Chapter 313: Wildfire (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 313: Wildfire (3)
Chase sensed a change in his father's behavior.
Devlan had summoned him to his office, and as Chase watched him take a nonchalant sip of tea, the thought solidified.
"You've changed a great deal," Devlan said, his eyes fixed on Chase.
Devlan hadn't kept him waiting long today. He was even drinking tea—something he usually never touched—without a second thought. Despite his own drastically altered attitude, it was Devlan who claimed Chase was the one who had changed.
"I believe I should be the one saying that to you."
"What about me could have possibly changed?"
"You're meeting with me in private, without a single guard."
"A strange thing to say. Why would a father need a guard to meet his own son?"
Feeling he had nothing more to say on the matter, Chase simply nodded. Devlan coughed a few times, then continued as if nothing had happened.
"By the way, Sir Castrin seems quite busy lately. Meeting with nobles, personally interrogating the Association President... I hear you're doing things the old you never would have. It makes me think you've changed."
"I haven't changed."
"If not, then have you perhaps grown greedy for the throne?"
"...Since you are on the throne, Father, I suppose it would look that way. But to be precise, it isn't just the throne I desire. It would be more accurate to say I wish to set right all the wrongs you have committed."
"It may look wrong in your eyes, but what of it? To those who have grown accustomed to my changes, it will seem perfectly normal."
Chase offered a gentle smile.
"Are you addressing the rumors spreading outside the palace? Should I take that to mean that no matter what people hear, they will refuse to believe it?"
"Are there rumors spreading? I was unaware. But whatever they may be, won't everyone eventually follow the truth?"
"Do you mean the 'truth' they've grown accustomed to over the past twenty years—a fabricated image?"
Devlan was staging a scene: an ordinary father with nothing to hide from his son, who in turn was a son coveting his father's throne. He was, in essence, delivering an answer to Chase's recent actions.
No matter how hard Chase tried to show the nobles what kind of man Devlan truly was, their deeply rooted perceptions wouldn't change. A wise ruler, harsh in punishment but clear in reward—that was the 'true image' of Devlan in their eyes. Therefore, they would believe there was a justifiable reason for everything: the dead soldiers, the conflict between noble factions, the affair with Louise, and even what Chase himself had endured.
In short, they would conclude that Devlan had merely handed down a strict punishment to a son who coveted his father's position, and that Chase shouldn't waste his efforts.
"Isn't that a contradiction? To claim that if people believe a lie to be the truth, it becomes the truth?"
"If it is built on lies, yet they believe it with absolute conviction, what is it if not the truth?"
"That isn't truth. It's deception."
"Is there a difference? I wouldn't know."
"Deception leaves no proof. Truth is accompanied by evidence."
Chase stared at Devlan for a long moment. Then, mirroring his father, he took a sip of tea, set the cup down, and spoke again.
"I know that you moved the force known as Zeon through the Association President, Father. He has confessed to everything, and I hold the evidence. I also have the documents my mother left behind, proof of what she endured, and all the evidence regarding the attempted assassination of the Crown Prince and Prince of Kairis."
"Evidence. You have acquired quite a lot."
"Yes. A great deal."
"And you think you can take my place with just that?"
"I think it means I no longer have to endure."
Devlan let out a low chuckle.
"Endure. What an amusing thing to say. I don't recall ever teaching you to endure."
"Instead of teaching me, you bound me with other things, did you not?"
"I thought you were a weak and gentle child. I was merely protecting you."
"You simply wanted to mold me into someone weak and gentle. By holding the lives of the Queen, my mother, Marquis Lin, Arianne, Sir Castrin, the nobles, and countless others in your hands, you forced us all to endure—myself included."
"It seems you believe that was wrong."
"It was wrong. And because I realized it so late, I intend to act without any further delay."
"How regrettable. I never expected to hear such words from your mouth."
"That is not what's regrettable."
Chase quietly looked down at the single cornflower floating in his teacup. His calm voice followed a moment later.
"Everyone but you wishes for your end. What I find regrettable is knowing that your end will be far from clean."
"An end. Not a word I particularly like."
"I know. I also know that you will never grow to like it, not even at the very end."
"That is a relief. At least I won't have to disappoint you."
"I have already been disappointed too many times. I expect nothing more, so there is no longer any way for you to disappoint me."
Hearing Chase's response, Devlan nodded once more and coughed again.
"Very well. It seems we have nothing more to discuss. You may leave."
"Yes. I will see you at the banquet this evening."
Replying as if he had no regrets, Chase rose from his seat. After offering a polite bow, he walked out.
Witnessing the undeniable change in Chase, Devlan let out a long, low chuckle. Afterward, as if nothing had happened, he sat back at his desk and picked up the documents he had been reading.
Rustle.
As Devlan casually skimmed through the papers, his gaze halted.
