Chapter 273
Chapter 273
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 273
Chapter Title: 76. Idrian Leonberger (1)
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The royal palace was at peace.
The nobles who had gathered in the capital for the funeral caused a brief commotion upon hearing it had been canceled, but that disturbance was confined to the palace outskirts.
Deep within the palace, the inner quarters where the royal family resided were utterly silent.
Among them, the eastern wing of what had once been the 1st Prince's Palace—now called the Crown Prince's Palace—was especially quiet.
This was thanks to the royal decree forbidding any disturbances that might interrupt the palace master's rest.
Of course, even without the decree, no one in the deep palace lacked the refinement to cause a racket.
The only one who might have was the palace's master himself, Idrian Leonberger.
But Idrian Leonberger was currently in a severely weakened state, recuperating, and in no condition to stir up trouble like before.
He rarely even stepped out of his room, spending his days whittling wood with a carving knife.
Thanks to this, the Crown Prince's Palace—and the entire royal palace—enjoyed an unprecedented peace.
At least on the surface.
"I've never heard of a woman like that before."
The kingdom's sole duke crouched in the open yard of the Crown Prince's Palace, whispering.
"What kind of woman could make Your Highness speak of her so fondly?"
An elderly marquis hunched before him, muttering.
"I don't know much myself. But one thing's certain—when His Highness spoke of this 'Anne,' his face was one I'd never seen before."
A woman with droopy eyes and light brown hair provided further details before the two men.
"What exactly did that expression look like?"
The old marquis asked, and the woman pondered for a moment.
"A flushed face with dreamy eyes, a smile like he had a sweet candy in his mouth. Or perhaps a stern expression with distant eyes, a bitter smile like he'd swallowed gall."
Even as she paused in thought, the old marquis pressed her.
"I don't know what face you're describing, Marquis."
Apologizing for her vague answer, the woman drooped her already sagging eyes further.
"In simple terms, was it the face of a boy in love, or a man who's been rejected?"
Despite his apparent arousal, the old marquis kept prodding her.
"How can one judge a person's heart from their face alone? Come on, Marquis, stop being so pathetic and give it a rest."
Unable to stand it any longer, the young duke stepped in to scold the marquis.
"No, you know it's obvious at a glance."
"Knowing it at a glance is what's weird."
The duke replied indifferently to the marquis's complaint, then turned to the woman.
"No surname or anything like that?"
"He just called her Anne."
As she answered awkwardly, the old marquis jumped back in.
"Nobles dislike short names. It's probably not even her real name."
"Who doesn't know that?"
The duke scowled at the marquis's point that Anne was surely a nickname.
"Joanna's Anne, Angelina's Anne. Anna's Anne too. There's no shortage of Annes."
"Instead of that, why not start with those around His Highness? Check the maids or ladies connected to him who go by Anne."
"Anne, Anne."
The young duke stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Guess we'll have to dig through everything."
"I'll help."
The old marquis chimed in eagerly at the duke's words.
"Then you handle the ladies, Marquis. I'll take the north. Not many women up there, so grilling a few unmarried rangers should narrow it down."
"Ladies are easy—flip through the noble registry, and we'll have answers."
"Maids, then..."
"Maids fall under Kirguyen the Prime Minister, who also handles palace affairs. Ask him."
The duke and marquis divvied up the tasks.
"Can't rule out an old flame either. His Highness used to prowl the capital's social clubs in his youth, so check there too."
"My intel doesn't reach that far."
"Young Lord Ilai ran with him back then."
"True, he'd know all about it."
The woman watched quietly before turning away.
The marquis and duke, oblivious to her leaving, kept exchanging ideas.
"Meet back here this evening."
"Got it. See you then."
They bid each other good luck with grim faces and left the Crown Prince's Palace.
The duke sought out his subordinates at once.
"Anyone know someone called Anne by nickname? Bring 'em all."
