Chapter 358: True Wish (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 358: True Wish (3)
That was what Yan had said.
How could their flower-like prince, whose body had yet to fully recover, possibly face Demirea’s fierce sword with arms so fragile they looked as if they might snap? Yan had insisted it was far too early for Calian to face that heavy, powerful blade.
He possessed a mysterious talent for stating things with absolute certainty—things that neither Demirea, Calian, nor even Raven would ever believe.
“I will see you next week. Let us spar then.”
Still, this was Demirea. She might ignore others, but she always listened to Yan.
“Since Sir Bern is also here, you will surely be fully recovered by then.”
“Yes. Come whenever you like. I’ll make time for you, no matter what.”
“Understood.”
“But you must bring only your sword. Don’t come asking to call off the engagement.”
“...Yes.”
Demirea knew that his failure to keep their promise was entirely Franz’s fault. Even so, seeing him apologize so sincerely without making excuses or blaming his brother, she decided to let it slide. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have let him set foot in her home, let alone agree to another meeting.
“Then, Demirea, shall we go for a walk? It’s been a while.”
Demirea pulled out her pocket watch, casting a brief glance toward the mansion before shaking her head. “It’s too late for a walk.”
“Ah. I suppose so.”
“Instead… there are a few books I need to buy. If you don’t mind, Your Highness, would you like to come with me?”
The door to the duke’s reception room was made of frosted glass. To reach Demirea’s study, one had to pass through the very hallway where that room was located. Ririe might not notice, but the sharp-witted Franz would surely realize they had returned. Demirea understood that Calian was trying to spend some time outside rather than heading straight to the study. If Franz and Ririe knew they had given up on sparring and were just waiting inside, their conversation would not be as comfortable.
“Sure, let’s go together.”
Calian chuckled softly at her claim that it was too late for a walk but perfectly fine to go buy books, and he nodded in agreement.
Soon, Demirea slipped on a jacket brought by the head butler. Calian handed his cumbersome red cloak to Yan and mounted Raven. A moment later, Demirea was on her own horse. Unlike Raven, who had white fur on his forefeet, her mount was pitch-black, save for its snow-white mane and tail.
Having quickly prepared, the two rode out, leaving Franz, Ririe, Yan, and Relic behind at the mansion.
“It’s quiet. There were quite a few people when we came.”
“It is late, and the Siegfried mansion is located on the outskirts of the capital.”
Along the well-paved road leading to the duke’s estate, the mansions of various nobles were scattered about. They rode past houses with front yards decorated according to their owners’ tastes, even passing the Marquis Manasil’s estate, where a singing and dancing statue was said to stand.
Soon, they reached the end of the street, and Raven turned without hesitation. This was the street where the bird shop Calian had visited to find Kyrie was located. They were heading toward Naeransha Street, known for its market and its many bookstores.
After turning to follow Raven, Demirea rode up beside Calian.
“This is unexpected.”
“What is?”
“I didn’t expect you to know the way to Naeransha Street.”
“I’ve crossed the river to Banensha Street to buy a sword. Naeransha Street is nothing.”
“I doubt Crown Prince Franz knows where it is, though.”
“True. It’s quite funny, isn’t it? The princes of this country have no idea what’s on Naeransha Street, yet the Royal Brother of a neighboring kingdom, who used to raise birds, knows all about it.”
“That is exactly how you get caught. Why must you be so obvious? Royalty has no business going to Naeransha Street.”
He was being scolded.
Calian brushed off Demirea’s words—a mix of worry and gentle reprimand—with a bright smile. He turned and pointed to the long stretch of green bushes lining the road.
“There are a lot of rose bushes on this side of the road.”
“Yes.”
“Are they all red roses?”
It was a clear attempt to change the subject, but Demirea had no intention of nagging him further. She answered without a hint of annoyance.
“No. They are white roses.”
“I see. It must be quite a sight when they’re in full bloom.”
“I hear that when the season comes, they bloom in such abundance that many people come just to see them.”
“Then shall we come back when the flowers bloom, Demirea?”
“Aren’t there plenty of roses in the Royal Palace?”
“They’re all red roses. Red flowers don’t really do much for me.”
“It’s the opposite for me. In the Siegfried territory, there are only white roses. I’ve never felt much of anything for white flowers.”
