A Lump of Greed
Drip... drip...
Somewhere deep underground, a short distance from the imperial palace, a vast cell stood ringed by solid iron bars. Water droplets struck the cold stone floor, playing a lifeless, mineral note.
"Damn it... This can't be. This cannot be happening."
The voice was thick with viscous hatred. The golden hair that had once resembled the sun had long since lost its luster, and his sapphire eyes were bloodshot, gleaming with murderous light. The Second Prince of the Empire, Albireo — fallen into the abyss — twisted his face as thick chains bound his arms and legs.
Clang!
"You there!!! Is anyone out there!!!"
Albireo wrenched at the chains with all his strength, screaming until his throat tore. The only answer was silence. He had already tried hundreds of times to shape his magic and escape, but a spell woven into the chains disrupted the flow of his mana, and every attempt came to nothing.
"Damn it all... That old fool had to go berserk for no reason and drag me into even greater crimes! What a stupid, worthless geezer!"
Albireo spat the words toward the Magic Tower Master, who was already dead. His thrashing went on for a long while. Then, panting, he snapped his eyes open with a savage glare.
Grand Duke... Did you think this was the end? Sir Gawain and Sir Bahamut may have fallen, but my mother's house — the Marquisate of Lampercen — still stands. I will kill you. I swear it.
House Lampercen was counted among the Empire's most formidable powers. Combined with the families still under his own banner, taking revenge on the Grand Duke was hardly impossible. His standing would be shaken by this affair, yes — but compared to his sister and his elder brother, it was self-evident that he possessed the qualifications of an emperor. In the end, everything would return to its proper place.
So Albireo burned with thoughts of vengeance.
Step. Step.
Footsteps reached his ear. Had one of the elite knights of the Imperial 1st Knight Order come again to deliver his meal? The sight of his elder brother's dogs putting on airs was almost more than he could bear, but venting his rage and making threats at a time like this was the mark of an amateur. What he needed now was to swallow his own blood and search for a way out. The knights who had come so far had refused to hear a word he said, so he had never even been able to make an offer — but today, he told himself, today he would succeed. He fixed every scrap of his attention on the approaching presence.
Come on, then. I'll use you to get out of here. I swear it.
With opportunity standing right before his eyes, Albireo's mind spun at a furious clip. Among knights there were always a few with a healthy interest in material gain; a fortune should be enough to start. Add a promise of advancement once he sat the throne, and he could reel the man in.
He was still turning over the shape of his offer when the owner of the footsteps appeared.
"Your meal, Your Highness Albireo!"
Clatter.
A thoroughly ordinary face, and a manner of speaking that was somehow off. A knight Albireo had never seen before slid a bowl of bread and soup through the bars and into the cell.
What's this? Was there someone like him in the Imperial 1st Knight Order?
Albireo knew every knight in his elder brother's faction by name. A question mark formed in his mind. He spoke in a grave tone.
"A moment. Where are you assigned?"
"The Imperial 1st Knight Order!"
The knight answered with a sloppy, unpolished air unlike any of the others who had come before. Something about him was unnatural, but Albireo interpreted it in whatever way best suited his appetite.
A newcomer to the Order? Fortune smiles on me!
Color returned to a face worn down by prison life. For reasons he could not guess, a freshman had been sent today. It was the perfect chance — which meant this was precisely the moment to stay calm. Albireo pulled a mask of falsehood over his features and opened his mouth.
"The Imperial 1st Knight Order... so the insolent lot who dare take that tone with me have come again. Still, I have a feeling you and I might be able to talk."
"Hm? That we can talk — whatever do you mean by that?"
"I have a proposal for you. Would you care to hear it?"
"Oh! A proposal, you say?"
"I would."
The knight's tone sounded almost delighted. Albireo hesitated at the strangeness of it, then decided the man was simply pleased at the prospect of a cut and pressed on.
"I'll be blunt. What say you to aiding my escape? If I succeed in leaving this dungeon, I will see that you possess gold and jewels beyond anything you have touched in your life."
"Ooh. Gold and jewels! How terribly tempting!"
"That is not all. When I become the sun of the Empire, I shall also promise you a title that will more than satisfy you."
"My, a title as well? Your Highness has thought of everything!"
"Mm... quite."
Faced with a knight who looked excited from start to finish, Albireo pulled a dubious expression. This knight was strange no matter how you looked at him. Did even the swords of the imperial house change the moment they caught the scent of treasure?
Enough. It doesn't matter what manner of speech some stupid knight uses. However you look at it, this works in my favor.
