Chapter Four: The Alphabet, Magic, and the Intruder

For real...?

Herscherik was hit with an unexpected wall he was unsure how to climb. The day after Ruseria’s departure from this world, Herscherik had requested his father to commence his education. Knowledge is power, he thought. His father hadn’t questioned his request and had appointed him a tutor by the very next day.

First, Herscherik studied language arts. The alphabet of this world was similar to that of English, which Herscherik could get used to. English was one of Ryoko’s worst subjects during her school days, but practice made perfect. His language tutor had thoroughly complimented Herscherik for being such a quick learner despite his age.

I’m sorry, I’m actually square in the middle of my thirties. Herscherik silently apologized, experiencing some bizarre sensation of guilt.

Next, he studied math. While the numbers themselves looked different than those in his previous world, they also used a decimal system. Herscherik learned it with ease. Since he was an office worker in his previous life, he could do a lot of basic calculations in his head. After another round of incessant compliments, Herscherik began to internally apologize again. For some reason, he just couldn’t get used to it.

Herscherik recalled how bizarre it was to have gained consciousness at only one year of age and theorized that it was because he had been subconsciously listening in to the conversations around him before that point.

I bet I just hear the words of this world as Japanese.

Just as Ryoko had learned Japanese without a conscious effort, learning a language didn’t feel much like learning when it was your first. Herscherik theorized that the words he had been hearing since entering this world had seeped into him as his native language. Since he didn’t remember when he uttered his first words in his previous life, Herscherik felt confident in this conclusion.

I remember wishing I was American during English classes.

As he recalled his previous life and a series of nearly failed foreign language classes, Herscherik carried on with his studies in this life. He didn’t have any trouble with math, either. On the inside, he was a 35-year-old woman who had lived her fair share in the real world and had even spent some time obtaining various licenses and qualifications as a hobby. Herscherik knew how to study. Besides, he was only learning this world’s equivalent of first-grade material.

However, his streak wouldn’t last for long.

“Unfortunately...” the tutor said, apologetically. It wasn’t his fault, though. The issue lay with Herscherik. “Your Highness does not seem to have any Magic Within... the building block of casting spells.”

Herscherik froze for a moment in disbelief before screaming in his mind. No magic!? He was defeated. Not that he made the mistake of showing any of it, but he was secretly freaking out. Herscherik had been a little (well, to be honest, very) excited to learn magic, a fantastical element that didn’t exist in his previous world. More excited by this than any woman in her mid-thirties should have been about something relegated to the realm of fantasy... of course, he was only three in this new world. But this new life of his had showered him with cruelty once more. Herscherik had tried and failed one of the most basic spells, one that created a ray of light. He tried it over and over again only to produce precisely nothing.

“It is very, very rare...” According to his magic tutor, most people contained some amount of Magic Within. The spell that cast a ray of light was a spell that anyone with Magic Within could use. Apparently, his tutor had never seen someone like Herscherik before. He couldn’t conceal his dismay. “His Majesty had originally intended to become a scholar, but he was talented in magic, too...” Any real son of the king should be able to use magic, the tutor seemed to insinuate. Furthermore, he explained that the other princes and princesses were all extremely talented in magic. Herscherik would have guessed as much.

Fearing that the king was not his real father after all, the dejected Herscherik called to his busy father that night.

“Yes, your mother happened to be without magic, too. Look how much we look alike, Hersch. Of course we’re father and son,” his father said nonchalantly, albeit a bit indulgently. He stroked Herscherik’s hair while he was at it.

I’m sorry I ever doubted your fidelity. Herscherik profusely apologized in his mind to the mother he had never met. But a lot of the reincarnated protagonists in novels and comics had incredible magical powers. In the fiction that Ryoko had enjoyed, it was just par for the course if the protagonist had powerful magic and incinerated every bad guy in their path with raging fire spells. I mean, not like I’d do that if I could. Regrettably, he wasn’t facing enemies that could simply be burned away. Herscherik knew that there was no real solution that could be reached through violence in this situation.

