Chapter 378: It's Mine (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 378: It's Mine (2)
Seeing two royals out and about had happened many times.
But four? That was a first.
This, of course, referred to the number of royals spotted together outside the palace. People had grown accustomed to seeing Calian and Franz walking together, or Calian with Demirea, or even Calian and Kyrie on an outing. It always seemed to involve Calian, but the point was, seeing them in pairs was no longer a shock. Calian had even been seen visiting secluded bookstores, dessert shops, and quiet restaurants with Demirea.
But this was the first time the Crown Prince and the Prince were openly strolling down Astrisha Street—a place teeming with nobles—accompanied by their fiancées. Perhaps no royals in history, save for the untamable Hatsuara, had ever wandered outside the palace so casually.
"I went out for dinner the other day and had to turn right back around. I walked into the restaurant, and there was Prince Calian dining with the young Duchess Siegfried. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me."
"I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing them wander around without the streets being cleared or a single guard in sight."
"You probably never will. Once His Highness the Crown Prince goes to Camillon and the other princes turn twenty and leave Kairisis, we won't be seeing this sort of thing anymore."
Their presence caused a quiet stir. These were nobles, not commoners who would gawk or cheer at the mere sight of royalty, but an immense number of eyes followed the group relentlessly.
"Still, His Majesty is truly remarkable. To let not just one, but two of them out of the palace like this."
"But isn't it a fine sight? Until just a few years ago, we could barely catch a glimpse of them unless we visited the palace or attended a major event."
"That's true for us, but I'm sure there are those who don't see it so kindly."
"He probably allows it because he knows their safety won't be compromised even if they wander about like that."
No, that wasn't it at all.
Lemain, who was a massive worrywart, had never permitted this outing. He was likely receiving the report right this moment, dumbfounded once again.
In fact, Lemain had only found out after the fact that his two sons had taken Arsen to Siegfried. Only Alan knew the depth of the king’s shock when, upon hearing they had gone out again and assuming they were just playing near the palace gates, he was told they had headed straight for the teleportation magic circle. Not that Alan cared, of course.
Consequently, Lemain hadn't even had the chance to oppose this outing, either. Calian did have the admirable thought that it would be nice to get his father's permission beforehand. It was just that Lemain was in a meeting, Calian's patience wasn't long enough to wait for it to end, and the knights at the palace gates lacked the mettle to stop him—especially when he had brought along the essential preparations for this trip: a docile Franz and "our Hina."
And so, that was how they arrived on Astrisha Street.
"So, that's her."
The gazes of the onlookers slid past the prince smiling as if he had plucked the most brilliant flower in the world, past the Crown Prince looking down with a face so still it was hard to tell if he was breathing, and past the young Duchess Siegfried with her usual grave and dignified expression. As if by unspoken agreement, every eye came to rest on one person.
"I've seen her a few times, but seeing them out together like this… the engagement rumors must be true."
"They said she's a healer, right?"
While Demirea was accustomed to the public gaze, Hina was not. Yet, Hina was the one receiving the most attention. A healer who didn't need a sacred artifact, a half-elf, and the Crown Prince's fiancée. Any one of those would have been enough to draw attention; with royalty and the young duchess at her side, the stares were endless.
"Hina, are you uncomfortable?" Calian asked quietly from atop his black horse, which, as always, held its head high and trotted loudly, thoroughly enjoying the situation.
Hina shook her head and moved her hands.
– It’s not uncomfortable. Just… a little fascinating. When I walked around with my brother, people didn't stare like this.
"That's probably because Kyrie is too scary to look at. He's incredibly tall, always has an angry look on his face, and on top of that, he's my knight."
– But people aren't scared of the gentle Prince.
"Because I'm pretty."
There wasn't a hint of boasting in his tone. Hina laughed silently at the statement, which had been delivered in an excessively flat voice. Behind them, a sharp click of an irritated tongue was followed by a deep sigh. The sounds came from the other two, who knew all too well that Calian was incapable of lying.
Beaming as he ignored the reactions from his fiancée and brother, Calian pointed toward one side of the street. He made a point of moving his hand, which was wrapped tightly in snow-white bandages, making it stand out even more against his dark purple, gold-embroidered jacket and pitch-black shirt.
