Vice Commander Philip Meyer (Part 1)
"…Huh?"
Spiked with what? Could it be… poison?
Edwin turned sheet-white as he stared up at Philip.
"I am joking."
A heavy silence descended between them in the wake of the vice commander's inscrutable jest.
Writhing under the agonizingly awkward atmosphere, Edwin finally mustered his courage.
"U-Um, Sir Philip. Why did you help me earlier?"
It was a question that had lingered in his mind throughout the entire workout.
Philip glanced sidelong at Edwin before answering dryly.
"Your form was in disarray, so I merely corrected it."
It was an impeccably logical response.
Though feeling rather sheepish, Edwin managed a tentative smile.
"I-I see. Thank you! Thanks to you, Sir Philip, running felt so much easier than when I started."
Philip fixed his gaze upon the young prince as he offered his gratitude.
His expression was an impenetrable mask.
Is there something on my face?
Embarrassed, Edwin hastily rubbed both cheeks with his sleeve.
"…Your Highness is quite different from what I had envisioned."
Leaving behind that cryptic remark, Philip rose to his feet.
"Do not pay too much mind to whatever the Commander told you." He brushed the grass from his trousers and continued, "For all his bluster, he possesses a surprisingly childish streak."
Had he overheard the conversation with Jerome?
Edwin blinked in astonishment.
"Still, now that you have joined our drills, it would serve you best to apply yourself in earnest." Philip swept back his bangs and turned away, his sharp knight's gaze resting squarely upon the young prince. "Opportunities to train alongside the finest knights in the Empire do not come often."
"Y-Yes! I will do my absolute best!"
Edwin scrambled upright and nodded with fierce determination.
Watching him, Philip turned and strode toward the gathered knights. Upon the young vice commander's lips lingered a faint smile, so subtle that none could have noticed.
"Taken quite a liking to him, have you?"
The training had drawn to a close.
As Philip made his way back to the officers' quarters, a broad figure barred his path.
It was Jerome Krauner.
"Seeing as you went out of your way to help him, even after hearing everything I said to the brat."
Jerome was in a foul mood. It was humiliating enough that first the nanny and then the little prince had spurned him, but now his own vice commander had blatantly stepped in to aid the boy.
Whether oblivious or entirely indifferent to his superior's vexation, Philip merely replied in a flat voice, "Did you say something to him, Commander?"
"Why, you…!"
"I simply fulfilled my duty as a training instructor." Philip sighed softly before continuing, "Besides, why stoop to something so uncharacteristic of you, Commander?"
"Uncharacteristic of me?"
"Lashing out in frustration simply because things did not go your way is the behavior of a petulant child."
"Wh-What? A child?!" Jerome flushed crimson at the rebuke. "You little punk, just because I go easy on you—"
"I have served at your side for nearly a decade, Commander. Yet I cannot recall a single instance where you went easy on me."
"Ha!" Jerome let out a stunned, hollow laugh.
Philip maintained an unyielding, solemn gaze. "Regardless of how much this is for Prince Adrian's sake, using the Third Prince as a political shield is not the honorable path."
Jerome glared fiercely at his subordinate's self-righteous lecturing.
Philip Meyer, you stubborn, thick-headed blockhead.
Indeed, Gloria's vice commander had always been cut from this cloth. A fledgling barely twenty-eight years of age, yet possessed of an uncompromising sense of right and wrong—never crossing a line he drew, and never permitting another soul to step over it. In this decadent era, he was a true, upright knight, a breed growing rarer by the day.
Yet as righteousness so often did, Philip had a remarkable talent for driving people to utter exasperation.
"You always act as if you're the only man alive who knows what's right." Jerome clicked his tongue in irritation. "Tsk. Save your breath. I have already abandoned the thought."
He muttered under his breath, brushing a hand through his hair in vexation. "It isn't as though that brat is the only card I can play. The Third Prince—a scrawny runt who looks as if he's never tasted a proper meal—was never worth my notice to begin with!"
"Is that so."
"Yes! So starting tomorrow, I will bar him from ever setting foot on the training ground—"
"That may prove problematic." The vice commander cut him off smoothly. "I doubt you would care to go back on your own word, Commander."
"What?" Jerome arched an eyebrow. "What are you babbling about?"
"You excused yourself halfway through and missed it, but Prince Edwin kept pace with the entire regimen right to the very end."
"Do not feed me lies. Today's workload was demanding enough to make seasoned knights grovel—"
"Have I ever lied to you, Commander?"
Staring into the vice commander's unblinking, earnest eyes, Jerome found himself rendered entirely speechless.
"…Is that the truth?"
"It is."
Jerome had been entirely certain that the boy would collapse in exhaustion or surrender halfway through. That was precisely why he had sneered and dared him to try. Recalling the arrogant wager he had laid before the young prince, Jerome stood agape.
"Impossible! How could a scrawny little pony like him endure the entirety of that training?!"
"I find myself wondering the very same thing." Philip's eyes curved with rare amusement. "Which is precisely why I wish to observe him firsthand."
"Oho. And who was it that vehemently insisted we ought never let an imperial prince infiltrate our ranks?"
"And it was you, Commander, who boldly proclaimed you harbored no fear of the Second Empress."