It was a report about a sudden cold wave in Nedzen, a northwestern region of Secritia. The freeze had destroyed all the crops scheduled for harvest next spring. The document ended with a request to defer the region's taxes for three months, to be paid later with interest.
The benevolent King Devlan was always generous in such matters, so granting permission should have been a simple affair. Yet, without signing his approval, Devlan picked up another document.
Rustle.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
He pressed his lips together and turned a page, the paper rustling softly. Beneath the sound, he could hear the ticking of the clock's second hand.
Cold wave, crops, next spring, taxes, three months.
He had opened the new document, but his thoughts were frozen. With each tick of the second hand, a word flashed through his mind. As he quietly pondered them, a deep smile spread across his lips.
Thud!
Devlan flipped the stack of papers face down on his desk. His gaze shifted to the clock. His brown eyes landed not on the luxurious platinum and sapphire decorations, but on the silver second hand, ticking away diligently.
The flow of thought is like a wildfire on a dry field, its path difficult to alter or halt once the wind catches it. In Devlan's mind, a similar chain of thought began, unstoppable.
The coronation of the new King of Secritia will be held in February of next year.
That's right. I heard those words. I'm sure of it.
Memories of what he had done when the former King of Secritia died came flooding back.
A king's coronation is not held on the day of the former king's death. While the successor is immediately referred to as the new 'king', the actual ceremony takes time.
It had been the same for him.
Devlan had ascended the throne as soon as the former king died. He had then notified the nobles and the royal families of other nations that the master of the throne had changed and began preparing for the coronation. It took exactly two months from his ascension to the ceremony itself.
Two months.
Yes. It took two months.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Time flows.
Devlan no longer fell asleep to the poisoned incense. Therefore, the progression of his illness would surely slow.
Probably.
Probably.
Probably.
How much would it slow?
Come to think of it, Nedzen had asked to defer their taxes for three months.
'Everyone wishes for your end.'
Will I be the one to receive those deferred taxes? Or...
Tick, tock, tick...
...will it be Chase?
* * *
The strong and the weak.
If someone were to ask Calian, "Are you strong?" he would naturally answer yes.
Not to mention Alan and Teilan, but also the various mages led by Arsen and the knights led by Kyrie—Calian would deem them all strong. However...
"For a steak knife to be this flimsy... Was this made in Tensil?"
A high-quality knife made for cutting meat.
That, and only that, was deemed incredibly weak.
Calian lifted his head, a relaxed expression on his face, and blinked. He hoped he was seeing things, but regrettably, the scene before him was all too real.
"Your Highness."
Ignoring Kyrie's voice from beside him, Calian quietly lowered his eyes and stewed in his thoughts. No matter what anyone said, Calian was a perfectly rational adult.
I can't just snap the waist of that bastard—no, that scoundrel—no, my dear brother, the Crown Prince. A waist that's probably weaker than a foxtail stem. So I'll just pretend I broke his waist instead of this knife. I, the generous and rational one, must endure... Endure my ass! Is this something a person can endure?!
"Prince Calian."
My Hina, who should be with Mother under Sir Teilan's protection, looks so beautiful today. No, that's not the point! Why is my Hina over there?!
Even if the sun wears away and the moon crumbles, as long as my Hina—the most cheerful girl in the world—is here, the world is bright. Did I live all this time just to see this sight? You, Crown Prince, you bastard. Just you wait.
"Breathe, Your Highness," Kyrie urged.
"I'm fine. I'm fine, just give me a second."
Just one little mistake.
Just one little slip-up.
People make mistakes. Sometimes they end up destroying someone. Besides, I have plenty of older brothers. It's fine, right?
"Not right now."
Of course, Kyrie wasn't holding him back because he was calm. He simply possessed a sliver more rationality than Calian at the moment, and with no other orders given, his only duty was to restrain the prince.
Rachel watched, flustered, while Euria observed with great interest. Eila simply took a sip of her wine. Meanwhile, Arsen quietly picked up the cleanly severed pieces of the knife and slipped them into his dimensional pocket. He had just acquired his second-favorite collectible.
In any case, that was the situation.
And so, Calian—who shared not a single drop of blood with his Hina, who was currently shining like a morning star next to the Crown Prince with his foxtail-fuzz-colored hair—was held back by Kyrie. To clarify, Kyrie is Hina's biological brother.
Fortunately, thanks to the quick-witted Silent magic Arsen had cast the moment Franz introduced Hina, Calian's outburst didn't reach anyone outside their immediate group. And though his thoughts were anything but pleasant, his face remained fixed in a flawless smile. There was just one more thing.
"It seems there is more than one thing to celebrate."
Just as Calian, unable to find the broken pieces of his knife, was about to grab the fork next to it, a miraculous voice pierced his ears, instantly restoring his fleeting rationality.
"I hadn't heard the news, so I am quite surprised. My apologies for not knowing in advance, or I would have prepared a proper welcome."
