Chapter 366: That White and Red Rose (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 366: That White and Red Rose (6)
Would it be an answer to say he knew he was wrong?
Would it be an answer to explain why he had looked away?
Would it be an answer to promise he would never do so again?
Would any of it be an answer?
Be quiet. Do not step forward. Do not reach out carelessly. Anything you say now will only be a thorn, so just keep your mouth shut and start by watching from the side. Be careful, always careful, so that even your gaze does not become a thorn.
That was what Alan had cautioned him.
‘Father.’
The word was already deeply bruised.
It was so full of bruises that he didn’t know if he was allowed to answer, how he should answer, or what kind of answer he could possibly give to a word that would ache even if he embraced and soothed it. No one had ever taught him.
An inadequate father like him had never known.
“I…”
The voice would not leave his open mouth.
After a long hesitation, Lemain reached out and picked up his teacup. He moistened his throat with a sip of tea, which held pine needles that felt like thorns, then carefully set the cup down, trying not to make a sound.
Was he shocked because it was the first time he had heard his son admit he was wrong? Was he shocked because it was the first time his son had called him “Father”? Or, before any of that, was he even truly shocked at all?
Could there be… some other reason?
For reasons he could not begin to fathom, the fingertips holding the teacup trembled helplessly.
“...I.”
Though he gripped it with all his might, a bit of tea spilled, staining the white tablecloth green.
It was the first time Franz had ever seen him spill tea in front of anyone. It was also the first time he had seen him at a loss for words. Watching this unfamiliar side of Lemain with calm, settled eyes, Franz spoke in a voice just as quiet.
“If my words were out of line, I apologize.”
“No. No, they were not. They were not out of line, but more than I deserve.”
The words slipped out as he searched for a response, dredging up every phrase he knew. The man, who could not possibly know that his answer so closely resembled what Franz had said long ago, replied in such a way. It was neither gratitude nor an apology; in the end, it was an answer that only proved he was, inevitably, just like his son.
“Yes.”
Indeed.
They were alike.
They were alike in how they turned away, alike in how they believed that was the answer, and alike in how they never realized it was the wrong one. Lemain had only ever shown them that path, and Randel and Franz had only ever watched and learned from it. Growing up watching Lemain, they had no choice but to resemble him and each other. Even so, they were alike.
The clever Franz recognized this resemblance all too well.
He saw it now as Lemain faced reality far too late, unable to offer a single word of apology—let alone gratitude—for words that were more than he deserved. He realized they were spitting images of each other in every way.
So, he would excuse himself.
He understood everything without it needing to be said aloud.
He had conveyed everything he wanted to say and fully grasped the apologies, regrets, and resolutions that Lemain could not bring himself to speak. He was about to announce his departure.
“I will not forget.”
But Lemain’s response came first.
They were not words spoken in the heat of the moment, but words chosen with care. Words left behind by a stubborn, ox-like man who had tried his absolute best to pick out the thorns in his own way. They finally reached Franz.
“I will not forget the wrongs I have done, nor the words you spoke to me today. I will think of them every day and reflect on them every time I look at you all.”
He had no way of knowing if those words were the correct answer. But he delivered them.
How could he possibly put everything he felt into words?
He surely knew by now that silent actions were better than grand, sweeping statements, but still…
“I was wrong. I was so very wrong…”
Even so.
Even if that were true.
“I am sorry. For hurting you. I am sorry for not looking at you. I am truly sorry. For bringing you into this world and leaving you all alone.”
He felt he had to say it.
“For leaving you alone until you grew up like this… I am sorry.”
Forgiveness might still be a distant prospect.
And whether a festering, worn-out wound could ever truly heal remained unknown.
But still.
“Franz.”
“……Yes.”
An apology was made.
An apology was received.
* * *
Clap, clap!
Though there was no dust to shake off, Calian clapped his palms together with a proud look on his face. He turned his head, looking as if he had just defeated a demon king all by himself.
“How is it?”
“Pointless.”
A razor-sharp reply came back.
“Can’t you at least say I did a good job?”
“It didn’t look that difficult.”
“You shouldn’t look at the difficulty, but the sincerity. I sent all the attendants away and did this with my own two hands, didn’t I?”