Still, Herscherik grumbled in his sleep that night, utterly disappointed that he couldn’t use any magic.

Then, a shocking revelation followed, trampling all over the fantastical premises of the fictional genre Herscherik was accustomed to.

“I would call you ordinary, Your Highness...” the instructor of the Knights’ Order said, just as apologetically as the magic tutor had. He was the man that currently led all of the military’s training after retiring from the Knights’ Order, very skilled in discerning the strengths of his students. After some hesitation, the instructor looked directly at Herscherik, determined. Herscherik already had a bad feeling at this point. “I am sorry, Your Highness. But I will be honest. Your Highness has no talent whatsoever in either swordsmanship or horseback riding.”

Those with a keen eye for talent knew that the kindest thing to do for their pupils was to keep them from holding onto any unrealistic hope. According to his instructor, Herscherik could learn to wield a sword or ride a horse as much as the average man after putting in dedicated work. Becoming one of the best, however, was impossible.

“His Majesty is skilled with the sword as well as with magic...”

Herscherik felt like he was getting déjà vu. This time, he didn’t run to his father’s room at night, though.

...My softhearted father sure has some good stats. He pictured his father with his usual, gentle smile. Herscherik couldn’t imagine his father fighting with a sword or firing off magic spells.

It was then settled that Herscherik would learn the minimum swordsmanship and horseback riding required of his status. But even that, the instructor had warned him, would be difficult.

I wasn’t much for exercise in my previous life, but...

Herscherik slumped onto the couch in his room. He hadn’t expected all of his possible protagonist perks to be ruled out right off the bat. He’d had an inkling that this was the case, but now Herscherik was surer than ever that he was the runt of the royal family. If all the princes were characters in one of the romance games Ryoko used to play, she would have only gone for Herscherik to complete the set.

But I don’t have time to mope around.

There was nothing he could do about the things he wasn’t capable of. So, Herscherik was determined to do the things he could. Herscherik sat at the sofa by the well-lit window and opened the book he had borrowed from the library located within the royal quarters. It was definitely a children’s book, with many pictures and a large print that made for an easy read.

First things first, I have to learn to read.

While English wasn’t Ryoko’s forte, she always enjoyed reading. There had been several occasions when a foreign novel she had her eye on never got translated into Japanese, and she could do nothing but feel frustrated about it.

It was hard to make time when I had a job, but there’s plenty of that now that I’m a child.

He decided to read all the books it took to learn the language. Then he would do the same for math. From Ryoko’s experience, Herscherik knew that diving right into a subject would be the quickest way to improve.

From that day on, Herscherik spent most of the time outside of his tutoring sessions reading books on the couch by the window. Whenever there was something he didn’t know, he immediately asked Meria or his tutor, or he looked it up on his own. After dedicating himself to this for half a year, Herscherik could now at least read the words of a complex specialized book and knew what they meant.

Welcome to tonight’s episode of Midnight Investigative Journalism!

Herscherik silently narrated through the empty castle corridors at night like a TV journalist on a program Ryoko used to watch, holding the pocket watch up to his mouth in lieu of a microphone. After studying for half a year and having learned to read the language of this world, Herscherik was ready to make his next move.

Tonight, we’re diving into the Treasury Head Office, a cornerstone of our nation! Let’s go investigate!

Herscherik didn’t resort to narrating his way through the castle corridors like a TV host because he was afraid of the castle at night, or because he had discovered through his reading that evil spirits were a thing in this world... Not afraid at all, Herscherik kept telling himself.

It is pretty dark, though...

Herscherik timidly glanced to and fro. He couldn’t help but squeeze the pocket watch harder. Because of his urgent need to see Ruseria, he hadn’t realized the last time he was out that the castle corridors were not illuminated by anything but the moonlight pouring in through the windows.

In his previous life, the night was never too dark thanks to electric lights. In this world, though, there was no electricity. Only Floating Magic. Even though Herscherik couldn’t perform any magic himself, he did study the basics of it. One of the lessons was on Floating Magic. He had learned that two forms of magical power existed in this world: one stored within people and the other drifting through the air. The Magic Within was the equivalent of MP in video games. People expended this energy when they cast spells, and they recovered the energy by resting. The amount of Magic Within depended from person to person, and one could expand one’s maximum capacity through training.

