LP 3.14 The Prince’s Rebellion

No, that couldn’t be. He let out a laugh, sheer absurdity washing over him. While a Mage’s body was said to be softer than a human’s, the basic structure wasn’t fundamentally different. Without muscles, flesh, and cartilage to support the bones… it was just a skeleton. How was it any different from the animal bones scattered throughout the forest?

After observing the skull for a long while, Kosha suddenly moved his foot.

“Wait, don’t go too close.”

Lucian reached out urgently. But it was a matter of a split second. Or rather, it wasn’t that Lucian was slow, but that the gray robe possessed a power of its own.

The robe, obeying the Mage’s will, evaded Lucian’s touch like flowing water, and Kosha took that opening to reach toward the skull. More precisely, he reached for the seal ring on the finger bone.

Why did he suddenly want to touch that ring? It was as if he were possessed.

Or… as if he had fallen into a trap.

However, the act of simply reaching out was so simple and easy that he had no time to be suspicious. And the moment his slender fingertips brushed the hard metal surface—

It stung, like being pricked by a needle. Or perhaps like thin glass shattering. And simultaneously—

The skull rolled off the neck.

The sight felt incredibly sloooow to Kosha. Roll, roll, roll… Thump.

The hat fell off, and the polished cranium rolled to Kosha’s feet. No, wait. That wasn’t a skull.

The empty eye sockets of the skull met his ‘eyes.’ They were green eyes. And there was thick brown curly hair. The skin was pale, and the severed section of the neck was drenched in blood. Blood, so much blood… Kosha’s lips parted unconsciously, but no words came out.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. A loud sound had been shaking the ground for a while now. It sounded like dozens of ceremonial spears striking the earth in unison. It was loud enough to vibrate in his head. Where was this sound coming from?

Yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the green pupils of the head looking up at him. He wanted to stop, wanted to stop looking.

“Wake up!”

Lucian’s sharp voice pulled Kosha halfway back to reality. In that moment, Kosha realized that the thumping sound wasn’t spear shafts striking the ground, but the sound of his own heart racing. However, the head at his feet remained. Your Highness, can’t you see this? The blood is all over the carpet right now…

“…Kosha!”

‘…Kosa.’

Lucian’s voice, as he pulled Kosha into his arms, overlapped with ‘someone’s’ voice. And he definitely saw it. The mouth of the ‘severed neck’ moved, calling him. Kosha… saw it. He had seen it.

In an instant, Kosha pushed Lucian away.

“Ugh—”

Collapsing onto the floor, Kosha vomited.

What the hell, why is he suddenly like this? Amidst the panicked voice, the sensation of large hands urgently embracing him, and the feel of a firm body, Kosha blacked out.

---

When he opened his eyes, he saw the canopy of a four-poster bed.

The wooden ceiling was decorated with intricate vine-patterned carvings. It was a beautiful and expensive bed.

For a moment, Kosha was confused about where he was and what time it was. His memories up until the moment he lost consciousness were jumbled.

“Are you awake?”

If the voice from beside him had been a moment later, he might have unconsciously called for his ‘nanny.’

With a short internal sneer, Kosha stepped back into reality. Or rather, it was closer to him desperately ‘clinging’ to it. Kosha the gooseherd, Kosha from Allohen. Kosha who lived in Osterwick, Lucian’s Kosha.

And this was Lucian’s bedroom.

“Your Highness.”

His throat felt scratchy and dry. He frowned at a voice that sounded terrible even to his own ears, and Lucian handed him a glass.

“Just wet your throat. Don’t drink too much at once.”

The water had a subtle sweetness, perhaps because a bit of honey had been added. When Kosha had sipped about half of the honey water, Lucian took the glass back.

“Are you really okay? Your stomach?”

“I think I’m okay…”

With a softened voice, Kosha nodded. Lucian’s expression was still grim. He touched various parts of Kosha’s body to check his condition. His large hand touched Kosha’s forehead to check his temperature.

Only after fussing over him for a while did he finally seem relieved, rubbing his face and letting out a sigh.

“I was so startled, really…”

Exhaustion clung to his voice. Since he was a man who rarely showed signs of fatigue, Kosha felt somehow even more apologetic.

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?”

Lucian snapped, lifting his face from his palm.

“You’re sorry?”

“……”

“Why do you suddenly touch things on your own, then suddenly vomit and faint, then run a burning fever, and spend the whole night delirious, and even when I call in royal physicians one after another, they’re all useless, and I have no one to ask or turn to for help on how the hell to treat a Mage, and in the middle of all that, I…!”

He poured out his words. He was fast and aggressive.

At a glance, he seemed angry… but Kosha could somehow read a sense of helpless fear and resentment within it.

He must have been very frightened. Beside his bed were an armchair and a small table that weren’t usually there, and upon them, all sorts of documents were piled up. It seemed he had worked from the bedroom, never leaving Kosha’s side.

Gritting his teeth, Lucian turned his head and breathed heavily as if trying to control his emotions. A completely disheartened Kosha lowered his head.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I’m truly sorry.”

