Raphael Orleans's Active Role (1)
“Brother…”
His simple words struck a chord deep in Pay’s heart.
Cassel was truly a good man.
“Come now. Rest easy. I’ve never had the chance to put you to sleep when you were a baby, so I’m glad I can do it today.”
“…Understood.”
Led by Cassel’s hand, Pay entered the quiet bedroom, shed only her outer garments, and lay down.
Comfortable… truly.
It had been a long time since she’d felt this way.
Just as he’d described, it was as though a fluffy white cloud floated above her head—leisurely and warm. She felt as if she’d gone on a picnic to a quiet meadow.
“Mmm…”
Pay drifted off within five minutes, her breathing soft and light.
Cassel’s face, as he gently stroked his sleeping sister’s forehead, was filled with emotion, pity, and a trace of joy.
At last, I’ve found you again. Tiana, my Tiana… I will never lose you again. I will protect you no matter what.
The prestige of the Klein heir? Authority? Wealth and glory? None of it matters. I will see your revenge fulfilled by any means necessary.
I will not close my eyes until I have cast them all into the flames!
He knelt beside the bed so as not to wake her, resting his cheek against the sheets as he gazed at her endlessly.
My poor, beloved little sister.
Eventually, he too slipped into a gentle sleep. The fury that had filled his chest gradually faded in the haze of dreams.
It was because he met the young Tiana in his dream.
The two of them returned to a spring meadow, a half-grown girl and a boy on the verge of joining the knights, running and playing to their hearts’ content.
“Cassel, Brother!”
“Tiana. I’ll become a knight and come back soon. Which do you like better, the Blue Rose Knights or the Crow Knights?”
Young Tiana bounced on her toes.
“Whichever one Brother joins!”
“Haha, I thought you’d say that. No matter which I enter, I’ll receive your handkerchief and take my oath.”
“Yes!”
It was so joyful that he never wanted to wake from that dream.
* * *
After seeing Pay off to the Magic Tower, Cassel found himself pondering a rather leisurely problem.
How should I get the Marquis of Huiante to drink the Portyan brew?
There were several ways.
At present, relations between the Huiante Marquisate and the Klein Ducal House were neither good nor bad. To be precise, they had grown somewhat distant after the clash between the Huiante and Orleans factions, but not so much that a meeting with the Marquis was impossible.
He had tested a few sips. The taste was not unpleasant, though not refined enough for a noble with a delicate palate. Still, he had finished an entire cup and more.
Does the Marquis… like sweet things?
As he sifted through information about the man, welcome news reached his ears.
“…Commander. Sir Raphael Orleans of the Crow Knights requests an audience.”
“Let him in.”
The moment Raphael entered the office, a faintly surprised expression crossed his face.
“Commander Klein, what’s the occasion? You let me in within a second. Has the sun risen in the south?”
“If you’d rather not, I can show you out.”
Cassel made as if to rise.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Our friendship… er, never mind.”
Raphael quickly took a seat, worried Cassel might actually send him away. Even so, when Cassel approached and sat across from him, Raphael instinctively reached for the olive branch in his coat. The sight of the underripe leaves fluttering made Cassel sigh. It was still early in the season.
Raphael was still Raphael, even after a year. That was simply his way, yet somehow it always drew a sigh.
“Haa.”
“Commander Cassel, if you keep wearing that sour face, the young ladies of the capital will be in tears.”
“I didn’t call you here for jokes.”
Raphael twirled the olive branch between his fingers a few times before quietly setting it on the table.
“I wonder how Lady Pay is faring at the Magic Tower. Now that she’s Lady Morgana, I was thinking of sending a letter to ask when she plans to begin her social activities.”
Cassel suddenly wondered if Raphael had designs on his sister.
Raphael Orleans.
While noblemen generally had more freedom in choosing when to marry, Raphael’s situation was different. He had no siblings, and few close male relatives. Sooner or later, he would have to settle the matter of an engagement or marriage.
The ancient Orleans Ducal House carried a curious bloodline that favored love matches. Perhaps Raphael was deliberately delaying things, insisting on marrying for love despite his family’s objections.
Raphael’s parents overcame fierce opposition to marry for love. Maybe that’s why the Duchess still holds such sway… Hmm, should I just ask outright?
Cassel made up his mind and looked Raphael straight in the eye.
Golden hair reminiscent of imperial lineage, deep blue eyes that were the very picture of noble beauty. His bearing was impeccable, and his skill as a knight was respectable. Yet the mere thought that he might be interested in Pay made Cassel’s fists clench.
Raphael had done nothing wrong. It was simply Cassel’s overprotectiveness.
“…Commander Cassel? Why do your eyes look so intense?”
“I distinctly told you not to approach Pay. Did you not hear me?”
Though he spoke as gently as possible, he could not stop the strength from flooding his already clenched fists. It was pure instinct—the urge to protect his fragile blood relative.
“Isn’t it a bit much to block me so thoroughly just because our first acquaintance was with you?”
Raphael grumbled timidly and leaned back into the sofa, keeping his distance. He figured Cassel wouldn’t actually throw a punch at someone who wasn’t sitting properly.
A brief silence fell. Cassel decided it was time to speak.
“By the way, Sir Raphael.”
