First Impressions (2)
"I must say, I was deeply saddened to hear about the Crysa family, Tollin Crysa."
Snapped out of his reverie by the Second Prince's voice, the Young Duke of Fides blinked and quickly looked toward Tollin. Even the Young Duke knew that Tollin's eldest brother had been arrested under unfortunate circumstances. However, he had never seen anyone throw that painful topic directly in Tollin's face like this.
Tollin, however, maintained his smile without a single flicker of emotion crossing his face.
"I can only apologize for troubling Your Highness with my family's private affairs. Had I not severed ties with the Crysa family so long ago, I might have found a way to prevent it."
Watching Tollin draw a thick, unmistakable line between the Fides family and the Crysa family, the Second Prince offered a thin smile.
"Well, what's done is done. Fortunately, others have rolled up their sleeves to help."
Tollin's mouth parted slightly.
"Others, Your Highness?"
Leaving Tollin visibly stiffening at the sudden mention of unexpected players, Ditto continued smoothly.
"Duke Millio and several other nobles apparently felt a sense of responsibility. They stepped forward, wanting to apologize as fellow aristocrats for such a shameful incident."
Tollin had to use every ounce of his self-control to keep from grinding his teeth in front of the imperial family's second son. This was the Second Prince, known to be Rasiah Abaran's closest confidant. Tollin had expected him to be hostile, but he hadn't anticipated him bringing such a devastating bomb.
Duke Millio was the worthless scoundrel who had picked a fight during the last noble council. Tollin thought the man had been keeping quiet lately after having his secrets exposed, but it seemed he had been busy plotting behind the scenes. It was common practice to present various goods to the imperial palace, so Tollin found himself utterly pathetic for not paying closer attention when Millio sent a massive carriage to the capital. Once something crossed the palace gates, gathering information became nearly impossible. That was how this disaster had slipped through. But of all people, Duke Millio?
For the very people who excelled at bribery to claim they felt 'responsible' for a bribery scandal, only to offer even more bribes under the guise of an apology—it was a mockery of the highest order.
Why were they squeezing the Fides family so relentlessly? What did they stand to gain by crushing a house that had held its ground for so long? Destroying Fides, the shield that had protected the imperial family since the founding of the empire, would bring no benefit to them either. Even if the tyrannical First Prince had devised such a foolish scheme, the Emperor would never have allowed it to pass.
Watching Tollin ponder behind his smiling mask, Ditto Abaran chuckled with amusement.
"Some were quite anxious about a member of the Crysa family managing everything."
Ditto's long, slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk.
"And isn't that a perfectly reasonable doubt? Thus, the suggestion was made to share the burden among several parties."
"It sounds as though the easiest solution would be for the Fides family to step away entirely."
At Tollin's reply, the Second Prince widened his eyes in mock surprise.
"Oh, we can't have that. That would make the tragic sacrifice of the late Duke of Fides entirely meaningless. If everything falls into Duke Millio's hands, then the late Duke's death would be nothing but a dog's death, wouldn't it?"
This time, Tollin instinctively checked the Young Duke's expression. The poor child sat with a deathly pale face, his back held rigidly straight.
"The way you two care for each other... you look just like father and son. It's truly heartwarming."
He delivered the sarcasm as if it were a grand compliment. Ironically, the mockery snapped Tollin out of his anxious haze, turning his mind ice-cold.
"I am merely grateful for your kind words, Your Highness."
Tollin's voice returned to its smooth, polite register as he continued.
"Do as you wish with the capital's shelter. If it is your will, Your Highness, then there can be no wiser decision."
The Second Prince tilted his head. Letting out a soft, deflated sigh, he spoke in a bored tone.
"How disappointing. I fully expected you to beg me to hand the position to someone else."
As if that would make a difference. Tollin swallowed a bitter sneer. Unless they overthrew the empire, the Fides family was bound to dance to the imperial family's tune. The Crysa family, stripped of their honor and heir overnight, was living proof of that.
