Chapter 373: There is One More (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 373: There is One More (2)
I already knew that things in this world rarely go as planned.
But that didn’t mean it was pleasant when absolutely everything went off the rails.
After saving one troublesome older brother—a type I had never encountered before—I placed another, completely different, and truly wonderful older brother on the throne. Very few things went according to plan along the way, but somehow, I had managed to pull it off.
Now that those matters were settled, I planned to protect the heart of my other stiff-necked brother and, while I was at it, deal with Zeon, who kept getting in my way. In doing so, both the country that used to be mine and the country that had become mine would be protected.
Once I made the world a good place for our Hina to live, I wanted to watch her grow up happy while I spent my remaining years in peace, aging comfortably until I eventually met Serenti again.
I thought giving Serenti a light, affectionate beating with a club would make for a truly satisfying and rewarding second life. But…
"One angsty, high-maintenance older brother meddling with my plans was more than enough."
"Now that you're full, you’re back to yapping."
To begin with, it didn't even seem like this was my second life. On top of that, Calian was now certain that someone else had intruded upon his hopeful plans for the future.
He was, of course, referring to the Evil God.
If asked on what grounds he suspected it was the Evil God, he could answer with confidence.
In the past, when he lived as Bern, he had tried to tell Franz his conclusion that the Evil God seemed to have initiated the attack one step ahead of Serenti. But his voice wouldn't come out. And Franz had experienced the exact same thing.
Surely, that was proof enough of an accurate deduction, without even needing to hear it from Serenti or Sispanian.
"Anyway, it's truly impressive. Whether it was just the Evil God blocking our mouths, or Serenti and the Evil God doing it together. To keep us so tightly sealed, even checking while they're fast asleep to make sure information they don't want revealed doesn't slip out."
"Is that really something to call impressive?"
"Yes. When I'm fast asleep and someone touches me, my sword is out before I even have time to check who it is."
"…I'll keep that in mind."
"Thank you."
"Oh, of course, I haven't done that in this life," Calian added with a playful grin. He looked as if he were simply satisfied with having secured a minimum of undisturbed privacy, completely forgetting the serious topic they had been discussing.
Franz stared at him before speaking again.
"You're laughing. Again."
"It's too scary when we only talk about serious things."
Franz stared at Calian, dumbfounded.
He clearly remembered the killing intent and pressure that made his heart sink even now. Calian had directed an aura at Serenti that made one feel it would be better to strangle oneself than endure it. On top of that, he had looked ready to draw his sword and charge at any second. Hearing him call that scary left Franz utterly speechless.
"Anyway, I'll have to start plotting how to drag you back down from the position of Crown Prince."
But taking it a step further, Calian cast Silent magic and suddenly blurted this out. He had changed his mind after confidently declaring earlier that he wouldn't dethrone Franz and would just ascend the throne himself.
"Why the sudden change?"
"What do you mean, why?"
"Didn't you say I didn't have to step down?"
Calian, who had looked more satisfied than anyone after a good, filling meal, now put on an expression of deep disappointment.
"You don't want to? Don't tell me you're actually satisfied with that position now, brother? You said you had absolutely no interest in the throne, so I placed you there without a single doubt. Have you changed your mind?"
And then he started barking.
He had already been running his mouth, but he didn’t stop.
"I even got a huge, ugly scar on my flawless, pale back—which doesn't suit me at all—just to make sure you wouldn't wither away. I pampered you, watered you like a delicate flower, fed you, even gave you a cat, and raised you to be this fresh and healthy. I never expected you to change your mind now and refuse to step down as Crown Prince. Oh, dear brother, you are truly too much."
…Ah.
Should I just start barking too?
Whether Calian knew that his older brother was contemplating a profound change of species, tossing aside the convictions he had held for over seventeen years…
"Well, if you like that seat so much, I suppose there's nothing I can do. As your younger brother, I can't very well snatch away a position you want. I'll stop raising you, head down south, throw myself on Demirea’s mercy, and live a life of leisure. I'll take care of our Hina, Yan, and Kyrie, support my elderly master, and raise Raven—who is much nicer and gentler than you—into a fine, mature horse. I’ll live a quiet and peaceful life."
In any case, Calian kept barking.
He just ran his mouth without even asking for Demirea's or Raven's opinions.
The problem was, as was well known, Calian was incapable of lying. Which meant he was currently barking with absolute, heartfelt sincerity.
"…Then my deeply thoughtful younger brother will have to pay for the meal. I only offered to buy dinner for a human."
"No, wait. I will speak in human tongue now."
This was an expensive place.
Sir Ronansite had mentioned that even Suleiman only came here occasionally, alone with Serie, leaving Demirea and Yan behind. That was exactly why Calian had eagerly sought it out.