Because windows in Chermil Palace had rarely broken since its construction, they didn’t keep spares on hand.
It was only natural.
After all, who on earth could have anticipated that some lunatic would smash a window enchanted by Sispanian just to ask his older brother, “Are those roses blooming in the garden?”
Therefore, the lack of a spare window—which required crafting a wide, thick, transparent, and beautifully engraved piece of glass, and then enchanting it before it could finally be installed—was absolutely not the fault of the Chermil Palace administrator.
“But since the window disappeared because of me, I took responsibility and blocked it up myself. Like a good, commendable brother.”
And so, Calian had returned to take responsibility.
It was the same logic he’d used when he paid the medical bills and compensation on behalf of Raven, who had left a horseshoe-shaped bruise on the buttocks of a new bath attendant just for brushing him with a scrub without permission.
Well, something like that.
“Does doing it yourself make it that meaningful?”
“Of course. I’m a delicately raised child, too, just like you, Brother Randel.”
Just a short while ago, Calian had been enjoying sweet, lavender-scented sugar candy. He had bought a bit more to bring back, stopped by Banensha to recommend a glittering golden chainmail—and nearly got his engagement broken off for it—before successfully helping customize a set of armor. It was slightly more rugged, but made of excellent material and shaped so as not to hinder Demirea’s swordsmanship in the slightest. After finding a decent restaurant on Astrisha Street, cleanly polishing off a meal for three, and escorting Demirea back to the Duke’s mansion, he had completed all his highly personal errands and returned to the palace with light, airy steps.
Upon his return, he heard that Lemain had visited and spoken with Franz while he was away. He also heard that throughout Lemain’s visit, Randel had remained cooped up on the fifth floor.
‘Brother Randel said he was sick because of the wind?’
‘Yes. Even when we offered to temporarily install another window, he told us to leave it be. He must have caught a cold. After all, his body is likely much weaker than yours or the Crown Prince’s.’
The naive baby elephant of an attendant seemed to believe it.
Calian swallowed the urge to point out that the man who had practically taken root on the fifth floor would live a longer, healthier life than someone who was greener than an unripe pumpkin. Instead, he simply nodded. They say you shouldn’t carelessly shatter the fantasy-filled delusions of a growing child, after all.
He immediately grabbed his long, massive black robe and headed up to the fifth floor. He then generously sacrificed the robe, which was enchanted with basic waterproofing and windproofing magic, to block Randel’s window. In other words, he had spread the pitch-black robe, which looked as if it were spun from a handful of darkness, and roughly patched it over the empty window frame. His hands weren’t delicate enough for a neater job.
Looking at the window now blocked by the sudden black cloth—a thick, dreary fabric that clashed with the room’s curtains, wallpaper, and floor—Randel spoke.
“It is an eyesore.”
“Isn’t it better than getting sick again?”
“I believe getting sick again would be preferable.”
“No, you don’t. You must live a long and healthy life.”
Calian, who had just wished a long and healthy life upon his eldest brother who wasn’t even twenty yet, smiled brightly. Watching him, Randel spoke in a flat, monotone voice.
“You are doing something unnecessary.”
“Does it seem unnecessary to you?”
“You blocked the window that I finally managed to get open.”
“So you do realize it was a window opened with great difficulty.”
“How could I not?”
“That’s a relief. At least you know that much.”
Nodding slightly, Randel stared deep into Calian’s eyes.
“Your attitude toward me has changed.”
“Has it?”
“The edge you used to hold against me seems to have dulled.”
“I suppose my mind has eased now that I have nothing left to hide behind a sharp edge.”
“Does that make you comfortable?”
“You notice the change in my attitude, yet you can’t recognize empty words?”
In truth, he was uncomfortable.
There was no way he could be comfortable coming back to a man who, despite now knowing what had happened to the original Calian, could neither acknowledge it nor fully accept the current Calian.
Had he not already told Randel?
That, in truth, he would not be fine.
“I’m not comfortable; I feel wronged. I suppose that’s why I’ve dulled.”
“What makes you feel wronged?”
