The Anguish of a Bystander (2)
There was no conversation between the two as they crossed the small game area to return to the starting point. A cool breeze brushed between the Duke and Tollin. Tollin hesitated, staring down at the back of the Duke's head as the man walked in grim silence. It was Duke Fides who finally broke the heavy silence.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, of course! It wasn't even that hard of a blow. See?"
Tollin shook his head side to side to reassure his awkward superior. However, a sudden throb of pain forced him to clutch his forehead again. Watching this, the Duke's eyes darkened further.
"I'm serious. I heard that in a foreign land far to the east, stones sometimes fall from the sky and leave massive craters. Maybe the stone that hit me was one of those. Looking at it that way, aren't I lucky? I was struck by a stone from the heavens, and instead of a hole in my head, I only got a scratch."
The Duke merely nodded with a blank expression, watching Tollin's pitiful attempt at bravado. Seeing that reaction made Tollin feel even more uncomfortable, so he slowly nudged his horse forward. It also felt wrong that he, and not the Duke, was riding the only remaining horse. Since they couldn't leave the Seventh Prince to walk back, the Duke had given him his own horse. Two grown men couldn't ride a single horse together. As a result, Tollin was riding while the Duke walked.
Tollin had insisted on walking, even if it meant getting hit by another stone, but the Duke had threatened to jump into the lake with his bag of rocks if Tollin didn't get on the horse. Left with no choice, Tollin had mounted. Both of them knew it was best not to speak of the Seventh Prince anymore, so they chose their words carefully.
"...But what will you do now? You didn't catch anything. It looks like you missed the golden fox as well."
Tollin asked the Duke, hoping to divert their minds from the day's events.
"Well, I suppose I'll just have to listen to people call me a washed-up old man," the Duke replied with a chuckle.
"Oh dear. Now everyone else will be calling you what I've been calling you."
"I knew you were thinking it."
The two walked on, sharing light banter. As if nothing had happened today. As if no injustice or pain had ever occurred. Tollin had been struck by a stone for no reason, but the moment he realized the culprit was the Seventh Prince, he abandoned any hope of retribution. Knowing that protesting against royalty was futile, he decided to bury the incident. He resolved to clear his mind, making it as light as their current conversation. He believed the Duke would do the same. After all, the superior he had known for over a decade was a man who could never even conceive of defying an imperial order.
But contrary to Tollin's assumptions, the Duke's mind was far from empty. It was entirely consumed by the voice of the Seventh Prince.
The Seventh Prince's mocking voice still rang clearly in his ears. That was once the very future the Duke had desired most. For his son, the Young Duke, to succeed him and become a proud sword of the empire. For the House of Fides to pass down that duty from generation to generation.
The sneering voice echoed in his ears once more. Can I bear to watch that? The Duke could no longer dare to answer that question. He merely forced himself to take one heavy step after another, telling himself that the swamp-like weight dragging him down was solely due to the bag of stones slung over his shoulder.
As I neared the old stone tower where the tents were clustered, the participants who had returned early and those waiting in the staging area glanced at me. I was used to people staring, but the atmosphere felt strange. Everyone was busy avoiding my gaze the moment our eyes met, so I couldn't figure out what was going on. By the way, where did my horse go? Did it really head back to the stables on its own? If so, I was thinking of starving it for dinner as punishment for being too clever.
"Greetings, Seventh Prince." Two knights in gold-trimmed armor approached and bowed. Were they from the Imperial Guard?
"What is it?"
"Her Highness, the First Princess, is looking for you."
The First Princess. She was my eldest sister, the one who had made the Eighth Prince throw a fit during the last ritual. Well, it wasn't like that kid wasn't terrified of every single one of his siblings besides me. In any case, she was someone I had absolutely nothing to gain from meeting face-to-face. I pulled the reins tight and spoke.
"I've sweated too much from hunting. I cannot present myself to Her Highness in this state. Tell her I will visit her later."
The younger-looking of the two knights glanced subtly at my empty saddle, but the other quickly nudged him in the ribs with an elbow to stop him.
"...Our apologies, Your Highness. Her Highness mentioned that she is currently holding the horse you cherish. She warned that if you do not come now, she cannot guarantee what will happen to it..."
"Fine. Lead the way." I dismounted, cursing inwardly. Relieved by my compliance, they guided me toward a lavish white tent. If word got out that I had lost the horse gifted to me by the Fourth Prince, there was no telling how that ill-tempered prince would react. It was better to deal with someone I could actually talk to. Besides, I had to get the horse back. I had hoped to avoid the First Princess for as long as possible—ideally until I left the imperial palace—but I had no choice. And as for that audacious horse, once I got it back, I'd make sure it saw a slaughterhouse being built right next to its stable.
