Chapter 4: What a Foolish Way to Live (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 4: What a Foolish Way to Live (3)
A truly strange and unfamiliar day had passed.
He’d half-expected to open his eyes and find himself back in Secritia, or perhaps even in the afterlife. But his hopes were dashed when Yan’s bell woke him. Nothing had changed.
“Did you have pleasant dreams, Your Highness?”
Calian sat up and drank the morning tea Yan offered before returning the empty cup. After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he announced, “I’m going to cut my hair.”
Hearing this, Yan’s large eyes blinked. It was so obvious he was wondering if he’d misheard that Calian repeated himself.
“My hair. I’m going to cut it.”
Calian made a cutting motion at his bangs with two fingers. It was a clear sign that Yan had not, in fact, misheard. Yan quickly pushed aside his bewilderment and replied, “Yes, Your Highness. I will make the preparations at once.”
Before long, the royal family’s personal hairdresser arrived in Calian’s room. Cautiously holding a pair of scissors, he asked, “Are you certain, Your Highness?”
Calian’s brow furrowed.
Like most knights, he disliked repeating himself. This situation, where he had to say “cut my hair” three times, was not to his liking. Why was everyone so worked up over something so trivial? Calian gestured to the scissors and said, “Do I have to do it myself?”
“No, Your Highness! My apologies.”
At last, the snipping began.
After a few crisp sounds from the scissors, he was finally free of the dark hair that had frustratingly covered half his face.
Calian raised his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror. It was the first time he had gotten a proper look at his own face.
Hoh.
A smile touched Calian’s lips.
He realized the rumors were true—he really did resemble Freya, who was said to be the reincarnation of a goddess.
This face… what a magnificent inheritance Freya left behind.
Calian nodded, satisfied.
“It suits you very well, Your Highness.”
Seeing him, Yan also spoke with a pleased expression. But his voice trailed off, a thread of anxiety creeping in.
“But I’m not sure if Prince Franz will let this slide.”
“He throws a fit if I so much as make eye contact with him. Of course he won’t let it slide.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. I wonder how he’ll react at breakfast this morning…”
“You said it suits me. That’s all that matters.”
Calian rose from his seat with a grin.
“I can’t keep acting like a fool just because he hates me.”
To Yan, it looked like a cheerful, beaming smile. Faced with an expression and words so unlike the Calian he knew, Yan’s face filled with surprise.
What showed on Calian’s face at that moment was a confidence he had never once displayed. This sudden change made Yan uneasy. It was a welcome development, of course, but unsettling all the same.
“Still, I worry you’ll only make him angrier.”
“Don’t worry.”
On the way to the dining hall, Calian spoke reassuringly to the fidgeting Yan.
“I’ll handle it.”
He arrived at the dining hall and took his seat. Not long after, Franz entered. His gaze, hazy as always, swept across the room, falling first on Randel’s empty chair and then on Calian’s face.
His narrow, light green eyes stared down at Calian’s red ones. Calian did not avoid his gaze. With his face no longer hidden, he looked straight at Franz.
A clear sneer surfaced on Franz's face.
Then, Franz tore his eyes away. Yan hastily wiped the shock from his expression.
Is that it? A sneer and it’s over?
Unbelievably, Franz sat down in his own seat without saying a single word. And he did not look at Calian again.
Calian’s brow twitched slightly.
He was thinking the exact same thing as Yan. The mad prince had actually taken his seat without a word.
I have no idea what sort of whim this is.
Randel entered, breaking a silence that felt poised to erupt into chaos. As always, Randel sat down, barely acknowledging Calian’s presence.
The meal was served, and the three princes focused on their plates in silence.
Just as Yan was beginning to feel relieved, thinking that breakfast might end without incident…
“…Hey.”
It finally happened.
There was only one person in the room whom Franz would address in such a way. And that person continued his meal with perfect etiquette, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
When Calian didn’t look at him, Franz's lips twitched. It was the same expression he always made just before his temper exploded. This time, Yan’s heart sank into his stomach.
But the person at the center of it all, Calian, remained perfectly serene. His expression was calm, as if this had nothing to do with him.
“Hey. Blood-eyes.”
Franz spat out the words again.
Calian, who had been debating whether to ignore him once more, looked up at Franz after a slight delay. Just as Franz was about to say something, Calian’s lips parted first.
“Calian.”
After quietly stating his own name, Calian speared a piece of bread with his fork. “…is my name,” he added, his tone unchanged.
The reaction came from Randel.
His graceful movements ceased. Randel lifted his head to look at Calian, whose entire demeanor had changed overnight. But that was all. It wasn’t in his nature to interfere. Randel soon resumed his meal.
“Ahh.”
Franz's mouth twisted into a smirk. He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them, taking a moment to process what he’d just heard. Then, looking down at the knife in his right hand, he spoke in a low voice.
“Right. I should call you. By your name.”
“Yes.”
Calian’s reply came without hesitation.
As Calian began to drink his water, the tip of the knife in Franz's hand tapped against the table.
The color drained from Yan’s face.
Is this what you meant by ‘handling it,’ Your Highness? How is any of this part of your plan?
