LP 3.19 The Prince’s Rebellion

“Eydrick, I will ask you one thing. Answer me in the name of our friendship and your conscience.”

“…….”

“Is the content written in there enough to sway the outcome of this ‘fight’?”

Eydrick’s expression stiffened slightly. In the court, the choice of words was always intentional. ‘Fight’ instead of ‘war.’ A conflict between nations was clearly termed a ‘war.’ This fight—this internal family feud. With Bastian, or perhaps even Arabella.

“I dare to speak before my conscience and my loyalty. My information is still lacking, and my judgment is humble. However….”

Eydrick’s Adam's apple bobbed, and his jaw tightened.

“At the very least, I have found no evidence that the Mage will betray Your Highness in this ‘fight’.”

His lord's eyes looked directly at the knight. Was Eydrick telling the truth? He had to judge that as well. Was Eydrick, who clearly held goodwill—no, emotions beyond that—for the Mage, actually speaking the truth? What was written inside?

“…I see.”

Lucian answered slowly. Then, he slowly pushed away the letter held in Eydrick’s hand.

“Then I will not look at this for now.”

Knowing too much is not always a good thing. Just as there is a time for all things, there is a time for knowing. Controlling that timing was also the capability of a master.

“Keep it. Or burn it entirely. I will ask for it again when the time comes. Bring it back then. Of course, the content must be more satisfying than what is in there now.”

“…I shall keep that in mind.”

“Then let us set the Mage's matter aside for a moment and return to the internal affairs. I am currently in a situation where every hand counts.”

With a much more relaxed voice, he patted Eydrick’s shoulder encouragingly. The taciturn knight bowed with disciplined movements.

After sending the knight out and remaining alone in the inner chamber, Lucian sat still for a moment. With his eyes closed and his head tilted back, he didn't move a muscle. Only the space between his brows was slightly narrowed.

Soon, he opened his eyes and roughly rubbed his face, which was tinged with fatigue. He slowly rose from his seat, blew out the dimly burning candle, and took off his gown.

His large frame moved cautiously once more. From opening the bedroom door, closing it, drawing back the curtains, and climbing onto the bed, he made no sound. The Mage was still fast asleep, clutching a corner of the blanket.

As he gently pulled the blanket from the Mage's embrace and slid his own arm in its place, the Mage mumbled something. He frowned slightly, as if the object harder than the blanket was uncomfortable, but soon hugged the forearm tightly, seemingly liking the warm body heat.

Lucian intentionally pulled the bed curtains back a little, and the leaking moonlight faintly illuminated the Mage's face.

…It’s fine, let’s think simply. Nothing has changed.

Even when he thought he was Bastian's Mage, he had intended to seduce him and make him his own. Now, the ‘Kingdom of Graphen’ has simply been added to the list of potential masters. That is all.

No matter who the master is, he just needs to seduce him and make him his. He can simply entice him to betray any other master.

And while changing the master, he can change the nationality as well. Making him a native of Izelant, so that no one could sense any trace of a foreign land, let alone Graphen, from the Mage.

He could teach him new manners and forge the documents. It was merely one more step added to what he had originally intended to do.

Such a task was nothing compared to the things he had done until now.

Lucian bit his lip firmly. Despite having closed his eyes for only half an hour, sleep would not come again, so he hugged Kosha tighter. The warm body that smelled pleasant yielded meekly as he held him.

In a situation as sharp as a blade, this soft body was his only solace. Even though he knew he shouldn't find comfort in such a thing.

*

The progress in breaking the curse was quite good. So much so that even Gosrick, who had been hostile toward Kosha recently, couldn't bring himself to say anything.

The cursed object found this time was a single thread pulled from the intricate embroidery of a tapestry hanging on the wall. It was quite thick compared to the others and had a strange color, making it stand out; it was a mystery why it hadn't been noticed until now.

“Things like this usually have magic cast on them to make them inconspicuous. It’s the same principle as the robe I wear,” Kosha explained on his own, as if reading Gosrick’s thoughts.

The thread looked as if something filthy was smeared all over it. The Mage, who had plucked the thread that had been loosely entwined in the embroidery, grimaced as if looking at a bug before tossing it into the fire.

“I think it was stained with blood. Not human blood, but probably a horse, a white horse….”

It was information he truly did not want to know. Gosrick asked, covering his eyes with his palm.

“So, just how much more of this do we have to do?”

“It should be almost done. Seven-tenths, no, eight….”

Kosha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if detecting a faint scent mixed in the air. Then, he approached the King's bed and carefully removed the gemstones that had been placed at the head and beside both ears.

And… the King slowly opened his eyes.

To be honest, as a knight, Gosrick had experienced numerous battlefields and had killed countless people in the process. Naturally, he did not believe in things like ghosts, grudges, or curses. In the first place, one could not live with a sane mind if they believed in such things while living as a knight.

