Bond of Silence
Bond of Silence
The dancing of a clown whose mask had been stripped off was not particularly pleasant to look at.
Yet, its sheer desperation possessed something from which one could not tear their eyes away.
Not all the boys shared the exact same sentiment. Even if they were nobles of similar age, what they had experienced differed. They could not all see and feel the exact same thing.
Nevertheless, a single emotion pierced through them all.
Every single child present in this place admired that young Emperor to a point that bordered on fear.
Julian stopped swinging his sword like a madman. Unconsciously, he had sensed that the atmosphere had turned strange.
The children were all staring at him. Each had a different expression on their face, yet every single pair of eyes was wide with shock.
Having swung his sword for a long while and whipped himself for just as long, he finally regained a threadlike sliver of reason.
The pain radiating from his hands. The droplets scattered around him, now mixed with sand and turned black. The wooden sword, its tip already split from how fiercely he had struck down.
Even as he looked at the training ground, which vividly revealed the aftermath of what he had wrought, Julian had not yet felt a great sense of crisis.
His reason gradually cleared like fog lifting, but he felt somewhat detached, as if floating in the air.
Swallowing a heavy, stifled breath, Julian raised the hand not holding the wooden sword, tapped his chest lightly once, and pressed it directly over his heart.
Suddenly, when Julian raised his head and looked around, the children—excluding Agravain, who had been standing haphazardly until a moment ago—were standing in aligned formation, wooden swords held in one hand.
Because the children had known nothing at first, when they first came here, they had looked at Julian with feelings of contempt and disgust.
But the moment they learned the truth, the children's feelings transformed from disgust to respect.
Before Julian's massive, silent scream, they came to realize what kind of existence the Emperor truly was.
They came to realize what kind of fight he had been waging.
Soon, that respect...
Became loyalty.
"..."
Just as Julian had done, the children lowered their wooden swords, cast their eyes downward, and very slowly raised their left hands to press them against the left side of their chests—right where their hearts beat wildly.
Neither kneeling nor prostrating. A 'salute of loyalty' unique to the children, found nowhere in court etiquette.
No one opened their mouth. Yet that silence was more than enough to fill the entire training ground.
Only rough breaths resounded within the grounds.
Ten years.
A miserable yet brilliant loyalty, obtained for the very first time in his life by the Emperor who had desired nothing more than to survive, cut off from the world within an Imperial Palace pooled with blood.
Julian's shoulders went rigid.
It felt as though his knees would buckle.
No.
A voice like a scream echoed inside his head. He had to yell at them to stop this instant.
He couldn't leave them like this. If a report of this situation reached Maximilian, all his acting up to now would go up in smoke.
Not only Julian, but every single child present here was in danger.
Yet he could not open his mouth.
Suppressed emotions surged all the way up to his throat. He intuitively knew that the moment he opened his mouth, what burst out wouldn't be his usual act, but a sob akin to vomiting blood.
He held in his hand the weight of other people's lives for the very first time. That weight spread from his palms to his arms, and from his arms to his chest.
And there was someone watching this from start to finish.
He was neither holding a wooden sword nor bowing his head. Yet his grey pupils were trembling uncontrollably.
Agravain, the only boy not holding a sword, felt as though he alone was detached from the world. Right now, this training ground had become a sanctuary of their own that tolerated the interference of no one else.
Agravain looked at Julian with trembling eyes. Looking at the children who were still pledging their loyalty to him, Julian no longer wore the expression of a broken clay doll from a moment ago, but an expression that looked as if he was on the verge of tears.
Agravain clenched his fist tightly. A single hot drop of something flowed into his heart as well.
Finally, the time had come to put an end to this eternity-like moment.
"...Stop."
It was a small voice. Completely different from Julian's voice up until now, the voice that emerged after swallowing his feelings again and again was so frail it seemed ready to break at any moment, like a winter branch.
"Stop it. That is enough now."
Yet it also possessed a firmness like the roots of a giant tree.
"Today's training... play is finished. Return."
Calmly, yet certainly. A low, heavy sound shook the silence inside the training ground.
Putting the wooden sword back into the rack, Julian turned around without a word.
And before anyone could take a step, he walked toward the door with faltering steps and disappeared outside alone.
Heading out of the training ground, Julian moved without even glancing at the escort knights waiting in front of the door.
"I shall return. I am in no mood to play today... Let us go to my quarters."
"We obey your command, Your Majesty."
A somber appearance and a gloomy expression. The young Emperor had finally ended his denial of reality and come to his senses. Thinking thus, the escort knights followed Julian to his quarters.
The training ground Julian had left was still quiet. The children quietly put away their wooden swords, then looked at one another without anyone having to say a word.
Meanwhile, the first to speak was Kei, the youngest son of Baron Kinirhil.
"I don't think it even needs to be said. But everyone knows, right?"
At those words, the children nodded.
"What we saw today, we speak of to no one. Even if it's our parents."
Bigalois added to Kei's words.
"Nothing happened today. It was just like usual. Right?"
The children exchanged glances with one another.
And then they turned their heads to look at the only boy who couldn't join them.
Flinch. Agravain's shoulders jerked up.
Eleven people, twenty-two eyes stared intently at Agravain. The wary gazes faltered the moment they met his expression.
Seeing that expression and realizing something, all the children approached Agravain near the door.
Agravain took a step back without realizing it, but his back was already blocked by the wall.
