Chapter 32: The Roses Will Bloom Soon (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 32: The Roses Will Bloom Soon (4)
Calian tilted his head back slightly.
Maintaining his smile, he looked directly into Silike’s own smiling face and spoke.
"It sounds like you're telling me to change my mind about something I'm reluctant to do."
The voice that emerged was slender and clear, belonging to a boy whose voice had not yet broken.
But a distinct chill clung to his words.
"Don't test me so carelessly. There is little brotherly affection between us."
The broad smile on Silike's face slowly faded. At the words of her stepson—a clear threat to her biological son's safety—a slight frown marred her picture-perfect face.
Calian picked up his spoon and tapped the rim of his coffee cup. A clear, ringing sound cut through the tension, and Calian’s expression returned to its usual composure.
"So, what shall we do about the tea?"
Silike did not answer. She merely stared at Calian with narrowed eyes. Calian silently awaited her decision.
"Do your worst."
Calian smiled.
"I'll take that as a refusal."
Calian raised his cup.
Without breaking eye contact with Silike, he drained the cup.
At that moment, the doors to the banquet hall opened, and the nobles began to stream in.
*
Yan, sitting anxiously beside the coachman, brought the carriage to a sudden halt. He had spotted a boy and a girl walking along a road in the royal capital.
He was in such a rush that he would have normally sped right past them. He had noticed the boy's light blue hair and the girl's silver hair, but even that wouldn't have been enough to make him stop.
"...You were planning to enter the royal palace carrying a sword?"
But how could he possibly ignore a boy with a gleaming longsword strapped to his hip?
For now, Yan ushered the siblings into the carriage and climbed in behind them. Carrying the three of them, the carriage made a brief stop at the Mage Association before speeding toward Alan's house.
Hearing Yan's question, Kyrie replied bluntly, his face an emotionless mask.
"Yes. It was a gift from His Highness."
Gods, this is driving me crazy.
"You're going in empty-handed today. Leave the sword at the mage's house. Whatever the case, you are absolutely not bringing it."
He’d just smuggled a knife out of the palace from the prince's own pocket; there was no way he was letting someone else in with a longsword. At that, Hina, the silver-haired girl sitting quietly across from Yan, began signing to Kyrie.
– Puppy. I think this is him. Since they said he was cute, I thought he was a girl.
Kyrie opened his mouth to reply, but the answer came from Yan instead.
"The name's Yan, not 'Puppy.' And as you can see, I am a perfectly normal man."
Realizing he understood sign language, Hina flinched. Noticing that his tone had been unusually stiff, Yan spoke again.
"I can understand most of it, so if you have something to say to me, just say it directly. Anyway, things are a bit chaotic right now. I didn't mean to welcome you like this. I'm sorry."
He turned back to Kyrie to say something else, but the carriage came to a halt. Alan's mansion was visible through the window. Telling the siblings to wait for a moment, Yan dashed into the house.
Meanwhile, Alan had only returned home near dawn and had just woken up.
"Are we having guests?"
Alan, who was brewing coffee while loosely tying back his messy hair, walked into the kitchen and took out three more cups.
A moment later, he put two of the empty cups back. He had sensed that only one person was running toward the house from the carriage. Expanding his mana, Alan scanned the area, sensed the two still in the carriage, and let out a soft murmur of admiration.
"A half-elf. Our prince certainly keeps interesting company."
By the time two cups of coffee were placed on the table, Yan had crossed the vast garden and arrived. Alan snapped his fingers, and the door blocking Yan's path flew open.
At the same time, a flower-shaped marble statue beside the door swayed and sang in a cheerful voice.
"Welcooome to the home of the Archmage, Alan Manasil!"
"Ah... I'm seriously losing my mind."
Why is everyone I meet, whether they wield a sword or magic, completely insane?
Swallowing his complaints, Yan hurried inside.
Alan, who had been smiling in anticipation of Yan's reaction to the statue, found his expression changing instantly. Unlike usual, Yan's face was completely devoid of emotion.
"Something has happened."
Instead of answering, Yan took out the items he had brought and handed them to Alan.
There was a knife, a pouch of medicine, a report, and a letter. There was no need to wonder whose seal was on the letter.
"He wouldn't tell me what he was thinking. He only asked me to hide these, saying someone might search his room soon."
Alan practically snatched the letter from Yan's hand and unfolded it. As his eyes scanned the writing, they began to twitch.
"...That little bastard."
He said he found a way.
"And he calls this a solution?!"
Alan threw the letter back to Yan. He then hurriedly shed his robe and changed his clothes. Meanwhile, Yan unfolded Calian's letter.
His hands began to tremble as one sentence caught his eye.
– So, if by any chance I do not wake up right away...
Yan bit his lower lip hard.
The boy trying to enter the palace with a sword.
The man who made a statue sing.
The man who threw away his noble status to play servant.
And the one who gathered them all—the one who would drink poison just to refuse a poisoned cup.
He never should have trusted such a lunatic.
*
Near the end of Lemain's opening speech for the evening banquet.
Thump!
Calian's heart gave a violent lurch. It began to pound erratically, so hard he could feel it without even touching his chest.
Calian quietly closed and opened his eyes.
Wine filled everyone's glasses.