But this time, he had no choice but to believe in this thing called a ‘curse.’

The King was changing. He still looked old and frail for his age, but he was definitely improving.

“…Are you a healer?”

The King asked, blinking slowly. He did not call Kosha a ‘physician.’ It was as if he knew he was no mere physician.

“I am, Your Majesty.”

Kosha extended one arm to the side and bowed deeply. It was the Izelant-style greeting that Lucian had set a date for and made him repeat several times to learn.

“I wish to see your face. Come closer.”

And while the King was ‘improving,’ Kosha and the King became quite… close. It was rather unexpected. Kosha was hardly intimidated even before the King and was surprisingly affectionate toward an elder.

Their conversations were short, but the King was a man who knew how to ask the necessary questions. He mainly confirmed whether the things he had ‘committed’ were ‘dreams’ or ‘reality,’ and asked about the well-being of a few close officials.

Most of these ended with the King's lamentations and tears, followed by the Mage's calming magic…. In Gosrick's view, the King seemed to long for this time of day more than any other. All the more so as his mind returned to normal.

“Sir… please step outside for a moment.”

The King gestured toward Gosrick. Standing by the door, Gosrick was inwardly flustered. This was the first time he had been dismissed.

“I am sorry, Your Majesty. According to the orders of the Regent, I have a duty to protect Your Majesty's safety. I cannot leave this place carelessly.”

It was a truly knightly and textbook answer. However, the King suddenly flew into a rage.

“That damn Regent! Who is it, which one of the three is it! Is the Regent higher than the King!”

The King, shouting as if boiling from within, soon succumbed to his own anger and slumped over, coughing. Kosha skillfully caught the patient's body.

“Your Majesty, please stay still. You must be careful. How about we draw the curtains instead? The voices will leak out less.”

Kosha spoke as he laid the King back down properly. Gosrick, who had the duty to grasp all conversations between the King and the Mage, frowned, but Kosha gave him a subtle wink while drawing the curtains.

What is this, some kind of signal…? While he wondered, slender fingers tapped the edge of the curtain—tap, tap. Rhythmically.

It was just as Gosrick narrowed his eyes at the suspicious movement.

“Now, if I speak softly, it won't be heard outside.”

Kosha's whispering voice from inside the curtains was heard with excessive clarity. It was almost as if it were being driven straight into Gosrick's ear.

The King was silent for a moment. It was the moment Gosrick unconsciously tried to dig in his ear.

“…You are a Mage, aren't you?”

It was a very faint and blurred voice. It was even slightly favorable.

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“I thought so. …Did Castor send you?”

There was a slight pause in the answer. After hesitating for a moment, Kosha replied.

“No.”

“No? Then where did you come from, Mage? Are you from Gaikrux?”

The King asked suspiciously. The implication that those people would never help him seemed to lie between the lines. Kosha smiled awkwardly.

“That is also not the case, Your Majesty. I am… Prince Lucian's Mage.”

Then, a silence fell. Gosrick, who had not expected the Mage to reveal his identity so suddenly and arbitrarily, also became highly alert.

It was just as the prolonged silence made even the muscles in his back stiffen.

“Lucian… obtained a Mage…?”

The answer that returned very slowly was slightly different from what Gosrick had expected.

“That child obtained a Mage? And sent you to me?”

“Yes.”

“Good grief….”

It was a very exhausted voice. After swallowing hard a few times, the King spoke again.

“I failed completely as a father to that child.”

Actually, I just didn't do it, the King added self-deprecatingly.

“I thought he wasn't fit to be a king. He is quite hot-tempered and prone to taking sides. Moreover, he doesn't know how to let things slide. A king must sometimes know how to close his eyes….”

“Your Majesty….”

The Mage's troubled voice overlapped with the endless stream of not-quite-insults. To Gosrick, it sounded like a fairly accurate assessment. As expected, a king is a king—just as Gosrick was thinking.

“But now, that child has obtained a Mage.”

“…….”

“The ways of the world are truly unpredictable. Perhaps I misjudged him.”

The King chuckled weakly.

“But if you are Lucian's Mage, where is my Mage? Where is Castor, that he does not come to see me?”

“…….”

“Hmm? Where is Castor? Is he busy with something else?”

At that point, Gosrick closed his eyes with a silent sigh. The image of the corpse that had remained as white bones came to mind. He could clearly envision the troubled expression of the Mage inside the curtains.

A heavy silence followed once more. And eventually, it seemed Kosha had done something, perhaps a shake of the head.

“…What does that mean?”

The voice of the King asking back was trembling violently.

“No, don't just shake your head. Explain it accurately. What….”

“…….”

“Answer me. What on earth… what does that mean? Castor is gone? Entirely? Not just gone somewhere for a while?”

The Mage still could not say anything, and only the voice of the old man urging for an answer echoed. However, there was no way the King truly did not understand the situation.

…He simply wanted to deny it.