Had he been alone, he might have fought, but with the Young Duke to protect, the child's safety was always Tollin's absolute priority. When one had a clear goal, one could not afford to be picky about the means. If a threat could not be faced head-on, dodging it was a perfectly valid strategy. He had no intention of keeping the Young Duke in this wretched room a second longer.
"Thank you for taking the time to visit and offer your counsel. I hope we have not wasted your precious time."
There was no way the Second Prince could miss Tollin's polite plea for him to leave, yet Ditto showed no intention of ending the conversation.
"Oh, that's not the only reason I came."
And when Ditto's gaze shifted to the Young Duke, Tollin felt a cold dread sink into his stomach. Today was about to become a living nightmare.
"I also came to see our little Duke-in-waiting."
Meeting those eyes, which gleamed with a mixture of playfulness and sheer cruelty, the Young Duke froze like a mouse cornered by a viper.
"The late Duke and his deputy coddled you so much that I wondered if you were simple-minded, but it seems that's not the case."
"I..." The Young Duke's voice trembled. Knowing it was rude, he still had to clear his throat before continuing. "I still have much to learn, which is why everyone worries so."
"And what exactly do you think you lack?"
At the Second Prince's mocking question, the child hesitated for a moment.
"My tutors often tell me that when one is too young, one's eyes have not yet fully opened to the ways of the world."
Clever boy. At the child's sharp response, Ditto cast a brief glance at Tollin, who was watching their exchange with rigid tension. Beneath that tension, the Second Prince easily detected a faint trace of pride and affection for the boy.
A malicious glint flickered across Ditto's face.
"A smart child, just as I heard."
"Th-thank you."
"What a pity the late Duke won't be around to see you grow up."
"..."
When the Young Duke failed to respond, the Second Prince pressed him with a question that demanded a clear answer.
"Are you not saddened by your father's death, Young Duke?"
"That is..."
The child, who had managed to answer despite his stuttering, was suddenly struck dumb. Of course he was saddened. He was devastated, broken by his father's death. But he could not admit that—not in front of the Second Prince. To mourn his father's execution would be seen as defying the imperial family's judgment. It was a sentiment he could never voice before the Second Prince, who had certainly not come to the Fides estate out of goodwill.
Ditto kept his eyes locked on the child, waiting with cruel curiosity to see how he would wriggle out of it.
"It is, truly..."
He had to say he didn't care. He had to say it was nothing, that it was merely a rightful execution in accordance with imperial law. He tried to. Young as he was, the heir of Fides understood his duty. He knew that a single wrong word could seal the doom of his entire house. Yet, he knew with absolute certainty that if he uttered those words, he would never be able to cherish his father's memory in peace again. The guilt of his betrayal would haunt him every single time he closed his eyes.
The child turned his head toward his only ally in the room. Tollin was looking back at him with a surprisingly gentle expression. In that instant, he didn't know why Tollin's voice seemed to echo in his mind, telling him he could do whatever he wished. Nor did he know why his lips moved on their own.
"...I was deeply saddened."
A single, heavy tear rolled down the small child's cheek. At that exact moment, Ditto Abaran's expression turned utterly frigid.
"Oh, my heart aches. It seems I've made you cry."
The Second Prince spoke with exaggerated pity, looking at the Young Duke, who had buried his face in his hands as his tears began to flow uncontrollably.
"I do hope you cheer up. Let me teach you a game I quite enjoy."
At the calm, quiet voice—so different from the harsh scolding he had braced himself for—the Young Duke raised his tear-reddened eyes.
"It's wonderful for clearing away any lingering resentment when you're feeling down."
The Second Prince picked up his teacup and poured the cold tea onto the carpet with a soft splash. Behind him, his aging aide silently stepped back and took up a position a short distance from the table. Neither Tollin nor the Young Duke understood what was happening.
Crash! A split second later, the teacup flew through the air, narrowly grazing the aide's cheek before shattering against the fireplace. Only then did they realize what this 'game' truly entailed.
