Chapter Eight: The Return, the Illness, and the Repeat of the Tragedy

Despite it being the afternoon, the castle town was dreary. The voices of the shop owners were lifeless as they tried to attract customers, and the people of the town would look at each other anxiously before glancing toward the castle. Just the other day they had received the surprising news that the Seventh Prince Herscherik had defeated the imperial army a hundred thousand strong with less than twenty thousand men of his own.

Before then, the townspeople had been in low spirits after hearing a rumor that the capital had lost contact with the expedition, and that the prince had gone missing, but upon receiving the uplifting news the mood had turned joyous as celebratory toasts were exchanged at the pubs. But out of nowhere, as if to mock the people eagerly awaiting the prince’s return, they had received more terrible news: King Solye Gracis, 23rd king, had fallen ill.

Immediately upon hearing the news, the minds of the people had turned to the tragedy that had befallen the royal family over twenty years prior. The previous king, referred to as the Wise King, along with two princes, had fallen ill and ultimately passed away. Ever since then, life had become difficult for the people of Gracis. A foolish king, nobles and authorities that preyed upon the people, obsequious officials and rich folk... The people feared that those difficult days might be upon them once more.

“What’s that?”

The owner of a shop noticed a cloud of dust in the distance, past the main thoroughfare. Straining his eyes, he could see a man with sunset-colored hair and a white knight’s uniform fluttering as he spurred on his horse. Behind him followed a group of lightly equipped knights, similarly mounted. They yelled instructions to make way as they sprinted down the thoroughfare without slowing down. At the tail end of the procession ran a single carriage, adorned with the royal crest of a shining sun.

“Has the prince returned?!”

Prince Herscherik had indeed returned. The news spread throughout the town in the blink of an eye.

Paying the trembling castle town no heed, Herscherik’s carriage passed through the front gate as it headed toward the castle. It had been only ten days since they left the border fort. Herscherik had traveled home at a speed that far exceeded his speed when he set off.

The carriage stopped, and Herscherik immediately opened the doors himself and leaped outside. Herscherik, who would normally never run in the corridors, dashed at such speed that the officials who had been waiting for him were forced to jump out of the way. He heard footsteps behind him as he ran into the castle, but he did not need to turn around to know that they belonged to his men of service. He sprinted across a passageway and into the royal quarters, never even glancing to the side as he rushed toward his father’s room.

However, someone stopped him in his path. It was the royal family doctor.

“Please wait, Prince Herscherik!”

“Doctor?!”

As Herscherik typically came down with a fever a few times a year, he was well acquainted with the doctor. The old physician would usually speak with a gentle smile on his face, but now he had a stern expression as he tried to keep Herscherik out.

“Your Highness, you must not!”

“Please move out of the way!” Herscherik shouted in response, his voice almost unimaginably loud. Hearing his strained tone, the doctor almost stepped aside, but he stopped himself.

“His Majesty is currently suffering from an unknown illness. If something were to happen to Your Highness as well—”

But Herscherik did not wait to hear the end of the sentence; he swiftly ran past the doctor and threw open the door to his father’s room.

The smell of paper filled the room. There were piles of paperwork on a desk, and it was clear that his father had been working day and night. As Herscherik looked around the room, the sofa by the fireplace came into view. He was reminded of the time he sat on that sofa as he pleaded with his father to save the count. His father’s face from that day flashed into his mind, further fueling his worry. He shook his head from side to side in an attempt to shake off his dark thoughts as he entered the bedroom.

“Father!”

As Herscherik flung open the door, he could feel the air in the room trembling, and the smell of medicine tickled his nose. The bedroom was dark, and the air felt tense.

“Prince Herscherik...”

Herscherik heard his name and turned toward the source of the voice to find Rook holding a metal bucket and a towel. Rook looked at Herscherik for a moment, but quickly turned his gaze downward. Herscherik couldn’t help but grow even more worried at the sight.

“Rook, how is Father...?”

Rook remained quiet, only looking across the room. Herscherik followed his gaze to an extravagant bed, seemingly occupied. He steeled himself and started toward the bed. Taking one step after another over the soft carpet, he could hear a faint breathing as he drew closer to the bed. He stopped next to the pillow and gasped as he looked down.

I can’t believe how thin he’s become...

His father had always been the slender type, but not underweight. He might have looked fragile at a glance, but he was actually more sturdy than he looked in clothing and could easily lift up his own weight—not to mention that Rook had always paid close attention to the king’s health. Herscherik had never even seen his father sick before.

Now, however, he was lying in bed, his cheeks hollow and so pale that he was almost pure white.

“Father...” Herscherik called out to his father in a quiet voice and then shut his lips in a tight line.

He had last seen his father on the day of the departure ceremony, when he had received the grand marshal’s staff as the king’s proxy. Only about a month had passed since then, yet his father looked as if he had aged many years since they last met.

Seemingly sensing the paralyzed Herscherik, Solye opened his closed eyes, revealing eyes the same emerald color as his son, and looked at Herscherik.

“Hersch...?” His voice sounded weak, as if he was only half awake. He reached out with his hand, which Herscherik instinctively grabbed with both hands. Solye blinked a few times before realizing that he wasn’t dreaming, and then gave a weak smile.

“Welcome back... It’s a relief to see that you’re safe...” His voice was weak, yet he was as kind as ever, showing concern for his son despite the amount of pain he must have been in. Herscherik felt his chest tightening, and he found it difficult to breathe as he grimaced in sadness.

“You shouldn’t be here, Hersch...” Solye continued. “Didn’t the doctor tell you?”

Herscherik shook his head as he held onto his father’s hand.

