Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 171
Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing — Chapter 171
His half-lowered eyelids left his eyes half-hidden, yet they glowed faintly even in the darkness.
Had he been wounded by his older brother’s words?
‘Not at all.’
Rickshel stared into the pitch-black void and sorted through the thoughts that surfaced.
It was this: his older brother occasionally behaved in peculiar ways.
Until now, he had simply brushed it aside, thinking he ought to let his brother do whatever he wished. Looking back, however, a number of odd things existed.
When had this doubt first taken root?
Was it when his brother claimed to have contributed to the completion of the Sanctuary?
Or was it when he abruptly announced he would personally visit House Bydantis for a tailor and a blacksmith?
‘No.’
By then, he had already been ignoring that doubt and accepting the situation.
In that case, he had to go further back.
‘Huuu…’
Rickshel let out a deep sigh inwardly.
In truth, he didn’t even need to guess.
The moment his brother had developed a hidden, heart-sick worry.
Wasn’t it obvious?
It was when the library swallowed his brother.
Perhaps he had studiously ignored it until now precisely because he didn’t want to revive the memory of that time.
His brother had emerged safely, and had even become the master of the Labyrinth.
If so, wasn’t everything resolved? That was what he had told himself.
If this incident hadn’t occurred, his own thinking might never have changed.
He had simply resolved going forward…
‘…that I would protect my brother, and I believed I could.’
Rickshel had been confident.
Even by an objective standard, didn’t his own magical talent closely resemble the Family Head’s?
His future progress would clearly be even more remarkable.
And even if that were not enough, he could also wield the power of ‘Heir to House Asteri.’
Of course, at present, all of it was insufficient.
But looking toward the future—wouldn’t he grow strong enough to protect his people?
He would become an existence capable of resolving anything.
Therefore, whatever his brother did, he could protect him well enough… or so he had thought.
But now that he reconsidered,
‘It was arrogance.’
It was an insolent, laughable notion.
That was why his brother had no choice but to tell him nothing.
Rickshel derided his own arrogance.
His thinking up to now had been wrong.
For Rickshel, who had always lived by rigorous calculation, this could have been a moment of shame.
Yet once he truly realized it, he felt not so much shame as a strange sense of liberation.
Perhaps because a clearer path had come into view.
Rickshel relegated his personal emotions to some distant corner of his mind and returned to the main point.
‘The trouble that befell my brother surely dates back to the Labyrinth.’
Rickshel’s sharp mind spun rapidly.
He recalled and compressed countless deductions, and at last drew out a new hypothesis.
Yes. The clue to this matter was unmistakably.
That peculiar potion his brother had made.
‘…I’ll have to start there.’
How had his brother managed to produce that potion through alchemy?
What had been its foundation?
What were the potion’s ingredients?—questions like these.
Probably the Family Head already had some idea of its true nature.
But…
‘The fact that I was not told.’
Must mean it was not yet the time to tell me.
If he followed his original nature, he would naturally have waited until the Family Head chose to inform him.
However.
Rickshel opened his lowered eyes wide and stared straight ahead.
“There’s no particular need to wait.”
Along with that small murmur, the corner of Rickshel’s mouth twisted upward.
‘There’s no choice but for me to get closer to the truth first.’
Rickshel’s eyes glowed faintly.
To reiterate, this was not an emotion like feeling hurt.
If one had to define it…
It was more accurate to say that some part of Rickshel had awakened…!
…
…
“Peep.”
Nature, who had been watching the brothers’ light quarrel until now, fluttered down and settled on Lion’s hand.
“Do you think he’s really angry too?”
“Peep.”
Nature glanced toward the door Rickshel had entered.
Then, as if having realized something, its expression turned slightly ambiguous before returning to normal.
It shook its head side to side.
“Peep, peep.”
“Right. Of course he’s really pi— I mean, really angry, huh?”
Having misunderstood Nature’s answer, Lion looked at the closed door.
In truth, there wasn’t much he could do.
The option of going in right now and soothing his younger brother existed, but he still couldn’t go in and lay the full story out honestly.
In that case, it was better to handle this affair quickly, swiftly, and without noise, then come back and explain the situation to his brother in more detail.
Tap tap.
Nature’s little wing patted the back of Lion’s hand.
Then, as if telling him to trust it and take care of his business first, it flew up energetically.
“Yeah. I’m counting on you.”
Nothing for it.
In any case, the matter had already erupted.
If so, wouldn’t it be better to clean it up quickly!
Lion promptly finished his preparations and left the room.
And Nature…
“Peeeep!”
Expertly opened the closed door and slipped inside Rickshel’s room.
* * *
The Second Prince surveyed the room.
‘It’s clean.’
He had just finished ‘cleaning the room’ before the man’s return.
He had collected his emergency dagger and various concealed weapons, and had removed anything else that might appear to be a weapon.
He had followed the ‘Merchant Guild Master’s’ advice.
And what remained was…
The Second Prince toyed with something inside his coat, smaller than his palm.
“I bare my entire self…”
This would not be easy.
Not once in his life had he voluntarily revealed his entire self.
Moreover, he most certainly had never done the foolish thing of laying himself bare to someone whose very identity he did not know.
