LP 2.4 The Lizard with a Tied Tail

Once again, it was maddeningly distracting. Mylotte cleared his throat for no reason. It was truly an unavoidable thing—the ‘that issue’ swirling in his head had leaped out of his mouth along with the cough.

“About that Mage.”

Lucian, who had been flipping through documents, looked up.

“…Isn’t his lips a bit swollen?”

After spitting it out, Mylotte felt a bit of regret for bringing it up unnecessarily.

“Why are you looking at his lips?”

The response he got back was even more absurd. Thanks to that, Mylotte, feeling slightly less embarrassed, retorted in a chiding tone.

“Mages carry their faces around too, how could I not see it?”

“…….”

But at that obvious statement, Lucian’s expression stiffened oddly. As if he had never once considered that a Mage would carry his face around.

…Did I really bring up something unnecessary? Just as a second wave of regret was about to hit, Mylotte hesitated. Lucian shook his head and lowered his gaze.

“He’s performing well because he’s being treated kindly.”

He said it indifferently, as if discussing the passing weather or what food would be on the dinner table.

“Raising one Mage, that much effort is nothing.”

Mylotte opened and closed his mouth with an indescribable expression. Lucian considered pointing out that insolent attitude but decided to just focus on the matter at hand. The report detailing the progress of several matters he had been monitoring lately was rather unsatisfactory. He clicked his tongue irritably.

“Duke Malleste has stepped forward to support Bastian’s personal campaign? That man is Arabella’s close associate. Or has he switched sides without my knowledge?”

“For now, that is our understanding. We cannot ascertain the exact motive.”

“It seems he has forgotten who made his son that way.”

Lucian said sarcastically. Duke Malleste’s eldest son had been Arabella’s husband, and it hadn’t even been a few years since he left this world due to sexual scandals and drug addiction—disgraces too ignominious for a princess’s husband to bear. The cause of death was clearly suicide, but there was no one who didn’t know whose handiwork the entire process that drove that noble knight to his death was.

Duke Malleste himself, who had doted on his own son, couldn’t possibly not know.

The inner chamber was fairly soundproof, but Mylotte deliberately lowered his voice.

“Well, it’s not entirely unexpected. He was also dissatisfied with Arabella’s push for remarriage. A dead son won’t come back to life, but power is different, isn’t it?”

The living must live, that’s it. Mylotte added.

“And he was the King’s longtime friend. Seems old age makes him nostalgic.”

No matter how incompetently the King’s eldest son acted, his support base was solid. Most of it consisted of the King’s longtime close associates and families boasting the most conservative histories.

There were complex, intertwined reasons why those who had already firmly established their power bases would defend an unqualified successor, but the main reason was that Bastian had the King’s favor on his side.

Favoritism clearly existed even among one’s own children. It might be affection for the first-born son, or it could be narcissistic love given to the child most resembling oneself. In fact, Bastian was the child said to be the spitting image of his father, from appearance to personality. Whether in a positive or negative sense.

That didn’t mean the King neglected or didn’t cherish Lucian. But the love directed towards his third son, born with blond hair and blue eyes, bearing no resemblance to him at all, was slightly different in nature from that given to the eldest.

“What about Arabella? Even if it’s true she incited her younger brother, she wouldn’t have intended to endure something like this.”

“We are ascertaining. It seems news is delayed as Arabella is in Seodin, but I will report as soon as word comes back.”

“This is why leaving the capital is dangerous.”

Lucian said without emotion, pulling a map from a pile of papers stacked to one side of the table. The old map depicted only from Central Izelant to the north, already filled with colorful marks and notes on each castle and city.

“So now Bastian can just idle away the winter at Malleste’s main castle and return when the weather warms. If the King dies in the meantime, I’ll be dead before I can even call my army here.”

“…In that case, we would have to block and buy time at three places: Altera, Mare, and Rashido.”

Mylotte’s finger tapped three points on the map in succession.

“We can’t trust the Lord of Rashido Castle.”

Lucian shook his head.

“And what, will the Ollet cavalry just sit idle all this time? Is there a way to bring my army from Kalif to at least Silben? Even half of it.”

“…I will consider possible methods.”

Mylotte bowed his head. And hesitated for a moment.

“Your Highness, but….”

It was a point that absolutely had to be addressed, but somehow it was difficult to bring up. Because….

“To prepare for the possibility of civil war—no, even aside from that, to command troops in any situation, the ‘treatment’ must be completed.”

“…….”

“If the commander is incapacitated at night, that is far too dangerous. Your Highness, is the Mage’s treatment being properly conducted lately?”

…Because Mylotte found it extremely burdensome to keep bringing up matters concerning the Mage.

