Brothers of the Full Moon
"I heard word came from Carrington. What did they say? I trust he's doing well?"
As ever, the man's first words were about Bayul. Despite wearing an outer coat, his hair was thoroughly soaked through. The unlit fireplace bothered the Duke more than a little, though he'd only just noticed it.
"Aren't you cold?"
"I'm quite all right."
Pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing away the damp roughly, Liam took his seat.
"The weather's turned sharp."
Despite his younger brother's protests, the Duke called for Cunning the butler and ordered him to light the fire. Perhaps a hint had been given in advance, for a servant appeared at once and began stacking kindling, and soon after, a warm cup of ginger tea was set between the two brothers.
"Drink it before it goes cold."
"You should have some too, brother."
"And here you are, worrying about me?"
To anyone unacquainted with the pair, the scene would have seemed truly strange. The one being called 'brother' was, at most, in his mid-twenties, while the one calling him that looked to be well past forty. It seemed less a bond between elder brother and younger than one between father and son.
But the elder was Duke Randert himself. Few in all the Empire could claim not to know him, and so no one would find his current appearance strange at all.
Duke Baseris von Randert, past fifty yet retaining the youthful vigor of a man in his twenties.
And Viscount Liamdeniz von Randert, Baseris's one and only younger brother, who held the title of viscount.
Unlike his elder brother, he lacked an appearance that transcended age, but he was every bit as strikingly handsome in his own right. The two seemed utterly different and yet remarkably alike.
Such was the case with the charisma with which the pair held the Empire's ministers in thrall, and such was the case with the deep blue eyes that seemed to hold the very depths of the ocean.
The difference lay in bearing: where the Duke carried a heavy, quiet gravity, his younger brother Liam was supple and suffused with warmth.
Their hair, too, set them in contrast — silver and gold. Baseris took after their mother with his silver hair, while Liam bore the sandy blond of their father.
Cold and warmth.
The warrior and the statesman.
Their contrast had always been a favorite topic of gossip in the imperial court.
"If not me, then who would look after you, brother? You really mustn't overestimate yourself. Push too hard, and something may truly give way."
"Are you cursing me now?"
"Heavens, no. I only speak out of concern."
"I know. It was a jest."
The Duke smiled faintly and lifted his teacup.
"And — thank you."
"...Pardon?"
At the unexpected thanks, Liam looked up just as he was about to sip his ginger tea.
"The lodging you arranged for him."
"Ah, that. That much was only natural, brother."
"It was something I hadn't thought of. I sent the boy off in such a hurry that..."
"He'll manage fine. Frail as he is, he's a clever one, isn't he? In some ways, he's even sharper than Bail."
"......!"
The Duke's shoulders flinched. It was the first time he had heard his son's name spoken aloud in an age, and the unchanging ache clamped down on his heart.
"Oh — forgive me. I let something slip that I shouldn't have..."
It was a matter he was always careful about, but worry for Bayul had made him careless. To have struck at his brother's deepest wound — he could hardly bear to meet the man's eyes.
"...No."
As if sensing his brother's remorse, the Duke spoke first.
"I hear Bayul is doing well. It seems his life at the Academy has gotten off to a smooth start."
"Does he? And his health? How is his condition?"
Liam fretted, afraid the boy might have collapsed again in the meantime.
"Nothing was said on that front. Father Juan gave him a full examination before he left, so what mishap could possibly befall him for a while yet? Ian will see to him well enough on his own. Worry over your nephew can wait — spend that time looking after your wife and children instead."
Married Liam had three children — two sons and a daughter. The eldest daughter had already married into another house, his son was helping Liam tend the family domain, and the youngest was in the thick of her bridal lessons.
"If you say such things, brother, it wounds me. Bayul is my only nephew. Do you know how difficult it was for him to grow up, so frail from childhood? The mere thought of that boy tears my heart to pieces."
"Liam..."
"Bayul is as good as my own son, I tell you. Do you understand?"
He understood it all too well — and that was precisely the problem. Liam had gone to such lengths on his behalf, covering for a brother who was both clumsy at family matters and endlessly occupied. How could he not be grateful?
But the devotion was excessive, and the Duke worried that somewhere along the way, it might wound his sister-in-law or the children's feelings.
"Which is exactly why I've come to say this. We must increase Bayul's escort."
"You, too, with this talk? Ian is more than enough as an escort, so think nothing of it."
"I know Ian's skill as well as anyone. But one man cannot handle everything alone. You must also consider the possibility that he may need to leave his post."
Liam's tone turned grave.
"I've already selected candidates. I've instructed them to remain at Bayul's residence alongside Ian and to guard him only when he leaves the Academy grounds."
"You carry it out on your own authority first and ask permission after — what exactly are you playing at?"
"...Are you angry with me?"
"I'm not."
"I apologize for acting unilaterally, but it happens that the eldest son of House Hector has enrolled in Bayul's year. He's a notorious troublemaker."
"A troublemaker?"