Because what would result from giving away his heart was all too clear.
Thus, until now, the Second Prince had possessed absolutely no will to open his heart and sustain a close relationship with anyone beyond that.
Such a relationship—not having one was better.
…Or so he had thought.
In truth, that thought still hadn’t changed.
Only, an exception had arisen.
That man.
He wanted to win the favor of that man,
whose identity he did not know and whose motives were ambiguous.
Was it because he could undo the curse?
That, too, was correct.
But… The Second Prince decided to focus on a more fundamental and direct cause.
In other words, to put it in a somewhat more childish sentence:
‘It was delicious.’
The dinner that man had brought, that is.
A meal whose composition he had never seen in his life; a broth hot enough to be called scorching, yet delicately flavored, superb.
And things like the act of placing seasoned meat atop his rice…
Setting aside all flowery language:
“…”
Now that he actually tried to say it, his mouth would hardly open.
At any rate, between like and dislike, it was firmly ‘like.’
…In any case, this time he truly intended to deliberate carefully and speak only from his sincere heart.
Because he wanted to find favor, by whatever means.
‘Ah, there’s one more thing.’
It was a characteristic of the fellow’s
that he had learned through conversation.
He was distinctly strong to the strong and weak to the weak. Toward those who acted forcefully with him, he was unbendingly firm and sharp; yet if one showed weakness, he softened at once.
Therefore, if he genuinely revealed his own vulnerable side, the man might well yield.
‘To do that…’
He’d have to bring this out too.
Swish.
The Second Prince took the object he had been toying with out from his coat.
It was a small decorative dagger, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.
Its scabbard had been missing since he began carrying it on his person; the blade was duller than a toy sword.
It was too plain and shabby to serve even as an ornament.
For the Second Prince—indifferent not only to objects but even to human relationships—it was the sole thing he had kept continuously since childhood.
If one asked whether it was out of longing for the mother who had borne him and placed the curse upon him, he would have answered yes in the past.
But as the pain of the curse persisted and he experienced the sensation of sinking into a deep quagmire countless times, that emotion had long since faded.
In his heart, he almost wanted to fling it straight into a furnace, but.
“Keep it with you, and it will certainly prove useful someday.”
The one who had rescued him from among the rotting corpses in his childhood and sponsored him had said so.
And even on the occasions when he disobeyed that instruction, secretly threw it away, and buried it in the ground, this ornamental knife had always returned to his coat by morning.
As a child, he had thought it a cursed knife, but it was probably the Criminal Underworld Leader who had placed it back each time.
‘I’m not a sentimental person.’
His curiosity piqued, he had even investigated it, but it proved to be a truly unremarkable blade.
Just an ugly, crude.
A small dagger he couldn’t even sell for money.
In the end, he never could learn why the leader of the Criminal Underworld—whose age, true name, even gender and appearance he did not know—had told him to keep it.
Only, at this point, he judged there was no harm in following that advice, and so he had simply kept it, treating it as an artifact that had served its purpose.
…Perhaps, during all that time, a kind of homely attachment had formed. Who could say.
That was something no one would ever know.
“You’re here.”
The Second Prince indifferently tossed the ornamental knife he had been holding onto the tabletop and rose.
He must have been lost in thought for a long time, because he hadn’t even noticed the sound of someone entering.
Had it been an assassin, deprived of his weapons as he was at the moment, his life might well have ended. But—
“What were you thinking about?”
Fortunately, the other party was not someone who would end his life, but someone who might somehow keep it going.
Lion glanced momentarily at the knife, then set the meal down beside it as if it were nothing.
“Nothing in particu—”
The Second Prince began as usual, then paused, and opened his mouth again.
“I was briefly recalling something from the past.”
“I see.”
Lion did not react much.
He had known from the moment he walked in.
The Second Prince’s attitude had become markedly more favorable than before.
As Lion had instructed, there were no concealed weapons to be seen; he had apparently cleaned.
He had even disarmed himself completely, wearing indoor clothes instead of his usual outdoor attire.
His shoes and coat showed no sign of hidden weapons either.
“After all, eating in comfort really is best.”
Lion said nothing special and set out the food as usual.
“…There’s a bit less today.”
“Hm. I misjudged the portions a little.”
The truth was that he had given all the side dishes to his younger brother when feeding him, but he couldn’t well say that.
“Still, it shouldn’t be insufficient. Please, eat.”
Feigning indifference, Lion began the meal with the Second Prince.
The mealtime was no different than usual.
They ate in silence, and if the Prince had questions about the ingredients, Lion answered them.
That was all.
Even so, compared to the beginning, the Second Prince’s intensity had softened markedly.
He simply couldn’t treat the person who fed him harshly, it seemed.
But…
Glance.
Lion looked at the small ornamental knife still lying indifferently on one side of the table.
[Ornamental Dagger]
-It has never once been used.
‘I didn’t expect that to be sitting out in the open.’
He’d planned to handle matters quickly today and go soothe his younger brother, but…
He never dreamed that the decisive clue to lifting the curse would be set out like that.
Having finished eating, and after clearing the table, Lion slowly spoke.
“Is it because of that dagger that you recalled your past?”