Daphne’s words were barely audible to Russell, who was muttering to himself as he stroked his grey beard.
“That slave, where did you get him?”
“From the slave market in Italian harbor.”
Italian harbor would certainly fit his theory.
It was to Italian’s neighboring kingdom, Osiria, that he had fled the palace when he had been exiled.
The chances that the man thought to be dead there had somehow survived, traveling from place to place as a prisoner of war, as a slave, and came to the attention of the Archduke.
“Do you know his name?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t call him Puffy. I don’t know if he can’t remember his name, or if he doesn’t want to say it, because he won’t open his mouth even if he’s about to die.”
As Daphne spoke so nonchalantly, Russell’s complexion darkened from yellow to green.
Russell was torn. Should he say this now or not?
Should he tell her when he was more certain, and if he did, would it make things worse?
No, you don’t. Nothing is certain, so let’s not make Daphne worry unnecessarily.
But it was still a nagging feeling.
After a few more words with Daphne, Russell left and made his way anxiously to the outbuilding where he was staying, but then he sighed heavily and turned around with a determined look on his face.
He walked quickly towards the dungeon where he had seen the man earlier.
There was no one here who didn’t know Russell, and no one who was suspicious of him, so the soldiers opened the door for him as soon as he said he was going to go down and check on the prisoner.
Descending the stairs, he waved off the soldiers and approached the cell with a torch.
Looking over the bars, the young man stood still and watched him with its back to him, as if he knew he would return.
The golden eyes shone brightly, even against the backdrop of the moon, and they were filled with divinity.
The story of someone who lived in the shadows, unseen by others.
The story of someone who knew, but was turned away, flickered in Russell’s mind.
“…Show yourself.”
And with that, the man who had been so hesitant a moment before slowly appeared in front of him.
As the torchlight began to reveal more of his features, Russell held back the urge to scream.
“Huh, ah, no, how on earth could you… Oh, my God, if His Majesty were to find out about this…!”
The man quickly grabbed Sir Russell by the scruff of the neck and yanked him closer to the bars.
It happened so fast that neither he nor the guards at the bars knew about it and froze in place, wide-eyed.
“You must pretend, Russell.”
“But, Prince!”
Puffy whispered so they wouldn’t hear. Just then, the his face broke into the most beautiful smile.
The guards rushed over and pried Puffy’s hand away from Russell’s grip on the bars.
“You son of a bitch, you know who he is and you’ve got him by the throat, let go of him now!”
As if that weren’t enough, the guard opened the cell door, ready to step on him.
“No, no, no! Stay back! I’m going to have a word with him, and I need you all to step outside for a moment.”
“Sir? Are you sure about that?”
“I’ll be responsible for everything that happens, so stand down.”
At Russell’s words, the guards quickly saluted and retreated into the distance.
“Rusell, it’s been a while.”
“No, Your Highness, you say it’s been a while…! What the hell is going on, not only were you missing, but the Empire will soon be officially declaring His Highness dead!”
There is another prince in the Manoir Empire besides the First Prince, Lucius de Manoir.
Like a shadow, he has kept his identity hidden. This second prince, Ethan Manoir, has been shunned by many.
The son of Madame Arnea, the Emperor’s mistress.
In fact, she was his mistress, and he loved her with all his heart.
He had been in love with her since before she was an empress, but their love had never been consummated due to an arranged marriage.
Coincidentally, in the same year that Ethan was born, Lucius was also born, and as fate would have it, they were born at the same time.
One was the son of the mistress and the other was the son of the empress.
From day one, their places were set, but trouble began when the Emperor brought the orphaned Ethan to the palace after Madame Arnea’s mysterious death.
The Empress, as well as the outside powers, viewed him as an eyesore.
It didn’t matter if he was penniless, for his beauty was dazzling, his physique was of the finest quality, and his character was beyond description.
He could not be seen without being idolized.
Of course, Lucius, the First Prince, was a man of many talents, but he was always second to Ethan when he was training or competing with the scholars.
But even as a child, the Empress and her vassals had been convinced that the son of a commoner could not succeed to the throne.
Until the Emperor proclaimed that Lucius and Ethan would share equal succession rights.
“I will pass the torch to the one who will make the empire most prosperous and peaceful. To a true soldier of fortune who loves his wife, the empire, and is capable of sacrifice. Henceforth, all the princes and princesses of this palace will have equal rights of succession. There will be no discrimination as to whose children they are.” hai
At this stubborn insistence, the empress and her vassals all protested.
What can we do? The emperor’s will was such.
“The other children are not a problem,” he said, “as they are all like my child. But Ethan is the problem. The son of a woman I don’t know where she came from, a woman whose face I don’t even recognize, is going to dethrone my son and take the imperial throne of this empire, and I’m not going to let that happen, not even in death. The next emperor of the empire is my son!”
Russell had closed his ears to so many stories during his time at the palace. Heard and not heard, seen and not seen. A life lived as a bystander, never swept up in anything.
It was cowardly, but it was the safest way.
Once, when a world-traveling preacher was invited by the Emperor to enter the palace, he looked back and forth between seven-year-old Lucius and Ethan.
Lucius would make the empire more prosperous than ever, but he would have the blood of countless people on his hands, and Ethan would be like a precarious rock that could fall over a cliff at any moment, without a supportive background.
He’ll never blossom, he’ll never bloom.
But if he survives, he will bring peace and prosperity to the empire.
After this, the monk’s whereabouts were unknown. Perhaps he went on a pilgrimage.
This must have been intolerable for the Empress because from that day on, the Emperor began to treat them both as equals.
From the time Ethan was a child to his adulthood, the Empress had used every trick in the book to keep him out of society.
That wasn’t all. The Empress had made things difficult for him by spreading unflattering rumors about him.
It was Ethan himself who added weight to the rumors.
He was afraid of people and hated to be seen in public. Whenever he went out in a crowd, he always wore a mask to embarrass the emperor.
People said he was hiding his face because he had a very large scar on his face, or because he was ugly enough to frighten people, but no one had ever seen the real Second Emperor.
The Empress had isolated him so thoroughly that he had no one on his side, and she used her power to ensure that the Emperor was never made aware of his existence.
The Empress had somehow managed to force Ethan to live in the shadows.
The Empress and her relatives were busy recruiting influential vassals like Russell.
By this time, the Emperor had fallen gravely ill, and as he grew increasingly ill and began to spend more and more days in bed, no one dared to oppose her.
“If Prince Lucius is worthy of being the heir to the empire, and even of being emperor, he will win that place for himself without my encouragement. What is it that makes you so anxious, Empress?”
The Empress did not answer Russell’s question.
Why she did not answer is probably known to all.
Prince Lucius was capable. When it came to academics, he knew academics, when it came to martial arts, he knew martial arts, when it came to beauty, he knew beauty. Nothing was left to chance.
But he was naturally cruel. If he were to become emperor, as the tribunes said, he would shed the blood of countless people for the prosperity of the empire.
He had the qualities of a tyrant, his manner of dealing with people, his anger, his cruelty in every way is unchildlike.
Ethan, on the other hand, was mild-mannered, and despite being labeled a child of the mistress, had developed a large following within the palace.It was Ethan who would be the next Emperor, if only by birthright.
More than anything, the Emperor loved Ethan for his hair, which was the same color as Arnea’s blonde.
In any case, Madame Arnea was the woman the Emperor truly loved, and the Empress was merely a marriage of convenience for the good of the family.
The Emperor clearly believed that the Empress was involved in Arnea’s death, as his relationship with her had grown more strained since her death.
All the more reason for the Emperor to favor Ethan.
