Chapter 360: A True Wish (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 360: A True Wish (5)
In the end, it was always the same.
Just look straight ahead and walk.
Don’t let your eyes wander. Look only ahead.
Don’t look back. Just keep going, looking only ahead.
Someone had told him to walk like that once. Their scent was one he could never forget, and he remembered them telling him to walk while looking only forward.
Today, he heard those same tired words again.
‘Why?’
‘A prince must build relations with the nobles, but an heir to the throne must reign over them. Therefore, once you enter the council chamber, do not look around. Look only ahead and walk. You need only receive their greetings. There is no need to exchange them.’
‘…My younger brother seems intent on raising me to the heavens for some reason.’
‘Yes. That is correct.’
‘I thought this was a position I would be stepping down from soon. Was I wrong?’
‘If you step down from the position of Crown Prince right now, you will die, Brother. Even if you only appear as a Crown Prince who socializes with the nobles, you will die.’
But this was different.
‘In Secritia, that position might have been a lifeline thrown to a brother on the edge of a cliff, but here, it is a noose. If you cast it off, you fall to your death. If you keep wearing it, you’ll be strangled. So do not act as if you will step down. Act as if you will only keep climbing, no matter what. Hold onto that noose, if only to endure for a moment longer.’
‘And if I endure?’
‘I will find a way to save you.’
They were the same words, but he knew they were different.
He was hearing the exact same advice, but he knew… this was not the same as back then.
He knew that now.
*
There are two kinds of people in the world.
Those who must be killed and disposed of.
And those who must not die—those who must be saved at all costs.
The reason there are three categories but Calian calls them “two kinds” is because he doesn’t consider the first category human.
Of course, to Calian, most of the continent’s breathing population belonged to the “human” category. In truth, wasn’t he a gentle soul who rarely angered, possessed deep compassion, had a heart as beautiful as his face, and even grew peas exceptionally well?
…Or so Calian believed.
In any case, if someone was categorized as “must be killed and disposed of” by the otherwise affectionate and humane Calian, then that person truly deserved to die. And proudly taking the number one spot among them was, without a doubt, Marquis Gray Brissen. Since anyone who might have surpassed Gray had either already been killed by Calian or had yet to be met, it was only right that Gray held the top spot for now.
The fact that he had owned several “annexes” before his once-sturdy waist suffered an unfortunate accident, or that he had brutally killed a knight who had made a mistake involving Hina and Kyrie just to vent his anger—these incidents were merely the tip of the iceberg. Gray was Evan’s son, after all. There was a very good reason Evan had been particularly wary of Gray and kept him at a distance.
“Marquis Brissen is enduring it better than I expected. It must hurt,” the young duchess, who knew all this well, offered a relaxed assessment. Demirea was not one to pity a man who took the lives of his people for petty reasons—like feeling inexplicably displeased, finding them an eyesore, or because they had learned something they shouldn’t have.
“Even if his vital point is gripped, he can’t show his pain.”
“Indeed. He cannot afford to let it slip that he is not a Sword Master. Still, I don’t understand why he always acts out when he has such a massive weakness.”
“Because a Brissen knows nothing else.”
“Don’t lump them all under that name. Ririe is not like that.”
“Except for her,” Franz immediately conceded.
A faint smile touched Demirea’s lips before she spoke again. “Anyway, I am a bit worried. I hope the Prince doesn’t end up snapping Marquis Brissen’s neck in front of all the nobles.”
“That won’t happen.”
“You say that so confidently, but he’s someone who easily forgets to weigh the consequences. Aren’t you putting a little too much faith in the Prince, Your Royal Highness?”
“My younger brother only bites his prey.”
“……Is that the reason?”
The basis of his trust was rather bizarre. She had just learned how her fiancé’s older brother viewed her fiancé, yet she realized there was nothing she could say to refute it. It was complicated enough having a hound-like older brother, but now that she had a hound-like fiancé as well, she couldn’t quite describe her feelings. Demirea took a moment to compose her momentarily conflicted expression.