"Look. I see Dame Slake's boutique over there."
The crowd's eyes, which had been fixed on Hina, naturally drifted to that hand. By the time they left the boutique, rumors that Calian had injured his hand would surely have spread across all of Kairisis.
Satisfied with the result he had engineered, Calian entered Satin's boutique without further delay. Franz, meanwhile, exercised immense patience, tightly closing his eyes to suppress the urge to hang Satin upside down on the spot as she brought out his formal attire design and tried to customize a dress that would somehow share a theme with it.
Pink, pale yellow, bluish-purple, sky blue, beige. There were elaborate dresses with many layers of lace and frills, as well as simpler ones with practical lengths and decorations. With Demirea translating her sign language, Hina chose various colors and styles one by one. Throughout the entire process, she never once glanced at a light green dress.
A green-grape-colored dress. Calian knew it was because she worried Franz might be reminded of the dress Silike had worn in her final moments. Surely, Franz had noticed as well.
– I don't like flower ornaments.
For Hina, who loved every flower in the world, to say such a thing.
– Instead, please add lots of pretty gems. His Royal Highness the Crown Prince will buy all of them.
And contrary to Calian's expectations, Hina added this. This time, only Franz realized she was extracting the full price for the trouble she had gone through to save him, ensuring she wouldn't accumulate any more debts.
– You can buy them, right?
"I can."
– I will wear them well.
"Okay."
Thus, Hina had her pretty clothes made, Demirea enjoyed looking at dresses she would never wear in her lifetime, and Franz paid the bill. Calian, who had done nothing to help and spent no money, walked out of the boutique feeling strangely uncomfortable, as if he were sending his precious child off to be married.
"Will you return immediately, or would you like to rest for a moment before leaving?" Demirea asked.
Looking at the excited Hina and at Franz—who, like himself, normally had no reason to be on Astrisha Street at this hour—Calian replied, "I think we'll stay for a bit. It's been a while."
"As you wish."
Replying briefly, Demirea entered a cafe and returned with a strawberry ice cream, carefully scooped by a rugged, muscular man with hair the color of Adinia petals—a sight that felt strangely familiar. She handed it to Hina but bought none for the two royals, who couldn't eat food on the street, nor for herself, as she didn't particularly care for ice cream.
As they walked toward the small fountain in the middle of the street, letting the now much-subsided stares wash over them, Calian looked at Franz.
"Demirea said she would bring Ririe to the palace tomorrow, so you should clear your schedule, brother."
"Alright."
"Though she might not come."
"Why?"
"I heard she's stubbornly insisting on coming only after she turns ten."
"…Her age."
"I think that's why she hasn't come. Apparently, other children only enter the palace once they turn ten."
Franz nodded at the unspoken addition, ‘At least, in Kairis.’ He finally understood why Ririe hadn't visited the palace all this time, even after receiving an invitation.
"I don't mind."
"Yes. I told them to let her know that it wasn't a rule set by the palace."
"Got it."
"I'll let you know when she arrives."
"Got it."
Soon, Calian turned his head toward Demirea, intending to thank her for all her help today. He also wanted to say that although they had come out for a reason, it was nice to spend some leisurely time after so long.
Flash!
Boom! Boom!
He closed his mouth as a roaring sound burst forth, lighting up the sky like fireworks. The corners of his red eyes, which had been curved in a pleasant arc, sharpened instantly.
The explosion came from the direction of Naeransha, where Gray had been visiting often lately. A crowded evening. A mana shell, detonated in midair.
Yes. That was no firework. It was definitely a mana shell.
"…Eila."
As the crowd dismissed the sudden spark as a cheap firework and resumed their steps, Calian, having grasped the situation immediately, turned his head.
"Hina, stay here. Don't go anywhere, and stick close to Demirea and my brother. Brother, please stay here as well. The Valkan will be here soon. Demirea, I leave them to you until then."
Tossing out those few words, Calian leaped onto Raven. Understanding his master's intent to ignore the ban on galloping within the capital, Raven shot forward at his fastest speed.