Per his orders, the knights rounded up rangers and quizzed them about Anne.
By dusk, a few rangers stood before the duke.
"Know an Anne?"
"Village two days from our fief has a woman."
"Details."
"Baker with killer skills. Used to be quite the beauty in her youth."
"Youth? How old?"
"Don't know exactly. Her youngest tried joining the rangers and failed..."
"Married. Next."
"John the carter's daughter is Anne."
"Oh? John has a daughter? Age?"
"Turned eleven last year..."
"Pass. Next."
After many questions, only one ranger remained.
"Yorden Company, eh."
"Yes, sir!"
"So, ranger—what's your Anne?"
The ranger stiffened, glancing nervously before speaking.
"Me."
"What?"
"Name's Anadrian. Too long, and sounds like His Highness, so they call me Anne."
The duke sighed.
"Dismissed, all of you. Ranger Anne stays—twenty laps around the training grounds."
"Sir? Why just me..."
"No common sense means your body suffers."
The ranger protested briefly, but the duke waved them all off irritably.
"Even the captain's the same—zero tact."
Muttering, the duke asked his knights about northern ladies, but no luck.
"Hope the marquis found something."
Night fell, and the duke headed to the Crown Prince's Palace as planned.
"Nothing. Maids, ladies—none fit."
"Same here."
"Checked the social clubs?"
"Need Ilai for that, but he hasn't been around lately..."
"Ugh. His Majesty will be disappointed."
"Even His Majesty knows?"
"More than knows—he's deeply interested."
The duke sighed at the lack of leads, when the marquis suddenly exclaimed.
"What?"
"Count Kirguyen mentioned an Anne once."
"No way..."
"His eldest daughter—he calls her Anne sometimes."
"Arwen could shorten to Anne, sure."
Just then, the subject herself appeared at the Crown Prince's Palace.
"Is Anne your nickname, by chance?"
Her face chilled at the abrupt question.
"Never used it."
"But your father..."
"I don't use nicknames."
Her firm denial left the men awkward and silent.
Grasping at straws, they explained and asked her opinion.
"Just ask His Highness directly."
They exchanged stunned glances.
"It's... impolite to ask the man himself about such things."
"Investigating behind his back is the real discourtesy."
Their lame excuse fell flat.
"Follow me."
She turned sharply and led them to the crown prince's chambers.
"You're here?"
The crown prince, propped up in bed whittling wood, greeted them warmly.
The lady knight stared at his hands.
He followed her gaze down to his own hands, then awkwardly hid his bandage-wrapped, cut-and-stabbed fingers under the covers.
"Why so late, though?"
His obvious attempt to change the subject. But she answered earnestly instead of calling him out.
"His Majesty summoned me for a private word. On my way out, I thought to pay respects. Did I disturb your rest?"
"His Majesty?"
"Nothing for you to worry about."
The old Idrian might have accused them of scheming without him, but he just nodded disinterestedly.
"What about Vincent and the marquis?"
He eyed the two stiffly standing behind her.
As the arrow turned on them, the duke and marquis nudged each other.
"They have something to ask."
She spoke for the pitiful pair.
"Ask? What?"
"About this Anne person."
Again, she answered for them.
"Ah, Anne. What about her? What's curious?"
She shrugged and stepped back.
The marquis finally edged forward hesitantly.
"This Anne... who is she, where from?"
The crown prince beamed innocently.
"Anne's dead."
The two men froze.
"S-sorry."
After thawing, they shot resentful glances at the lady knight and bowed.
Even her stoic face showed rare dismay.
"They didn't kill her—why apologize?"
Ignoring them, the crown prince smiled brightly.
An awkward silence fell until she cleared her throat and eyed the wood he was fiddling with.
"What are you making?"
"This?"
He proudly held up his work.
"Almost done. Wait a bit, and you can see."
She could hardly believe the lumpy mess was nearly complete, but his eager expression made her relent.