Without even needing to calculate the number of empty plates cleared away, the new ones brought in, and the sheer amount of cod and meat piled upon them, Calian answered instantly with a bright smile. And finally, he began to speak like a person.
"I was planning to take my time, build up our internal strength, and investigate leisurely rather than overexerting myself to catch Zeon, risking death again and getting scolded by Hina and Yan. But if Serenti wakes up within the year, we won't have that kind of time. There's no guarantee the one who fell asleep with him won't wake up at the same time. So, I need to search more diligently, capture them myself, and uncover the truth."
"And?"
"But if I get busy and I’m not in the royal palace, and you are left alone as the Crown Prince, brother…"
"I'll die."
"Yes. You know these things well now."
Calian beamed, as if praising a child who had gotten the correct answer, and continued.
"I believe Kairis is a country where the ownership of the Crown Prince's position has rarely changed peacefully. Either they successfully take the throne after becoming Crown Prince, or the position passes to another prince because the current one dies or is sent to the tower. It's hard to find a time in history when the master of Camillon changed smoothly. Am I wrong?"
"You're right."
"So, if nothing happens to you, everyone will assume the throne is guaranteed for you."
"Probably."
"But in truth, if you ascend the throne, quite a few nobles will worry about how you'll wield the Valkan with your temperament. Many will also fear that you might retaliate against those who helped me by remaining silent about Silike's affairs. As long as I stay in the palace and maintain a good relationship with you, no noble will dare show their anxiety. But if I keep leaving my post… will they still remain quiet? I doubt it."
Calian glanced at Franz as he casually brought up Silike, continuing in a light tone as if it were nothing.
Enduring a brief mention of something he wished to avoid thinking about would hurt less than forgetting reality only to be stabbed in the back later.
"Take Marquis Brissen, for instance. He’s keeping his mouth shut right now because he's wary of me, but once you actually move into Camillon, the situation changes. The Marquis knows all too well that it's only a matter of time before Lenisita leaves are laid out for him. Unlike the other nobles, Marquis Brissen knows exactly what you think of the Brissen family. So, he will be desperate to send you far away—whether to the tower or the execution square—by exposing all the things Brissen has built up that even I didn't know about. Even if he has to sacrifice his own flesh by selling out Brissen, it's better than dying."
Franz listened to Calian without any change in expression. However, Calian, who now knew that this was not Franz's truly unbothered face, let out an invisible sigh and continued.
"No matter how smart you are, brother, you cannot win that kind of fight yet. Without me, even my master won't be able to protect you from that. Though, I suppose I could manage to help you escape to the Secritia royal villa."
"I don't care."
"Ah. Did you like the sea of Secritia that much? I mean, it is a beautiful place, so I understand, but…"
"Not that."
"Then what is it that you don't care about?"
"I'm going to follow you."
"Who?"
"You."
"…Who is?"
"Me."
And just like that, Franz said something that would have made his fellow Valkan Vice-Commander, currently fast asleep back at the restaurant, bolt upright.
"Then there's no need to worry, is there?"
He meant that if Calian wasn't there, Franz wouldn't be there either, so it would be fine.
If so, Franz's official installation as Crown Prince would be delayed. At that point, rather than Gray risking Lemain's displeasure by actively trying to drag Franz down, it would be better for him to focus on solidifying Randel's position and wait for an opportunity to assassinate Franz.
As for assassins, well, his incredibly strong younger brother would sweep them all away anyway, so there was no need to worry.
"And why me again?" Calian asked, having nearly jumped up himself on behalf of his sleeping subordinate—who had just missed the chance to be shocked by a colleague abandoning his post—while forcing a look of composure.
Franz, who couldn't care less, stared at Calian for a moment. Then, he spoke quietly.
"Because it's fun."
A statement with no justification, no plan, and absolutely no sense of responsibility.
Words that should never escape the mouth of a nation's Crown Prince.
Yet, it was an answer perfectly fitting for someone his age.
"…Fun?"
"More than the palace."
"Did you come here with me because you thought it would be fun too?"
"Why else?"
"And you're going to keep following me around even though it's obviously dangerous?"
"Yes."
"Because it's fun?"
"Yes."
Just as expected.
Calian, who was excellent at detecting lies, did not object any further.
He couldn't object.
"Fine."
He gave only a short assent, carrying the weight of a long, deep sigh.
*
The journey back to the royal palace was not boring either.