“Ah, I suppose so.” Nodding as if it made perfect sense, Calian continued, “Since they make so much wine there, it’s only natural that white roses are everywhere.”
Demirea looked surprised. “You know the strangest things, Prince.”
Instead of his usual pleasant smile, Calian offered only a small, faint one. “They grow a lot of grapes in Secritia, too. I didn’t live like the princes here did. I wandered around and saw many things. I’ve traveled enough to know at least that much.”
Rose bushes.
White rose bushes in vineyards.
Wherever one went, there were always a few rose bushes planted at the edge of a vineyard. Some places grew pale pink or even bright yellow ones, but most grew white roses. When the season arrived, one could easily see them blooming in a corner of the vast vineyards.
Yet, Demirea had rarely thought of them as beautiful. They weren’t planted for aesthetic purposes, unlike the bushes lining the street they had just passed.
“Is that why you said you wanted to see white roses?”
“The white roses here were planted simply because they’re beautiful, with no connection to grapes. I think they’ll look even better when they’re in full bloom.”
Rose bushes in vineyards were planted for a single reason: they were more vulnerable to pests and diseases than grapevines.
When the white rose petals scorched brown, became infested, or withered, people would treat the grapevines and change their water. They prepared to prevent the same damage from befalling the grapes.
Seeing the already ailing white roses, they checked on the grapes.
Instead of tending to the already ailing white roses, they prioritized the grapes.
“It’s not that I don’t know why they’re planted. I just… find it a bit sad.”
Lemain’s third son.
The young lion of Brissen.
And Bern of Bern.
Weren’t they all just ailing white roses?
Only after realizing his third son had nearly died did the father turn his gaze to his other sons. Only after growing up behind the bars of Brissen did the young lion look back at the sibling who shared his cage. And only after throwing himself into the abyss did the one who fell try to pull out another who was about to plunge into that same abyss.
“I can’t help but feel a lingering regret now, wondering if both the roses and the grapes could have been cared for so that neither had to be hurt. That’s just how I feel. What do you think, Demirea?”
How wonderful would it have been if both the white roses and the grapes had simply been cared for together, so neither ever had to suffer? He gave voice to the thought that had suddenly crossed his mind.
Demirea, who had been staring at the rose bushes, turned to look at Calian.
“When the well-cared-for white roses are in full bloom, I will come out to buy another book.”
And with that, she said no more.
*
Thin cookie dough was cut into circles. Fruit jam was placed in the center, folded in half to hide the filling, and baked until crisp.
Half-moon-shaped cookies with hidden fillings.
Some were filled with strawberry jam, others with fig. Some held apricot or coconut, while others were filled with milk or chocolate jam.
Upon discovering the existence of unripe-pear-flavored candies, Serie had given Suleiman a harsh scolding. Thanks to her, the second batch of snacks the couple prepared for Ririe contained no astringent or bitter jams. Naturally, there were no flower-infused ones, either.
“Your Highness, what flavor is that?”
The walls around a child’s heart were like ice. Left in the cold for even a moment, they would harden, and if broken carelessly, they would leave deep scars. The height of that icy wall was the same as the child’s, making it nearly invisible to the adults looking down from above. Indeed, that low wall of transparent ice was difficult to notice unless one paid close attention.
Yet, despite being so hard to detect, that very wall could melt away without a trace at the slightest touch of warmth.
“I think it’s mango.”
“Ah, I had the mango one, too! It was delicious.”
“I see.”
Though they had exchanged only a few words, she had clearly changed. Her face had brightened, and her eyes had cleared.
When he showed her the remaining half of a cookie smaller than his thumb, Ririe smiled at the yellow jam inside. He didn’t know what was so amusing, but she smiled as if she had met spring upon seeing the yellow filling, which resembled a Fredia flower. Then, she held up the half of her own cookie to show him.
The child who had been terrified, wondering if he disliked her or had come to send her away, was gone. In her place was a bright, innocent girl.
“I think mine is pomegranate jam.”
“I see.”
But Franz was clumsy.
Children under the age of ten were not allowed inside the Royal Palace. It wasn’t a codified law, but it had become the norm. Fearing a child might not distinguish between members of the royal family and make a mistake, the nobles had established the rule and labeled it etiquette.
Thus, he was clumsy.
Excluding his own brothers, he had never sat this close to a child under ten. He had never even shared a proper conversation with Calian during their childhood.