“……”

“But… um…”

Being sorry was one thing, but among the words Lucian had just poured out, there was something that caught in his chest. A slightly nervous Kosha opened his mouth while gauging Lucian’s mood.

“Did I… did I talk in my sleep? Did I say anything strange…?”

“……”

Lucian didn’t answer for a moment, his head still turned away. As if he were still sorting through his emotions.

It was a moment where even the sound of breathing in the room seemed to stop.

Lucian slowly turned back to Kosha. Their eyes met. And in those blue-gray eyes…

“You want to know what nonsense you talked? ‘This hurts,’ ‘that hurts,’ ‘do this for me,’ ‘do that for me,’ ‘I’m hot,’ ‘I’m cold’—should I recite every single thing you whined about while sobbing all night?”

Those eyes, which had held an unreadable light, were instantly covered in irritation. Startled by the rapid-fire nagging, Kosha unconsciously hunched his shoulders.

Had he really whined that much? He didn’t remember it at all. No, he had never whined like that even as a child. There were times when things became a disaster because he endured the pain without showing it…

“But why are you so worried about that, hmm? Is there something you’re concerned about?”

Lucian asked back with a thin smile. He was smiling… but he didn’t look happy at all. Further intimidated by the pressure of that strange smile, Kosha waved his hands.

“No, no, it’s not that, I was just worried I might have said something… impolite.”

It was a random excuse, but Lucian narrowed his eyes and caught the end of the sentence.

“What kind of impolite things?”

“Pardon?”

“Like cursing at me?”

This was a sudden, baseless accusation!

Regardless of the tension up until now, it was so absurd that both Kosha’s eyes and mouth flew open.

Lucian suddenly leaned his head in. So close that their noses almost touched.

“Don’t you curse at me in your head normally?”

“Whaaat?”

It was an outrageously unfair allegation. Kosha shook his head frantically.

“I absolutely do not! Why on earth would you say such a thing?”

“I wonder? You should know by now.”

A long, neat fingertip tapped the tip of Kosha’s nose.

“That I’m not as purely kind as I appear to be from the outside.”

“……?”

Kosha blinked. To be honest… he couldn’t tell if the man was joking right now.

“…You are kind.”

So… he just spoke honestly. Lucian frowned almost reflexively.

“Kind?”

“Yes. Uh, you’re gentle.”

Kosha pondered for a moment. He had learned royal court etiquette, but he hadn’t yet learned the specific flamboyant rhetoric and expressions that went with it.

In short, he was not eloquent.

“You’re kind, and, uh, and… you’re the coolest.”

Even though no one was there, Kosha glanced around and whispered quickly. His cheeks flushed slightly, but saying it wasn’t that embarrassing. After all, the fact that ‘Lucian is cool’ was a proposition like an obvious truth to Kosha.

However, Lucian’s expression was bizarre. As if he had heard something he wasn’t supposed to.

But wasn’t he a man who heard he was cool so often from everywhere that he was sick of it? He probably heard it a hundred times a day just by stepping outside the castle. And he had always responded to such praise and adoration with great skill and composure.

But now… he looked like a person hearing such words for the first time in his life.

“…Sincerely?”

He asked abruptly. Was it just his imagination? In that moment, he felt less like the skilled Regent Prince and more like just a young boy.

“More sincerely than anything.”

Kosha nodded, emphasizing every single word clearly. He worried that he might have sounded sarcastic.

And then…

After staring at Kosha for a long time with an unreadable expression, he hurriedly averted his gaze. As a bewildered Kosha blinked, Lucian suddenly whipped his head back and glared at him.

“You’re still not fully awake.”

His fingertip abruptly pushed hard against Kosha’s forehead. Kosha, who ended up half-lying down, tried to say something, but Lucian was faster in standing up.

“I’ll have some soft food brought in, so eat and get some rest.”

“Rest? Here?”

“Then where else would you want to rest?”

His eyes were piercing, as if something terrible would happen if Kosha suggested anywhere else. Thinking of his small, humble servant’s room, Kosha tactfully shook his head.

“No, it’s just, I wondered what to do about the… the work…”

“I am the one who does the work. Not you.”

Lucian cut him off overbearingly. However, when Kosha lowered his head as if intimidated, his tone softened slightly.

“…If there’s anything else you want to eat, call someone. But they say eating too much suddenly when you’re sick is bad for the stomach, so try to hold back if possible. I’ll be back before dinner.”

Only then did Kosha realize it was almost lunchtime. Come to think of it, how many days had he been unconscious?

“Stay put this time, really. Don’t go wandering around.”

But before he could ask, Lucian left the room with a few bundles of documents in his hand. Leaving only a single warning.

The bedroom door closed with a bang. Lucian searched the inner pocket of his coat, pulled out a key, and irritably locked the door.

The bedroom of royalty, especially that of an influential prince like Lucian, was rarely locked from the outside. The metal lock, which hadn’t been used in a long time, made an unpleasant creak and spun uselessly.

Though this lock would be useless against a ‘Mage.’

