Episode 47
***
In the middle of the night, the Second Prince’s palace.
Click.
Argen, hidden under the blanket, turned on his exploration lamp.
As the light, like a lighthouse in the vast sea, lit up, the breath he had been holding burst out.
“…Where did I leave off?”
Rustle, rustle.
Argen fumbled under the pillow and pulled out a few sheets of paper.
Pages torn carelessly from a book.
They were so worn at the corners from repeated handling.
‘If I memorize all of this today, starting tomorrow I’ll move on to Advanced Swordsmanship Theory and Ancient History.’
Pretending to read picture books in the imperial library while secretly taking books scheduled for disposal had become a familiar routine.
After all, no one paid much attention to Argen.
‘That kid was strange.’
Argen slid the pages down onto his chest.
Even after cutting her hand like that, she didn’t seem to be in pain?
‘Didn’t she swing outside the window, then suddenly grab my clothes…’
And that wasn’t all.
In the end, she even asked to hold hands.
Of course, Argen truly didn’t like physical contact with others. It was more like he simply wasn’t used to the warmth of others.
Above all, holding hands was really…
Argen turned around quickly under the blanket.
‘It’s a sign of weakness. Only children who rely on others go around holding hands.’
He lifted the pages again and thought to himself.
He could become strong on his own.
“Where’s His Highness?”
At that moment, Argen held his breath at the sound of the servants’ voices.
“He ate dinner and even had a snack, so he’ll be out cold until tomorrow’s lunch.”
“True. Hey, isn’t that lamp oil from His Highness’s bedroom?”
“He’s out cold anyway. What does he need a lamp for? I’m taking it for my room, dumbass.”
One of the men snickered, patting his belly playfully.
“Ah, seriously, we really feasted today~”
“You told the prince, right?”
“Yeah. Told him that because his grades were bad, he could only eat dry bread and soup.”
“Heh. Well, his grades are bad, so it’s not a complete lie.”
‘The theory of aura manifestation.’
Argen shut his eyes tightly, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing, and silently recited the book’s contents.
At some point, the servants had begun subtly switching his meals with theirs. When they went undiscovered for too long, their behavior became bolder.
They even spread rumors that the prince was being picky about his meals, causing the Ministry of Internal Affairs to send more ingredients and dishes.
Argen chewed the tough bread and watery soup slowly, thinking that as long as it wasn’t poisoned, he didn’t care what it was.
Meals were nothing more or less than a way to stave off hunger, and if he complained, he was certain the servants would find some way to retaliate.
“Ah, this stuff is strangely addictive, though.”
“What is?”
“Skimming off the prince’s budget. It’s nice to line my pockets, sure? But this mouth! This mouth is happy every day!”
The servants chuckled as they walked away.
Argen refocused on memorization.
‘If well-controlled mana is channeled into the sword body, aura can be manifested. The range and power vary depending on each individual’s abilities.’
It’s okay.
I’m fine.
I’m not scared, not lonely, not sad.
‘Shall I memorize the next line.’
It’s okay.
Even if I’m alone, I’m okay.
Once the sound of the servants’ footsteps completely faded, Argen slowly opened his eyes.
With a blank expression, the boy clicked the exploration lamp on again.
“It really was a good idea to revisit the toy store today.”
The jellies he’d found in the turtle-shaped bag came to mind.
If that smart child had eaten them…
‘It could’ve been a disaster.’
The handmade jellies made by the servants.
Even knowing they contained trace amounts of poison, Argen ate them without a word.
They caused slow poisoning but weren’t enough to kill.
The Empress believed she could suppress Argen’s magic with such poison.
And indeed, the innate magic Argen was born with had nearly vanished.
The Emperor looked visibly disappointed, but from that point on, the Empress’s covert schemes decreased.
Perhaps it was because she became certain that Argen would never become the Crown Prince.
After Argen started pretending to be a fool, the poisoning of his meals also stopped.
‘I can’t report this to His Majesty without evidence of where the poison is coming from. And His Majesty… is also the one who abandoned my mother.’
