What Could Not Be Protected (3)
"What are you doing? Take it at once."
Emilia glanced back and forth between the teacup and Lloyd with an open scowl.
Growing anxious, Edwin began coaxing her in a hushed, urgent voice.
"Emilia, Second Brother is apologizing to you. Take it, please."
"No!"
"Emilia! Hurry!"
"I don't wanna—!"
"Emilia—! Listen to me!"
"Ughhh!"
Emilia let out a petulant groan of sheer indignation. She despised this so-called second brother of hers from the bottom of her heart. He was the one who had ordered her strung up just moments ago, and he was the one who had loosed arrows at her.
Yet with Edwin pleading so frantically, she had little choice. Reluctantly, the young princess held out her small hand.
Watching her yield, Lloyd broke into an oily smirk.
"That's it. A gift should always be received by hand."
Splash—
Without warning, Lloyd tipped the teacup and dumped the tea straight over Emilia's bare hand.
"Waaaah—!"
"Emilia!"
Horrified, Edwin snatched her hand back and pulled her tightly against his chest. Fortunately, the liquid had cooled, sparing her tender skin from burns.
"Hahahaha!" Lloyd burst into mocking laughter at their terror. "Did you actually get scared? Did you think I’d truly bother harming such a worthless little brat?"
He was more than vile enough to do exactly that. The Lloyd whom Edwin knew possessed precisely that sort of cruel nature.
It's all right, it's all right. She isn't hurt. Emilia is safe.
As Edwin clung to his little sister, his breath coming in ragged gasps, something lukewarm came trickling down the crown of his head.
"Didn't I tell you? Stay out of my sight." Lloyd stood over him, holding the teapot upside down as dregs spilled across Edwin's hair. "I can never understand how scum like you possesses the same rights as an imperial prince like me."
Edwin—a wretched creature whose only redeeming trait was a pretty face. A half-brother with whom Lloyd shared nothing beyond the Emperor's blood.
And yet.
Lloyd knitted his brow in sudden irritation. Unbidden, the memory of an old nanny rose to mind—how that withered woman had raised her voice, throwing herself forward to shield that damned brat before Lloyd's very eyes.
I just don't get it.
What was so precious about a penniless stray, a scrap of dog fur without a single maternal relative left to support him? Why on earth had she protected trash like that?
Whenever he recalled the sight of Edwin weeping sorrowfully, wrapped in the embrace of that old nanny as she offered soft, tender comforts, a searing rage would boil up in Lloyd's chest. He couldn't fathom why, but it infuriated him to no end.
"This is my only warning. Remember it."
Lloyd tossed the empty teapot to a servant and turned on his heel. Yet he had barely taken two steps before—
"You meanie villain—! Apologize to my brother!"
Emilia had dashed forward and clamped her teeth onto his calf with all her might.
"Argh! You filthy little beggar—!"
Lloyd snapped. Losing all reason, he swung his other foot and viciously kicked Emilia off his leg.
The instant Edwin saw his little sister kicked across the grass, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. It felt as though a slender thread holding his sanity together had snapped clean through. At the same time, Emma's face flashed across his vision—the memory of her closing her eyes with a faint, peaceful smile.
Edwin unleashed a guttural roar and threw himself at Lloyd.
"Aaaaagh—!"
"Urk!"
In an instant, Edwin tackled the Second Prince to the ground, straddling his chest. He began raining down punches without aim or restraint. It was an outright brawl, vicious and desperate.
Tears streamed down Edwin's face as he shrieked at the top of his lungs.
"What did I ever do that was so wrong—?!"
"You little bastard—!"
"My sister didn't do anything wrong either! Why do you keep tormenting us—?! Why?!"
As if venting years of pent-up resentment and despair, Edwin's fists flew relentlessly. For a fleeting moment, he seemed to overpower Lloyd, despite his older brother standing nearly a head taller.
Yet that momentum could not last. Edwin was no match for a prince who had trained under master swordsmen since early childhood. Lloyd caught Edwin's wrist mid-swing, violently reversed their positions in a split second, and drove his fist into Edwin's face without an ounce of hesitation.
Blood welled at the corner of the Third Prince's split lip.
"Foolish wretch." Lloyd glared down at his brother with wild, manic eyes. "Fine. I'll teach you just how pathetic and incompetent you truly are."
Grabbing Edwin by the collar, Lloyd raised his right fist high into the air.
"Losing a tooth or two won't be enough to satisfy me."
Just as his fist was about to strike with bone-crushing force—
"Stop this."
Lloyd frowned, his wrist arrested mid-air.
The one blocking him was a woman he had never seen before. Judging by her attire, she was merely a maid employed somewhere in the palace. Yet she dared to bar the path of an imperial prince.
"Let—"
Irritated, Lloyd tried to wrench his arm free. Yet for some inexplicable reason, his wrist remained locked in place, utterly unyielding.
What is this? This strength?
A flash of bewilderment crossed his mind. Though young, he had trained rigorously for years, boasting martial strength far superior to that of his peers. He was by no means weak enough to be halted effortlessly by a frail maid.
Eyes wide with disbelief, Lloyd snarled, "What are you?! Do you have any idea who I am?!"