The Duke's brow furrowed sharply.
"Yes. Riding on Duke Hector's influence, the boy reportedly plays dangerous pranks without a moment's hesitation. I couldn't help but worry he might do Bayul harm..."
"Children's tricks, at worst. What great catastrophe could come of it?"
"I can only hope you're right."
But an escort knight is non-negotiable.
The resolve in Liam's eyes as he met his brother's gaze squarely was fierce indeed. In the end, it was the Duke who yielded. As he sighed and told his brother to do as he pleased, a rare smile spread across Liam's lips.
"Oh, that's right, brother. Have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"His Majesty is taking a third wife."
"...Surely not?"
"Yes. The daughter of Marquis Voytek."
"So Duke Hector has been at work behind the scenes."
Duke Hector and Marquis Voytek were bound as in-laws. The Marquis's eldest son had married the Duke's second daughter, and the couple already had two sons.
At a ball held at the imperial palace last month, the Emperor had crossed paths with the Marquis's daughter and fallen for her at first sight. He was a man of wisdom and discernment in all things — with the single flaw of his weakness for women.
Only just come of age, the Marquis's daughter was already famed throughout the Empire as a great beauty. And it was her father, Marquis Voytek, together with Duke Hector, who had deliberately engineered her path to the Emperor's side.
The Emperor, who had lost his first Empress to illness and known loneliness, had found no pillar of support in his second. Their union had produced only a single princess.
The Empire's prince remained, as yet, one man alone — Crown Prince Lindemann, firstborn of the late Empress.
But if the Marquis's daughter rose to consort and bore an imperial prince?
Barely a dozen years had passed since the end of the Ten-Year War. The winds of blood must not be allowed to blow again.
"Brother — Crown Prince Lindemann's position may be in jeopardy."
Premature as it was, it was possible.
"I must depart for the imperial capital tomorrow. Make your preparations as well."
Any trace of the father anxious over his son had vanished from that place. True to his legend as the hero who saved the nation, the Duke's face had already reverted to its native, glacial composure.
Chapter 2. Innocent
"Good morning!"
Professor Rotheus strode into the lecture hall with a bright greeting, and every student's eyes went round — Bayul's included.
"Professor, this is our Ga Kingdom language class right now?"
At one student's remark, Bayul found himself nodding before he knew it. By his own timetable, history was a second-period class.
"I think you may have the wrong lecture hall, Professor."
"You haven't gotten lost, have you?"
"Shall we walk you there?"
"You rascals! Do I look like I've got dementia to you?"
Trading banter for the children's teasing jokes, Professor Rotheus stepped up to the lectern.
"Professor Vans's father-in-law passed away last night. He'll be away for several days, so I ask for your understanding. He's sent word that he'll make up the missed lessons as soon as he returns."
"So today's class is self-study, then?"
"As if."
The corners of Professor Rotheus's mouth curled into a sly smile, and something in his eyes glinted wickedly. Sure enough.
"You think I hauled this massive book all the way here for nothing?"
"No — he wouldn't...!"
Winking one eye, Professor Rotheus heaved the book down with a mighty thud.
"Did you lot seriously expect me to let you 'self-study'? I've had my first good night's sleep in ages, so today we're doing a history review!"
"No way!"
"That's impossible!"
Laments and jeers erupted from every corner of the room. It was the first class of an already grueling Monday — and just when they'd been handed the sweet, golden gift of self-study, this bolt from the blue? The injustice of it was beyond bearing.
"You won't need your textbooks. Just listen closely and remember it with your heads."
"Waaah, Professor! What kind of rule is this? My timetable doesn't have history today, I'm telling you!"
"He's right, neither does mine! And it's not like listening to this gets us out of the next class!"
"Of course it doesn't! Today I simply had some time to spare, so I'm performing a service for you all. Volunteer work! You know how those things always come up unannounced, don't you?"
We never asked for your service!
That was what the majority of the faces in the room were saying.
"My, my? Those are some remarkably rebellious expressions."
"......"
"Heh heh. You see, I was actually planning to teach you something very important today? Material that'll be on the exam, in fact. But looking at you lot, I've decided it's no use. I'll scrap the whole thing."
"...The exam?"
"You'd better study your history like your lives depend on it. I'm making it brutally hard!"
"Professor!"
Eli flung his hand into the air and bellowed.
"I am fully prepared for class!"
"Oh?"
"Yes! We were shortsighted, Professor. Bestow your wisdom upon these ignorant students!"
"That's right, isn't it? You were rather ignorant, weren't you?"
"We were, Professor — ignorantly so!"
Professor Rotheus gazed upon his fervently nodding students with deeply satisfied eyes.
So exams are frightening after all.
Bayul straightened his back and adjusted his posture as well.
"Now then — today's topic."
The Ten-Year War.
Surprisingly tidy handwriting for a man with such an unkempt head of hair.
"I imagine no one here needs an introduction to the Ten-Year War?"
he asked, sweeping his gaze across the lecture hall.