Chapter 81
Fiorette, who had been raising her voice for a while, grimaced.
She gestured at the curious gazes around us.
Jin and Ripert glared at the servants who were hanging around nearby.
I spoke softly, watching Fiorette freeze in the now-silent hallway.
“No matter the wound, medicine will heal it, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
I chuckled quietly as I faced her, her expression hardening with fear.
“It’s not sympathy. I’m not looking down on you.”
“What…?”
You don’t need to see, hear, or touch to know.
That unpleasant feeling I sensed every time I looked at Fiorette.
It was a feeling I hadn’t known before.
“Scratches on your neck will heal with ointment, and internal ailments will get better with medicine. So, what can you use to heal yourself?”
“…”
“Don’t leave your wounds untreated just because you can’t find medicine. If you do, you’ll end up carrying a wound that could’ve healed for the rest of your life.”
* * *
“Bozbon sure loves sudden surprises.”
Count Lyman Graham said with a heavy voice, complaining to Kestian.
“Only the prince would do that, right?”
Lyman tilted his teacup leisurely and let out a hearty laugh.
“Isn’t it funny how you insist you don’t want to attend the boring military meetings, and then suddenly want to join the Brilloxen merchant meeting?”
“…My lord.”
“It’s been over 20 years since I became the prince’s advisor, but I still get surprised by the prince’s sudden actions. Remember when he suddenly said he wanted to be a woman…?”
“What on earth are you talking about?!”
“Hahaha.”
Feeling dizzy from his cutting remarks, Kestian struggled to keep Lyman’s mouth shut, which brought up embarrassing memories.
Lyman, still relaxed, took another sip of tea and glanced at Kestian before lowering his cup.
“Are you worried?”
“Of course, shouldn’t I be?”
Kestian retorted in a curt voice, resting his chin on his hand.
There was nowhere in the empire that could stop Bozbourne from making his move between the two major ducal families.
Even the ducal house of Palieva found it difficult to suppress Bozbourne.
Palieva, as a branch of the imperial family, faced significant checks on their power.
Thanks to that, their influence weakened, and Bozbourne used the weakened imperial family to become stronger.
“It’s obvious that if Bozbourne, who’s trying to expel Palieva from politics, gains support from Rippleton, things will change.”
Kestian recalled his father, Winston, who sighed heavily right after the engagement date was announced.
He lamented that the decline of their family’s power, which had been ongoing for three generations, would peak during his own.
How bad had it gotten that his younger sister, Rubice, thought about entering into a political marriage to help the family?
That was how shaken Palieva was.
“Rippleton won’t be able to refuse Bozbourne.
They’ll be able to solve their long-standing financial issues, and even if that weren’t the case, they can’t ignore Bozbourne’s hold on the council.”
“That’s common sense, isn’t it? So, do you think the engagement will hold?”
“Of course. Unless the heavens split apart, it’s bound to happen. Unless there are any variables.”
“Variables?”
Kestian rolled his eyes with a bored expression.
A familiar face drifted through his mind as he thought.
“If the engagement really goes through, does that mean I’ll lose my match…?”
Kestian’s muttering made Lyman’s gaze lock onto him as if asking what he meant.
After a moment of silence, Kestian sighed and got up from his seat.
“I’m going to take a walk for a bit.”
“Come back before lunch. We have a luncheon scheduled.”
“Got it, so don’t worry about it…”
As Kestian opened the door to step outside, he stopped when he spotted a familiar yet unfamiliar face.
He heard a voice from behind calling, “Your Highness?” but ignored it and shut the door.
Kestian stood still as he approached the ash-blond man, Aden, who was looking down at him.
* * *
As the lunchtime appointment with Aden drew near, he still hadn’t shown up.
What was going on with the man who used to be so punctual?
While waiting for Aden, Bellietta mentally organized the possible scenarios.
Time passed, and the sun began to set.
Even then, Aden hadn’t appeared.
“Ripert, find out where Aden is.”
I had Ripert look for Aden, but he couldn’t locate him either.
The servants at Bozbourne didn’t know where he had gone either.
It made sense; everyone was too busy preparing for the upcoming engagement.
The banquet hall would open at sunset, so they had to finish everything by then.
“It’s quiet.”
Bozbourne’s library, usually bustling with people, was eerily silent, with no shadows of people except for the librarian.