Soon, she glanced around. Gray Brissen was not yet prey to be hunted but someone who had to be kept alive, and Franz’s words meant Calian wouldn’t lose his head and forget that. Thus, she decided to worry about something else. Although she had lowered her voice and knew they were far from the other nobles, she still checked to make sure no one had overheard.
Fortunately, no one seemed to have heard. Turning her head slightly, she saw Franz, who had returned with a displeased look on his face, watching Calian and Gray.
“Why do you look so displeased? Is it because the Prince’s method is too radical?”
“Unlike usual…”
“You seemed so confident that he wouldn’t bite.”
“It seems my younger brother is raising a shield in front of me again.”
He trusted that Calian wouldn’t snap Gray’s neck, but he despised the intention behind the act. He recalled Suleiman laughing cheerfully while saying, ‘I walked into the dining hall smelling faintly of Siona’s blood after treating her, and my future son-in-law immediately raised a shield in front of the Crown Prince. Seeing that, it seems none of the King’s brothers who succeed Lemain’s generation will ever make it to the Tower.’ The memory helped Demirea quickly understand Franz’s words.
“The nobles don’t know that Marquis Brissen isn’t a Sword Master, nor do they know the true extent of Prince Calian’s power. Right now, no one would suspect that the Marquis bowed his head because he was overpowered.”
“I know.”
“So, this is simply a warning aimed at Gray Brissen. Despite sending gifts and offering congratulations, he has been trying to drive a wedge between you and the Prince while constantly contacting Prince Randel. This will be seen as the Third Prince’s warning against such behavior—not through physical force, but by using Alan Manasil and Siegfried as his backing to suppress the Marquis.”
Franz nodded.
“And… without going to such lengths, how else could he divert the arrows of Marquis Brissen or the blades of assassins away from the Crown Prince?”
“That… isn’t diverting them. Isn’t he trying to redirect them?”
“Yes. It seems he’s redirecting them toward himself. Were you displeased because the Prince is taking risks for your sake, Your Royal Highness?”
“Naturally.”
“The Prince is not someone who cannot block a mere arrow or blade.”
Franz did not reply. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Gray Brissen.
Throughout his rather long conversation with Demirea, Gray remained bent at the waist. It was only natural. Unless Lemain himself entered the room or Calian released his grip, Gray would never be able to stand on his own.
“I understand you must be delighted to see us after such a long time,” a low, flat voice flowed from Calian’s mouth. It wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone to hear. “But even so, shouldn’t you maintain proper etiquette, Marquis Brissen?”
Gray’s face turned from bright red to a dark, bruised shade. He had merely refrained from greeting Franz once to show his lack of support, and the price he was paying was painfully high.
Whether his face was flushed from pain, anger, embarrassment, or resentment at being humiliated before so many nobles, Calian didn’t particularly care.
“I was… momentarily lost in thought.”
After all, Gray would endure it. He would have realized by now that although he was someone who deserved to die, he was being kept alive for the moment because he still had some utility.
Just as Gray Brissen had always viewed his own people.
Gray, answering quietly, cast his gaze down to Calian’s boots. Realizing the grip did not loosen even after his apology, he bit the inside of his lip hard. He knew all too well that if he showed even a shred of killing intent, he would follow in Lennon’s footsteps and end up staining the Lenisita leaves.
“I have committed a discourtesy to His Royal Highness Crown Prince Franz.”
Thus, he offered an apology that was not a true apology.
Franz, who had been staring down at Gray from a distance, shifted his gaze to Calian. Although Calian had never mentioned he would do this, Franz knew exactly what was required of him.
“I understand,” he said, granting his forgiveness.
More precisely, he was commanding Calian to forgive him.
Rustle.
The sound of Calian’s collar brushing against the back of Gray’s neck echoed softly. The hem of a pitch-black jacket, black trousers, and spotless boots took a single step back.
Gray raised his head.
Calian swept a cold gaze over him before turning around.
“Is this not the first time my brother has stood before you all since ascending to the position of Crown Prince? It saddens me to see that many still seem unaccustomed to the change. Therefore, I merely conveyed my thoughts to the Marquis, who represents the nobility. I hope you will not take offense.”