See, just saying the word ‘Mage’ changes his expression and makes the atmosphere oddly sensitive.

At first, Mylotte had even observed the Mage’s ‘treatment’ situation, but from some point on, he was completely excluded. Since his lord said ‘I’ll handle it myself,’ what could he do? But still, the way things were going seemed very suspicious.

Mylotte pressed again.

“Your Highness, is there any progress in the treatment?”

“…….”

No immediate answer came. After an uncomfortable silence, Lucian opened his mouth.

“…That’s not the most important matter right now.”

“Huh? That is the most important matter right now!”

Unconsciously raising his voice before his lord, Mylotte tried to argue, but Lucian was faster.

“I’ll decide what’s important. Civil war isn’t right upon us yet.”

“War is something you don’t know has arrived until it breaks out!”

“A commander can be replaced, but there’s only one Mage right now. If there’s a possibility we’ll have to fight a civil war from a disadvantageous position, having magical power is more important.”

“No….”

Mylotte’s mouth gaped. Uncharacteristically seeming unable to get his words out, he beat his chest, then spun around the room agitatedly before opening his eyes wide insolently again.

“So, that’s why you’re ‘treating kindly’ and ‘raising’ him?”

The words that had surged up to his throat earlier and been forcibly swallowed finally burst out.

“You weren’t that kind of person, were you? Holding and coaxing and teaching each step? Since when have you become so generous?”

“There just hasn’t been a need until now, what do you mean I’m not that kind of person?”

Lucian shook his head as if finding it absurd.

Magic is a power humans can never possess. But if one has a Mage? If one completely controls a Mage?

A Mage who listens only to my words, who moves exactly to my taste?

Then how is that different from me possessing magical power myself?

“It’s a worthwhile endeavor. You agreed too. Why are you acting like this now?”

Of course, the growth seems faster than expected, but that can be controlled.

Although different in essence, Mages and humans are so similar they’re indistinguishable at a glance. So their thoughts probably aren’t that different either.

And Lucian had seen many people in love. Whether intended or not, gaining others’ favor was too easy for him.

There are certain patterns and commonalities in that gaze, gestures, actions, words, the heartbeat felt when close. People might think their own love is special and unique, but in the end, love is merely a phenomenon that can be diagnosed with a few symptoms.

Therefore, Lucian knew love well. And from what he had seen so far, it was the most certain and effective means to make others submit.

“What I agreed to, Your Highness, was not recruiting a Mage while delaying urgent treatment.”

“Do you think I’m doing this because I want to delay?”

Finally, even Lucian’s voice rose.

“Finish the treatment first. Then he’ll have shaken off his guilt too, and will be eager to go home.”

Singing that damned goose goose song, no doubt. That part, thankfully, he managed to swallow down.

“I need a pretext to keep him until it’s certain.”

To him, it still felt insufficient. What? The size of the Mage’s heart. The size of his blind devotion.

So… at least a heart larger than what he gives to those damned geese was needed.

Actually, the fact that geese were the comparison point was unpleasant in itself. But that was also the reality. If he and those damned geese were placed on either end of a scale, the Mage’s heart would clearly tilt slightly towards the geese.

That’s not enough. With just that, one cannot say he has sufficiently grasped magical power.

The Mage is currently growing and showing sufficient results, so being soft and letting him slip away would be foolish.

“…Even if I accept all your other words, it’s not like there’s only one Mage.”

Mylotte’s voice cut through the chain of rationalizations. He too seemed to have barely cooled his head, his voice slightly subdued.

“The Gaikrux mages are coming to meet the King soon. The news came through the royal household this morning, so it’s certain. Probably a regular meeting.”

At the unexpected name, Lucian frowned, but Mylotte pretended not to see.

“I will submit a request for an audience with the Gaikrux Tower Lord. If we can resolve the issue through them, it would be clean and good. As for that Mage…”

“…….”

“You could just keep pretending to be sick, couldn’t you?”

He probably wouldn’t even notice, from what I can see. Mylotte added sarcastically.

He thought his lord might point out his attitude, but surprisingly, he said nothing. Rather, he seemed lost in thought.

That was a bit unsettling, but anyway, continuing this conversation further wouldn’t yield very productive results. Having nothing more to say, Mylotte bowed deeply.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

Until he turned his back and left, Lucian said nothing more.

---

It was a few nights later that Kosha was able to set foot in the ‘archive.’

After putting Lucian to sleep and coming out, he ran into Mylotte in the reception room. Mylotte, who had been talking to Eydrick about something, turned and stared intently at Kosha.

By now he had seen him often enough to get used to it, but lately Mylotte had been staring at Kosha particularly intently, which was a bit burdensome. As Kosha awkwardly greeted him and tried to slip away, Mylotte abruptly asked.

