Chapter 270: I Am a Prince (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 270: I Am a Prince (4)
He might not be as old as I thought.
I wasn’t particularly curious anymore, but the thought suddenly crossed my mind. Having watched him all this time, I’d suspected it to some extent, but now I was more certain than ever.
He really might not be as old as I imagined.
I had no idea how much time he had traveled back, nor what the age gap between him and Chase truly was. I could only make a rough guess as I turned my head to look at the sea shimmering with shattered moonlight.
I wondered what the prince of a neighboring kingdom, who would have lived through this very day long ago, was doing. What he was thinking. What pain he was suffering. I could only guess as I stared out at the water.
Looking at the sea, I listened to him cry.
I listened until the scent of salt no longer felt unfamiliar. I listened as the seawater wetting the tops of my feet rose to my ankles. I listened to the crying of a boy who was now merely sixteen, determined to engrave the shimmering moonlight into my memory.
I listened for a long, long time.
“Calian.”
“Yes.”
That’s right.
In the end, we came to the sea just like this, and I heard the whale’s cry.
“Let go.”
“Yes.”
And in the end, just like that, I gained a younger brother.
* * *
Truly beautiful Secritia.
That was how Calian had described his homeland.
“I don’t know Kairis that well, since I haven’t been to many places, but in Secritia, everywhere I went was wonderful.”
Just moments ago, the scent of blood had vanished the instant Franz released his grip on Calian’s collar. Calian had been leaning into the hold with his head bowed, and once the hand blocking the view was gone, only his now-clean white clothes remained visible.
His ankles were still submerged, and he could have easily gone ashore to clean himself, yet he had insisted on washing the blood away right there before splashing his way out to sit on the sand. Watching him, Franz thought:
He’s incredibly embarrassed right now.
So, without a word, Franz went and sat down beside him. Remembering that Calian wasn’t carrying anything in the pockets of his formal attire, Franz pulled out a handkerchief and handed it over.
Calian took the handkerchief, balled it up in his fist, and began to speak again. Franz simply listened, feeling he should wait until those blood-red eyes returned to their original shade.
“Of course, my favorite place is the sea.”
“Figures.”
“Ah, now that I think about it, this is only the second time I’ve ever been in the sea. I never thought I’d go in again.”
“…And here I thought you missed it so much.”
He longed for it so desperately, yet he had only entered the water twice.
If merely getting his ankles wet counted as the second time, Franz wondered if Calian had ever even gone near the waves before. He then recalled how, even after they had arrived, Calian had kept his distance, refusing to step close to the surf.
“Why?”
“Because it suffocates me.”
Franz stared blankly at Calian.
Calian raised a hand and pointed toward the horizon where the moon was setting.
“There was a day I went out on a boat, somewhere beyond that horizon, and I can’t forget being thrown overboard. Crown Prince Chase jumped in after me and suffered for it. I couldn’t bring myself to go back in because that memory wouldn’t fade.”
“Was it an assassination attempt?”
“No.”
He shook his head, his grip tightening on his fist.
“I don’t know if you’d call it a test, but it was… a confirmation.”
Franz watched him for a moment, pondering the meaning of his words, before letting out a scoff.
“…Forget it. It’ll be gone soon enough.”
“Yes. I should forget it. He’s someone who will be gone soon enough.”
“Drop the formal speech.”
“You let it slide earlier.”
“Try again.”
“We’re still the same age, Brother.”
“Keep barking.”
A small laugh escaped Calian.
He nudged the sand with the tip of his foot a few times before continuing.
“Anyway. During the year I was away from Secritia, I traveled to places as far from it as possible—places I thought I’d never visit again. They were all wonderful.”
In Secritia, there was no tradition of royalty leaving the palace for an extended period. Coming-of-age journeys like the Roselita only existed in Kairis. For Secritian royalty, who spent their entire lives in the palace, there was no particular reason to leave the capital.
Finding this unexpected, Franz glanced sideways at him. Instead of a spoken question, only the sound of waves and wind filled the silence.
“I was kicked out. Of the palace. That’s why I traveled.”
Feeling Franz’s gaze, Calian shrugged and let out a wry chuckle, remembering the injustice, sorrow, and absurdity he had felt on that day.
“Who did it?”
“Crown Prince Chase kicked me out and told me not to set foot in the palace again.”
“Why?”
A short sigh escaped Calian’s lips.
“After I went from prince to the Royal Brother, I couldn’t sleep properly. That was probably the sharpest, most high-strung period of my entire life. Even more so than before.”
Listening to the waves for a moment, Franz nodded.
He knew what the reason must have been.
“Because I didn’t have a cat.”
“Right.”
Though the reason was likely very different from what Franz imagined, he understood.
It was probably because Calian felt as if Devlan might return from the dead. The shadow of the man who had plunged the Royal Brother into hell while alive would not have vanished so easily, even in death.
Chase, who hadn’t known what his younger brother had been through, would have been overwhelmed after ascending the throne. Without a white cat, and without a black cat that could casually demolish a five-hundred-year-old building, Calian would have broken down, unable to escape the hell the dead man had created.
“After I spent three years like that, Crown Prince Chase banished me from the palace.”
Ignoring Franz’s gaze—which seemed to ask just how much like shattered glass Calian must have been for even Chase to resort to that—Calian continued.
“I had nowhere in particular to go, so I just drank for days on end before leaving Secritia. I wandered aimlessly for about a year, traveling to so many different places. As more things filled my heart, the things I had seen before were gradually pushed to the back.”
Calian let go of the handkerchief.