He was saying that because everyone present had failed to show proper respect to Franz, he had bent the waist of Gray, the highest-ranking noble among them. In the end, it meant Calian had not just scolded Gray Brissen alone.
At the words that seemed to slightly restore his shattered dignity, Gray, who had almost let his killing intent slip, bit the inside of his lip once more.
It was truly a case of a cat feigning concern for a mouse. After forcing him to bow, Calian was now showing meticulous consideration so that Gray wouldn’t lose face.
“……How could we possibly think that way?”
At the word “we,” the corners of Calian’s mouth curled up slightly. He found Gray’s mind—which managed to preserve its pride even while his head was bowed—to be incomparably sharper than Evan’s.
“Then I am glad.”
It was certain that, for the time being, no noble would dare greet Franz with a mere nod. They had all learned what would happen if they failed to treat the Crown Prince with proper respect.
They would also have realized that if they did not support Franz, the person they needed to watch out for was not Franz himself. They had learned a harsh lesson: rather than targeting the new Crown Prince, they would first have to break Calian, who stood blocking his path.
He had silenced the nobles’ rumors, flaunted his “brotherly affection” to warn his own supporters against harming Franz, forced the nobles still trying to align with Gray to give up, re-taught them all proper etiquette, and delivered a sharp warning to Gray himself. And since pressing down too hard would cause a rebound, he had loosened his grip just enough.
While he was at it, he had even vented a bit of his own lingering resentment toward Franz.
Having achieved everything he wanted, Calian offered a bright, beaming smile, as if he had truly just been saddened by their behavior, with absolutely no malice intended.
*
A small house sat by the window where a warm breeze blew gently. A hammock was hung inside it, a plush cushion placed within.
Lucy liked the hammock, and Anne liked the cushion. Each climbed into their favorite spot and closed their eyes contentedly under the leisurely afternoon sun. It was a peaceful time, filled with the quiet sound of Anne’s purring.
“So,” Franz said, speaking to Calian, who was slicing a piece of meat with a carefree expression. “You certainly raised me up to the heavens.”
“Fortunately, Demirea helped, which made it easier.”
“I thought you two had discussed it beforehand. Was that not the case?”
“No. If I had to ask her for something like that, I would have had to spar with her until my bones wore down.”
While Calian suppressed Gray, Demirea had quickly figured out her role as Calian’s fiancée and had not left Franz’s side. By remaining with him and conversing, she signaled that Siegfried also had no objections to Franz’s appointment as Crown Prince. Despite how dry and awkward their relationship usually was, their teamwork was incredibly seamless at times like this. The two of them had firmly established Franz’s position in a single council meeting.
“Then what do you plan to do now?”
“About what?”
“Bringing me back down. I’m curious how you plan to do that.”
The tender, well-boiled beef tore easily along the grain. Calian dipped it into a sauce of grated apple and radish, smiling with satisfaction. It suited his palate.
“I haven’t thought about how to bring you down from the position of Crown Prince yet, Brother.”
Hearing this, Franz narrowed his eyes.
“Anyway, since you agreed to this, just enjoy it for a bit. Didn’t you say you also have an apology to receive from Brother Randel?”
“You pulled off such a stunt without even having a plan?”
“If I hadn’t done that today, you would have met an assassin by tomorrow night.”
“……Ha.”
Calian spoke as if it were nothing. He took a sip of sparkling water that carried a subtle scent of peach and said, “I will find my own place.”
“You are far too confident.”
“I have to be, if I’m to grant your wish, Brother.”
Hearing this sudden remark, Franz set down the grilled bacon he was about to eat. “I’ve already eaten cod and arrived safely in Kairis, have I not?”
“Not things like that. You have a true wish.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“Yes.”
“……I see.”
“Anyway, don’t worry. It’s not a difficult task, is it?” Calian stared at Franz for a moment, then spoke in a calm voice.
“If you’re too high up and it becomes difficult to bring you down, I can just build another heaven and climb even higher.”
After all, skipping the position of Crown Prince and becoming King is also an option.
His voice was perfectly calm, as if nothing in the world was difficult at all.