Chapter 362: That White and Red Rose (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 362: That White and Red Rose (2)
When had it been?
He quietly closed his eyes, trying to place the time.
May. The month of Lemain's birthday.
May, which held the birthday of the current King of Kairis, was the month of the grandest festival on the continent. This also meant it was a time when Bern had many concerns. With countless visitors from various countries flocking to Kairis, it was the perfect opportunity to infiltrate Secritian spies into the kingdom.
Therefore, he had checked everything meticulously.
He had gathered and memorized every piece of news he could find: the Kairis royal family's schedule during the celebration, the list of visiting guests, the events being held, and whether the King of Kairis showed any sign of detecting the spies. He remembered it all so clearly that he could recall in detail when the great mage Alan Manasil had visited Kairis and why he had turned back.
—Randel, the 1st Prince of Kairis, has met with an accident.
Thus, he also knew about the incident concerning Randel.
The accident that befell Randel at the equestrian arena, a place he frequented as if it were an annual event. He knew the full story of how Melfir Polun had been framed as the mastermind and subsequently executed.
—The injured Prince Randel has traveled to Tensil to recuperate.
That accident.
He recalled the incident that had forced Randel to leave Kairis. And in doing so, he realized a truth he hadn't known back when he first remembered the event, prevented it, and saved Melfir.
‘There are healers in Kairis. Besides, why would Brother Randel, who can heal himself, go all the way to Tensil for an injury of that level?’
In the past, Randel had neither sought treatment from the Kairis royal healers nor healed himself. Instead, he had stayed in Tensil for several months under the pretext of recuperation before returning.
‘It must have been because he knew Brissen was behind it.’
Randel must have been avoiding Brissen. Knowing it was their doing and not Melfir’s, he had used a minor injury as an excuse to flee Kairis. He probably couldn't trust the Tensil healers stationed in the capital, nor could he reveal his own ability to self-heal, so he had used the injury as a cover to go to Tensil directly.
‘If that’s the case, then as I suspected…'
Whether he fled because he wanted to live, or because he didn't want to die.
The reason the prince, who had kept his eyes closed and ears shut while doing nothing but tending to his roses, had fled over such a minor injury. The reason he could immediately connect the accident to Brissen.
That day’s accident must not have been the first.
He must have faced a threat to his life at least once before.
"Brother."
His train of thought complete, Calian’s red eyes opened once more.
They turned toward a pair of light green eyes.
Without a word, the light green eyes, which had been staring at the feet blocking their path, lifted to meet the red. The eyes that had begun to embrace the world met the eyes that had begun to shut it out.
"Brother Franz."
Had it been a long time?
The thought occurred to him suddenly.
It had been a long time since he felt such coldness.
It had been a long time since he wondered how eyes so red could turn so cold. It wasn't a look deliberately crafted for an audience, but an emotion slipping out beyond his control. It had been a long time since he had faced such an expression.
Was that gaze unfamiliar?
Had it somehow become unfamiliar to hear his name called by that voice, with those eyes?
“……Why?”
Had so many days passed?
Had so much time flown by?
Enough for that call to feel strange.
Before he even realized it.
"I would like you to tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"You aren't so dense that you wouldn't know what I want to ask."
"No. I don't know."
"Whether Brother Randel knew… and whether you knew that Brother Randel knew. That is what I want to know."
"So, what? What is it that Brother and I supposedly knew?"
"That Brother Randel also received the tea I was given every morning. And therefore, that I, too…"
In the past.
During the brief moment the light on the fifth floor of Chermil Palace went out, the chance for the light on the third floor to ever turn on vanished forever.
And so, the fourth floor of Chermil Palace was left to shine alone.
"……that I, too, would receive poisoned tea."
"Calian."
"Whether Brother Randel knew. And whether you knew it as well. I want to know."
The memory that the old Calian had erased.
The memory that the old Calian had kept.
Standing upon the remnants of his predecessor, Calian searched for a target for his resentment with cold eyes. It was not resentment on behalf of the old Calian, but a resentment he held because he was now fully Calian. Franz knew that was the emotion contained in his gaze.
It was truly ironic.
It was those eyes that had first made him realize Calian had changed, yet now, it was those very same eyes that made him realize Calian hadn't changed at all.
"Nothing… would have changed. Even if we had known."
"Do you truly believe that?"
"Yes."
"Liar. Again."
At Calian's pressing words, a coldness seeped into Franz's eyes as well.
—Nothing would have changed? Do you truly believe that?
—Am I wrong?
—If you hadn't closed your eyes and turned away, Brother, everything would have changed.
—Yes, I suppose so. At the very least, one brother willing to listen to your meaningless tantrums would have vanished. That would be a significant change. Is that why you're acting so regretful? Is it so regrettable that your mother failed to remove an obstacle from your path?
"……If we knew. If we had known. If Brother could have known what was in the tea your servant brought every morning. If I had known that. What would have changed? What on earth would have changed?"
Franz, with the exact same look in his eyes as Calian, uttered the exact same response as the Randel in his memory. In turn, Calian, with the exact same look in his eyes as Franz, gave the exact same answer as the Franz of that day.