Unbothered by such things, the children narrowed the distance.
"..."
Just as Agravain closed his eyes and braced himself, thump, a heavy touch landed on Agravain's shoulder.
"...?"
When Agravain opened his eyes and looked toward his shoulder, Kei was standing there.
Kei kept his hand on Agravain's shoulder, said nothing, gave a slight nod, and then opened the door and walked out.
Afterward, all the other children patted Agravain on the shoulder just like Kei before passing by.
The empty training ground after everyone had left. Left all alone, Agravain quietly held the shoulder the children had patted.
At the warmth spreading from that spot, he could say nothing.
Leaving the training ground, Agravain slowly made his way to the place he always went to.
Although there had been no instruction to stop by after play today, there was still an hour left before the mourning bell rang.
Because Agravain had been told that at times like this one must report all the more diligently, he knocked on the office door, only to be startled by the voice that answered.
"Enter."
When Agravain carefully opened the door and stepped inside, Maximilian's adjutant who should have been there was nowhere to be seen, and Maximilian himself was present.
He wore none of his usual flamboyant accessories, but instead wore a lusterless black court mourning suit, a black hat, and a black crepe band wrapped around it.
Agravain felt a momentary sense of strangeness at that sight.
Right before coming to the Imperial Palace, he had heard his parents say, 'We must make a court mourning suit by tomorrow.' He had seen them looking for black ceremonial robes in place of the mourning clothes that weren't ready yet.
Desperately ignoring a certain sacrilegious thought that flashed through his head, Agravain immediately bowed his head toward Maximilian.
"G-Greetings to Your Excellency the Lord Protector!"
"Enough of that."
Stopping Agravain, who was about to kneel, with a single phrase, Maximilian set aside his steaming teacup and stared at Agravain with cold eyes.
"So, speak."
It felt as though a freezing cold awl was being driven into his heart, which had been warm just a moment ago.
Agravain's eyes swam in midair for a moment.
In his mind flashed the images of Julian desperately swinging his sword and the children with their hands placed over their hearts.
Agravain paused briefly, then opened his mouth.
"...Today as well, nothing happened, just like usual."
He said.
"Even though the children saw His Majesty, instead of paying the proper etiquette they should have, they dared not to hide their disrespectful demeanor."
Curiously, his lips did not tremble.
"...His Majesty did not hide his gloomy demeanor partway through, and when the children did nothing, he returned to his quarters."
"Is that so."
Hearing Agravain's report, Maximilian gave a faint nod.
"Very well. You may go now."
"Yes, Your Excellency. I shall take my leave."
Agravain placed his hand over his chest, bowed lightly, and stepped backward several paces before finally turning around.
The instant he placed his hand on the doorknob and attempted to open the door, a voice called out from behind Agravain.
"Come to think of it."
The hand atop the doorknob froze. Agravain turned around slowly, hiding that sign as best he could.
"I have sent your mourning clothes to the Manusdura Count's residence. Wear them when the mourning bell tolls."
"...It is an honor, Your Excellency. I deeply thank you for your generosity."
Maximilian said nothing. Only then did Agravain open the door and step outside.
When the door closed, only silence hung over the hallway. Only the lingering remnant of the cold gaze focused on his back just now hung for a long time in the soundless stillness.
Agravain hastened his steps toward the residence.
'What on earth did I just do?' His mind was in complete disarray.
He had lied. He had done something he must never do.
He hadn't reported what he saw as it was. He had deceived the Lord Protector. That Lord Protector!
At first, there was a slight feeling of satisfaction. But gradually, anxiety and fear began to consume his entire body.
If he were caught... what would happen if he were caught? His body wouldn't stop trembling.
Because of that, he tried to escape this place right away, but before long, his steps gradually slowed.
Agravain had seen it. That scene at the training ground.
That was why he couldn't help but think.
Even if, right now, he was a powerless Emperor and they were young children with nothing...
"...Just once."
Couldn't he trust His Majesty just this once?
His murmur drifted into the spring wind and vanished.
There was no one who heard those words.
And one week later.
"...In the end, it has come to this."
Leonius glared at a bird sitting on the window sill of his carriage. A letter tube was tied to its leg.
Mikanabis. A magical beast possessing absurd speed, capable of covering a distance that would take a full two months by land—from the southernmost tip to the Imperial Capital—in a single day.
There were only two places in the empire that used this magical beast as a carrier pigeon.
One was the Imperial Palace, and the other was the Southern Sea Grand Duchy.
"...Do they intend to start a war?"
Whether those words were addressed to the sender of the letter or to someone else was something no one present could know.
Leonius let out a small sigh. Tucking the received letter into his chest, he took out a fresh sheet of paper.
Writing a response devoid of any embellishment, he inserted it into the letter tube attached to the Mikanabis's ankle.
Ppiik, with such a sound, the Mikanabis detached itself from the carriage window and flew off, disappearing from sight in the blink of an eye.
A speed that could only be tracked by the eyes of a Sword Master like Leonius.
Murmuring that it was a relief such a magical beast possessed no aggressiveness, Leonius turned his eyes back to look at the Imperial Castle, which was now visible right before his eyes.
"It is not time yet. You had best endure."
Leonius muttered to himself.
One week since the death of Semele von Aurelian.
At a time when a whole week still remained until the official funeral.
Eastern Margrave Leonius von Chrysoricos arrived at the Imperial Capital.