For they spent the return trip doing something that made even Arsen shake his head in disbelief—the very same Arsen who, upon hearing whom Calian's killing intent and peer had been directed at, had praised him, saying, "As expected, our Prince is extraordinary. I vaguely recall him warmly thawing frozen shrimp, and he is exactly that remarkable." He had then evaluated Franz by saying, "And to think he blocked that… our Vice-Commander, who is somehow still the Crown Prince today, is certainly not normal either."
"King to f7."
"Pawn to e8. I've captured your queen, and my pawn promotes to a queen. Check."
Franz, visualizing the chessboard and Calian's white queens—which had somehow become two—calculated the future moves and said:
"I lost."
Hearing those words, Calian simply assumed he had won.
For Calian, it would take another move or two to see the outcome, but the brilliant Franz had already verified it. He knew well that continuing the game from this point had never changed the result. Chess was not a physical duel, after all.
"Yes."
In any case, this was what made them extraordinary.
To put it nicely, it was extraordinary; to Arsen, who possessed a perfectly normal mindset, it was sheer madness that he could not comprehend.
Of course, he didn't mean that the obnoxious behavior of these highly intelligent people—who visualized chessboards in their heads, calculated countless moves ahead, and acted as if it were nothing surprising—was what was extraordinary. He had already felt that deeply when they first set out for Siegfried. What Arsen now considered extraordinary was a different matter entirely.
"Are you two completely unbothered?"
"About what?"
"I clearly heard that you are being played like chess pieces by supreme beings. Yet, the moment you get even slightly bored on the way back, you play chess. What am I supposed to make of that?"
"It's fun. I still lose more often, but I like that the times I win, like just now, are increasing."
Arsen's head shook side to side once more.
Seriously.
Were they just completely carefree, or had they simply grown numb after being pushed around so much?
In any case, they passed the time like that.
Exchanging jokes with Arsen, who watched them while slowly visualizing the chessboard the two royals were playing on, watering the horses, and moving on again.
Floating a magic flame instead of a campfire, playing games with Arsen using chess pieces he had roughly fashioned out of clear and opaque ice. Then, having dinner while chatting about nothing in particular, talking a bit more, and falling asleep. Just like that.
They returned to the royal palace, concluding their outing to Siegfried, which had taken over ten days despite being considered short.
"Someone is in my room?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
It was still a while before nightfall.
Arsen, whose workload had undoubtedly increased, headed straight for Wilhelm Hall.
Franz, after showing his face to Lemain, went to Chermil Palace. Whether he intended to rest or wash up and change before heading back to Wilhelm Hall, he lightly mounted Estina and leisurely rode toward his own palace.
And Calian…
– Even if I find out how Arnayzel used this, I wonder if I will even be able to tell you, Your Highness.
– If you are blocked from telling me, I can just look into it myself somehow. For now, please check it, Master.
– Yes. I shall do so.
He had asked Alan to look into the fragment of the Axis of Time he had received from Sispanian—specifically, how Arnayzel had used it. He had tried to explain in detail what he had discovered in the hollow, but failed as expected, so he only shared roughly what he had told Arsen. After that, he comforted Alan, who was fuming on his behalf, briefly met with Eila to check on her, and then arrived at Chermil Palace.
"You have a guest."
Merlin, who had come out to greet him, said.
Because Calian had told Yan not to stay alone in the palace while he was away, especially since his birthday had just passed, and to go spend time with his family, Yan was still at the Duke Siegfried's mansion. He would likely return soon, having surely heard by now that Calian was back.
In any case, Merlin, who welcomed Calian in Yan's stead, wore a look of rare bewilderment on her face.
"Who is the guest?"
"Prince Randel has arrived."
After speaking as if she herself found it hard to believe but it was indeed the truth, Merlin walked up to the third floor with Calian and stared at the large, ornate door. It was unclear whether his attendant, Den, had not come along or was inside with him, but there was no one else outside the door.
Calian nodded gratefully to Merlin and said with a pleasant smile, "Merlin, could you prepare some tea?"
"Yes, of course. Prince Randel seems to drink black tea often. Shall I prepare mint tea and black tea?"
Calian's smile deepened.
"No. I'm tired. Bring us two cups of lemon tea with honey. Put lots of honey in both. A whole, whole lot of honey. Make it really sweet."
"Yes. Understood."
Merlin merely smiled at the mischievous order without questioning it, then paused her hand as she reached for the doorknob. She turned to Calian and bowed slightly.
"Excuse me for a moment."
Soon, Merlin's hands reached for Calian's tie. While the dust and wrinkles from a long journey could be removed with magic, a crooked tie would not straighten itself.
A slightly crooked wine-colored tie, a black opal sparkling red at the tips of his black shirt collar. A brooch with a rose-shaped black pendant and chain pinned to his wine-colored jacket, which was slightly darker than his tie. As Merlin neatly adjusted his well-fitted clothes and accessories, Calian said, "You don't have to be so meticulous. My brothers aren't the type to nitpick over things like this."