I thought about looking for some materials, but I was surprised by how empty it was.
The librarian was the only one dozing off in his chair.
Breathing in the still air, I opened the door to the archive deep in the library.
It wasn’t a place just anyone could enter, but with Bellietta’s help, there were few places in Bozbourne I couldn’t access.
I was hoping to find the materials I hadn’t been able to locate in the office and started looking around the archive.
There were various documents related to Bozbourne’s transactions scattered throughout, but none were what I was looking for.
In addition, there were records mixed in with rare books on hermeneutics, semiotics, and mathematics.
As I examined the materials and quietly moved to the side, I suddenly felt something brush against my feet.
“A book?”
There was a book open on the floor.
I bent down to pick it up and examined the cover.
‘The Origins of Ancient Semiotics.’
*Semiotics: Study of signs and symbols*
I stared at the title for a moment before flipping to the first page.
From the very first page, there were complicated explanations and interpretations, along with simple examples that followed.
It was all semiotics, but most of the interpretation and problem-solving was mathematics.
I wondered if anyone even read this kind of book.
I rubbed my sore neck from looking up and sat down on the bookcase.
As I turned the pages, checking the brief explanations and examples of the methods, I took out a notepad from my pocket, placed it on the book, and picked up a pen.
“I should really avoid messing up the book.”
Just then, a voice rang out from above.
I tilted my head up to see a red-haired girl sitting on top of the bookshelf, looking down at me.
Sucking on a candy and swinging her legs, she looked just like a little kid.
“Ancient semiotics is a field that even professors at the Imperial University find hard to understand. Even wizards struggle with semiotics and can’t move beyond the beginner level.”
The girl, still wearing a bored expression, pulled the candy out of her mouth.
“Honestly, you’d be better off going back and munching on some candy instead of wasting your time reading and trying to solve problems.”
Was she giving advice or just stating facts?
I turned away from the girl, who continued to speak bluntly, and moved my pen.
Suddenly, I heard a sound and a voice next to me.
“Tsk, tsk. You don’t know it’s a pointless endeavor. Really, only fools take reckless challenges. You have to know your limits to live without greed. Those with nothing but crap in their heads don’t know their place…”
“That’s a stupid comment.”
“What?”
“Failing doesn’t require any conditions. Everyone tries to succeed, and sometimes it just doesn’t work out.”
I closed the book I was holding and returned it to its spot.
After capping my pen, I playfully tapped the little girl on the head.
“If you live in fear of failure like that, you’ll end up as an adult soaked in a sense of defeat, unable to do anything. So be careful.”
“What… Do you know who I am…! Where are you going?!”
I waved my hand dismissively at the noisy voice calling me from behind and turned away.
I had wasted enough time.
Leaving the quiet library, I headed to my room to wait for the materials that Daytum might have sent.
At the entrance stood Ripert, who had been looking for Aden.
“Did you find Aden?”
“I did.”
He found him?
“Where is he?”
Even though I asked urgently, Ripert hesitated before answering.
Seeing his uncertainty made me furrow my brows, and Ripert cautiously opened his mouth.
“He’s with Princess Bellietta.”
A sense of foreboding flashed through my mind.
* * *
Medea was pressing her palm against her forehead, where Sierra had just touched.
She looked utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend how she had been treated.
As the essence of all wizards, a living history, and the focal point of the Magic Association,
the archmage and sage everyone revered, Ezekiel Ross’s pupil.
Medea stomped her foot, recalling all the titles that described her.
How dare they treat her like a child?
No one in Bozbourne could afford to look down on her.
Not even the duke himself.
Medea tracked Sierra’s retreating figure with her eyes, then quickly turned her body.
She reached out to grab the book Sierra had just been reading, but realized it was too high for her to reach, so she pouted.
Just then, as if the book had a will of its own, it slipped out of the shelf and fell into Medea’s hands.
Without wasting a moment, she opened the book and flipped to the page where Sierra had solved the problems.
But there were no notes left by Sierra.
Medea placed her hand where the note had been and slowly lifted it.
A blue aura rose from her palm, and as she scattered it, the energy shot up and formed a massive character in the air.
Watching the letters slowly arrange themselves, Medea’s previously crumpled expression began to relax.
“…This is unbelievable.”
A voice of surprise mixed with disbelief escaped Medea’s lips.
“…You solved this? Just by looking at that explanation in front of you?”