The Blood Prince
With the knighting ceremony concluded without incident, a banquet celebrating the appointment of the new royal knights began in the great hall of the royal palace.
As the royal orchestra played elegant, old-world melodies, the kingdom’s most distinguished nobles and influential figures gathered as one to enjoy the festivities—a sight not often witnessed.
“Congratulations, Lady Valentine. Your father will be so proud.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you remember me, by any chance? We met briefly at your fifteenth birthday celebration.”
“Ah, yes. You’re from House Filton, the Viscount’s family, aren’t you?”
Countless people approached Milia with their congratulations, and each time she offered the same polished, formal replies. One greeting ended only for the next to begin. Nearly dozens of well-wishers passed before her, yet she never once let a hint of fatigue show.
After several dozen minutes, when the crowd’s attention finally drifted away, Milia carefully slipped through the throng. She made for a quiet corner of the banquet hall, out of sight—specifically, the shadowed space behind one of the great pillars.
“Haaah… I’m exhausted…”
Afraid of being spotted, she checked her surroundings, then leaned against the pillar with a weary sigh.
“You’ve worked hard.”
Schwarz held out a glass of water. Milia took it, drained the contents in a single gulp, and handed the empty glass back with a satisfied puha!
“I feel human again… This is exactly why I hate banquets.”
“I know the feeling well.”
Schwarz, who had never cared for crowded places himself, could understand her perfectly.
“I want to run away right now.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, if you don’t mind…”
If the two of them—the evening’s central figures—were to slip out of the banquet unnoticed, Bernus’s wrath would fall on both of them as surely as the sun rose. Even Schwarz, who rarely flinched at anything, had no desire to face that particular storm.
“I’m joking. Just joking. Even I wouldn’t actually do something like that.”
“Mmm…”
It felt about half-serious, though…
Schwarz let out a low, thoughtful hum.
“You just thought it was half-serious, didn’t you?”
“Ugh…!?”
Milia asked with a playful smile, and Schwarz flinched as he looked at her.
“How did you know?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? After all the time we’ve spent together?”
“Well… fair enough.”
Fourteen years. They had been side by side since childhood; reading each other’s thoughts from a single glance was second nature by now.
And so, while Schwarz and Milia traded lighthearted banter and soft laughter behind the pillar—
“There you are.”
“…?”
A familiar voice sounded behind them. They turned to find a girl standing there in a magnificent party gown. Her blue hair and eyes marked her royal blood; her fair, flawless skin was so perfect it almost seemed carved from marble.
“Your Highness.”
Milia bowed respectfully to Elis Nella Elianos, princess of the Elianos Kingdom.
“It’s been a while, Milia. Not since the Academy graduation party, has it?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
With so many eyes upon them, Milia answered in a more formal tone than usual. Elis understood and took no offense.
“Schwarz as well—it’s good to see you. Have you been well?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I have been quite well.”
“First, congratulations are in order. To both of you. Becoming a royal knight is no small achievement.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
They bowed as Elis offered her brief congratulations.
“I’m relieved you’re both safe. Especially you, Schwarz—I heard you injured your arm. Is it all right now?”
“As you can see, perfectly fine.”
Schwarz flexed the fully healed arm for her. Magic had helped, of course, but his recovery owed far more to a dragon’s superhuman vitality—something Elis could not possibly know.
“I’m so glad. I was worried when I heard you’d been hurt.”
Elis exhaled in relief.
“It was nothing serious. To have troubled Your Highness over so minor a wound is embarrassing.”
“Please take better care of yourselves. You are both invaluable—to the kingdom, and to me.”
“I understand, Your Highness.”
Schwarz bowed once more. And then—
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Elis.”
“…!!”
An unfamiliar voice made Elis flinch. She slowly turned toward the sound.
“Hmm… and interesting guests as well, I see.”
The speaker’s gaze settled on Milia and Schwarz with open curiosity.
A moment later—
“Brother…”
Elis spoke the word as she faced the man before her.
Schwarz had never put much stock in physiognomy. Yet in this moment, he felt he could believe in it completely.
Thug.
That was the impression Rayvan der Elianos gave him at first glance. Sharp features, a solid build, and an array of gaudy ornaments that screamed ostentation. Blue hair parted in the middle and swept back; beneath it, eyes the deep crimson of blood—true to his infamous nickname, the Blood Prince.
Tan the skin a little and dye the hair blond, and he would have been the walking stereotype of a street tough. Yet a certain regal presence still clung to him—no doubt the blood of royalty at work.
Schwarz regarded the crown prince before him.
Rayvan der Elianos. First Prince of the Elianos Kingdom, and the man most likely to ascend the throne upon the death of the current king, Alfons.
“What brings you here, Brother…?”
“How cold. You make it sound as though I have no right to be here.”
Rayvan answered Elis’s careful question with a tone of mock hurt—though the emotion in his voice was anything but.
Fearing they might be caught in the crossfire, the surrounding nobles began edging away. It was only natural. Everyone present knew what became of those who crossed Rayvan—Elis herself being the rare exception.
“That’s…”
“Never mind. I have no interest in dull affairs like this anyway.”
Elis opened her mouth to reply, but Rayvan cut her off and turned his attention to Milia and Schwarz.
“Hmm…”
“We greet His Highness the Crown Prince.”
At Rayvan’s low hum, Milia bowed. Making an enemy of him here would serve no purpose. He was the kingdom’s crown prince; deference was the only wise course.
“Hmm… I feel as though I’ve seen you somewhere before…”
Ignoring her greeting entirely, Rayvan narrowed his eyes and muttered to himself. Milia’s eyelid twitched, but fortunately he did not notice.
“Ah! Those eyes! Now I remember! You’re from House Valentine, the Count’s family!”
After a moment’s thought, Rayvan exclaimed as if the memory had just struck him.
“Yes. I am Milia Valentine, daughter of Count Valentine.”
“Oh-ho… how unexpected.”
He narrowed his eyes further as she bowed again. Under that gaze Milia felt as though insects were crawling over her skin, yet she kept her head lowered and her expression carefully blank.
And as for Schwarz—
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
He repeated the word for patience a hundred times over in his heart. Even royalty were bound by basic courtesy. Rayvan had not only ignored Milia’s greeting; he was looking her over as though she were an object on display. Had the man not been a prince, Schwarz would have been sorely tempted to put a fist through that irritating face.
“Brother. That is quite enough.”
Elis stepped forward, placing herself between them.
“Oh? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I believe you understand perfectly well without my saying it.”
Rayvan’s smile turned unpleasant. Elis met it with a stony expression. The air felt like a lit fuse; the entire hall held its breath.
“You’ve grown bold, Elis. To speak to me that way.”
“And you, Brother, seem exactly the same as ever.”
A carefully veiled way of saying Grow up already. In this place, at this moment, only she could have dared.
“You dare…!!”
Rayvan’s face flushed with anger as he stepped toward her. Gasps rippled through the onlookers. The situation teetered on the edge of violence—
“Is something the matter?”
A calm voice broke the silence, drawing every eye.
“You…!!”
Rayvan’s breath caught at the sight of the man before him.
“It has been some time, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Bernus Valentine, head of House Valentine, inclined his head toward Rayvan with measured courtesy.