Albireo shook the thought off at once. He was going to kill the man anyway, once the escape succeeded, to keep his mouth shut. What did his way of talking matter? The fellow seemed to have taken the bait. All that remained was to think through what he would do after he fled, once he had placed himself in the care of House Lampercen.
Certain of success, Albireo was just about to smile a private smile of triumph when—
"Ahat. Still thrashing about even in that state. In more ways than one, you are truly something, Your Highness!"
"!?"
In the place where the knight had been standing only a moment before, a stranger now stood. Albireo's gaze flew, unbidden, to the man's face. It looked as if a youth's features and an old man's had been fused together, and it was impossible to tell whether the result was male or female. The eyes, nose, and mouth did not belong to one another at all — a grotesque shape, as if someone had assembled a face from pieces of many different people.
Albireo cried out in alarm.
"Wh-who the hell are you!"
"Hahat! How cruel of you! You don't recognize me even after it was your magic that changed this face!"
"You madman...!"
Clang!!
Sensing danger, Albireo strained with everything he had to tear free of the chains. This man was dangerous. Did he hold a grudge? Instinct rang a violent alarm, but in a dungeon this deep underground there was no one to call for help.
"Dear, dear. There's no one here to protect Your Highness, is there? And bound like this, unable to use magic! Even I can't help but feel a little sorry!"
"Damn it, who are you? Do you have some grudge against me!"
"Hmm. It seems you truly don't remember. Then I suppose I shall have to explain. Does Your Highness recall my younger sister, Isabella, who died eight years ago?"
The man had already covered his face with a white mask — Albireo had not seen him put it on — and he flung his arms out in an extravagant gesture. At his words, Albireo dragged up a memory from long ago.
"Isabella's older brother... Don't tell me you're Laplace Diepove!?"
"Congratulations on the correct answer, Your Highness! It would appear your skull hasn't rusted through entirely, even locked away in this dungeon!"
"Wait. Isabella Diepove was my fiancée, and it was publicly declared that she died by suicide! Her death was not my doing!"
Albireo scrambled to pile up excuses before the man in the white mask. He denied it to the face in front of him, but the truth was that he had killed that stupid girl himself. She had kept making a nuisance of herself, objecting to his hobby of killing slaves, so he had poured magic into her until she admitted he was right — and she had not lasted long before she simply died. He had killed her in a fit of temper, but she had been the daughter of House Diepove, a distinguished count's family, so he had it declared a suicide to keep a feud from breaking out. Even in death the woman was a bother.
"Aha. So it was a suicide, then? Not a single shred of falsehood?"
"Hah. Yes. How many times must I say it before it sinks in? More to the point — I may be locked in a dungeon, but I am still a prince of the Empire. Do you truly believe you will walk away unharmed after threatening me?"
"Hmm. I don't think that will be a problem! Because Your Highness will be processed as a suicide as well!"
"...What?"
The words made him doubt his own ears. Fear surfaced on Albireo's face. What had this madman just said? Did he mean to kill him? No. That could not be allowed. Feeling the sudden, crushing nearness of death, Albireo began to pour out whatever words he could find before the white mask looking down at him.
"Wait! Listen to me! I am truly sorry about what happened to Isabella!"
"Hmm? Are you truly sincere?"
"Y-yes! Give me a chance to set it right!"
"Ahat! I'm afraid that will be rather difficult!"
"What? Why!?"
"Because I find it so terribly hurtful that you don't remember me at all! After my sister's death, when I came to see you — did you not sear a permanent burn into my face with your magic?"
"Ah...?"
The words struck a corner of his memory. Albireo shut his mouth and stared at the man before him. The figure in the white mask claimed to be hurt, and yet he radiated an atmosphere of pure delight. It was over. This man had already decided to kill him.
The instant he understood that every path of retreat was sealed, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, and Albireo swam through the current of his own fading consciousness.
Where was Sir Gawain? Where was his master? He could not die like this. He was meant to become the sun of the Empire.
As Albireo's body twitched and his mind slipped away, the masked man addressed him in a voice full of pleasure.
"Hahat. Judging by those delightful little twitches, it seems you're quite taken with the magic I've gifted you!"
"Urgh..."
"Now then, I do hope you'll have a wonderful time playing with my dolls in the dream I've prepared for Your Highness! I'll be taking my leave!"
Even behind the mask, the man's glee was unmistakable. A moment later he filled the space with an unsettling white mana.
The next day, when the Imperial 1st Knight Order came to check on Albireo in his cell, all that remained was a lump of greed that had become a cold corpse — a man who had bitten through his own tongue again and again until it was severed.