"Anything. Anything would have changed. Somehow."
"It should have changed……"
Though nothing had changed, in truth, anything and everything should have.
Something should have changed.
But it didn't.
—Yes. It is regrettable.
Most regrettably.
*
Clack.
The person who set down the teacup parted his lips, but no words escaped. After staring for a long moment at the tea, which rippled slightly before settling, he took a step back. Then, as if unable to help himself, he stepped forward again and spoke with a cautious expression.
"It rained at dawn."
The words he had so carefully chosen were merely about the rain. He didn't suggest they should do something or look at something because of it; he simply stated the fact.
Tick, tock, tick, tock…
In that place, where there was no white cat, grey cat, or black cat, the ticking of a clock echoed softly.
Surprised that the servant, who should have just set down the teacup and left, had spoken to him, the man who had been gazing at the gentle aroma of black tea raised his head. He replied in a flat, emotionless voice.
"Yes. I heard it."
"Yes, Prince."
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Instead of a human voice, the clock filled the silence once more.
The servant remained standing there quietly. Randel's servant, Den, spoke again.
"Would it be all right if I drew back the curtains for you?"
It had rained, so would it be alright to draw back the curtains?
Den's gaze, as he carefully offered words whose connection was hard to discern, was not directed outside. It rested on Randel's desk—specifically, on Calian's gift.
A gift that surely held many meanings, though Den could not fathom them all. The ornate box containing the priceless garden shears gleamed under his gaze.
"Leave them."
"……The weather is fine."
Randel had drawn the curtains after his two brothers returned from their brief departure from Chermil Palace. Whether it rained, the sun set, the moon rose, or the wind blew—he lived ignoring it all. Days had passed since he began living like that, but nothing had changed.
He did not go out to the garden, either.
"That is enough. Leave them."
Not even when told the spring rain was falling.
*
In the end, Franz did not give an answer.
He never clearly explained what he wanted Randel to apologize for, what he and Randel had known, or what had been said between them.
‘Do not… misunderstand. I told you he didn't know.’
He had only conveyed those words.
That Randel had not known beforehand what would be in Calian's tea.
That in itself was the answer to all of Calian's questions.
It meant that Randel could have known that poisoned tea was being delivered to the old Calian, but he simply hadn't cared. Because of that, Franz had noticed Randel's indifferent ignorance. The rift between the two, already deep, had widened completely, and Randel had become Franz's Renieri. It was as if Calian had discovered all of this at once.
"It is not that he did not give you an answer, but that he cannot bring himself to speak of it," the wise archmage said upon hearing the story.
"It must be because of me."
"Yes. It is because of you, Prince."
"Because it concerns me."
"Yes. It is because it concerns you, Prince."
Setting down the mint tea—the hardest tea to brew, for it had to be the most delicious in the world—Alan offered a gentle smile.
"What was lost and what was gained in that incident are one and the same. How could he possibly explain that to you in detail, Prince?"
In the place where the old Calian vanished, the new Calian entered.
Because the old Calian vanished, the new Calian lives.
What was lost and what was gained are one and the same. Therefore, Franz cannot tell Calian how the old Calian vanished. The space left behind was not empty.
How could he say to the brother who lives now because the other is gone, I might have been able to save him? How could he utter words that would change absolutely nothing?
"Do you resent them?"
"Resent whom, exactly?"
"Everyone you are thinking of, surely. Brissen, His Majesty, His Highness, Prince Randel. Do you not feel resentment toward them?"
"I can't say I feel none. I resent all those who closed their eyes, shut their ears, inflicted wounds, and ultimately sent him away. However…"
"Do you also understand why Prince Randel could not step forward?"
"……Yes. If I say I resent him but also understand him… If I say I understand him but still resent him, is that hypocrisy?"
"For me to give you an answer to that would be hypocrisy itself."
Calian was the only one granted the right to feel resentment on behalf of the old Calian. What could Alan possibly say?
"I both resent and understand. That is how it is. I do not know what would have become of me had that child lived, but that’s how I feel. I wonder if he could have been saved. I regret that. Is that also hypocrisy?"
"Rather than hypocrisy… I would call it a sad thing. That you must live a life where you have to weigh such matters."
Calian let out a small chuckle.
"It is fine. I already decided I would no longer dwell on the past. I will resent for a moment, then eventually understand, but still regret it a little. I will continue to live like that. That is why I am fine."
Answering calmly, Calian reached out, picked up a tangerine sent from Secritia, and began to peel it. He stared for a moment at the bright, sweet flesh revealed by his practiced hands before handing it to his master—a reward for the affectionate mint tea and comforting words.
"However, Father, I came because of a different worry. It’s so troubling that I had to speak it aloud. I needed to talk to someone about it."
"What is it that worries you so deeply?"
"A worry about myself."
Answering without concealment, Calian took a sip of mint tea. He clenched and unclenched the hand that had set down the cup before continuing.
"Baron Polun, Hina, Eila… everyone is living well now, unlike in the past. I am the only one who hasn't changed."