The remnants of the sparks seemed to fall over Raven's shadow as it vanished in an instant. Franz spoke to Demirea, who was scanning the area with a stiff expression.
"If my brother's new subordinate set that off, this might get troublesome."
They were inside the capital. Calian drawing his sword in plain view of the public had to be avoided at all costs. Demirea, who was thinking the same thing, nodded. She then pulled a small, round sphere from her pocket and threw it into the sky.
Unlike the loud explosion from afar, the sphere Demirea threw made no light or sound. However, her black horse pricked its ears, tossed its head, and stamped its hooves.
Patting the horse's neck, Demirea spoke.
"Siegfried's knights will come here as well. Please do not leave this spot."
"Understood," Franz replied, realizing the object was a silent signal flare that only well-trained Siegfried horses could hear.
Demirea mounted her horse. After taking a few steps, however, she shook her head and returned. Dismounting, she stood before Franz and Hina.
"Though it is generally burdensome, sometimes nothing is as safe as the eyes of the public."
Uttering these cryptic words, Demirea grabbed Hina's hand and placed it into Franz's.
"Well then."
Offering a light bow, Demirea mounted her horse once more. She then galloped away in the direction Calian had gone, leaving the Prince and the Valkan healer holding hands tightly.
The surrounding nobles stopped in their tracks.
Countless eyes locked onto their clasped hands.
Hina, who had held Franz's hand so many times due to his frequent injuries that she felt nothing besides it being slightly inconvenient to eat her ice cream, and Franz, whose mind was complicated by the realization that while it was nice to learn an effective problem-solving method, even the young duchess didn't seem to acknowledge that he wasn't actually that weak, and who was now thinking that he should probably avoid sparring with Calian or Kyrie for a while.
"…Ha."
Thus, the two of them began to wait for the knights, very safely and very wholesomely, under the downpour of stares.
*
Blue Warbler.
The day she first held a mana shell, she had accidentally pressed the ignition button. Unable to deactivate it, she had thrown it toward a distant, empty area.
An explosion roared, and a cloud of dust rose under the clear sky. At the edge of the blast site, a small bird lay dead.
"You have a personality that's prone to taking losses."
Blue Warbler.
A tiny blue bird that had died for no reason. She had never forgotten it.
That was why she had pulled out the mana shell and thrown it into the air—a signal for others to either come help or run away, as they pleased. And then, the bastard had said those words. That she had a personality prone to taking losses.
Eila, who had never heard such an assessment before, smiled faintly.
"Because there's no need to kill uninvolved people."
"If you had thrown it at me, I would have died instead, wouldn't I?"
"I was worried lives more precious than yours might die with you. The buildings around here seem weak."
"That's a loss."
"It's my choice. Whether I take a loss or not is up to me."
The bastard standing before her nodded.
He slightly raised his long, slender sword, letting it catch the rising moonlight. He glanced at the thick, red droplets dripping from the blade before his gaze shifted back to Eila.
"Who sent you? I'm a curious man. I think I need to know that before I go."
"Well. Who indeed?"
"It must hurt. I stabbed you in a painful spot. Doesn't it?"
His sword had pierced through her right collarbone and pulled back out.
It had happened in an instant, in a mere split second.
Enduring the pain that made it all too clear where and how badly she was injured, Eila stood firm, her face unbothered as she replied, "Does it bother you that I don't look like I'm in pain when I should be?"
"Just disappointed."
Replying casually, the bastard flicked his sword. Droplets of blood, the same shade as the stain spreading from Eila's wound, scattered and vanished. Watching this for a moment, he muttered as if to himself, "Does it really not hurt? You're talking back just fine."
Another smile played on Eila's lips. At that, one corner of the bastard's mouth twisted upward.
"…You're a bird."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"Not right now."
"Not right now?"
Eila nodded.
The bastard tilted his head.
Whoosh!
At that moment, a dagger flew from Eila's breast pocket, shooting toward his neck. Simultaneously, Eila lunged forward, sword held in her left hand to make up for her useless right arm.
Swish, tap!
Clang!
Swinging his arm fast enough to whip up a wind, the bastard caught Eila's dagger. Then, spinning his body, he deflected her incoming sword strike.