The imperial family was, in truth, a collection of people one should avoid at all costs throughout their entire life. To say nothing of the Emperor, every single royal, including my siblings, were individuals you shouldn't even look at out of the corner of your eye. And among them, the First Princess ranked near the very top of the danger list.
"You've arrived." Servants parted the entrance of a tent made of leather so flawlessly white it must have been nearly impossible to source. Seated on a brown sofa in the center, the First Princess greeted me. Mentil Abaran, the beautiful princess with long, cascading wheat-colored hair, smiled warmly and gestured for me to take a seat on the chair beside her sofa.
"Greetings, First Princess." When I chose to bow in greeting instead of sitting down immediately, she let out a soft hum and leaned back comfortably against the sofa.
"Save the stiff formalities. Are we not flesh and blood? We should be comfortable around each other."
"I find stiff formalities and a proper distance to be the most comfortable, Princess."
"Hahaha, I didn't know my little brother was such an inflexible person." She giggled, clapping her hands. I stood there in silence, watching her.
"Well, most of our other siblings are rather hot-tempered, so it's nice to have someone like a steadfast rock around."
"I am grateful you see it that way." Since I was still standing as I answered, she gestured toward the chair again.
"I think it would be best if you sat down."
"I am fine—"
"My arm is getting tired." She spoke with the same smile, but I knew this was an ultimatum I couldn't refuse. I sat down on the surprisingly plush chair, forced to meet her gaze as her eyes tenaciously tracked my every movement.
After a brief standoff, the princess spoke, her characteristic gentle smile returning. "So..." A fleeting mix of playfulness, wariness, and cruelty flashed in her eyes. A stray gust of cool wind slipped into the warm tent, brushing against the back of my neck. Or perhaps I only imagined it, unable to distinguish it from the goosebumps that erupted at her next words.
"What sudden change of heart has made my little brother turn into an entirely different person?"
The sharp question pierced right through me. This was exactly why I had wanted to avoid the First Princess. In the novel Dark Header, only a select few are born with Manis. These abilities always manifest in forms related to nature. The Emperor controls fire, while the First Prince wields water. In a way, the First Princess's ability could be described as reigning at the very pinnacle of nature.
"It's not something that can be brushed off as a mere personality shift, is it? You might not realize it, but I know you better than you know yourself."
The First Princess's Manis was 'Human'. She manipulated the minds and hearts of people. And this was the very reason Duke Fides could never break free of his own shell.
I had to stay calm. Ever since I transmigrated into this novel, I had known that someone would eventually notice the discrepancy. Given the nature of her ability, I had expected the First Princess to be the first to find out. Fortunately, I was an avid reader who had read the novel over a hundred times, and I knew Mentil Abaran better than anyone else did. I even knew the conditions required to prevent her ability from activating. She claimed to know me better than I knew myself, but well, not anymore. There was a twenty-eight-year-old man living inside Ran Abaran's body, and she had no idea.
I let out a soft sigh and met her eyes. The First Princess was still looking at me with that gentle smile plastered on her face.
"Choose your words carefully. It would make your life rather difficult if I had to turn all of your servants into mindless simpletons, wouldn't it?"
How chilling. Yet, strangely, it helped dissolve the last remnants of my tension. I took a moment to compose myself before slowly opening my mouth.
"...My mother passed away."
Of course, I had no idea where the Seventh Prince's mother actually was. Watching the corners of her mouth stiffen, I offered a silent, sincere apology to Ran Abaran's mother, who might be living perfectly fine somewhere out there. Come to think of it, the very fact that Princess Mentil had summoned me to ask questions proved that her ability wasn't working on me. If it were, she would have simply manipulated me to get the answers she wanted. She had likely noticed something was off because she realized her power no longer held sway over me. In the original novel, the Seventh Prince was often swayed by Mentil's ability, moving exactly as she desired.
So, what kind of people could escape the First Princess's hellish ability? In the novel, those immune to her power had to satisfy two conditions. First, they must share her bloodline. Since my body belonged to Ran Abaran, this condition was met. Second, they must feel familial love, not romantic love, toward Mentil Abaran. The problem lay with this second condition. There was absolutely no way I would ever feel romantic love for her, but familial love was even more out of the question. How could I feel familial love—something I had never even felt toward my own biological parents—for a woman I was meeting for only the second time? Still, the reason she couldn't manipulate my mind remained a mystery. I could only assume it had something to do with me being a transmigrator.
In this situation, there was only one thing for me to do: make her believe that I felt familial love for her so she would accept the situation. I knew that her habitual remarks about family staying close weren't just empty words.