Not me, though. Not the little magic-less prince.

Just as zero times one hundred was still zero, this wasn’t an option for Herscherik, who was born with no Magic Within whatsoever. In turn, the magical power in the air was called Floating Magic. This included all the magical fuel generated by the earth, sea, rivers, trees, etc. Just as trees generated oxygen through photosynthesis, all these things created magic. Floating Magic was then converted into various forms of energy: light to illuminate the streets or room, heat to boil water, cold air to cool a refrigerator, energy to move the water supply... In short, Floating Magic was like electricity that existed in the air.

It’s an incredibly eco-friendly energy source. Nature itself creates it, so there’s no pollution. There were no environmental issues in this world like the ones in Ryoko’s world. Although, Herscherik wondered if technology in this world just hadn’t evolved enough to be destructive to the planet.

He carried on down the corridor.

I finally made it... Herscherik looked up at the wooden door that looked exceedingly heavy. A sign on it read “First Treasury Office.” Herscherik pushed on the door with his tiny body. Since most doors in the castle were push-to-open, his short stature wasn’t a problem when it came to opening doors. There was a lock on the door, but it must have been left unlocked either by negligence or to allow access for the patrolling soldiers—fortunately for Herscherik. He made it into the room without an issue.

“Urgh...” As soon as he stepped into the room, Herscherik couldn’t help but groan. It was absurdly disorganized. What looked to be about ten desks put together were all stacked high with mountains of paper, all the piles converging with each other. At the other end of the room, he could see doors labeled “Storage,” “Head Treasurer,” and “Meeting Room.”

“How can you work with the place like this...?” Herscherik muttered out loud, Ryoko’s office-worker nature coming to the surface. Back at her job, Ryoko had kept every file in her computer meticulously organized, not to mention the top of her desk. She knew that organization led to efficient work. Not only was efficiency out of the window in this travesty of an office, but no one would even notice if some papers went missing. Herscherik braced his temples. This was the treasury of his nation at work.

“...Convenient for me, though.” With an office like this, no one would notice if some papers moved around or even disappeared. That would be to Herscherik’s advantage. “Time for some internal investigation.”

Ryoko had worked in finance for a time. While she’d worked in that department, she had assisted in inspecting branch locations. She looked into things like whether they were making any decisions that ought to be made by headquarters instead, whether they kept all of their books correctly, whether they made enough sales, and whether they were making all their payments on time, for example. Ryoko inspected those branches with the thoroughness of a mother-in-law inspecting a new bride’s handiwork in the kitchen. On account of her tendency for thorough investigation, refusal to accept any excuses, and the terror she rained upon certain particular branches, Ryoko was nicknamed “Ryo, the MIL from Hellquarters.” Even after leaving the finance department, her nickname and everyone’s fear of her remained. “Mother-in-law” was the more offensive part of the nickname to Ryoko, who had never had a boyfriend, much less a daughter-in-law. In her opinion, she was never mean about the results of her investigation. She knew that any discrepancy she found in those locations would only tighten the noose around that branch in the end. For their sake, she purposefully made herself stoic and thorough. Unbeknownst to her, Ryoko’s honest inspections and subsequent advice had earned her great trust from branch employees, managers, regional managers, and even from people within headquarters.

As he recalled such things, Herscherik plucked a piece of paper from one of the desk-top mountains.

“Mm. It’s still too dark...” He tried reading the paper but then gave up. He walked up to a window so he could read it under moonlight.

Let’s see... These are foods, I think.

The paper appeared to be the list of foods the castle purchased on a regular basis. Next to each food, the paper listed their source, prime season, and price.

“...Uh oh. I can’t tell if these prices are fair or not.” Herscherik groaned. He didn’t have the knowledge necessary to tell if any of those prices were above or below market price.

