Chapter 367: Nest (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 367: Nest (1)
Two voices echoed inside the spacious cavern.
“Pawn to d3.”
“Knight to c5.”
A soft, clear voice was followed immediately by a low one that seemed to have been waiting.
“Knight to e5. Captured a pawn.”
“Yes, I know. Knight to e7.”
“Illegal move.”
“Can’t you let it slide just this once? Pawn to f6… Brother.”
They were playing chess.
To be precise, they were waiting for Sispanian. In this vast cavern, Calian couldn’t exactly spar with Franz, who had just had glass shards removed from his arm the day before. Nor could he teach magic to the clumsy prince in a place where every wall was an ancient ruin. Besides, they weren’t the type to engage in idle small talk.
Playing a game was better than just standing around.
“Then, I will…”
And so, the chess game began.
After several moves, Calian contemplated his next step before speaking.
“Queen to d1. Captured your rook.”
“You’ll regret that.”
One corner of Franz’s mouth curled up.
“…Ah.”
Calian, carefully visualizing the chessboard in his mind once more, looked troubled. Then, he gave Franz a bright, beautiful smile.
“I made a small mistake since we’re playing without a board. Can’t you let me take it back?”
“No.”
“You’ve already won twice. Just one move.”
“No.”
It didn’t work.
Calian knew his peerless smile was useless on Franz, but it really didn’t work. He wondered if blue blood would spill if he pricked Franz at times like this.
No wonder he so strongly resembled a pea.
“Rook to d1. Captured your queen. Check.”
Franz ruthlessly took Calian’s queen.
“…My, how heartless my older brother is.”
“Stop whining. Your move.”
Franz’s words were clear: I have no intention of letting you take it back, so stop grumbling and make your next move. Having lost his queen, Calian’s fine brow furrowed as he mentally scanned the board. Realizing there was no way to save his king, he spoke.
“I resign.”
It wasn’t that Calian was bad at chess.
In fact, he was quite good. He often won against Chase and had never lost to Alan. Of course, he knew his win rate against Alan was partly because the master had no desire to beat his student and would occasionally feign a loss or allow a take-back. Still, a win was a win.
The reason Calian kept losing to Franz wasn’t his lack of skill, but simply the fact that his opponent was Franz.
“You said you didn’t enjoy chess, Brother. I was completely deceived.”
“It’s true. I’ve never played against anyone besides my tutor.”
“Right. You’re so smart you probably never lose after just learning the basics.”
Franz had claimed he didn’t particularly enjoy chess and had only ever played a few games with a tutor and read some books. Calian had thought he’d be an easy opponent, but he was dead wrong. They had played three games, and Calian had lost them all.
Realizing once again that challenging this pea to chess had been a mistake, Calian stopped grumbling and pulled out his pocket watch. After checking the time, he asked, “Sispanian is taking a while. One more round, or should we head back?”
“Go.”
“Alright.”
She might not come after all, he thought.
It wasn't as if she had promised to appear if he called for her in the cavern. If she had her own reasons, she might not show up. With Serenti gone, she was likely busy.
That was what he told himself.
“Brother.”
“What.”
“Why is it that you let me win all our bets, but you refuse to lose in games or sparring?”
“Why?”
“It just seems odd. I can’t tell if you have any ambition in life or not.”
“Why?”
“You act as if you have nothing more to wish for in the world as long as you have two cats. When I asked you to grant my wish for technically winning the hunt by cutting the Danu’s root, you meekly agreed. Yet, you absolutely refuse to lose at something like this. What am I supposed to think? I have no idea what’s going on inside your head.”
To clarify: the first “Why” meant “Why are you calling me?”, the second meant “Why are you curious about that?”, and the third meant “Why do you think that way?” At least, that was how Calian understood it.
Franz looked at Calian, who had perfectly interpreted his three flat, monotonous responses, and let out a short chuckle. Then, he replied, “Just because.”
“…I see.”
With nothing left to say, Calian simply nodded.
“Anyway, I’ll try coming alone tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“Don’t get all gloomy, thinking she didn’t show up because you were here.”
“…My younger brother seems to have found great amusement in calling me for the most ridiculous things. It’s like you see me not as a person, but as a head of lettuce.”
“Still, isn’t it better for me to see you as a head of lettuce than for you to see me as a stray beast?”
A beast or a head of lettuce. It was hard to say which was worse.
Franz, who had ended up on the losing end of the exchange after trying to retort, shut his mouth tight. After all, it was true that he viewed Calian as a beast. Seeing this, Calian smiled brightly.
“What I mean is, it’s probably not because of you that Sispanian isn’t coming, so don’t worry about it.”
“I wouldn’t care even if it were.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve thrown away your habit of self-blame. You’re growing up so well day by day. I feel truly proud every time I look at you, Brother.”
Sure, bark all you want.
At least you’re not biting.