Franz laughed again.
A childish laugh spread across his face—and for that reason, it was all the more chilling.
Then, Franz threw the knife in his right hand straight at Yan.
— Swoosh!
He was taking his anger at Calian out on his attendant.
For a split second, Yan's arm rose to shield his face, but he stopped.
The thought struck him: if he blocked it, that anger would be turned on Calian. Instead of shielding himself, Yan squeezed his eyes shut.
At the same instant, Calian’s arm moved.
— Thwack!
He set down his water glass, his arm shooting out to snatch the knife from mid-air. It all happened faster than Yan could even close his eyes. Franz's gaze lingered for a moment on the water glass on the table.
Despite being set down in a hurry, the water inside hadn’t even rippled.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Red drops of blood fell from the hand that had caught the knife’s blade.
Seeing this, Franz said, “Oops.”
Yan’s eyes darted back and forth—from Calian’s back, to his hand, to the knife, to the blood trickling down the blade, to Franz's smiling face.
He felt his mind going blank.
It wasn’t because of the knife that had flown at him, but because he feared this situation would spiral completely out of control.
Calian stood up. He took the blood-stained knife and quietly placed it on the table in front of Franz. Then, looking at Franz, he smiled back.
“It’s alright.”
The meaning of his words was strange.
Was he saying ‘it’s alright’ because of his injured hand, or was he forgiving Franz's rudeness?
Or perhaps both.
A few drops of blood fell onto Franz's clothes.
Calian turned and walked out of the dining hall.
*
The afternoon arrived after the mentally draining ordeal of calming down Yan. The seventeen-year-old attendant had been sobbing his eyes out over the wound on the prince’s hand.
Calian had endured the sight of Franz to attend his riding lesson, only to find a pony waiting for him instead of a horse. The creature’s round, innocent eyes stared up at him, and Calian’s face crumpled into a deep frown.
Calian did not yet have a horse of his own. This was because the previous Calian had been terrified of them. The memory surfaced, and Calian covered his face with his palm in second-hand embarrassment.
“Is riding that beneath your dignity, my dear Younger Brother Calian?”
Franz.
Calian looked toward the source of the voice.
Perched atop a silver-white horse of clearly fine breeding, Franz looked down on him. Calian wiped the expression from his face and offered a polite bow.
Franz's eyes briefly swept over the bandage wrapped around Calian’s hand. Then he let out another smirk. Seeing this, Calian’s brow twitched, but he averted his gaze to avoid taking the bait again.
That’s when a particular horse caught his eye. It was the second one Franz had brought with him. Calian, naturally appraising the animal, was deeply impressed.
That’s a very fine horse.
It was a black steed with white fur only on its right foreleg’s ankle. Its well-groomed mane and tail fluttered, every strand perfect. Its well-defined muscles and sleek build told him it was an even better horse than the one Franz was currently riding.
“He’s a stubborn one. I was about to entrust him to a trainer.”
It was a beast so wild that no one had ever managed to ride it. Yet Calian’s eyes remained glued to the horse. Seeing this, the corners of Franz's mouth lifted again. He spoke to Calian.
“If you can ride it, I’ll give it to you. But if you fail, I’ll have that apology for this morning’s incident, Younger Brother Calian.”
At that, Yan took an involuntary step forward, worried Calian might fall. Fire sparked in Franz's eyes at the sight.
It annoyed him.
The way Yan had almost tried to block the knife that morning. The way he was trying to step in front of him now.
As if he were Calian’s guardian. A mere attendant.
Noticing this, Calian subtly stepped in front of Yan, drawing Franz's gaze back to himself before calmly replying, “Very well.”
Soon, Calian began to walk slowly toward the horse.
As if it had inherited Franz's temperament, the horse's eyes burned with fury. It was utterly resolved to let no one on its back.
Looking at the defiant animal, a deep smile spread across Calian’s lips.
His gentle eyes transformed in an instant, now radiating pure killing intent.
It was the gaze of someone who had taken countless lives.
It was a chilling stare that saw not a living horse, but dozens of cuts of meat. A three-year-old steed raised in comfort stood no chance against it.
The proud steed's eyes wavered.
Soon, its eyes became as round and docile as the pony’s from moments before. Only then did Calian’s eyes curve into a smile again.
In the end, the horse could not refuse Calian as he mounted the saddle. Only Franz, who knew the horse’s temperament, struggled to hide his disbelief.
Yan, who knew for a fact that Calian had never practiced riding, was overcome with emotion. My prince learned horsemanship from a book! he thought.
He still assumed Calian had learned this from the knight novels he’d been reading. In truth, it would be more accurate to say Yan wasn't thinking at all.
Calian patted the now-docile horse’s neck and said, “Raven. That’s your name.”
Black. Like a crow.
Whether it understood the meaning of its name or not, Raven let out a snort at its new master’s words. A grin on his face, Calian turned his head to look at Franz.
“Thank you.”
It was, to some extent, sincere. Regardless of the process, he had acquired a fine horse. In his good mood, Calian added one more thing.
“Older Brother Franz.”
The words were entirely intentional.
Franz's face hardened into a stone mask.