He had learned about the currency in this world through one of his classes. All the countries in the continent shared a unified currency consisting of only coins: bronze, silver, gold, and white gold. One hundred bronze coins equaled one silver coin, one hundred silver coins to one gold coin, and one hundred gold coins to one white gold coin. Since a large amount of money would become cumbersome, people used certificates when dealing with a large transaction. Certificates worked mostly like a personal check, except that it required government permission to use.

Even though Herscherik knew the units of currency, he didn’t know how much anything cost in this world. “...I better keep looking.” Numbers didn’t lie. When people tried to force numbers to lie, there would always be a crack in the facade somewhere. The only question was how subtle the crack was. Herscherik kept pulling papers out of the mountains and read them by the window.

The night was thickening, and Herscherik rubbed his eyes as his eyelids became heavier and heavier. Wondering how many hours he had been in the office, he checked his pocket watch to find that it was past midnight. He closed the watch and opened it again from sheer disbelief. Herscherik sighed, realizing that he couldn’t stay up late in this body like Ryoko used to. His eyes seemed to tire much more quickly when reading under moonlight, too. He massaged his eyes with his fingers.

“...I’ll need some sort of light in here.” As he considered borrowing a lantern from somewhere on his next trip, Herscherik played with the watch. “If only I could use that illumination spell.” If that were an option, he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of reading under the dim moonlight.

Recalling his magic lesson, he uttered the incantation. Incantations of magic were different from the spoken language of this world. Like Japanese to English or French, both the syllables and the spelling were completely foreign to one another. Herscherik had learned that magic spells were cast by uttering incantations and using one’s Magic Within. Those who used magic were called Spellcasters. A high-ranking Spellcaster, accordingly, could cast simple spells without incantations.

Even when Herscherik concluded the incantation, nothing happened.

“...Just kidding.”

There was nothing out of the ordinary about that result since he had no Magic Within. Still, Herscherik couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

When he stood up, ready to return to his room, he felt a sensation in his body. It was something akin to a shiver running through his right hand. In that instant, a white ball of light appeared before him. Herscherik nearly screamed at the sight of it and hurriedly covered his mouth. He was in the middle of a stealth mission, after all. Everything would be for naught if he ratted himself out like this. As he covered his mouth, he let go of the watch. The instant the pocket watch hit the floor and made a little clank, the ball of light was gone.

“...Huh?”

Confused, Herscherik picked up the watch. He thought that the silver pocket watch had been faintly illuminated while the ball of light was floating before him. He uttered the incantation again. After the shiver, the ball of light reappeared. Herscherik took a few steps while holding the watch, and the ball of light followed him by floating through the air, keeping a set distance between them. When Herscherik imagined putting out the light, the ball of light vanished without a sound. He set the watch down and tried the incantation again. No shiver nor ball of light. There was only one explanation Herscherik could think of. The pocket watch was collecting Floating Magic and had activated the illuminating spell at his incantation.

What an awesome item! That spell had done no more than create a small ball of light, but it was actual magic nonetheless. Herscherik was elated, realizing that the little shiver was the sensation of using magic. And it uses Floating Magic. It won’t wear me down! It felt like tearing open the seal of a freshly-purchased video game. Now this is fantasy! Herscherik silently cheered.

Herscherik returned to his room as jolly as could be.

The next day, he tried using a different spell, but the watch only stared back at him in silence. Of course, a watch couldn’t speak to him if it wanted to. After some consideration, Herscherik concluded that the watch only collected a miniscule amount of Floating Magic around it, allowing Herscherik to only use minor spells like creating a ball of light or igniting a candle.

It feels like a game I pre-ordered months in advance was a pile of garbage... Herscherik sulked. For the time being, though, he no longer had to strain his eyes by reading papers in the dark of night.

The moon was hidden behind the clouds that night, the lack of moonlight making room for darkness to seep throughout the castle grounds and completely conceal the existence of an intruder. He bypassed the patrolling soldiers with ease, making it to his destination without a sound.