“I said it was fine if I didn’t get an apology, and I said it was fine if you wanted to treat a perfectly living, breathing person as if they didn’t exist. But here you are, trying to hide again behind the excuse of a broken window.”
Randel fell silent.
Glancing at the empty table where no tea was served, Calian spoke.
“I blocked the window you broke with my own hands, so don’t use it as an excuse to be sick. The broken window isn’t your fault. I came up because I felt I needed to tell you that one more time.”
“Your concern for the second prince is quite deep.”
“I am deeply concerned for you as well, Brother Randel. Though you don’t seem to realize it.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Yes.”
Having said his piece, Calian reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small red paper bag and placed it on the table.
“What is this?”
“Sugar candy. I found some with a rose scent, so I bought it for you, Brother Randel. You can consider it a new birthday present.”
“I do not care for sweets.”
“You shouldn’t be picky. I hate grapefruit, too.”
Having gifted the sweet treat in a voice like chewing sand, Calian stood up. Before Randel could even reject the new birthday present, Calian bowed politely and walked out.
Staring at the reddish paper bag for a moment, Randel slowly reached out. He picked up a rose-scented sugar candy—delivered in place of a birthday gift he couldn’t use—and put it in his mouth. Then, he closed his eyes for a moment.
It was sweet.
There was no scent of roses.
Instead, it tasted of something else.
It tasted of rich strawberry.
Because the bag of strawberry-flavored sugar candy he had bought for “our Hina” was also red, the careless Calian had once again gifted Randel the strawberry flavor by mistake.
“……Den.”
“Yes, Prince. Did you call?”
“Tea.”
“Yes. I will bring it shortly.”
The lingering strawberry taste on his lips, that sweetness, made Randel’s brow furrow.
He frowned.
Listening quietly to the attendant’s footsteps as he went to fetch tea to wash away the strawberry taste, Randel reached out again. He popped another sweet candy into his mouth and frowned once more.
Even tasting it again, it was definitely strawberry.
It was strawberry.
“……And he called it a rose.”
The boy who had made a mistake the Calian of Randel’s memories would never make had then cheerfully skipped away.
He frowned, thinking he should just tear down that ugly black cloth the boy—who couldn’t even tell strawberry from rose—had so shabbily patched over his window.
* * *
He’s the one who causes the trouble, yet I’m the one who’s always busy. Why is that?
Pondering this, Calian spoke with a beaming smile.
“Brother.”
“What.”
If you’re planning to cause another incident, please let me know in advance. I’m going to go gray at this rate.
He wanted to say those words but couldn’t bring himself to, so he just smiled again. Brushing the thought aside, he brought up something else.
“I’m thinking of going to see Sispanian.”
“Only now?”
“Yes.”
The news that the Sea Dragon Arnayzel possessed a fragment of the Axis of Time. He had to deliver this message to Sispanian. Perhaps it was the very first thing he should have done upon arriving here, but other matters had pushed it aside until now.
“Let’s go together.”
“Alright.”
Knowing Franz would have tagged along anyway even if not asked, Calian simply set out with him.
They passed the artificial lake with the rose garden visible in the distance, left Chermil Palace, and crossed the fountain garden. During the walk—long if one thought it long, short if one thought it short—neither of them spoke. There was nothing much to say.
“I told His Majesty… that he was wrong all this time.”
But after a long silence, Franz spoke.
Without stopping, his gaze fixed on the fountain splashing with a pleasant sound, Calian replied.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
It was obvious how Lemain would have reacted. Calian already knew how Lemain would have answered. So, without asking further, he simply told him he did well. It would be difficult to explain what had transpired between the two of them anyway.
“You did well.”
Receiving an apology. Whether it was related to Calian himself. After a single question from Calian, Franz had gone so far as to break a window to meet Randel and had even confronted Lemain in the process. Calian, who had ultimately provided the catalyst, said nothing more than to acknowledge his effort.
“If he found out…”
Just as they were passing the fountain garden, Franz spoke up.
“I thought he would be able to see. I thought he had to see. But he didn’t.”
“Are you talking about Brother Randel?”
“Yes.”