"I was curious anyway. I'll wait."
"Good choice."
Beaming, he grabbed the knife and resumed carving.
The stranded duke and marquis sat and watched.
Their faces grew heavy.
His clumsy whittling showed none of the power that crushed foes in armor or the precision that struck openings.
For those who remembered the north's finest knight, watching him fumble like a child with an ill-fitting toy was painful.
Yet they didn't look away—they watched.
"Done!"
Finally, he completed it.
A crooked, ragged, unbalanced mess.
Evidently pleased, he proudly displayed it.
"This is the sword, this the armor. This is hair."
Without that explanation, even recognizing it as human would be impossible.
They couldn't criticize before his beaming pride.
"It exudes manly valor."
"It's a woman."
The duke praised stiffly, then shut up.
"Holding the enemy's head—truly brave."
"Not enemy head, helmet. See? Has plumes and eye holes."
The marquis looked away, embarrassed.
"Full of life."
The lady knight offered a vague compliment.
"Arwen's got a good eye. Made it thinking of someone I know."
His sulky face finally brightened.
As he smiled, the duke and marquis relaxed, watching fondly.
But the warmth didn't last.
"This is Anne."
The room froze again.
The duke and marquis left the Crown Prince's Palace, leaving only Adelia Bayern to watch over the sleeping crown prince, who clutched the mangled statue tightly.
As night deepened, the rigidly seated Adelia Bayern quietly rose.
She headed to the door.
Swoosh.
Beyond the silently opened door stood a man in a hooded cloak and backpack, as if departing on a long journey.
"Lord Ilai."
Having sensed Bernard Ilai long before, Adelia Bayern looked at him pityingly.
"Don't give me that look. I know what you're thinking. A man must be pretty pathetic to sneak in like a thief while His Highness sleeps instead of visiting awake. I know I'm pathetic."
His voice hushed to avoid waking the prince, Adelia Bayern stepped aside wordlessly instead of replying.
Bernard Ilai hesitated at the threshold.
Even her gestures urging him in didn't help.
He just stood outside, gazing at the sleeping crown prince.
Finally, he sighed and grumbled.
"I lack the face to see His Highness now. He's hurting more than anyone, yet I acted so emotional."
Adelia Bayern opened her mouth, then closed it.
She figured her poor words wouldn't comfort him.
Instead of rash consolation, she asked,
"Off on a long trip?"
"To the southern front."
"What's there?"
"Southern army commander requested Silver Lion placements as precaution."
"Understood. If His Highness asks, I'll tell him."
"Thank you."
Bernard Ilai bowed crisply.
"Take care of His Highness."
Then he turned and vanished.
"Haa."
Adelia Bayern sighed softly, closed the door quietly, and returned.
Resuming her place by the bed, she glanced at the crown prince.
His steady breathing had grown irregular.
Unnatural expression, twitching eyelids.
Adelia Bayern chuckled.
"Jeez."
The crown prince grumbled, opening his eyes.
"You okay letting him go like that?"
"Ugh, whatever. He left on his own—did I push him?"
His grumpy gaze drifted to the door where Bernard Ilai had been.
"You seem worried. If so much, why not stop him?"
"No. Keep him close, and he'll just trail behind me again."
Staying under a great tree's branches in calm weather means you'll never get proper sun, no matter how long.
The Ilai count's house was due to reclaim its former glory, he said sternly.
But his eyes held only concern, not sternness, making Adelia Bayern smile.
Her smile prompted him to huff and pull the covers over.
"...Pass a message to Count Branburt."
After a pause, a sullen voice emerged from under the blanket.
"What?"
"Heard about three hundred tough mercenaries from the subjugation HQ stayed put through the chaos. Send them all to the southern front under Ilai."
Volunteers who held the fort after that mess—if trained right, fine knights.
"Three hundred knights could revive even a ruined house."
Hearing his muffled words, Adelia Bayern smiled again.