’t take his eyes off him for a single second.
Thus, he caught some sleep during the morning, had lunch with Lemain for the first time in a while, and met the new margrave. He also met with Alan to reiterate the tasks he wanted done during his absence. Finally, he met with Kyrie and asked him once more to oversee Franz’s swordsmanship training.
Another day passed, and night fell.
After sending Yan away under the pretext of going to bed early, Calian opened his safe, took out some money, and packed it into a palm-sized bag he had borrowed from Alan, tucking it securely into his breast pocket. Then, he leaped silently out of the window.
Since he planned to stop by the Siegfried territory anyway and didn’t intend to stay away for long, he had no luggage to pack. Having gone to bed without dinner claiming he was tired, the lights on the fourth floor were already out.
“He must have a lot of work indeed.”
Chuckling as he muttered this, Calian headed to the stables.
Clack, clack!
Raven stamped his hooves as if greeting him.
Though Calian had visited and comforted him several times since his injury, Raven still seemed uneasy, pressing his forehead against Calian’s stomach with a soft snort.
“I’m all healed. I’m fine.”
Calian gently stroked Raven, then leaped lightly into the saddle. As usual, Raven smoothly accelerated toward the main palace gates. By now, Raven knew well that they had to move quickly until they cleared the palace grounds to prevent the knights from giving chase.
Clop, clop, clop!
Thus, they quickly passed the main gates and reached the square. Just as the pursuing knights turned back, Raven suddenly came to a halt. He didn’t just slow down; he stopped dead in his tracks.
“…Hmm.”
It was because Calian, confronted with something entirely unexpected, let out a flustered sound for the first time in a very long while.
Because he had no hobby of doubting others, he had trusted too blindly.
He hadn’t harbored a single shred of suspicion.
A pink-haired mage clad in a pure white robe came into view, flanked by ten other mages dressed in identical robes. Beside them stood thirty knights in pristine white uniforms. And next to them stood an attendant with grape-colored hair.
“Meow!”
“Mew!”
The two cats cradled in the attendant’s arms cried out cutely.
“I have only come to see you off, Prince Calian. Lucy and Anne have also come to bid you farewell, so please do not worry,” Relic said, answering a question that hadn’t even been asked. He offered an awkward smile, which was fully reflected in Calian’s red eyes.
And.
“It seems my younger brother has forgotten the proper order of things.”
“What order do you mean?”
“Negotiation first, blackmail second.”
“…Older Brother.”
Don’t just go there as a Sword Master to threaten them; go as Prince Calian, the Vice-Commander of Valkan, and negotiate first.
Franz, impeccably dressed in a pure white uniform that seemed to gleam brilliantly under the moonlight, sat atop an unnamed silver-white horse. His white cloak fluttered magnificently in the autumn breeze.
“My only younger brother hasn’t registered his name anywhere. Since I have something to my name, I ought to accompany you.”
With that, the pea—who had come to accompany his younger brother on a journey Calian had intended to make entirely alone to threaten the elves—curled one corner of his mouth upward. His low voice pierced Calian’s ears.
“Isn’t that exactly what the title of Valkan’s Vice-Commander is for?”
When a younger brother with not a shred of power to his name was about to stir up trouble alone again, what choice did the older brother have? The one with power had to follow.
“Ah…”
Staring at Franz for a long moment, Calian raised his hand.
Beneath his black hood, hidden under his palm, his red lips parted, and a whispered murmur escaped.
“Where on earth did he learn that?”
It’s me.
It must have been me. Who else could it be? There’s no one else. I must have taught him. It’s me. Right, I did this.
Ah…
This is driving me absolutely insane.