"It is fine. If you offer your congratulations, I will gladly accept them."
The noble Crown Prince replied calmly, either unaware that Calian's heart was a raging inferno—or, more likely, fully aware and not caring one bit.
He was so composed that one would never guess this was the same Crown Prince who had thrown a tantrum about his own birthday not being celebrated. The nobles stared at Franz with unfamiliar eyes.
"Since it is indeed something to celebrate, I must offer my greetings. My sincere congratulations. By the way, Viscountess Bern..."
As that name left Devlan's lips, Calian, who had completely regained his senses, held his breath and suppressed his killing intent once more.
"...is not a face I recognize," Devlan continued, a deep smile playing on his lips.
—I have a favor to ask.
—Speak.
—Would it be possible for you to pretend to be my fiancé, just for our stay in Secritia? I have a feeling the king will try to summon me for treatment by any means necessary.
—The Crown Prince here and my brother will handle it. Why the act?
—Not everyone in this world acts on pure justice. Even for a prince, refusing a king's request on another's behalf is no easy task, especially in a foreign country.
—And?
—A highly influential position has its own troubles, but it also means others can't touch you so easily. Since I came here of my own accord, I want to resolve this myself.
Although her identity being exposed wasn't her fault, he wanted to ask why she was using him when she claimed she would resolve it herself. Yet, instead of weighing the pros and cons, the surprisingly mild-tempered Crown Prince simply nodded.
—Fine. Do as you wish.
—Thank you. In return, I won't charge you for your treatments up to this point.
He was only just now realizing that, much like the cost of Demirea's bananas, a debt had been piling up for Hina's treatments. He had simply assumed it was being paid out of Valkan's massive budget.
Apparently not.
His salary was his salary, but the treatment costs for the two brothers were a separate expense. He considered asking why she was only telling him this now, but the surprisingly mild-tempered Crown Prince simply nodded once more.
—Fine.
If his own treatment cost was his reputation, Franz mused, he wondered what Calian's would be. The boy might have to sell all of Kairis to pay his debt. And then where would he raise that cat of his?
He didn't know that Hina already considered their lifetime treatment fees fully paid the moment Calian rescued her and Kyrie from that gambling den.
At any rate, Hina had proposed, and Franz had accepted.
Calian, in turn, succeeded in exhausting a lifetime's worth of patience.
"Since her abilities are rare, she accompanied us discreetly," Franz explained.
"A person of rare abilities, you say?"
"Yes."
Calian endured.
As the exchange between Devlan and Franz continued, he looked at Hina's resolute expression and roughly understood that this was the result of her efforts to 'avoid harm.' So he did not make a mistake. Not this time.
"Hearing that makes me curious. May I ask what kind of ability she possesses that required her to cross the border in such secrecy?"
"...Your Majesty."
Franz's light green eyes turned toward Devlan.
"Why do you show such interest in my future wife? Is that not discourteous?"
A hush fell over the banquet hall. The Crown Prince, who had seemed calmer than expected, had just delivered a response so incredibly rude that it left everyone speechless.
Just then, Calian called out to him, his face stiff.
"Brother... Your Highness, Franz."
The gazes of the nobles, the people of Kairis, Hina, Franz, Chase, and Devlan all turned toward Calian. He spoke in a low voice, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I must ask that you exercise caution in your words and actions, at least for the duration of our stay."
One corner of Franz's mouth curled upward.
Wearing an expression that seemed to say who are you to lecture me after I just saw you snap a knife in half, Franz spoke.
"My little brother is lecturing me again."
"His Majesty the King was merely showing interest in a healer from Kairis. To react so sensitively is, in itself, a great discourtesy."
Devlan's twenty-year reign had paralyzed the nobles' ability to think for themselves. They had lived with bated breath for so long that they couldn't bring themselves to suspect him over a simple rumor. They were terrified into believing only what he showed them, never daring to make a move. They had built walls around their hearts.
And it is precisely such people who shatter when faced with something they have never witnessed before.
For instance, a Crown Prince who casually accuses a king of being discourteous, and his younger brother who unhesitatingly calls him out on it.
"Is this my discourtesy?"
"Yes. You were discourteous, Your Highness."
"I see."
And the sight of that same Crown Prince accepting his brother's admonishment without argument.
"I was in the wrong. I shall reflect on it."
"I am grateful that you listen."
"Of course I must. My younger brother's words have always been right."
The sight of him nodding at his younger brother's words without protest.
"Crown Prince Franz," Chase interjected smoothly. "His Majesty's illness is severe. He showed interest for that reason alone, so I hope you will not misunderstand. This gathering was arranged to foster amicable relations between our nations. It would be best for both sides to let this go."
The words they heard as the walls around their hearts began to crumble...
"Is that not so, Father?"
...soon became the truth.