The empty coffee cup in front of him was cleared away, replaced by a glass of juice. Calian stared at the glass.
Of course, the drink was perfectly fine. However, Calian intended to make it look as though the drink itself had been poisoned. After all, he couldn't claim to have been poisoned without having consumed anything.
They said it takes about half a day for the results of a magic-reagent poison test to come out. By then, news of his poisoning would have already spread, landing on top of the rumors about mysterious deaths that the mages were currently circulating. By the time the test results came back, no one would care.
Calian raised his glass and drank slowly.
As if sensing something, Silike turned her head to look at him. Their expressionless gazes met for a moment before both looked away, as if by unspoken agreement.
– Cough.
At the sound of the cough, Randel looked at Calian.
Calian's eyes met Randel's for a fleeting second. In that instant, Randel's brow furrowed.
He had seen right through him, into his very depths. He understood the state his younger brother was in, why he had approached him earlier, and what role he had been assigned for the night.
'I am perfectly fine.'
Why Calian had given such an answer with a face that was anything but fine.
Thump!
His heart hammered again. The drug had fully taken effect.
The detoxifying agent in his system failed.
The venom of Tacrimosa, which had been slowly receding, now bloomed through his veins like a drop of ink in water.
Calian clenched his trembling hands into fists. His coughing grew louder and more frequent. The nobles turned their attention toward him. He could feel Silike's expression stiffening and Lemain observing his condition.
The thick, metallic taste of blood rushed up his throat.
– Cough!
Dark red blood sprayed from Calian's lips. Nobles gasped, leaping to their feet.
Thump!
Then came a heart-wrenching pain.
Just because it wouldn't kill him didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.
Even the ice spear that bastard Arsen Hertz had driven through his chest had hurt less than this. He could feel his airway burning, his lungs shredding themselves to pieces.
Calian clutched his chest, a groan escaping his lips against his will.
And finally—
– Thud!
His strength gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.
"Your Highness!"
The hall erupted into chaos as the knights of Kaera surrounded the room. Soon, Lemain rushed to Calian's side.
"Calian."
Lemain knelt on the floor and gathered Calian into his arms. A low groan escaped Lemain's lips as he easily lifted the boy's frail, skeletal body.
Calian endured. He held on, staring intently at Lemain. He needed to force his father to remember the one who had suffered the exact same fate, at the exact same hands. He needed to drag that buried guilt to the surface and make him lose his reason, if only for a moment.
Only when he saw Lemain's face twist in anguish did Calian finally lose consciousness. Lemain's hands trembled violently as Calian went limp in his arms.
Lemain turned his head to glare at someone. The nobles' gazes shifted along with his.
– For that child to survive, the one he sought should have been his father, not some mage he had never met before!
"In the end..."
Lemain muttered. His whisper quickly flared into pure rage.
"In the end, you dare to harm my son as well!"
– If you merely stand by and watch, you will lose him.
Lemain's eyes, burning with fury, locked onto someone. His voice, thick with wrath, thundered through the banquet hall.
"Silike!"
Seeing the King in such a state for the first time, and hearing the name that escaped his lips, every noble in the hall gasped.
Franz hung his head and spat out a curse.
Thump!
The power of blessing manifested once more.
It began to gather the dispersed poison, shedding dead tissue. Slowly but surely, the healing process began.
Lemain did not notice Calian's breathing gradually stabilizing. Silike, the only one who witnessed this change, clenched the fabric of her dress.
*
The nobles' eyes remained glued to Silike and Calian. Silike secretly bit her lip. She had never expected Lemain to shout her name right then and there, to act so recklessly.
The healer, who was examining Calian's body, spoke up.
"It is poison."
The nobles let out cries bordering on screams. The prince had truly been poisoned. Lemain ordered the healer to treat him immediately.
Clutching his necklace, the healer began to gather the divine power of Serenti. Unlike the high priests of legend, he could not wield divine power directly, so it would take time for the detoxification to manifest.
"It is not poisoning."
Silike spoke up, stopping the healer.
Since all the nobles had heard Lemain shout her name, she could not back down now.
"It is not poison, but an illness. I have heard he suffers from a chronic condition."
"Silike. That is enough. I will tolerate no more."
Lemain, who had no intention of backing down this time, cut her off.
Yes. They had claimed Freya's death was due to illness as well. She had shown up with her entire knight order and said exactly that.
The healer quickly settled back into place and gripped his necklace. Silike, forcing a calm smile onto her face, spoke.
"I say this only because Your Majesty seems unaware. First, please dismiss the others. I am deeply concerned that my child's condition might worsen amidst this commotion."
At her sheer audacity, Lemain could no longer hold back and turned to the Commander of Kaera. However, another voice cut him off.
"Calian was perfectly fine. I do not know why you are inventing an illness that does not exist, but I have seen him every single morning and never once thought anything was wrong with him. Furthermore, calling him 'my child'... That is something you should never say to Calian, of all people."
Silike's eyes trembled.
She turned her gaze toward the voice that dared to refute her.
"I told you not to bother. I said as much."
The one who had just overturned her words turned his head toward her and slowly finished his sentence.
"...... Mother."
The light green eyes staring back at her were not Randel's.