This intruder was an operative of an underground guild. This agent served no particular master but made a living by contracting out his services, making him particularly valuable to those with their fingers in less-than-reputable businesses. He offered services that ranged from espionage and finding lost articles of an unscrupulous nature to outright assassination. While most of this agent’s achievements would never be made public, he was reliable in his work. Those who knew this man called him Shadow Fang. The moniker was derived from his signature style: approaching his targets as quiet as a shadow, never once being detected until the very moment his fangs dug into their neck. The moniker was a sign of respect for the underground agent who never had another name.

Not just anyone could afford to hire Shadow Fang. Underground guilds priced their offerings strictly based on the talent of their agents. Quite a large sum was required for the services of Shadow Fang, who was infamous enough to earn himself a moniker. Furthermore, it was up to his own discretion whether or not he would accept the job.

Tonight, he was tasked with retrieving a written report presented by a particular noble to the royal family. In his opinion, he was there to clean up the most amateurish mess imaginable. The noble had turned in the incriminating report he meant to keep hidden instead of the report he had forged specifically for the purpose of submitting it. The location he had to break into, however, was more than a little tricky. It was none other than the royal castle of the formidable nation that was Gracis. Security was tight, unlike most noble manors he had infiltrated before, and the magical barrier around its perimeters was top-notch. While Shadow Fang knew he would be able to make it inside, the castle was quite far down the list of places he would have chosen to break into.

Tsk. I slipped up, the intruder had to admit.

He had known that the task itself was nothing difficult when he heard the job description presented to him by his underground guild. He had accepted the job because the money was good for this kind of work, and he needed to fill his coffers after an unexpected expense. Only after signing the contract did his client disclose that he had to break into the royal castle itself.

That’s why no one jumped on such a high reward.

When it’s too good to be true... the intruder repeated internally. He spoke to the underground guild’s bookkeeper after accepting the gig to find out that his client was a noble disliked by those in the underground for his reputation of pulling similar tricks in the past. When he asked the bookkeeper why they had accepted a gig from someone like that in the first place, the response was typical. “The higher the reward, the better our cut.” It didn’t help that Shadow Fang was a lone wolf. Perhaps an ally would have cautioned him against taking the job... But there was no use crying over that now. No matter what trick his client had pulled, breaking the contract without just cause could negatively affect the prospects of future work. Underground or not, the livelihood of “independent contractors” like him was built on trust.

Now, he observed the particular room in the castle he had sneaked into, still frustrated for having fallen for his client’s trick.

The report’s supposed to be somewhere in this room... What is this mess?

Shadow Fang observed a large room that could seat twenty or so. Most every desk was piled high with stacks of paper, making the room feel smaller than it was. He suspected that finding one particular sheet of paper in this room would take some serious time and effort.

The intruder first walked up to the desk farthest from the door, assuming that it belonged to the department head. Hopefully, he might even find out which desks in the room were whose. That would considerably shorten his search time. The desk in the back of the room was relatively better organized and definitely of better make than the others. The intruder began efficiently rifling through the papers on the desk when he heard a sound from somewhere within the room. The intruder halted his rifling and drew his dagger before closely observing the room, end to end. He saw no one else—only the desktop mountain range of papers.

...Just my mind playing tricks on me, I guess, the intruder concluded, and sheathed his knife.

He reached for the next pile of papers on the desk before him, and froze. He was staring down at a face that had emerged from the under the desk.

“Um... Good evening?” A languid, childish voice greeted him.

With a confused look, the figure from under the desk stared back up at the intruder, forming a tableau of opposing symmetry in the dark office. The figure was none other than Herscherik, who was spending another night dauntlessly scaling the mountains of papers, reading one sheet at a time using his faint magical light under a desk in pursuit of his research. He was a month into this nocturnal investigation and had only just begun to understand the vague outlines of governmental entities and workflow. He was so enthralled with his reading that night that he didn’t even notice the intruder until he heard papers rustling on the desk above his head. Of course, Herscherik hadn’t expected anyone else to come here at this time of the night, and the intruder had not made a single sound until he touched those papers.

I don’t think he lives in the castle. He’s wearing all black...