“……Not everyone is like you, Brother. Just because they know the truth doesn’t mean they can make a new place for me, put me there, and look at me properly like you did. There are people like my Master, who worried only about me and accommodated me in everything; people like Arianne, who couldn’t fully trust me; and people like Demirea, who worried more about Yan than me after learning the truth. There’s also Duke Siegfried, who couldn’t care less either way. And sometimes, there are people who choose to turn away again. Everyone is bound to react in their own way.”
Franz walked on in silence.
“Was it because that weighed on your mind that you took your anger out on His Majesty?”
“……Probably.”
He had resented Lemain so much for only teaching them how to turn away. In the end, everything that happened was because Lemain had turned away. He had vented his disappointment in Randel—who had turned away even after learning the truth—onto Lemain.
“You did well in that, too.”
Knowing that Lemain’s apology wouldn’t bring Franz complete peace of mind, Calian answered him that way.
“Do you feel a bit better now?”
“Yes and no.”
“Why is the reaction of someone who went out of his way to scold His Majesty and get an apology so lukewarm? You should feel relieved.”
“I feel like I did something unnecessary. To my younger brother.”
Hearing Franz’s words, Calian chuckled.
It meant Franz was also worried that he had stirred up unnecessary trouble, tearing open a wound that was barely starting to heal.
Soon, Calian rummaged through his clothes and pulled something out.
One was for Randel, and the other was for Hina.
“Demirea apparently bought this candy for Ririe. It’s delicious. When I said my heart felt a bit bitter, Demirea bought this for me to sweeten my mouth. I broke into Evan’s mansion to save you, Brother, and met Ririe there. I almost died of shock seeing her, but I survived. Demirea took in Ririe, who was found like that, and bought her a candy. And now, the same thing has come to me.”
Showing the sugar candy—which he still believed to be strawberry-flavored, but was actually rose-scented—Calian continued.
“That’s just how life is. Maybe because you’re going through puberty, you never learn what you’re supposed to and always pick up strange things, causing trouble left and right, giving me headaches, and making my stomach churn. But I know you did what you did in your own way, thinking of me. So you don’t have to feel sorry about things like that. We just keep living like this, amidst things that don’t go as planned.”
Calian then handed the candy to Franz.
It was his way of telling his brother, who seemed to have a bitter taste in his mouth just like him, to eat something sweet.
Franz took the sugar candy.
Calian, who pulled out another identical candy and popped it into his own mouth first, suddenly froze. Then, stretching his arm out like lightning, he snatched back the candy that was just about to enter Franz’s mouth.
Having lost his candy to his younger brother’s hand, which had flown in at an invisible speed, Franz stared at Calian. With a flustered face, Calian sniffed the candy and said:
“Don’t eat it. This one smells like roses.”
Strawberry. Where did my strawberry flavor go?
Turning his head slightly to look back at Chermil Palace, Calian let out a hollow laugh. He couldn’t help but laugh, having given Randel the strawberry candy and almost giving Franz the rose.
Roughly guessing what had happened from his behavior, Franz let out a short sigh. He reached out, took one of the rose-scented candies from the paper bag in Calian’s hand, and popped it into his mouth.
It was sweet.
It tasted of roses.
“I told you it’s scented. Why are you eating that?”
“You said that’s just how life is.”
Since everyone lives like that, amidst the unexpected. Isn’t life about occasionally tasting roses when you least expect it?
Replying nonchalantly, Franz walked on.
Watching him for a moment, Calian chuckled and followed.
“Then should I give you another one?”
“No.”
“But you said that’s just how life is.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Still, you’re quite commendable. Learning how not to avoid things.”
“And my younger brother still hasn’t learned to hold his tongue.”
“But Brother, are you going to cause even bigger trouble when you’re older? If you are, please tell me in advance. I’ll prepare myself mentally.”
“Just keep running your mouth.”
A wind slightly warmer than yesterday’s blew, the sound of water echoed, the sky was dark, and the weather was pleasant. Passing through it all, they walked for a long while. Thus, they arrived at the place where the Old Heisia Palace once stood.
The same vast, hollow space.
Entering the place filled with the traces of the Ancient Dragon, Calian looked around for a moment. Then, he called out to Sispanian.
The black butterfly did not come.