“…While my mind was clouded, what happened to my friend?”

A blurred voice, a brief silence, and finally, the King wailed aloud. There was no need for magic to eavesdrop. The King's scream, shaking the bedroom, was no different from that of the lowliest subject.

Just a mere human, filled with pain.

The Mage's voice continued softly, comforting him.

“Your Majesty, you must take care of your health. Please lie down. I will let you rest.”

“Castor, what happened to my friend, whose doing was it….”

“You will feel much better after you sleep and wake up.”

In the end, it seemed he used calming magic. The sound of sobbing slowly subsided, and soon the room became quiet.

And a moment later, the Mage who stepped out from behind the curtains looked a bit melancholy. Gosrick noticed that the inside of his sleeve was damp. It seemed he had been wiping the old man's tears incessantly.

“…Good work.”

Though he had been hostile toward the Mage recently, he couldn't help but say a word. Kosha looked up weakly.

“I didn't know how to answer.”

“That was the best you could do. You did enough.”

Gosrick patted Kosha's shoulder. The death of a loved one is something all living beings must endure. Although he was a bit surprised that the King's reaction was more intense than expected.

Considering he was a man who had only shed a few tears at his first wife's funeral….

While thinking crookedly in his mind, the Mage suddenly spoke.

“How could he die, leaving my human all alone?”

It was a completely ‘opposite’ perspective. The object of empathy was different.

“He must have been so worried that he couldn't even close his eyes…. I wonder what on earth happened to him.”

The Mage who spoke thus looked deeply sad. It even made him curious. Is the bond between a Mage and a human truly that special? For both the human and the Mage? To that extent?

Unable to find words for a moment, Gosrick shrugged and chose to change the subject.

“I will report today's events. You should get some rest until the next meeting.”

“I'll leave it to you, thank you, Sir Gosrick.”

Kosha bowed softly in greeting. Truly, it was a posture perfectly like an Izelant court noble. Wondering who had taught him.

*

The search for cursed objects ended when Kosha pulled a strange piece of paper from under the King's bed.

It was an object that had caused trouble for several days because it was hidden so cunningly. The Mage had been stomping his feet in distress, saying that something was definitely left, but it was strange.

In truth, Gosrick thought it might have been okay to stop around here. Every time a cursed object disappeared, the King's condition improved noticeably, and now he just looked like a moderately sick old man. Of course, his hair had turned completely white, and he still looked much older than his actual age.

Furthermore, the King's complete recovery wasn't necessarily a good thing from Lucian's position.

However, the Mage was adamant. He claimed it was useless unless everything was removed. Well, as a human who knew nothing of such things, he couldn't exactly refute it.

And the Mage eventually crawled under the King's bed and pulled out a worn piece of paper folded twice from between the bed frame and the mattress.

When he unfolded the paper, which looked as if it had been roughly torn from a string-bound notebook, there was a drawing inside. It was in a dark red ink close to brown, and it looked like a drawing a four or five-year-old child had made with their fingers.

“It looks ominous just by looking at it.”

Gosrick, who was looking down at the drawing over Kosha's shoulder, muttered. The drawing skill was terrible, but that actually made it more intuitive.

A leaning tower, lightning falling behind it, and a person with a smiling face were drawn, with something like blood spurting from between the head and the torso. Overall, it was grotesque.

“Is it a drawing meant to kill the King?”

“…I wonder.”

Kosha stared silently at the drawing.

The person in the drawing was wearing clothes like a long skirt and had long hair. Roughly shoulder-length. While there are men with long hair, the person in the drawing somehow looked like a woman.

And… the material used for the drawing. The smell of white horse blood lingered again. Why did they keep using white horse blood?

Was it just a worry to think of the silver-haired mage of Gaikrux Tower upon seeing the drawing of a person spurting blood from their neck?

What was certain was that this drawing was not newly created to curse the King. It was likely an object that the designer of the curse had possessed for a long time, filled with bad emotions. It was highly probable that this was used to utilize the ‘malice’ that had clung to the object over that long period.

He had thought the silver-haired mage killed the King's Mage and cursed the King… but could that not be the case? How on earth was this working?

‘…Do not ever speak of that silver-haired mage until I give you permission. To anyone.’

Lucian's voice mixed into his confused mind. It was a warning Lucian had repeated as if brainwashing him several times since the day Kosha had brought back the silver hair.

After contemplating, the Mage's hand folded the paper again. As he threw it into the fireplace, the old, dry paper quickly vanished into a handful of ash, scattering sparks.

“Is it really over now?”

“Probably.”

Kosha let out a deep sigh and slowly circled the room. After opening all the tightly closed windows one by one, the Mage made a few unknown gestures in the air.

And in an instant, a refreshing air of unknown origin swept through the room. It was clear enough for even a human like Gosrick to feel. It smelled like mint, or perhaps like a deep forest.

“…I'll leave the protective magic for a bit longer. Just in case.”