More of a ruler than a father.
Argen clutched the pages tightly.
There was no breakwater to shield him from the storm closing in.
A boy left all alone could only curl up and wait for the storm to pass.
Hold your breath, wait for the right time.
That was how a boy with an empty heart survived.
***
Ch.4
A secret salon prepared in a discreet building.
Kalec inhaled lightly as he stepped inside.
The sharp, smoky scent of herbs pricked at his nose.
“It’s been a while, Your Excellency.”
The owner bowed politely.
Behind the translucent curtains, soft piano and violin melodies flowed.
“I’m tired. I’ll rest quietly.”
“Yes. I’ll cancel all reservations for today.”
Kalec sank into his exclusive sofa.
As he rubbed the corners of his eyes, the fatigue he had set aside came rushing in all at once.
“I’ve prepared your usual.”
A maid brought over the finest brandy and glanced suggestively at the duke.
The long, half-lidded eyes and silvery hair with its subtle hues.
The gleam of smooth skin under the dim lighting and his strong body leaning sideways.
Even knowing it was impolite, one couldn’t help but look at his perfectly handsome face.
Truly, he deserved the title of the Empire’s most perfect man.
‘Feels like it’s been a while since I came here.’
Kalec, however, thought indifferently.
This was a private salon where the empire’s noblemen enjoyed pipes and brandy.
Here, he combined various herbs for his pipe, drank the empire’s most expensive liquor, played cards with noble heirs, and exchanged trivial gossip to relieve stress—if he felt like it.
At twenty-two, Kalec loved this space.
He appreciated that only nobles of a certain rank could enter, and most of all, that apart from the gentle music, there was no loud noise.
To elaborate, Kalec Wintervalt had always been a man who loved silence and stillness above all.
Even if he had lost his memory, his tastes couldn’t have changed.
‘Finally, I feel like I can breathe.’
Just a moment ago, he had returned from the middle of a battlefield.
— The baby… got hurt…
With just that one line from Blaine, the whole mansion had been thrown into chaos.
— Honey, wha—gasp! Lirin! My sweet baby! How did your hand get cut? Huh? Which bastard did this?!
— Over here… I’m the bastard…
— Huh?
— Aaack! Grandpa, it wasn’t your fault! I just cut my hand a little, why are you overreacting~
— I… have no right to care for a child… I’m disqualified as a guardian… trash… a pile of dung…
— Oh dear. His self-esteem’s dropped again.
Lirin had returned from an outing with a bandage wrapped around her fingertip.
Blaine, declaring he needed to be kept away, had entered self-imposed quarantine.
Apparently, she’d been looking at flowerpots in a shop when one broke, and the child had touched it by accident.
z— It’s just a small scratch! It’s not even bleeding anymore! See? Ta-da! Ta-da-da! …Why is no one looking?”
Lirin stared blankly at Eliza running to fetch a doctor, and the servants busy preparing bandages, top-grade ointments, and iron supplements.
Only Kalec remained calm in that place.
— Oh my. Everyone’s overreacting… Huh? Duke? You were here?
— ……
— Um, hello? Anyone home?
Kalec barely held on to his vision, which threatened to go blank.
The sight of the small white bandage wrapped around her finger made him light-headed again.
His head knew it was just a scratch, but his heart raced and his mouth went dry. It was the recurrence of the “damned body’s memory” disease.
Only after confirming Lirin had received proper care and was sound asleep did he finally feel able to breathe.
Then a wave of relief—or perhaps exhaustion—washed over him.
He needed healing.
‘Hah. To think I was thrown off like this.’
What an unpredictable little rascal.
He had thought he could control everything.
These days, he felt like he was the one being controlled by a pink, candy-like kid.
‘How did I endure this for five years?’
You fool, 27-year-old Alec.
Kalec quietly closed his eyes and held his forehead.
The room was silent.
A familiar stillness and calm.
‘But…’
It was a bit… too quiet… wasn’t it?
• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •By Esraa• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •
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