What Could Not Be Protected (2)
Hiss! Sscreeech—!
The cat thrashed with all its might, its small face twisted in sheer terror. Its entire body was already laced with shallow scratches and bruises—god only knew what kind of torment it had endured in the minutes before.
"Just you wait!"
The animal's agony was of no concern to the pack of boys gathered around it. Every last one of them was the scion of a noble house, raised without ever being taught the concept of mercy toward the weak. Having learned the intoxicant of power long before they learned basic morality, they were as cruel as they were ignorant.
"I'm definitely hitting it this time."
The orange-haired boy paused to take deliberate aim before hurling a stone with all his strength. His effort proved futile once more; the cat flailed desperately, causing the stone to whistle harmlessly past. Frustrated, the boy punched the empty air. "Agh! Dammit!"
Missing yet again seemed to make his temper boil over. He stomped over to the struggling animal and reached out to grab the rough cord binding it, but the frantic cat had no intention of submitting. As his hand drew near, it lashed out, sinking its claws across the boy's cheek with vicious fury.
"Tie it tighter, you idiot—aaaargh!"
"What happened?"
"Why, you filthy little mongrel—!"
Clutching the bleeding gouges on his face, the boy completely lost his mind to rage. Snatching the cat by the scruff, he reared back, ready to slam it down onto the stone pavement.
"Stop itttt—!"
A piercing scream shattered the air as Emilia came barreling out of the undergrowth. Fat tears pooled in the little princess's wide, luminous eyes.
"Leave the kitty alone, you mean villain!"
She threw her entire small weight against the boy's legs. Thrown completely off balance, he stumbled and flailed wildly. Seizing that momentary slip, the terrified cat wrenched itself free from his grip and vanished into the thick foliage.
"Stop it! Stop it right nowww—!"
"Agh, what the hell is this—?!"
The boys grimaced in sheer bewilderment at the sudden pint-sized whirlwind. Before anyone could react, Emilia had already sunk her teeth deep into the orange-haired boy's calf.
The surrounding youths exchanged annoyed, baffled glances.
"Where did she even come from?"
"She's just a toddler. Since when was there a baby like that wandering the palace?"
"Who knows? Looking at the silk on her, she's definitely not a servant's kid."
"Shouldn't someone help him?"
"Leave him be. If he can't even pry off a little brat, he deserves it."
Just then, a frigid, razor-sharp voice cut through the commotion from behind them.
"What is going on here?"
"Prince Lloyd!"
The boys instantly bowed their heads in unison toward the figure stepping out of the shadows. With coppery, tumbled curls and piercing blue eyes, the youth possessed striking aristocratic looks, yet the aura clinging to him was venomously cynical. His gaze seemed to look upon every living creature in the world as beneath his boots. His name was Lloyd Cataronian Ventrum—the Second Prince of the Ventrum Empire, and the only son of the Second Imperial Consort.
Prince Lloyd swept his cold, indifferent gaze over the gaggle of boys before his eyes narrowed on Emilia. "...And what, pray tell, is that?"
"Ah, well... she popped out of the bushes and ruined our sport, Your Highness. Judging by her finery, she doesn't appear to be a commoner, so we were just deliberating on how to deal with her."
"Hmph."
Lloyd began to turn away in boredom, but then he paused and looked back. His sharp eyes studied Emilia's tear-streaked face more closely. Gradually, the corners of his lips curled into an ugly, sneering arc.
"I wondered why she looked so familiar... She's the spitting image of that half-wit."
Lloyd snapped his fingers toward two burly youths flanking him.
"Fetch it here."
A foul, vicious delight suddenly danced in his bright blue eyes.
"It seems we have a far more amusing game to play."
Edwin's face was completely drained of color as he frantically scanned his surroundings. It had been pure fortune that an imperial guard stationed nearby had caught a fleeting glimpse of the direction Emilia had run off in; otherwise, he would still be wandering aimlessly, paralyzed with dread.
"Emilia! Emilia!"
Locating a five-year-old child in the sprawling, labyrinthine expanse of the Central Garden was a near-impossible task. He pushed through the thorny brush, heedless of the branches catching at his clothes. How long had he been tearing through the foliage?
"Waaahhh—!"
Not far off, Emilia's desperate wailing echoed through the trees.
Edwin's eyes went wide with panic.
"Emilia—!"
He broke into a desperate sprint toward the sound. But just as he was about to burst through the treeline into the clearing, a voice struck his ears.
"What are you waiting for? Shoot."
It was a voice both utterly detached and lethal as a drawn blade. Edwin knew that voice better than almost anyone. It belonged to the Second Prince, Lloyd—his older half-brother, his relentless childhood tormentor... and the primary culprit behind the death of Emma, the beloved nanny who had raised him.
Edwin's clenched fists shook violently.
It's all right. I'll protect you.
He had sworn those very words to Emilia just last night. He had promised that he would keep her safe.
Yet his boots felt rooted to the earth. His sister was sobbing right in front of him, yet his legs refused to move an inch. Only then did Edwin realize the humiliating truth: he was terrified. The specter of Lloyd was an insurmountable terror that had haunted his entire existence, powerful enough to freeze his desperate devotion to his sister in a single breath.
"Haa... haah..."
His breath came in jagged, ragged gasps. A sickening wave of self-loathing and fury crashed over him. Without realizing it, he had bitten down so hard on his own cheek that the sharp, metallic tang of blood flooded his mouth.
"Y-Your Highness... Even so, isn't this going a bit too far...?"
The boy hesitating was none other than Gale. He held a loaded crossbow in trembling hands, shifting his weight uneasily.
"Why?" Lloyd drawled from a plush garden chair lounging in the shade, his tone dripping with disdain. "What makes that pathetic little creature any different from the mangy cat earlier?"