Yet the woman merely regarded him with frigid, impassive eyes, her grip around his wrist tightening like an iron vice.
"Princess Emilia! Good heavens—!"
Catherine shrieked at the sight of Emilia sprawled across the turf. Only after ensuring Catherine had gathered the little princess securely into her arms did I shift my gaze.
The Second Prince was glaring at me with eyes hot enough to tear me limb from limb. I took my time sizing him up.
The Second Prince, Lloyd Cataronian Ventrum.
Thanks to Catherine's earlier briefing, I recognized him the instant I laid eyes on him. He was the only child born between the reigning Emperor and the Second Imperial Consort, Helena Radcliffe. Perhaps because he had the backing of the Radcliffe Marquessate, the wealthiest house in the empire, he behaved as if the world answered to him, completely blind to consequence.
Aside from the hair and eye color, he doesn't resemble the Emperor at all.
Considering the Second Consort was renowned for her beauty, looking after his mother was probably a blessing for Lloyd. As I was mentally appraising his appearance, an uproar broke out in the distance.
"Your Highness—!"
Two knights, evidently the Second Prince's personal guards, came sprinting over. They had likely been standing lookout so no unwanted eyes witnessed the prince's sadistic amusements. The moment the lead knight saw me, he drew his blade.
"Insolent wench! Release him this instant! How dare you lay your hands upon His Highness?!"
The moment the knight finished shouting, I released Lloyd's wrist with a dismissive shove. He stumbled backward, staggering straight toward his oncoming guards.
"W-what insolence!"
"Your Highness, are you unharmed?!"
"You... you dare...!"
Ignoring the fuming Second Prince, I reached down and helped Edwin to his feet.
"Are you all right, Your Highness?"
"H-how...?"
Edwin stared at me with wide, bewildered rabbit eyes, clearly never expecting me to appear. He was in a dreadful state. Never mind his grass-stained and dirt-caked clothes; with his tear-streaked cheeks and split, bleeding lip, anyone passing by would have mistaken him for a street urchin rather than an imperial prince.
"Impudent creature! What are you standing there for?! Drop to your knees and beg His Highness for mercy at once!"
One of the guard knights barked at me, blade still leveled menacingly. To point a naked sword at an unarmed commoner—he clearly knew nothing of knightly honor.
Ah, then again, knights were always a shallow, posturing breed. Narrow-minded and underhanded to the bone.
Clicking my tongue inwardly, I maintained an unruffled expression and bowed my head in apparent deference.
"I beg your pardon. As the nanny to the Third Prince, I could not stand idly by while witnessing such a scene. Please forgive me."
"Ha! You utter the word forgiveness so lightly!"
Taken aback by how readily I offered an apology, the knight seemed momentarily flustered.
"A nanny?" Lloyd arched a brow, as if stumbling upon an amusing revelation. "Ah, so you're the nanny brought in to replace that insolent old hag?"
Instead of answering, I watched him in silence.
"How entertaining. The master is nothing but worthless dog fur, yet every nanny he gets acts so ridiculously presumptuous." He swept his gaze over me from head to toe, letting out a sneer of utter contempt. "Edwin, if you needed a dog to bark on your behalf, you should have picked one sturdier and cleverer. Not a brainless cur that doesn't know its place. If the first was an honest mistake, then the second..."
Lloyd shifted his sneer to Edwin, who stood trembling beside me.
"Must be the owner's deliberate intent, wouldn't you say?"
"B-brother..."
"Still, since I cannot punish the master directly, I suppose the hound must answer for the crime." With callous nonchalance, the Second Prince addressed the knight beside him. "A mere nanny dared lay hands on an imperial prince without permission, and went so far as to shove him. Her offense is grave. Cut off her hands for Lese-Majesty against Imperial Blood."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
At his lord's command, the knight stepped toward me without a shred of hesitation.
"Nanny!" Catherine cried out in horror from behind.
Yet the knight's stride did not falter in the slightest.
"No! Stop!"
Snapping back to his senses, Edwin desperately threw himself in front of the knight, but to no avail. Treating the Third Prince like an annoying insect, the guard shoved him aside with a single sweep of his arm and loomed over me.
"Now, give me your arm—"
Just as the man reached out to seize me, I dropped swiftly to the grass and gathered Edwin, who had tumbled from the knight's shove, into my arms.
"Insolence—!"
I bellowed at the top of my lungs, sending ripples of shock and confusion across the faces of everyone present.
"Prince Lloyd! A mere knight dared lay hands on an imperial prince without permission, and went so far as to shove him to the ground! His offense is severe! Sever his hands for Lese-Majesty against Imperial Blood!"
"Wh-what?!"
The knight jerked his head back, his face a portrait of sheer mortification. He looked back and forth between me and the fallen Edwin, utterly dumbfounded, before turning a blank, helpless gaze toward his young master, practically begging for an order.
Perfect.
Meanwhile, sensing a formidable presence drawing steadily closer, the corners of my lips curled into a smirk.
Just beyond the thicket behind us, fluttering in the breeze, the imperial standard of the Emperor was drawing near.