“Hm?”
“Your house may appear reconciled with the Huiante faction on the surface, but in truth you’re still at each other’s throats. It seems about time to settle things properly.”
“As if it were that easy.”
Of course it wouldn’t be.
Cassel understood Raphael’s predicament all too well. Even he, the Klein heir, found it extremely difficult to mediate between his parents and himself, let alone between his parents and each other. He tried, but there was no guarantee of success.
No matter how precious an only son he was, changing the family’s stance with a single word was impossible.
“An imperial decree demands an end to the feud between your houses. How long do you intend to feign ignorance? If you keep fighting in secret and the violation of the decree comes to light, you’ll face punishment. Stop dragging your feet.”
“Do you have some clever plan, then?”
“This.”
This was why Cassel hadn’t offered tea or water when Raphael arrived. With a perfectly straight face, he poured the slightly yellowish Portyan brew into a cup and held it out.
Raphael let out a hollow laugh.
“Haha, to be served tea brewed by the Commander of the Blue Rose Knights himself. Is this a dream or reality…? Urgh!”
Raphael’s body jerked as he cheerfully accepted the cup and took a sip.
At that moment, Cassel issued a warning.
“Don’t spill a single drop.”
“I-Is this poison? It tastes awful! To openly drug someone is going too far! What did I do wrong?!”
Raphael’s voice echoed pitifully from inside the cup. Cassel, thinking the taste wasn’t that bad and that Raphael was simply overreacting, explained calmly.
“It’s an infusion of the herb we gathered at Fairy Lake.”
“Ugh! No wonder. It’s better than chewing the raw herb, but I thought I smelled that familiar earthy scent…”
Cassel chuckled.
“According to a certain talented herb-gathering mage, this water must be drunk lukewarm without honey or sugar for the full effect. If you understand, it would be healthier not to waste it and to drink it all, wouldn’t it?”
Raphael wailed from inside the cup.
“U-Ugh… I have no choice. If I throw away the medicinal water that Lady Pay so carefully dried and brewed, I’ll be punished… Urgh… Gulp…”
I was the one who dried and brewed it.
Cassel was displeased by the misunderstanding, but he kept his mouth shut. If he corrected it and Raphael spat everything out, cleaning up would be a nuisance. He was a man with at least that much flexibility.
When Raphael finally managed to set the empty cup down, his face was gloomy.
“I deliberately skipped breakfast, and now my appetite’s completely gone. That was a truly dreadful drink to have before a meal…”
“If you could finish it, the Marquis of Huiante should be able to manage as well.”
“The Marquis?”
Cassel spoke in a low voice, briefly explaining what needed to be done. Raphael’s expression brightened as he learned that drinking the Portyan brew would cure the Marquis’s illness.
“Oh ho, so that’s what this is about?”
“Mm. Or do you wish for the Marquis of Huiante to fall ill?”
Raphael spoke with great vigor.
“As a member of the Orleans Ducal House and a loyal subject who serves His Imperial Majesty and the imperial family, it is only right that I support reconciliation with the Huiante Marquisate! Of course I’ll take responsibility and kindly feed this incredibly foul medicinal water to the Marquis.”
His attitude was completely different from before.
Raphael looked genuinely delighted to have received the medicine for the Marquis. The fact that he was speaking seriously with Cassel without his usual playful grin was proof enough.
“Sir Raphael.”
“One cup doesn’t feel sufficient, so three cups over two days would be just right.”
Though he didn’t think the knight before him would go that far, Cassel spoke out of caution.
“It would be troublesome if you tied the Marquis down and forced it on him. The medicine is only to be given on the premise that the two houses are reconciling. If he mistakes it for poison, it could worsen a nonexistent illness. He obviously won’t drink something offered as ‘medicine’ out of the blue before he understands, so do you follow?”
“Oh, come now, surely not? I’ve thought of an excellent method, so trust me. Well then, here’s to the Marquis’s swift recovery! Cheers!”
Raphael snatched up the paper bag of dried Portyan Cassel had prepared and left without so much as a farewell.
Cassel gave a faint smile and spoke to the adjutant waiting outside.
“Come in and throw that olive branch away.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You may burn it.”
“…Understood.”
Merit was merit, and personal matters were personal.
A few days later, the Marquis of Huiante, who had been suffering frequent headaches of late, appeared from his carriage. His complexion was poor after another sleepless night.
“It’s been a while, Lord Orleans.”
“No…”
When Raphael saw the Marquis’s haggard face and wore a slightly troubled expression, the Marquis raised his voice.
“Spring has come and the weather is lovely, so seeing you like this is most welcome. Now then, let us settle our rivalry without delay. I’ve already warmed up at home.”
“It would be better to postpone the match for a few more days.”
Raphael took a step back, delivering the performance of his life.
The Marquis grew even more heated.
“What! Lord Orleans, do I look so lacking in vigor? Stop dawdling and bring the bow and arrows at once. I shall assist you in the upcoming grouse hunt!”
The Akan imperial family had banned hunting near the capital from late autumn through winter, gradually lifting the restrictions as spring arrived.
Among the hunts, grouse hunting—prized for its delicious meat and frequent appearance in the imperial hunting grounds—was especially popular.