“Which flavor do you like best, Your Highness?”
In truth, he didn’t like sweet things.
The strawberry jam, which he might have tolerated, had not appeared. The Duke and Duchess had hidden the fillings so skillfully that it was impossible to tell what was inside just by looking. As a result, despite choosing carefully, he had only ended up with non-strawberry flavors. Among the five sweet cookies he had eaten so far, not a single one had suited his palate.
Washing down the sweetness with a sip of black tea, Franz chose his words.
“They are all delicious.”
He hadn’t forgotten his rascal of a brother’s warning not to be too blunt. But because he was clumsy, he couldn’t manage a long sentence or pick one flavor and explain why he liked it. However, his claim that they were all delicious wasn’t a lie. Though they didn’t suit his taste, they were indeed delicious. It sounded contradictory, but it was the truth.
The half-moon cookies whose fillings couldn’t be guessed from the outside. The candies whose flavors couldn’t be determined by color alone, which Ririe had called her absolute favorite.
Franz had immediately recognized the meaning hidden within them.
“All of them. Were delicious.”
“I’m glad.”
“...And you?”
“Me?”
“Which one did you like best?”
Ririe looked at Franz for a moment, then gave a shy smile. “The banana jam. That was my favorite, Your Highness.”
Of all things, it had to be banana.
Franz let out a soft chuckle. It was the very fruit his loud-mouthed younger brother sought out whenever he barely escaped death. That was why Hina was so wary of bananas. If Hina had been here, she would have glared with those big eyes of hers the moment the fruit was mentioned.
“I see.”
Seeing Franz smile, Ririe beamed once more and picked up another cookie. “Wow, I think this is pineapple jam. I’ve never had pineapple flavor before.”
She showed him the inside of the cookie, which was a mix of yellow and orange. Watching her, Franz suddenly spoke.
“Do you happen to know where pineapples grow?”
He had asked without thinking. Even Franz himself was slightly surprised the words had slipped out.
Ririe furrowed her small brow, thought for a moment, and answered, “I think they grow on trees.”
“No. They grow from the ground.”
“Pineapples grow from the ground?”
Nodding, Franz explained, “Purple flowers bloom amidst long, sharp grass. The pineapple grows from inside that.”
He gestured with his hands, describing the sight as if painting a picture from the indoor garden of the Elf village.
—It is a pineapple. As the flower in the center grows larger, the pineapple emerges from within.
Adding the explanation he had heard back then, Franz shared the fact that he, too, had found quite fascinating. He told her about the many fruit trees he had seen and learned of, explaining that while some plants yielded fruit, others had stems that could be cut to heal wounds. Bit by bit, they exchanged a few more words and shared a few more answers.
“But… may I ask you one more thing?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you also have a dog, Your Highness?”
It seemed Ririe’s gaze had finally landed on the cat hair clinging to Franz’s clothes. Although Yan, the brown poodle, didn’t shed much, he wasn’t completely shed-free. Ririe, who had occasionally amused herself by picking Yan’s hairs off her own clothes, asked if Franz also raised a dog.
“No. Cats… two of them.”
There was actually one more pitch-black creature that seemed closer to a dog than a cat, but in Franz’s biological classification system, that fellow was not a quadruped, making it difficult to categorize. He excluded it from the count.
Franz picked two different types of fur from his collar and showed them to her.
“This is the white cat, Lucy. And this is the gray cat, Anne.”
“Ah, cats! I like cats, too. Is their fur long?”
“Lucy’s is short, and Anne’s is a bit long.”
“What do they look like? Are they pretty?”
“They are pretty. Both of them. Their backs stretch endlessly. They get very flat, sometimes they look crumpled, and their bellies are round. They are warm. The colors of their paws and noses are different, too. Lucy’s is…”
Listening to his description as he recalled Lucy and Anne, Ririe’s face filled with wonder.
“Cats must shed a lot. There’s so much fur on your clothes, Your Highness.”
“It’s not shedding… it’s more like they’re emitting it. Especially Anne.”
Hearing this, Ririe laughed out loud for the first time. Franz had been completely serious, but she found it highly amusing.
Watching her face, Franz spoke quietly.
“...Come to the Royal Palace. If you do, I will show you. The cats.”
And then:
“There are many other fascinating things there.”