"Just in case. I would hate for anyone to say you look untidy, Your Highness."
"Alright. Thank you."
"It is my pleasure. But Your Highness, you really have changed a lot. Back when you cut your bangs, you absolutely hated dressing up like this. Now, you're dressed so well that one would hardly believe you just returned from a journey."
"Indeed. Somehow I've ended up like this. Still, I hate ruffles. I'll probably always hate them."
"Yes. I got to dress you in them once for the Queen's memorial ceremony, so I have no regrets."
Chuckling, Merlin neatly refastened the buttons of his vest and jacket, which she had undone to adjust his tie, and spoke in a low voice.
"Sir Bern seems to be waiting for you eagerly. Why don't you visit the training room for a bit after you finish speaking with Prince Randel?"
"Alright, I'll do that."
"Yes. Please go in now."
"Thanks."
Merlin responded to his repeated thanks with a bow and opened the door. Once Calian stepped inside, she closed the door and went to prepare the tea.
The all-too-familiar black room.
Stepping inside, Calian bowed, his face unable to hide his awkwardness.
"I greet you, Brother Randel."
Randel, who sat alone in the black room—having apparently not brought Den along at all—nodded. He gestured toward the chair opposite him. Having somehow received permission to sit in his own room, Calian sat down across from Randel with a faint smile.
"You didn't come when I invited you, yet here you are so suddenly. And without a cat, too."
"Things turned out that way."
Even though he surely understood that Calian was referring to his entering an empty room without permission, Randel merely gave a brief reply. It was a response similar to Franz's "somehow."
In any case, seeing how they both completely disregarded other people's privacy and refused to give proper answers, the two of them were indeed cut from the same cloth.
Instead of asking Randel why he had come or offering words of welcome, Calian quietly held his tongue. He said nothing more until Merlin—or rather, someone else—returned.
After an incredibly awkward silence had stretched on for some time, Yan, who had somehow already returned to the palace, brought in the tea instead of Merlin. Giving Calian a brief nod of greeting, Yan set down the two cups of tea and quietly exited.
A thick, heavy scent of honey wafted over to where they sat. Sensing it, Randel turned his gaze to Calian.
"Your teaching is quite thorough."
"You should say my learning is thorough."
After all, it was Randel who had persistently offered him the grapefruit he hated. Even if he was teaching him a lesson in empathy, he was ultimately just returning what he had observed and learned from Randel.
"Or perhaps I should say your retaliation is precise."
"My repayment is indeed precise."
"You seem to thoroughly dislike losing."
"I am not a person very accustomed to losing."
"You have a rather exhausting personality."
"I feel the exact same way about you."
Refusing to back down by even a single word, just as Randel had noted, Calian took a sip of the honey-laden lemon tea. He savored the sweetness, so sharp it almost stung his throat, before speaking.
“You don’t have to force yourself to understand and adapt to me. As I’ve said before, I don’t particularly care. Save the insincere gestures for later. I have no need for them right now.”
“That was my intention.”
“Good.”
Nodding, Calian stared directly into Randel’s deep blue eyes without wavering.
“I heard you attended the Noble Council in our stead.”
“You’ve heard already?”
“I listen more than I speak.”
“I see.”
“Thank you. For looking out for us.”
“I was merely repaying a debt.”
“Still, thank you.”
Without asking why Randel had suddenly paid him a visit, Calian offered his gratitude—something Randel was surely unaccustomed to hearing. He then gestured toward the black robe draped over an empty sofa; he wasn’t sure if Den had left it behind or if Randel had brought it himself.
“And thank you for returning this instead of throwing it away.”
“……Is this my repayment?”
“I’m not repaying you. I’m thanking you.”
His clear, melodic voice carried the same unwavering directness as his bright red gaze.
“To acknowledge your consideration, isn’t a simple thank-you enough? For both of us, Brother Randel.”
At those words, Randel, who had kept his lips sealed for some time, parted them slightly. But, seeming to give up on finding a reply, he simply reached out and took a sip of the lemon tea—its sweetness as potent as the joy Yan always felt upon seeing Calian.
Recognizing the silent gesture as Randel’s response, a hint of amusement colored Calian’s voice.
“A little sweetness is just what a day like this needs, don’t you think?”
“Pointless.”
“I’m glad you like it, then.”
A pleased look crossed Calian’s face.
He took another sip of his own tea, swallowing the identical sweetness.
All the while, his gaze remained locked on Randel’s—on eyes that no longer hid in the depths, but met his own head-on.