“I just… hoped you would do the same, Brother.”
The wound on his hand, which had already stopped bleeding, came into view. Glancing at the long scar that remained behind it, Calian fell silent for a moment before looking at Franz.
To be sure, Franz only found talking bothersome; it wasn't that he was incapable of it.
Calian had once thought Franz didn’t swear, but looking back now, he was actually quite proficient. Though he only seemed to know two or three curses, he recycled them well when needed. Still, Calian figured he shouldn’t teach him any more. After all, he would be the only one on the receiving end.
In any case.
Calian—who had heard and seen everything this man, who found talking tedious but was perfectly capable of it, had tried so hard not to voice—opened his mouth.
“Instead of seeing the flames of the lake in the sparks of a campfire, try listening to the crackling of the wood. Instead of finding relief in seeing things that aren’t stained by the rainbow, feel how cool the water mist is on your fingertips. Instead of standing at the edge of the waves thinking of sounds you can’t even hear, smell the scent of the sea that won’t reach Chermil. Travel like that.”
Whoosh…
The sound of the waves filled the cool breeze.
“I know she is someone you cannot forget. So just live like that, pushing her back little by little.”
Franz, who hated talking, sat in silence once again. He watched the moon as it gradually disappeared beyond the horizon, sinking into the sea.
“That’s what I hoped for you. On the day I woke from the poison and fell asleep.”
The light green eyes finally closed.
He understood that this was the end of someone’s story.
* * *
A vibrant array of colors was laid out on the round table.
Bread made with eggs and milk was placed on Calian and Franz’s side. Two perfectly cooked fried eggs were also served, similarly placed only for them. It was the elves’ way of showing consideration for their outside visitors.
And that consideration ended right there.
Well-grilled bell peppers and asparagus, stir-fried mushrooms of various kinds, sandwiches stuffed with figs and avocados, grilled bananas, a salad of questionable necessity, and purple grape juice.
There was no meat.
Yes, they understood, but there was no meat. It was only natural, but there was no meat. They were grateful for the eggs and milk, but there was no meat.
“Excuse me for a moment, Brother.”
Since there were no servants, they had to serve themselves.
After a moment of dejection looking at the table, Calian reached for the mulberry jam next to Franz. His arm passed in front of Franz’s eyes as Franz stared down at the fragrant yellow and red flowers floating in the transparent water bowl meant for washing hands.
And then, the flowers vanished.
Franz let out a smirk as he watched his Sword Master of a younger brother—who had so brilliantly wasted his abilities just to snatch the flowers from the hand-washing water and place them in front of himself—begin his meal. Franz then washed his hands in the now flowerless bowl and ate a meal that would have perfectly suited his palate, if only the bell peppers weren't there.
“I am truly sorry about what happened with Elder Jer,” Narzan, sitting across from them, said near the end of the meal.
Having suspected that Narzan’s laughter the previous day had been a test of his temperament, Calian simply nodded without much surprise.
“I hope you will reconsider migrating to Secritia.”
With that, Calian began his own negotiation.
“Whether it’s grapes or wheat, we know there are many benefits thanks to the power of the Mother Tree. So, without beating around the bush, let us know if there’s anything making you uncomfortable.”
The power of the Mother Tree was a sort of tax Kairis received in exchange for allowing the elves to reside in the large forests of the southern region and preserving them. Thanks to the Mother Tree’s exquisite ability to grow plants, agricultural damage severe enough to be called a bad harvest rarely occurred, even during typical droughts or floods. While it couldn’t completely prevent damage from things like locust swarms or submerged crops, the plants themselves always grew wonderfully. Furthermore, Kairis experienced no earthquakes, and while it had hot springs, there were no volcanic eruptions.
Although it didn’t provide a visible form of payment, Kairis would be in a dire state if the Mother Tree were to disappear. That was why Narzan had taken the stance he had the day before, hinting, This is why we are considering migration.
“Rather than being uncomfortable, there is a somewhat difficult matter.”
“I heard you met with the King of Secritia.”
Narzan nodded. For some unknown reason, Calian resembled the King of Secritia, and he seemed to despise being told so. Narzan had felt the killing intent that had momentarily poured out of Calian. He was also aware that the second prince had spilled tea on his own lap to stop him.
Thanks to that, Narzan replied in a voice considerably softer than the day before, “They requested that we send an elf healer. But as you know, we do not heal anyone outside of our own kind, so we refused.”
“Since they have nothing to do with elves, you could have just refused and left it at that. I don’t understand why that makes things difficult.”
Hearing this, Narzan hesitated for a moment. Calian waited for his answer without saying a word. Meanwhile, Franz, who had finished his meal, took a sip of his tea infused with dried rosemary and lemon before setting it down.
“Actually, there is a forest where elves live on the Secritian side as well. However, Secritia found out about this and is demanding we send a healer as payment for the elves residing there all this time. It is a troublesome situation.”
It must be Bridget Forest.
Recalling the name of the forest he had recently remembered, Calian furrowed his brow slightly.
“It is a place where elves and half-elves exiled for various reasons reside. I thought perhaps you might know of it.”
“How would I know there was an elf forest in Secritia?”
At this, a look of confusion appeared on Narzan’s face instead.
He looked at Franz and asked, “Is it because your brother was too young that he never heard the story? Or do you and your King also not know the truth?”
“Know what?”
Hearing Franz’s low voice—which was as calm as ever, though any trace of politeness seemed to have been swallowed with his tea—Narzan looked back at Calian.
“Bridget Forest. That Queen Freya came from that place.”
Calian’s brow furrowed even deeper.