The Bystander's Choice (1)
Mentil stared into my eyes with an expressionless face. If she wanted to verify the truth of my words, there wasn't much I could do. I didn't open my mouth either, quietly meeting her gaze. Her blue eyes held mine fast.
"Have you been keeping in touch with your mother all this time?"
I shook my head. She fell silent once more, studying me. She was probably thinking about the Seventh Prince's mother. Ran Abaran's mother was quite famous, after all.
The current Emperor had many children. I had over twenty half-siblings, so obviously we didn't all share the same mother. I knew he had quite a few concubines besides the Empress. The reason my mother was so famous was because she was the only woman who had ever fled the imperial palace.
The novel didn't offer any detailed descriptions of her. The Seventh Prince wasn't the protagonist, after all. In the original story, the woman who fled the imperial palace was only mentioned in passing conversations or used as ammunition to insult the Seventh Prince, never to be brought up again.
She was said to be the last remaining royalty of a foreign tribe, possessing the same black hair as Ran. Shortly after the Seventh Prince turned twelve, she vanished from the imperial palace forever. Some said she had returned to her homeland. However, most believed that out of shame and fear of giving birth to a half-baked, black-haired prince who possessed no Manis, she had abandoned her young son and fled.
Of course, if such rumors ever reached the Seventh Prince's ears, he would fly into a violent rage, so few dared to speak of it openly anymore. Well, except for bastards like the Eighth Prince who said whatever they pleased. At any rate, she was a character who didn't show so much as a single strand of hair until the very end of the novel. That was why I could use her as a convenient excuse with total peace of mind.
Crossing my arms, I slowly spoke to the princess, who was waiting for me to break the silence.
"For a month, every day around sunset, I watched a single hawk fly toward the east."
And? the princess's face seemed to ask.
"In the distant Eastern Country where my mother lived, they say that when a member of the royal family passes away, they summon one bird every day for a month."
The princess listened to my words with a detached expression. Since she didn't interrupt, I continued in the same flat tone.
"If a king or queen dies, they summon a peregrine falcon. If a prince or princess dies, they summon a black hawk."
Mentil merely continued to stare at me in silence.
"That was how I knew. That the last remaining princess of the east had, fortunately, laid down to rest in the east, and nowhere else."
Even after I finished speaking, silence hung heavy between us. Since I had nothing more to say unless she asked, I kept my mouth shut.
"The window..." She opened her mouth slightly, then swallowed. "...Did you look out the window every day?"
Well, I didn't know if the Seventh Prince had actually done that. Personally, I hoped he hadn't. Hiding my true thoughts, I replied.
"There happens to be a window by my bedside with a decent view of the outside."
My eyes just happened to wander there from time to time, I added. At my response, the First Princess fell silent again, briefly pressing her hand to her forehead. Then, she leaned back, sinking completely into the sofa.
"...I see. So... did your remaining blood relatives suddenly become precious to you?"
"Of course not." I let out a dry chuckle. "I simply realized that the only people left around me are those destined to outlive me."
"..." A long moment passed before the First Princess lowered her hand from her forehead and raised her head.
"You may leave now." She spoke to me with the same gentle smile she had worn at the beginning.
Relieved to finally escape this suffocating space, I gave a quick nod, stood up, and headed for the exit. Just before stepping out, however, I remembered my original purpose and had to turn back.
"I heard you took custody of my horse."
"Ah." As if only just remembering, she let out a soft exclamation and offered a bright, beaming smile. "They say it is resting very comfortably in the stables of the Seventh Prince's Palace. You have a remarkably clever horse."
Gritting my teeth, I bowed once more and stepped outside. The First Princess was truly someone from whom absolutely no good could come.
Leaving the tent, I grabbed the reins of the horse tied nearby and began to walk. A breeze swept past, carrying the scent of grass. Even though I was no longer inside the warm tent, the wind out here felt far less chilling than the atmosphere I had just left behind.
The First Princess probably didn't fully believe my story, but she wouldn't dismiss it as a complete lie either. She was the only one among the imperial family who placed any real weight on blood ties. Of course, she could also be infinitely cruel to anyone she deemed irrelevant.
What I had told her wasn't entirely a lie. While watching a black hawk fly by for a month was a fabrication, the funeral customs of the distant Eastern Country were very real. If I had lied about something like that, it would have been exposed in no time.
As for her question about whether I had looked out the window every day... I didn't know. Personally, I truly hoped the original Ran hadn't. I hoped that the books on foreign cultures tucked away in a corner of his study, and his stubborn insistence on placing his bed and chair right by the window, didn't carry any deep, tragic meaning... I really hoped so.
Puuu— Puuu— Puuu— The horn signaling the end of the hunting competition echoed through the forest. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I led my horse toward the altar. It was time to complete today's real mission.
The moment Tollin returned to the Duke's tent, he was sent straight to the waiting physician.
"Good heavens. You tripped over a rock while walking, and then managed to bash your head on yet another rock?"
Wearing an expression that suggested he was looking at the stupidest man alive, the physician examined the shape of Tollin's wound. Without asking further questions, he applied ointment and wrapped it in bandages.
"Next time you fall, why don't you take your anger out on the rock that tripped you? Give it a kick, or stomp on it."
Tollin offered an awkward laugh to the muttering middle-aged physician. Internally, he thought that if he had done that, it wouldn't be Tollin standing here, but only Tollin's severed head.
"Stay here. Jack and I will handle the closing ceremony of the hunt," the Duke said, looking at Tollin as his head was being bandaged.
"What? No, Your Grace. The treatment just looks dramatic, but it's really just a minor scratch."
"It's true that you'll be fine after taking medicine and resting for about a week, but calling my treatment 'dramatic' is a bit offensive," the physician grumbled. At this, the Duke's expression turned firm.