Herscherik was looking up at the figure clad entirely in black as if he were trying to blend into the night, right down to a black cloth covering his mouth and a black hood drawn over his head. Only the intruder’s eyes peeked through. Those eyes were dimly lit by the cloud-shrouded moonlight coming through the window, but his irises almost seemed blood-red upon close inspection. Herscherik could easily tell by the intruder’s eyes that he was stiffened with surprise.

I wouldn’t know what to do if some random kid crawled out like this, either, Herscherik thought, chuckling in his mind.

Neither of their situations were going to improve by spending more time staring at each other.

“Um, you’re going to get in trouble.”

Herscherik opened his pocket watch. The night patrol would have almost reached the office by now. Just as he checked the time, Herscherik could hear footsteps coming down the hallway. The intruder was clearly unnerved. After a moment’s hesitation, Herscherik leaped into action. He swiftly placed the papers he was reading back where he had found them, slipped by the mysterious man, and exited out to the hallway. The intruder snapped out of his surprise—he would have been able to react quicker if he hadn’t been so taken aback by the completely unexpected encounter. By the time he tried to restrain Herscherik for fear of the child notifying a castle guard, Herscherik was already out in the hallway.

...I could take care of the night patrol, along with the kid.

He preferred not to kill children, but now that the child had seen him, Shadow Fang was left with no choice. With a quick flick of his wrists, a pair of daggers appeared in his hands. Trying to approach them from behind, he peeked out into the hallway to find a soldier and the child in conversation. More accurately, the soldier was scolding the child.

“Prince Herscherik, how many times must I ask you to refrain from your nighttime adventures!?”

“I-I’m sorry...!”

The intruder was frozen once more at the bizarre sight of the child (a prince!) apologizing as a soldier, the prince’s subject, scolded him as if the prince was his own son.

“I’ll walk you back to your room. If I find you out at night again, I will notify His Majesty.”

“Okay! I’ll make sure you won’t find me next time!”

“Prince Herscherik...” The soldier sighed and began leading the prince down the hall.

His tone was still that of a father talking to his son. Shadow Fang could easily imagine the resigned chuckle on the soldier’s face. Herscherik let the soldier take a few steps before turning around and giving the intruder a smile and a wave. Then, the prince caught up with the soldier and engaged in a bit of small talk. The guard’s full attention was now on the child.

After that chain of unexpected events, the intruder could only watch motionless as the child and the guard walked away. He couldn’t get those events out of his mind as he searched for the prized piece of paper all through the night. Dawn came before the intruder could find what he was looking for, forcing him to retreat for the time being.

Herscherik, the Seventh Prince of Gracis, was the king’s youngest and most beloved son. Back during his third birthday ball in early spring, a certain count’s acts of treason had come to light, which became the talk of the nation for a while. That incident and his birth were the only times Herscherik’s name ever entered the public consciousness. Even at his birth, the people of the kingdom didn’t pay him much mind. He was the Seventh Prince, after all. By that time, the people had celebrated more than two dozen royal events under the current king. The nation was plagued with enough corruption that the people were more concerned about putting food on their tables than any one act of treason, too.

This was the gist of the information Shadow Fang had obtained in his underground guild’s headquarters.

“Was he seriously a prince?”

Sneaking into an office at night to look something up?

That night, the intruder’s curiosity would get a few more answers.

“Good evening... Mister Intruder?”

When he infiltrated the same office again that night, the very same child was waiting for him by the window. Unlike the previous night, the room was illuminated by ample moonlight. The child’s blond locks shone with mystique, further accentuated by his glimmering blue eyes. Shadow Fang detected no animosity from those eyes, but the young prince standing there at this time of the night was an inexplicable sight. The intruder instinctively drew his dagger.

Herscherik quickly waved his hands in show of non-resistance. “W-Wait a minute! No one else is here. And the guards won’t come by for another hour. Don’t worry.”

“...What do you want from me?” the intruder growled, not dropping his guard.