He was not speaking of Bern, nor of his current self. He was referring to the old Calian, who had yielded his body and departed on the same day as he had in the original past.
"That child helped me. He corrected the awkward speech of the stranger who took over his body and passed on his memories. He even comforted me, telling me to live on without guilt because he understood everything. He left after doing all that."
"Yes, you said so."
"So at first, I wondered if it was for revenge. I thought that even though he left expressing worry for those he left behind, he might not have been sincere. Perhaps in his heart, he resented and cursed everyone. Believing he couldn't change his own future, maybe he yielded his place to me out of a desire for revenge, hoping I would avenge him. I believed that. I thought it would have been better if he had left with such intentions. But then I found out he had erased his memories of Brother Randel."
Alan popped a segment of tangerine into his mouth and swallowed, watching Calian without a word.
"If what he wanted was revenge… wouldn't the memory he should have erased be Brother Franz's contradictory behavior, rather than Brother Randel's indifference?"
"Are you saying the former prince wanted you, the current prince, to understand Crown Prince Franz and not hate Prince Randel?"
"Yes. I wonder if he was worried that I wouldn't accept my new brothers. I can't help but think that is why he hid and erased those memories."
What if the old Calian had done the opposite?
What if he had erased all memories of how Franz acted differently when they were alone, but kept the memory that Randel might have also been drinking poisoned tea?
If he had made sure the current Calian couldn't grasp Franz's true intentions while keeping Randel's indifference fresh in his mind, would Calian have ever tried to understand his brothers? Even if he eventually did, would he have accepted them so quickly?
Probably not.
"Isn't that a contradiction, Father? If that child was so worried that the person taking over his body would hate his brothers and seek revenge—worried enough to erase his own memories—then there was no reason for him to yield his body and help me in the first place. Wouldn't it have been better not to help me at all? To let me fail to adapt, fail to adjust, and have my identity exposed immediately, so that I would end up in the tower or standing upon the Lenisita leaves in the square."
"……Yes. That could be so."
"That is why I am worried. I am worried that, perhaps, he never wanted any of this. That he was forced into it."
"What do you mean by 'never wanted any of this'?"
"What if he didn't want me entering this body? What if yielding his body to me despite such deep concerns was forced upon him? What if he didn't want to, but was made to understand? And what if he helped me while setting up his own safeguards? That is what I think."
"Are you referring to Serenti?"
"Whether it was Serenti, Danu, Sispanian, or someone else."
Even if I don't know the reason, what if all of this was someone's arrangement?
What if they forced that child to help Bern, telling him that since his life was destined to end early anyway, he might as well make good use of it? What if the old Calian had understood and accepted such an absurd demand?
Then that child…
Even as he complied, did he still worry that Bern might harm his brothers? Was erasing his memories of Randel his own small act of defiance?
"I am worried that it was a forced understanding. If that is the case… whoever orchestrated this, I…"
Because he was worried.
Because he was so grief-stricken that he couldn't bear it unless he came to Alan and poured everything out.
"I don't think I could ever forgive them."
Alan let out a deep groan.
Calian's voice was so incredibly bitter that it soured the sweet tangerine in Alan's mouth.
"If what you say is true, Prince…"
Alan, swallowing the sour taste, began to speak. But his next words never came.
"……!"
His gaze shot toward the distance.
Calian hurriedly stood. His gaze was fixed on the same place as Alan's.
"Master."
"Yes. It is Chermil Palace."
Chermil Palace.
A massive surge of mana had suddenly begun to swirl there.
Soon, Alan looked at Calian, his expression calm, as if he had already seen what was happening.
"Go and stop them. I will make sure no commotion arises."
Contrary to his quiet words, a powerful aura of mana emanated from Alan's body. Calian, still unable to grasp the situation, was about to ask a question when—
Knock, knock!
An urgent knock echoed through the office. The door burst open without permission.
"My apologies. I will accept punishment for my rudeness later. I came because I believed it best for Prince Calian to intervene before things get out of hand."
An apology, followed by polite yet urgent words.
"His Highness Crown Prince Franz has broken onto Prince Randel's terrace. I barely managed to stop Den from calling the guards before running here. Please, stop His Highness."
Relic's explanation made it clear that he, too, found the situation absurd. Hearing this, Alan replied in a leisurely voice.
"Actually, the one you serve has already broken the window upstairs."
"Pardon? His Highness did?"
"Indeed."
Apparently, Franz had crossed over to Randel's terrace. While Relic had run to find Calian, the impatient Franz had gone ahead and smashed Randel's window. Since Alan would block the security magic anyway, Franz had apparently decided, 'To hell with it,' and smashed the window to demand the greeting he never received—and while he was at it, an apology too.
Calian looked back and forth between Alan—who had temporarily disabled Sispanian's security magic—and Relic, then covered his face with his palm. The painful words he had just shared with Alan were completely forgotten.
"……Ah……"
What did I teach him for him to turn out like this?
"This is driving me crazy……"
Ah.
Honestly…
That angsty pea is going to drive me insane.