"A whole week of rest? That's a severe injury, a severe injury indeed. Now, lie down and get some sleep until the closing ceremony is over."
"Sleep? How can I sleep! Before this, no matter how hard I begged, you wouldn't give me a single day off!" Tollin protested as Duke Fidus physically forced him down onto the medical cot.
"Yes, yes. Let's call this a fair trade for all your past grievances."
"What kind of highway robbery is..."
"Tollin, even if it's a minor wound, you've lost some blood. Making a fuss like that will only cause dizziness."
"Ugh."
"See?" Just as the physician said, a sudden wave of lightheadedness hit Tollin, forcing him to clutch his head. The Duke patted his shoulder.
"Rest. Unless you want to make me feel even more guilty."
Meeting the heavy, solemn gaze hidden beneath the Duke's playful tone, Tollin understood his master's desire to keep him as far away from the Seventh Prince as possible. With a reluctant expression, he nodded.
"This counts as your vacation for next year too, so make sure to rest well!" The Duke cracked a ridiculous joke as he left the tent. Muttering to himself that it had better be a joke, Tollin settled his body onto the stiff cot. Soon, a deep slumber began to pull him under.
"Hey." Or rather, he would have fallen asleep, if a voice screaming in his head that he must never forget hadn't suddenly yanked his drifting consciousness back to reality.
Opening his eyes, he saw a pair of dark eyes looking down at him. Tollin immediately tried to sit up and show proper respect.
"Ah! Greetings, Your Highness the Seventh Pri— urgh!" However, a hand clamped down on his shoulder like a steel spring, pushing him right back down and forcing a strangled, choked sound from his throat as he hit the cot again.
"If you sit up so suddenly, the blood will rush to your head and make you dizzy."
"Y-Your Highness... what brings you..." Surely he hasn't come to completely smash my skull this time, Tollin thought, trembling. But the Seventh Prince spoke words he never expected.
"How is your head? It looks like you'll be fine after a week of rest."
"Yes... indeed. I am perfectly fine, Your Highness." Tollin was horrified by the chillingly precise estimation of his recovery time, but he did his best not to let it show.
...Don't tell me he throws rocks at passersby with a pre-calculated recovery time in mind? Like, 'this one gets a one-week injury, and that guy over there gets a three-week injury'?!
Showing no interest in whatever wild thoughts were racing through Tollin's mind, the Seventh Prince stared at him and spoke.
"Good. While you rest, have the physician prescribe you some antibiotics... no, olive leaves."
"Yes, yes, Your Highness." Tollin replied, finding it highly unexpected that a man who seemed far more accustomed to inflicting wounds than receiving them would know about remedies for injuries.
Tollin had no idea what the prince's goal was, but if this was meant to pressure him into keeping his mouth shut, it had already succeeded long ago. He wanted to beg the prince to just leave. The Seventh Prince was far more taciturn and expressionless than the rumors suggested, which only made him feel more uneasy.
"You are quite obedient." Recalling how the Seventh Prince had sarcastically called him "loyal" back in the forest, Tollin's expression stiffened. Was he mocking him again? Tollin stole a glance at the prince's face. Surprisingly, the prince was staring at the slightly parted entrance of the tent with an entirely blank expression.
"Well, let's leave it at that for today." At the sudden sound of the Seventh Prince's voice directed at him, Tollin flinched and quickly lowered his head again.
"You can start resting tomorrow. For now, you had better go watch the closing ceremony immediately."
"Right now?"
"Yes. Right now." Do I have to phrase it as an order for you to listen? the prince muttered. Tollin quickly replied.
"N-No, of course not! I will run there immediately."
The prince smirked, his lips curling up on one side, and turned to leave without a shred of lingering attachment. His behavior was so bizarre that Tollin spoke without thinking.
"Did you come all this way just to tell me that?"
Even as he asked, Tollin cursed himself for his reckless mouth. The Seventh Prince turned back, let out a soft chuckle, and picked up a roll of medical bandage from the table beside Tollin before heading toward the exit again.
"No, I came to get some bandages. Everywhere else was empty because everyone went to watch the closing ceremony."
Tollin couldn't comprehend the prince's bizarre behavior, but he couldn't disobey a direct command from royalty. He immediately left the tent and headed toward the altar. It would prove to be both the most regretted choice and the most fortunate decision of Tollin's thirty years of life.
As he drew closer to the altar, Tollin realized something was off. It was too quiet. There was no murmuring from the crowd, no cheers.
Pushing his way through the crowd, which was enveloped in an eerie silence, Tollin finally saw it: a blue sphere floating in the air, suspended over the dizzying depths of the cliff. And inside it...
"Your Grace!!!" Without a moment's thought, Tollin screamed and lunged forward, only to trip over someone's foot and crash face-first onto the ground.
Fortunately, his desperate cry seemed to reach the Duke. Agoni's gaze shifted toward the fallen Tollin. Those sharp gray eyes widened slightly upon spotting him, but they were quickly filled with a sense of relief and satisfaction.
Tollin had so many questions. What was happening? Why was he up there? Could he not come back down? But the words refused to form, leaving him only to gasp like a fish out of water.
Time was not merciful to Tollin. Soon, a cold, ruthless voice rang out.
"The summary execution of the sinner, Agoni Fidus, shall now be carried out."
In an instant, the water surrounding the Duke vanished. To Tollin, it felt as though time itself had slowed to a crawl. He watched the Duke's body plunge down the cliff, his eyes closing shut. When Tollin finally came to his senses, nothing remained. Not the Duke, not the gray eyes that had looked back at him—nothing.
Tollin collapsed, losing consciousness on the spot.