Still, having managed to lock the door, Lucian leaned his back against it. I should have a few Idelma Gold locks made. He closed his eyes and sighed. It would be even better if I could replace the entire locking mechanism with Idelma Gold…

“Your Highness.”

A familiar voice cut through the cluttered thoughts filling his head.

Looking up, Gosrick was standing before him. He hadn’t even noticed someone approaching. I really am not in my right mind. A neurotic sneer leaked through his teeth.

“Has he regained consciousness?”

Gosrick gestured toward the bedroom door. Lucian frowned and pulled Gosrick by the shoulder.

Passing through the inner chamber connected to the bedroom and entering the drawing room, Eydrick was waiting alone.

“I have ensured the silence of the royal attendants who cleaned the room and the royal apothecary.”

Lucian stared expressionlessly for a moment at the black-haired knight who delivered his report dryly, then nodded.

“Keep an eye on them just in case, and check in periodically.”

“I will handle it.”

Then, silence hung for a while. There were only three men in the room. The same three who had gone to find the King’s Mage.

“…Do you intend to just leave him be?”

It was Gosrick who spoke again. Lucian’s gaze snapped back sharply.

“What do you mean, Sir Gosrick?”

“……”

“What do you mean ‘just leave him be’? Should I tie him up? Or hang him upside down? Tell me what you want.”

At the openly sarcastic voice, Gosrick’s face became even more serious.

“Your Highness, please judge this rationally. That man is…”

“‘That man’?”

“…This is a matter that requires discussion, absolutely.”

The gazes of the two clashed head-on, and the air in the room grew tense. Lucian’s jaw tightened.

That day, in the north tower.

The moment the Mage touched it, the skeleton collapsed from the head down. As if a precariously fixed thread had been snapped. The ornate clothes slumped down, and all sorts of bones rolled around the chair.

Fine, let’s grant that. The problem was the Mage’s state.

As luck would have it, the skull of the skeleton was at the Mage’s feet, and the Mage was rambling something while looking down at it. The only words they could understand were ‘Your Highness,’ ‘head,’ and ‘blood.’

He looked as if he had suffered a great shock. So they tried to take him out first, but suddenly the Mage pushed Lucian away, vomited on the floor, and fainted.

Honestly, Lucian didn’t remember in what state of mind he had carried the Mage back to the West Wing. Lucian had been completely flustered, unlike himself… and after hesitating for a moment, he tried to call the royal physicians first, as Gosrick had advised. And then.

The Mage began to ‘delirium.’

[Father.]

It was Graphen language with perfect pronunciation.

[My father is innocent. He gave his full loyalty.]

“……”

[I do not know where he is. I truly do not. But my father is not a traitor.]

Grafen and Izelant shared a border, and learning the language of a neighboring country was practically a basic requirement for the ruling class. Naturally, all three men present were fluent in the Graphen language.

[My father only gave his loyalty to His Majesty, Your Highness the Regent Prince. He is not a traitor. Please save my father, I beg you. I plead with you.]

It was flawless, perfect Graphen royal court language.

The Mage’s green eyes were empty, and his gaze wandered through the air. His breathing was ragged, as if he might pass out at any moment, yet his speech remained precise.

The three men—no, Lucian… in that moment, he didn’t know what to do.

Then, when the Mage’s body began to burn with fever and his limbs started to convulse, he had to do something. He had a trusted royal attendant clean the north tower Mage’s room and called a royal apothecary to prepare antipyretics and sedatives.

Until a bucketful of sedatives was forced down his throat, the Mage continued to repeat the same words in Graphen. [Please save my father, he is not a traitor.]

He remained unconscious for a full day. The royal physicians who were called in one after another could not provide any meaningful diagnosis.

“Renata was right. That man is a Graphen Mage.”

Gosrick spoke heavily. Lucian smiled crookedly.

“Didn’t he say he was from Allohen? People from the border regions often become fluent in both languages.”

“Are you talking about Graphen royal court language in that backwater village?”

Gosrick raised his voice. There was a difference in grammar and vocabulary between the language of the commoners and the language of the nobility. In Grafen, where social distinctions were particularly strict, that difference was even more severe than in Izelant.

“Even if we were to trust a Graphen bastard, if it becomes known that you have a Graphen Mage by your side, there’s no telling what kind of blame you’ll be saddled with. Your Highness, this matter—”

“This matter!”

Lucian roughly cut Gosrick off.

“Does not leave this room.”

“……”

“You, you. And me.”

Long fingers wearing a heavy seal ring pointed to the three men in turn. Gosrick, Eydrick, and Lucian himself.

“Especially to Renata, do not utter a single word until I give permission. This is an order.”

“Your Highness!”

“I will hold you accountable if you disobey, Sir Gosrick.”

Lucian’s blue-gray pupils stared at Gosrick as if piercing him. Gosrick’s expression distorted.

“Your Highness, please. You clearly stated that there should be no secrets ‘among us.’ From Callot to here, what was the most—”

“Were you the one to set the principles? I can’t tell who is the lord and who is the vassal.”

“If you get entangled with a Graphen Mage, you could be implicated in the crime of foreign calamity!”

Gosrick suddenly raised his voice.