Having half-resigned himself to it—and since “growing up well” wasn’t exactly an insult—Franz simply let out a low sigh and walked out of the cavern. Calian chuckled softly and glanced around the cavern one last time, hoping Sispanian might appear after Franz left. She did not.
In the end, he trudged back to Chermil Palace.
“Get some rest, then.”
“Fine.”
“Don’t dream of cursing His Majesty.”
“…Fine.”
“And don’t dream of fighting with Brother Randel, either.”
“You. Seriously.”
“This beast of a younger brother will stop barking and take his leave now.”
Calian offered a polite bow, leaving Franz at the top of the stairs before slipping into his room, his face full of mischief.
Up until that point, Calian had truly been more curious about why Franz—who had no greed or desire to gain from winning bets—refused to lose in games. He had been more worried about Franz stressing over Sispanian’s absence than the absence itself. He wasn't anxious about what might happen next; he was concerned that the foolish pea, who still cared for Randel and Lemain, might try to meet the old Calian even in his dreams. He had been barking more enthusiastically than usual to prevent Franz from catching Renieri’s scent again—all because Franz had not only recalled the rose but had actually put it in his mouth.
Up until then, that was how it was.
“I hear Duke and Duchess Siegfried and Siona Hill arrived in the capital yesterday evening, Your Highness.”
“…I see.”
But Sispanian did not appear, even when Calian went looking for her alone.
A week later, when news arrived that Suleiman and Serie had reached the Siegfried mansion, the Ancient Dragon was still nowhere to be seen.
Sispanian was said to be gathering the fragments of the Axis of Time. She had personally intervened to stop the fight between Alan and Adelia. There was no way she wouldn’t have noticed the fragment that appeared in the middle of the ocean, nor would she have approved of Arnayzel using it as he pleased. The fact that she had simply left Arnayzel to his games was strange in itself.
Only then did Calian realize it.
“Check my schedule, Yan. See if I can visit the Duke’s mansion today.”
“Are you planning to go yourself, Your Highness?”
“Yes.”
“Understood.”
Sensing that something was wrong, Calian lowered his eyes.
*
Was it because of the color green?
“Meow! Meow!”
“Meeeoow…”
The cats followed Hina well enough. However, Lucy and Anne, who regarded all two-legged creatures—except for Franz and Hina—as mere snack dispensers, were now purring contentedly under a small palm.
The owner of that hand was Ririe.
Even though Franz had invited her to see the cats, Ririe had not visited. He wanted to ask Demirea why, but she always left immediately after meeting Calian, leaving him no chance. He couldn’t exactly ask Calian to do it for him, either.
But that morning, Calian, after his usual massive breakfast, had mentioned a favor he needed to ask of Suleiman and Serie, telling Franz to train with Kyrie instead.
Franz was not so dense as to miss what Calian was planning. So, he had told Calian to handle his own business while he spoke to Serie himself. In other words, he had tagged along, even bringing the cats to finally show Ririe.
“Meow, mmeow.”
“Meow. Meeow.”
He had been told it wasn’t a good idea to bring them outside the palace, but it was just for a short while. After doing his best to explain the outing to the two cats, they had set off together.
The cats, showing no discomfort in the unfamiliar place, followed Ririe around, acting incredibly cute. This left Franz deep in thought.
Is it because of the color green? Is that why they like Hina?
“It’s been a while, Second Prince.”
“…Crown Prince.”
“Did it change?”
“It changed.”
“Right. It’s been a while, Crown Prince of Kairis.”
As he was watching Ririe, someone approached and greeted him. It wasn’t Serie, whom he had been waiting for, but the Sword Master, Siona.
Jingle.
A familiar ringing sound echoed from the tip of Siona’s sword.
He found himself listening intently to the bell when Siona spoke again.
“You’ve grown taller. Humans grow so fast.”
“Just because.”
Siona chuckled and nodded. She turned toward Ririe, who was smiling happily, surrounded by the cats, and thought it might be better to postpone their training. But then.
“I think you knew what my mother’s family did to you.”
Franz’s low voice, spoken as he stared blankly at Ririe’s fingertips, stopped Siona in her tracks.
Siona stood frozen, her gaze falling to her own feet, to the bell she had kept her entire life, to the hilt of the sword she had failed to draw, and to the hand that could no longer hold it. After a long silence, she spoke in a casual tone.
“Even if I knew, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“I wanted to say… thank you for not pointing your sword at us. At Ririe.”
Franz looked straight at Siona.
“…And at me.”
A brief pause, as if taking a breath, followed his words.
Siona’s ears twitched slightly, the silver piercing at their tip glinting in the sunlight.
Lowering her gaze once more to her hand, her hilt, and her bell, she spoke.
“No need for thanks.”
Then, step by step, she walked toward Ririe.
*
A rumor began to circulate.