However, Herscherik seemed relieved that the intruder was willing to hear him out. “I want to ask you something.” He then produced a piece of paper. The intruder looked it over without sheathing his dagger. It was an order for military supplies, a cornerstone of their national defense. The intruder looked at the prince, perplexed. Herscherik added with a serious expression, “Are these prices more or less than market price?”

Shadow Fang’s thought process ground to a halt, as he couldn’t discern why the prince could possibly be asking him this. He answered honestly. “More than double.”

Depends on the quality, but these prices are an absolute rip-off, he silently added.

Shadow Fang lived among ordinary citizens by day, so he frequented the market like everyone else. Every single item on that paper had been absurdly marked up.

Herscherik, having somewhat expected this answer, sighed and scratched his head. “I thought so... I expected a bit of markup, but...” Herscherik mumbled on to himself for a while before letting out another loud sigh and turning to the intruder. “Thank you. No one in the castle would give me a straight answer. Oh, I’m Herscherik, by the way. What’s your name?”

“...I don’t have one,” the intruder answered. He didn’t know why he had answered so honestly. It just seemed ridiculous to be on guard around Herscherik, who carried neither fear nor malevolence about him as he smiled at the intruder like they were old friends.

“Then... I think I’ll call you Kuro.”

That was the name of Ryoko’s big black dog she’d had while living at her parents’ house. The neighborhood children were intimidated by the dog and cried at the sight of him, but Kuro was a gentle and friendly dog who seldom even barked. Ryoko’s trusty hound was the first thing that came to mind when Herscherik initially saw the intruder clad in black from head to toe.

“What are you doing here, Kuro? I would like to thank you in some way.”

“You know I broke in here, right?” The intruder, Kuro, could not understand how the prince could speak to him without a shred of caution.

After seeing the look in Kuro’s eyes, Herscherik looked up to the ceiling with a little uh huh. “I know how good you are at that from the fact that you’ve made it into the castle. If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it the first time we met. Since I’m still alive, I figured that you have some other objective.”

I’m sure you could chop my head off in the blink of an eye.

Herscherik was well aware that he had no chance in a fight. Still, he needed someone with information on the outside world. Meria didn’t answer any of his questions, he couldn’t bother his overworked father, and he dared not ask any of the ridiculously prim-and-proper queens. As for his siblings, they attended the academy during the day and Herscherik rarely saw them. In any case, he thoroughly doubted that any of them would sincerely answer a three-year-old.

“We’re accomplices now. I mean, I don’t want to die. To be honest, I’ll give you whatever you want if it’ll get you out of here sooner.” Herscherik formed a smile.

Herscherik had simply spilled his guts, but Kuro saw his smile as somehow dauntless. Still, as an inhabitant of the underworld, Kuro had a policy of taking advantage of everything he could. Without sharing any information relating to his client, he told the prince what kind of report he was looking for and when it must have been turned in.

Herscherik pondered for a few moments before pointing to a particular pile of papers. “Probably somewhere in all those unprocessed papers, then.”

Dubious, Kuro rummaged through the pile to quickly find the paper he was looking for.

“That’s the one, isn’t it? I thought some of the details and numbers were off... That’s fixed in the new report, I’m sure.” Herscherik’s knowing response was met with a sharp glance from Kuro, but the prince only shrugged in response.

Later on, Kuro would conclude that the prince only gave up the paper because he had already read through it. If Kuro had been after a paper the prince hadn’t yet seen, he would have bought time before giving it up, and if the paper contained something important to the little prince, he would have tried to saddle Kuro with an inconsequential paper instead. Kuro would later become certain that this was how the prince would have acted, had circumstances been different.

As Kuro continued giving him an inquisitive look, Herscherik grinned and added, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. No one would believe a little kid like me if I did... Not yet, anyway.” The smile on his face was unbecoming of a child his age.

After making it out of the castle, Kuro went and shoved the paper he’d retrieved into his client’s face in exchange for his reward. This incident would only bolster his reputation and result in a huge influx of castle-infiltration gigs coming his way. Kuro had no intention of stepping foot in the castle again, but he still couldn’t get the little prince out of his mind. He would continue to take these quests now and again and run into the same prince in the most unexpected of places.