"Looks fun, doesn't it?"
"..."
Unable to look the Second Prince in the eye as he asked the question so casually, the Young Duke stared fixedly at the man's chest.
"No answer, I see."
The child's tears had long since dried. Faced with such senseless violence and abnormal behavior, the Young Duke's eyes trembled with sheer panic. He stole a glance at the aide, who stood perfectly still. Perhaps because the Second Prince had thrown the cup with such force, a trickle of crimson blood was running down the man's cheek where the porcelain had grazed him. Yet, he didn't even attempt to wipe it away, acting as though this were a daily routine. He simply stood there, silently accepting his role as a target.
"But lately, he barely reacts, so it's lost its charm."
Ditto Abaran's smile remained bright. "There's no sense of achievement even when I hit him."
After muttering those insane words, he stroked his chin as if pondering a solution, then turned toward Tollin with a sudden spark of inspiration.
"Tollin, you are the Young Duke's temporary guardian, aren't you? You should play along."
"Ah..."
A choked gasp escaped the Young Duke's throat. He knew exactly what the prince was suggesting. It was a horrific thought he desperately wished would remain a mere fantasy.
"Go on, stand over there next to him."
At the casual command, delivered as if he were merely telling Tollin to go for a light stroll, the Young Duke spoke up in a panic.
"Y-Your Highness!"
"What is it?"
Hearing the child's trembling voice, the Second Prince looked down at him coldly. "Are you worried it won't be fun?"
The child shook his head frantically. "N-No, that's not it."
"Then shall we switch roles? Do you think that would be more entertaining?"
The implicit threat—asking if he wanted to stand there himself—made the Young Duke flinch, but he was about to nod. He was terrified of being hit, but it was far better than watching Tollin become the target of those lightning-fast projectiles.
"No, Young Duke. Please, let me stand there."
"Tollin...!"
The Young Duke stared up at the back of Tollin's blue-haired head as the man stepped in front of him. Tollin must have felt the child's gaze, but he did not look back.
"Thank you for introducing such an entertaining game, Your Highness."
Bowing his head, Tollin walked over to stand beside the aide.
"Tollin, I'm fine."
The Young Duke desperately grabbed Tollin's hand with both of his.
"I am fine as well, my lord. It is far better than throwing a dish at my superior and dealing with the consequences afterward."
Offering a calm, reassuring smile, Tollin gently pried the child's small hands away and stepped back.
Once Tollin was in position, the Second Prince pressed the Young Duke's teacup into his hands, looking as though the real fun was finally about to begin.
"Now, throw it. You try to hit Tollin, and I'll try to hit my aide."
Watching the child clutch the teacup with violently trembling hands, the Second Prince tilted his head.
"If you think you'll miss, we can swap targets. A larger target is easier to hit, after all. Though, since I'm much stronger than you, Tollin might be in serious danger if I hit him. Ah, or perhaps you're worried about wasting the duchy's fine china? In that case, we can use this."
Ditto drew a dagger from his waist—one that looked several times more expensive than any porcelain plate. Watching the blade gleam, the Young Duke realized there was absolutely no escape.
"I-I will throw it at Tollin."
At the child's shuddering voice, the Second Prince's smile widened.
It was a living nightmare. He felt as though everything was his fault. It's because I gave the wrong answer. I brought this upon us.
Standing where the Second Prince had been, the child stared down at his own feet.
"Go on, throw it. You have to throw it with all your might for it to be fun. Don't worry, if you don't know how, I can teach you from the very beginning."
Though someone might die in the process, Ditto Abaran added, his voice dripping with uncontainable glee.
The Young Duke's heart hammered so violently that his ears rang. Please, please, someone help us. But there was no one here who could stop the Second Prince. Clinging to the impossible wish that someone would wake him from this nightmare, the Young Duke squeezed his eyes shut and slowly raised the cold piece of porcelain.
At that exact moment—