After Prince Franz obtained the position of Crown Prince, Prince Calian began making moves. He meets with the young duchess of Siegfried almost every day and frequents the duke’s mansion.
Calian was just peacefully spending time with his fiancée—clashing swords affectionately, exchanging raw killing intent, getting inspected for hidden items, eating sugar cookies, and buying her meat. Yet, before he knew it, he had been painted as the third prince desperately trying to reclaim his position before his brother left for Camillon.
He had been so careful to avoid sparking strange rumors. He had stayed away from Wilhelm Pavilion since returning to Kairis, avoided meeting not only Euria, the president of the Mage Association, but even Melfir of the Polun Trading Company, and had limited his private meetings with Alan. All his efforts had gone to waste. Calian, who had even been told by Relic that he looked like he had too much free time, let out a hollow laugh.
“Seriously, how many times do I have to say that my brother and I are on good terms for people to get it?”
Before leaving Kairis, he had pinned a cute black cat brooch on Franz’s chest. After returning from Secritia, he had bent Gray in half for failing to greet his brother. They had even appeared together at official venues multiple times.
He had worked so hard to show everyone they were on exceptionally good terms and that he had no complaints about Franz becoming Crown Prince. Yet, suspicious glances were creeping back.
“It must be Marquis Brissen. Again.”
Ultimately, the only person who benefited from driving a wedge between them was Gray Brissen. Whether his goal was to isolate Franz or to paint Calian as a schemer, it would greatly benefit Randel, whom Gray was trying to court.
“I heard there are talks of a betrothal between Prince Randel and the daughter of Margrave Libret, a close friend of Marquis Brissen. Have you heard as well?”
“No. His Majesty is still only contemplating it, and Randel would never agree to a betrothal in this situation. Are such rumors really circulating?”
Living in Schrintz, a resort town where nobles gathered much like on Astrisha Street, it seemed even Suleiman, who had no interest in palace affairs, had caught wind of the gossip.
“Besides, even if a betrothal were to happen, His Majesty and my brother aren’t the types to choose a family connected to Brissen.”
“Yes. But the rumors say the betrothal is practically a done deal, which I also found strange. I wondered if His Majesty was unaware.”
Recalling what Lemain had recently gone through, Calian shook his head. “His Majesty has ears. He wouldn’t be unaware. However, he hasn’t been able to meet with Randel, so his response is likely delayed. In any case, His Majesty would never make such a decision without my brother’s input. I will look into the matter myself.”
Nodding, Suleiman set down his glass of red wine.
“Furthermore, from what I hear, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has also taken a formidable fiancée,” Calian said, watching him quietly. “I didn’t think you kept up with the affairs of the royal family, Duke. Have you become curious?”
“Now that the young duchess is betrothed to you, my ears naturally opened.”
“…Is that so?”
Tap.
Calian lightly tapped the handle of his teacup, watching the ripples in the pale green tea. Then, he raised his red eyes and stared deeply at Suleiman.
“As I am still in a position where I rely on your shadow, I cannot stop your eyes and ears from turning toward the palace. But if, by some chance…”
“The young duchess has already told me not to meddle in the princes’ affairs, so you needn’t repeat it. I am merely relaying news I’ve heard. You don’t need to think about breaking off the engagement. I would hate to lose the amusement of watching her move as she pleases.”
Calian had been about to warn him, lest the Siegfrieds’ immense influence—their eyes and ears—translate into direct action from their even larger hands. Lest Suleiman, misunderstanding Demirea’s intentions, make a hasty move toward Randel or Franz.
Suleiman, who cut off Calian’s unspoken threat, offered a gentle smile. He was looking at a prince who acted in complete opposition to his old friend, who had thought only of riding on the backs of elephants.
“I believe I’ve said this before, but I always seem to show you this side of myself, Duke. If my words offended you, I apologize.”
“We both simply have too much to carry. Why would I be offended? It is fine.”
Calian had been the one to first refuse help, just as he was the first to question Suleiman’s motives. Wasn’t that an inevitable consequence of having as much to protect as they had mutual goodwill? Suleiman lightly brushed off Calian’s warning and apology before looking out the reception room window.
“By the way, you said you came to see Serie. Why did you visit me first?”
Calian had postponed asking Serie to help teach Franz swordsmanship and had put off asking Siona to meet Kyrie and Hina, only to seek out the uninterested Suleiman first.
He tapped his teacup once more.
“The nest,” he said. “I’m talking about Sispanian’s nest, Duke Siegfried.”
“Yes. Please speak.”
“It seems I must go there. I feel an inexplicable anxiety.”
It was a place that was always tightly closed, except during the Roselita. No one of Kairis blood had ever visited twice. It wasn’t that they hadn’t tried; they were simply never granted entry.
Hearing this from Calian, who could not possibly be unaware of that fact and was not one to say such things without reason, Suleiman let out a low groan.