"B-but... she's a human being, Your Highness."
"A human?" Lloyd scoffed under his breath. "One is only human if one functions as such."
"Uwaaahhh—! Let me downnn—!"
Lloyd cast an amused, mocking glance at Emilia, who was bound by the wrists and suspended from a high tree branch, kicking helplessly in midair.
"It can do nothing but shriek. To my eyes, that thing and the beast from earlier are identical."
"Y-Your Highness, surely this is—"
"If you lack the stomach for it, hand it over. I'll do it myself."
Rising languidly from his chair, Lloyd snatched the crossbow from Gale's faltering grip. His cold blue eyes flashed with sadistic venom.
"Quiet."
Without the slightest hesitation, Lloyd pulled the trigger.
Thwip—!
The iron bolt cleaved through the air, screaming straight toward Emilia's chest.
"Stop it—!"
Edwin threw himself forward into the clearing, launching his body into the air.
A single, agonizing split-second stretched into an eternity.
"Waaahhh!"
Edwin slowly cracked open his tightly shut eyes at the sound of his sister's terrified wails. Right beneath his nose was Emilia's chubby face. By some miracle, his precious little sister hadn't suffered a single scratch.
"Uwaaaahhh!"
Her renewed crying finally snapped Edwin back to reality. He glanced up at the frayed cord dangling above his head. The worn hemp rope, already strained by Emilia's weight, had snapped clean under the sudden momentum of Edwin tackling her into his arms. Because they had tumbled downward together, Lloyd's bolt had struck harmlessly into the bark of the trunk above.
Just as Edwin began to let out a breath of profound relief, a languid voice drifted down from above.
"Well, look who decided to crawl out."
A low chuckle followed. "Long time no see, little brother."
Edwin raised his head with agonizing slowness. Standing with the blinding afternoon sunlight at his back was his second elder brother, sporting the same sickening smirk Edwin had seen in his worst nightmares.
"...G-Greetings, Brother Lloyd."
"Yes, Edwin. Have you been keeping well?"
Behind the Second Prince, the cluster of noble boys burst into undisguised snickers.
"Look at him. Not an ounce of change from back then."
"Where would a penniless prince go, anyway? Scruff is scruff."
"If you didn't know better, you'd mistake him for a street beggar, not imperial blood. Did someone else shake him down for pocket change?"
Cruel mockery rained down on Edwin as he knelt in the dirt, covered in soil and leaves. The boy's pale cheeks burned bright crimson with searing humiliation.
"And what brings you all the way out here?" Lloyd asked, feigning innocent curiosity.
"I... I came to find my sister."
"Your sister? I wasn't aware you possessed such a thing." Lloyd raised an arched eyebrow before clapping his hands together in mock realization. "Ah! So that screeching little brat was your sister!"
He waved a dismissive hand with an exaggerated, theatrical roll of his eyes. "Here I thought she was a newborn kit dropped by that stray cat that slipped away. Their fur is practically the exact same color, after all."
Edwin pressed his palms hard into the dirt, his nails biting into the soil. Lloyd tracked every single imperial child with obsessive, malicious scrutiny; there was no earthly way he had been ignorant of Emilia's identity.
'Even before she is my little sister, Emilia is the sole princess of this entire empire.'
Edwin was accustomed to being treated like dirt beneath their boots, but Emilia—she should never, ever have had to endure such vile humiliation.
"My apologies," Lloyd said, extending a hand down toward him with an expression entirely devoid of remorse. "Since she is your sister, she is practically my sister as well. Forgive my terrible rudeness."
He tilted his head, his tone hardening into a faint reprimand. "Well? Aren't you going to stand up? A prince sprawling in the mud without a shred of dignity before common retainers is quite unsightly."
Edwin stared at the offered hand. Though pale, the skin was calloused and firm—the undeniable mark of rigorous sword training. For as long as Edwin could remember, the Second Prince had been hailed across the capital as a prodigy of the blade.
'...Unlike a useless failure like me.'
With dull resignation pooling in his chest, Edwin reached up. It was exceedingly rare for Lloyd to let him off with so little blood spilled. Whatever the cost, he had to take this chance, gather Emilia in his arms, and flee this place before the mood shifted.
Just as Edwin was about to grasp Lloyd's hand and pull himself upright—
"Oppa—! Punish that thing! That bad thing tied Lia up with a rope, told Lia he was gonna kill me, and tried to hit me!"
The little princess's furious, indignant wail shattered the silence of the garden.
The air instantly dropped below freezing.
Every trace of amused condescension vanished from Lloyd's features in an instant.
Edwin froze, his gaze locking onto his little sister in utter horror. The gaggle of noble youths clamped their mouths shut, eyes darting between one another in profound panic.
'Did she just dare call the Second Prince "that thing"...?'
It was an insult so suicidal that no sane soul in the empire would dare utter it even in their sleep.
In the suffocating silence, every pair of eyes remained glued to Lloyd's stony countenance. Finally, his lips parted.
"It appears my one and only little sister is terribly displeased with her second elder brother."
Surprisingly, Lloyd's tone was eerily calm. For a prince notorious for severing the limbs of any servant who so much as offered an improper glance, his reaction was unnervingly restrained.
He lifted a finger, gesturing toward a servant hovering in the rear.
"You there. Bring out the tea service. As a gesture of sincere apology, I must treat my dear little sister to a cup."
The trembling attendant hastened forward, setting out a delicate porcelain teacup filled with steaming amber liquid.
"Here. Take it. Consider it an offering of peace from your brother."
Lloyd extended the cup toward the child, his lips curving into a smile of exquisite, unadulterated malice.