“Is His Highness asleep?”

“Yes, you can check if you like.”

He answered nervously, but Mylotte shook his head as if he hadn’t been very curious in the first place.

“No, it’s fine. Rather, is the bedroom perhaps a bit warm?”

“Huh? No, not really…”

At the sudden question, Kosha shook his head flusteredly, but Mylotte cut him off with a laugh.

“Your face looks a bit red. I wondered if it was warm.”

“…Ah.”

Simultaneously, Kosha’s face, which had been slightly flushed, flared up as if it truly looked hot.

His room wasn’t warm. He actually seemed to prefer the air in the bedroom on the cooler side. Of course Kosha’s face was red, but that was for a different reason.

“No, no. It’s not warm. It’s fine.”

Lately, Kosha had been rolling around on his bed. Of course, it wasn’t because he wanted to.

It’s just… Lucian seemed to really like kissing. He seemed skilled and unabashed. He would grab Kosha and kiss him with utter nonchalance. He did it standing, then sitting, and now lying down.

He couldn’t refuse the request to try kissing before sleep. A kiss meaning sleep well—Kosha had received such kisses from his parents every night when he was very young, but of course never on the lips. On the forehead, or the cheek. A solemn kiss belongs on such places.

So after agonizing, when he pressed his lips to Lucian’s forehead, Lucian flinched as if struck by a surprise attack, then laughed very weakly. And in the blink of an eye, he pulled Kosha, rolled over once, and pinned him down on the bed.

At first, Kosha was so startled he almost blasted him away with magic.

Fortunately, Kosha had never yet used that magic on an object as heavy as Lucian, so he managed to regain his senses before his mage’s instinct could arbitrarily calculate the mana required for such a foolish act.

Or perhaps his mind was too clouded for even his mage’s instinct to run wild…

He smelled very good, the mattress was soft, and the bedding was smooth. Kosha worried his not-so-clean clothes would dirty his pristine white bedding, but he said it was fine.

He liked it when he said it was fine.

In Kosha’s life so far, there had been more not-fine things than fine ones… Lately, he kept saying ‘it’s fine’ for every little thing, so now it seemed like there were more fine things than not-fine ones.

And whenever he thought that, his heart would pound unbearably. A pounding heart was very familiar to Kosha, but this was different from anything he’d known before.

How could it not be ominous when his heart beat this violently?

That was probably why he kept falling for him completely. Kosha was aware that he seemed to be becoming too easy a man. When asked for a kiss, he’d just press his lips without even putting up a token resistance… He’d heard somewhere that a man shouldn’t act lightly from a young age…

But the other party was Lucian. How could Kosha hold out when he persuaded him gently with kind words and a smiling face? In this world, there was no one else who spoke to him that way…

Lucian might be someone loved by all and who bestows love upon all, but for Kosha… meeting such a person in life wouldn’t be easy.

Thinking that, Kosha, feeling at a loss again, flusteredly averted his gaze. Mylotte, who had been silently watching his expression change, muttered as if amazed.

“Pretexts and whatnot, really well done…”

“Huh?”

“No, that wasn’t directed at you. Rather, there’s something I want to ask.”

He waved his hand and deliberately lightened his voice.

“You need a magic tome, I hear? I heard from Eydrick.”

At the unexpected topic, Kosha’s eyes widened.

Eydrick was practically the person Kosha saw most often, so it was only natural their conversations had increased. Neither was the type to keep a conversation going warmly, so it didn’t last long, but they reached a point where they occasionally discussed magic.

There were quite a few people in Izelant with negative perceptions of Mages, but fortunately this taciturn knight didn’t seem to be one of them. So Kosha sometimes showed him simple magic, and he too often asked Kosha about magic-related things.

His questions generally focused on large-scale offensive magic; perhaps he had personally experienced it in battle before.

Such magic was generally overly difficult or costly, so at Kosha’s current level, having just started using magic again, it wasn’t easy to give useful answers. The mention of a magic tome came up during that. While saying it was a pity he didn’t know so much.

But, he had already told Lucian that early on. Had Mylotte not known until now? Kosha hesitated.

“Yes, I do need one, but, um, His Highness said preparation was needed…”

“Ah, preparation.”

Mylotte frowned and gave a short laugh.

“Really… Yes, preparation, he would say that.”

“……?”

“Do you know where magic tomes are stored in this castle?”

He drew out his words, stroking his chin. Kosha blankly shook his head.

“They are divided into three main places. Among them, the King’s archive in the main tower and the archive in the north tower where the Gaikrux delegation stays are indeed places even His Highness cannot easily access.”

“Oh… yes.”