Jerome's brow furrowed deep. "…You truly have taken a fancy to the Third Prince, haven't you."
"I will not deny it."
"Good grief. What fixation has seized you this time?" Jerome shook his head in disbelief at the unexpected predicament. After a long moment of contemplation, he finally threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, do whatever you please. I'm sick of looking at the runt anyway."
Jerome turned on his heel, marching back toward the training grounds. "Go assemble the men. If a frail prince could withstand that workout, my knights must still be bursting with energy. It's time for some sparring."
"…Understood."
It appeared today was bound to be a thoroughly miserable day for the Gloria Knights.
"Did something pleasant happen today, Your Highness?"
Ever since returning from the training grounds, Edwin had been giggling incessantly without any apparent reason. Even now, as I helped him change out of his sweat-stained clothes, that foolish grin remained plastered across his face.
"Mmm? A lot of things happened."
"Were they good things?"
Edwin seemed to ponder my question intently before nodding with enthusiasm. "Mhm, that's right! Wonderful things!"
"What manner of wonderful things?"
He gazed at me with a peculiar expression, then broke into a broad smirk.
"I met someone who resembles you."
What? Did he take a blow to the skull during practice? He sounded utterly unhinged.
"…Someone who resembles me?"
That hardly sounded like an occasion for celebration. Don't tell me he's getting pummeled over there?
"Yes. Someone who appears terribly cold and indifferent on the surface, but is actually an insufferable busybody deep down."
Was that supposed to be a compliment?
I glared quietly down at the snickering prince. It was somewhat grating to watch him tease me with such impish glee, yet it was undeniably far better than seeing him cower in dejection as he used to.
"…Is that the entirety of your good news?"
At my prompt, Edwin snapped his head back toward me. "No, there's more! Even though the training workload was doubled today, I finished every last bit of it!"
"Truly?"
"Yes! It was unimaginably agonizing! But I endured it and saw it through to the end! Impressive, isn't it?"
The boy practically wagged an invisible tail, begging for a pat on the head like an eager puppy.
"Yes. You did very well, Your Highness."
Yet even as I praised him, a sliver of suspicion took root in my mind.
Even if it were mere foundational conditioning, it should have been far too demanding for his current constitution.
This was only Edwin's second day participating in the knight order's drills. And yet he managed to endure immediately after the workload was doubled?
Could it be that he harbored an innate genius for martial pursuits?
"Your Highness. Look here."
"Huh?" His eyes darted to my clenched fist. "Wait, why are you making a fist all of a sud—"
"Dodge."
"What?"
Thwack—!
Contrary to my expectations, Edwin took my knuckle squarely on the bridge of his nose and instantly clutched his face.
"Aaaagh! My nose! That hurts! What was that for?!"
"Hmm. Guess not."
Normally, individuals with a latent talent for physical combat possessed sharp reflexive instincts. Yet Edwin had failed to evade even when given explicit advance warning.
Which means he is certainly no prodigy. Did he simply possess unusually stubborn stamina?
"What do you mean, 'guess not'?! Why did you strike me out of nowhere?!"
He flapped both arms indignantly, resembling an enraged sparrow.
"I explicitly instructed you to dodge, Your Highness."
"Eeeek! You really are…!"
I easily intercepted Edwin's wildly flailing fists, shoved him firmly into bed, and wrapped him tightly in his thick blanket.
"Hey! It's suffocating!"
"The temperature swings drastically between day and night of late. If you are careless, you may catch another fever, so you must sleep properly tucked under the covers."
Edwin blinked his round blue eyes in surprise. "Wait, are you worried about me?"
"You must attend training again tomorrow, so you must maintain your health."
"…Unbelievable. Coldhearted to the bone."
"What was that?"
"Nothing! You've ruined my good mood entirely!"
Why was he throwing a tantrum all of a sudden? He had been beaming like a fool just moments ago.
I stood watching the mound of blankets that Edwin had pulled entirely over his head.
"My apologies. I had no intention of souring Your Highness's spirits."
The lump of bedding wriggled petulantly, as though voicing a muffled protest.
"…Still, I am glad to hear that only good things occurred today."
This time, the blanket remained entirely still.
A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I observed his quiet capitulation.
"May you have a peaceful night."
Rustle.
Only after confirming that Rachel had stepped out of the bedchamber did Edwin cautiously poke his face out from beneath the duvet.
"Hmph. I'm not sleeping. Dummy Rachel."
Clutching the blanket tight against his chest, the young prince pouted.
— Still, I am glad to hear that only good things occurred today.
In truth, not everything that happened today had been good. He had simply held his tongue to spare her unnecessary worry.
Edwin remembered the veiled, menacing threats Jerome Krauner had leveled against him. Even now, the mere memory caused a cold shiver to run down his spine.
But…
Even if it was frightening, he felt as though he could bear it.
Staring up at the ornate ceiling, Edwin murmured softly to himself. Strangely enough, whenever terrible things occurred now, they didn't torment him nearly as much as they once did. Because he knew that once he returned to the Prince's Palace, there were people waiting for him with open arms.
"Yaaawn."
Emilia, Catherine, and Rachel.
Calling upon the faces of those three cherished figures, Edwin slowly closed his eyes. No longer forced to cry himself to sleep, the young prince's resting face was the very picture of tranquility.