He was someone who had approached so stealthily that even Eila hadn't noticed him. She knew this attack wouldn't succeed. As if prepared, she immediately ducked to evade his counterattack, suppressing a scream as severed bone and muscle grated against each other.
Swoosh!
Lightly bracing herself on the ground with one arm, Eila swept her leg toward his ankle. It was a fierce attack that had once shattered the ankle of a spy trained in the exact same manner as her, but the bastard simply leaped into the air to avoid it.
His sword flew at her again.
Screeech, clang!
Clang!
Evading the incoming blade by practically rolling aside, Eila quickly scrambled to her feet, barely managing to block his successive strikes.
Despite being incredibly thin, the sword was remarkably heavy, carrying even more weight than the one Kyrie used. With every blow she blocked, she felt as if her shoulders were about to collapse.
"You are a bird."
"I already said I'm not, right now."
"Ah. Right."
"My memory is terrible," the bastard said with a shrug, before lunging at Eila once more.
Clang, clang! Clatter, clang!
Swish, clang!
She blocked, deflected, and evaded the relentless barrage. She moved her arms and legs without pause, throwing hidden weapons she wouldn't have needed if her right arm hadn't been injured.
His sword thrust forward again. Its speed made it seem like a simple deflection would suffice, but she knew its weight would crush her down to her throat if she took the blow head-on. Eila twisted her body to evade and thrust her own sword toward his abdomen.
Thud!
Taking a step back, the tip of the bastard's sword grazed the top of Eila's head. Her neatly pinned silver hairpin came loose and fell to the ground with a clatter. A few strands of her long, ocean-colored hair were sliced off and scattered.
Throb!
Like an electric current, a sharp pain shot through her head. Biting her lower lip, Eila gripped her sword tighter.
Whoosh!
The last dagger from her breast pocket shot toward him. Still wearing that persistent smirk, the bastard reached out with his left hand.
Grab!
He caught the incoming dagger by its blade.
Drip, drip, drip.
Red blood dripped rapidly from his palm down the steel. Gripping the weapon he didn't even need to catch, the bastard grinned.
"I haven't been here long, you see. So I have absolutely no idea who you are. I need to be injured, too, so I don't get hurt even worse later."
He was establishing his claim of self-defense. He would say he was only retaliating after being attacked first, since he didn't know who was backing her.
Those words also meant he was done playing around.
"You should have said something if it hurt. It'll be a shame if you die from holding it in."
The bastard gripped the handle of the dagger.
Holding his own sword in his right hand and the dagger Eila had thrown in his left, he lunged. Biting her lip hard, Eila glared at him.
She transferred the sword from her clumsy left hand to her right. She had to at least extract the price of her shattered hairpin. She charged.
Dash!
Clang, clang!
She blocked his sword. She slashed upward. Spinning, she kicked him in the stomach. Ducking, she evaded his blade once more. She thrust her sword forward, aiming for his leg.
Screeech!
Stab!
Her sword was blocked.
The dagger that had been in his left hand plunged into her flesh. The deeply embedded blade twisted, widening the wound, before pulling out.
Gasping at the vivid sensation, Eila took a step back. Watching her, the bastard made a dismayed face.
"Ah. Over there…"
He fabricated an expression of dismay.
"You should be careful."
Thud.
The low railing of the rooftop caught Eila's leg.
Helplessly, her body tilted backward. She leaned into the empty air, with nothing to support her. Her head and back cleared the rooftop, and finally, her feet left the ground.
Her vision filled with droplets of red blood trailing through the air and a pair of green eyes looking down at the falling blue bird with an expressionless face.
She fell.
Though she was a Blue Warbler, her wings had been broken long ago.
She fell.
She closed her eyes.
But then…
Flutter!
Thud!
A sound like a large cloth catching the wind.
A long moment passed, but the impact she’d braced for never came. Instead of cold stone, something solid cushioned her back. The world became a jarring tumble as she rolled across the ground, held in a tight embrace that seemed to shield her from everything.
A voice spoke, strained and breathless.
“Ah… caught you.”
She could feel the arms wrapped around her trembling.
Then, that same voice called her name.
“Eila.”
She wasn’t dead yet.