A place with two cats, one duck, and white, black, platinum, and brown horses. A place with a loud-barking black cat, a blue bird, carrier pigeons, one esteemed cow, and many red roses.
For the first time, he had invited someone to such a special place.
“I will go. I will definitely go see them. I will go with Demirea, Your Highness.”
Ririe repeated the words several times, her face full of anticipation.
It wasn’t a place she was dragged to by force or brought to after being rescued. It was a place she was invited to. The very first place she had ever been invited to. A place she was given permission to visit.
She promised herself she would go.
*
Calian stared blankly at the object being held out to him.
“No way…”
Upon returning from his outing with Demirea, Calian found Franz waiting in the garden. He had already sent Ririe to her room, as it was long past her bedtime. Realizing how late it was, Calian quickly threw on his red cloak and stepped out of the duke’s mansion.
No sooner had he passed through the gates, with Demirea seeing him off, than Franz handed him yet another item. Seeing the package, which was meticulously wrapped in pale beige paper and tied with a pretty red ribbon, Calian asked, “Is it jerky again?”
“No.”
Over the past while, Franz had handed him several things without a word: a banana peeled from the wrong end, a woefully insufficient amount of bandages, and jerky. Since two of those few items had been jerky, it wasn’t paranoia to suspect he was being given the same thing again.
“Then what is it?”
“To eat.”
“For me to eat?”
“Yes.”
“Jerky is also for eating.”
“Not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Cookies.”
“...Brother, please tell me you didn’t speak to that child so bluntly.”
“I didn’t.”
“That’s a relief. But why are you giving me normal snacks all of a sudden?”
Of course, bananas and jerky were snacks, but cookies felt different. They were purely for enjoyment, not something you’d share with an animal or something so tough that even an animal wouldn’t eat it.
“Ririe. Told me to give them to you.”
“They’re for me?”
“Yes.”
“...That’s unexpected. I didn’t think she would have thought of me.”
“She knows exactly what you did that day. Didn’t you know?”
“No, I heard she remembers me.”
“She said you weren’t scary. She wanted me to tell you she was giving them to you out of gratitude.”
Calian opened his mouth to say, “Is that so?” but no sound came out. He simply nodded.
On the way back to the Royal Palace, Calian stared at the paper package, its contents a mystery. Soon, he untied the ribbon. He was riding Raven, who kept his stride perfectly steady, but even on a violently galloping horse, Calian was confident he wouldn’t drop a single cookie.
Removing the red ribbon and carefully opening the paper, he saw the half-moon-shaped cookies. Calian picked one up, popped it into his mouth, and smiled at the savory taste of coconut.
“It seems to have coconut jam. It’s well-made. Delicious.”
Calian had no way of knowing who had made the cookies. The clever Franz, who knew all too well that ignorance could be bliss, did not bother to reveal whose thick hands had made half of them.
Unaware of his brother’s deep consideration, Calian turned his gaze back to his hand. Expecting the coconut flavor he had quite enjoyed, he picked up another cookie and popped it into his mouth.
“...Ugh.”
It was a taste that vividly brought to mind Corn Silk.
Grapefruit. It was filled with grapefruit jam.
Quickly swallowing the rest of the cookie, Calian stared at the remaining treats in his hand. Something felt strange. Wanting to wash away the lingering taste, he picked up another small cookie and ate it.
Crunch!
Chewing and swallowing the cookie filled with tart kiwi jam, Calian burst into laughter.
At the sudden sound, Raven perked his ears. Calian stroked his black mane apologetically and picked up the next one. After eating a cookie filled with raspberry jam, he burst into laughter once more.
“Yan, try this. Every single one tastes different.”
“Relic and I already ate plenty. You eat them all, Prince.”
These cookies were a gift of gratitude, given to the third prince who wasn't scary at all.
What meaning had she imbued them with? How had she hoped they would be received?
Calian’s mind drifted. First, the grapes had been tended to, and now the rose bushes were healing as well.
Would Ririe ever know?
"Is there rose jam inside that one?" Yan asked.
"No clue," Calian replied. "I don't know what's in any of them."
"Do you like them?"
"Yes. They're delicious."
He thoroughly enjoyed the cookies, even without knowing what flavor would come next.
"These are delicious," he murmured, almost to himself.
He truly, genuinely meant it.