“I have to be here.”

“Hersch...” Solye gave a pained smile as Herscherik, who was usually very obedient for a child his age, dismissed his concerns.

Solye slowly sat up, as Rook immediately stepped in to help him, placing pillows behind him to make it more comfortable for him and laying a coat over his shoulders to prevent him from freezing. Solye turned to his butler and childhood friend and silently thanked him with his gaze, after which he patted his youngest son on his head using his free hand.

“I’m so, so happy to see that you’re safe...”

Despite the pain he was in, emotionally he felt the exact opposite of what he’d experienced when he’d heard Herscherik had gone missing. Solye then said what he had sworn to tell him the next time they met.

“Listen to me, Hersch. You have to flee the castle.”

“What?” Taken aback, Herscherik looked up at Solye. His expression was a mix of surprise and bewilderment.

“You can survive without being a prince.”

“Father, what are you...?” Herscherik shook his head, unable to grasp what his father was saying. But Solye continued trying to persuade his son.

“I’ve already spoken to your mother’s parents in the event of an emergency. They resent me, but they have promised to take care of you, their daughter’s son.”

Solye had stolen their beloved only daughter from them. In reality, she had married Solye of her own free will, but as far as her parents were concerned it was no different from having their daughter stolen away. Even after Herscherik was born, they had refused to respond to any invitations to come see him, and this was the first time that Solye had received a response to any of his communications with them.

“I’ve also spoken to Marquis Aldis, so you should be fine.”

The head of the Aldis family, Roland, was fond of Herscherik. In addition, his son Octavian was none other than Herscherik’s own knight of service. Thus, the Aldis family had sworn to protect him, even if he were to relinquish his title of prince.

And I doubt Barbosse would want to make an enemy out of the Aldis family... For the sake of his own interests, Barbosse had entrapped and ruined any nobles that stood in his way. However, he could not lay his hands on someone like Roland Aldis, a former general whose reputation was not even bound by national borders. While no longer on active duty, his name still held tremendous influence. There was nothing to gain and everything to lose for Barbosse from attempting to harm the Aldis family, Solye thought.

Solye’s father and brothers had not even lasted a month after they had fallen ill. His young daughter had died within days. The next time the king closed his eyes, he might not open them ever again.

Solye moved his hand from Herscherik’s head to his cheek.

“Hersch, I love you. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself for this country.”

Solye knew that his son had been neglecting his own health as he devoted himself to his family and his country, yet all Solye had been able to do was to watch from afar, unable to protect him.

“Father!” Herscherik shouted, almost screamed. He put his hand on his father’s, and shook his head to object.

“Your Highness, it’s about time...” Rook spoke as he noticed Solye had started to look even worse than before. But Herscherik only shook his head back and forth like a pendulum, his eyes tearing up. Herscherik’s men of service were unable to enter the king’s private room, so they had waited outside the room; Rook himself did not have it in him to force the prince away from the room in his current state.

As Rook pondered what to do, he sensed someone approaching. The person noticed Rook looking at him and nodded once before walking up behind Herscherik and picking him up before he could notice. Surprised, Herscherik turned his gaze from his father to the person holding him and found himself looking at a familiar face.

“Hersch, we’re leaving.”

“Mark...” Hearing his brother’s stern voice, Herscherik finally resigned and agreed. “All right.”

Herscherik left the bedroom, still carried by his brother, and then exited his father’s private chambers. Once outside, his brother set him down again, and Herscherik remained silent as his men of service threw him concerned glances.

Marx suggested that they return to the outer quarters for now. Partway there, Oran left to handle the soldiers who had returned with them; Shiro left as well, saying he had something to take care of. Kuro then went to the kitchen to prepare some tea, so when Herscherik arrived at his room on the third floor, he found himself alone with his brother. Herscherik let out a deep sigh as he sank into the living room sofa; Marx entered the room and leaned against the wall right next to the door.

“Hersch, it’s good to see you’re back safe. If not for the current situation, we’d be holding a celebration right about now,” his brother said, attempting to sound as cheerful as possible, but this only served to inspire suspicion in Herscherik. He knew Marx the best out of all of his siblings, and his brother had a habit of smiling while furrowing his brow whenever he was trying to hide something.

“Mark, exactly what are you trying to hide? Where’s Will?” Herscherik realized that he hadn’t seen any of his siblings other than Marx. William should have been on the castle grounds, and Herscherik found it hard to believe that the triplets and Eutel would be attending the academy while their father was bedridden.

Marx looked away at first, but soon let out a small sigh of resignation.

“Will, Arya, Reinette, Cecily, and Eutel... they have fallen ill too. Eutel in particular was slow to show any symptoms, but he’s in a rather bad state now. My mother and the other queens are similarly ill, although their symptoms are slow compared to the others.”

“No...”

As Herscherik was at a loss for words, Marx continued.

“We haven’t informed Meno, who’s receiving treatment away from the capital, and Tessily who’s studying abroad. We need to preserve the bloodline if worst comes to worst, you see. We were planning on keeping you in the dark too, but then someone went and informed you... on the minister’s order.”

Herscherik remained quiet as his brother’s frown deepened. He had been lured here as part of the minister’s next scheme.

“Hersch, you need to leave the castle like Father said, before you fall sick too. No, before he makes his next...” Marx trailed off as his body started to sway back and forth. Still leaning against the wall, he slowly slid onto the floor.

“Mark?!” Herscherik leaped to his feet, but just as he was about to dash over to his brother, Marx held up a hand to tell him to stop.

“I’m... fine...”

However, Herscherik ignored his brother, ran up to him and took his hand. It was frighteningly cold. Next he placed his free hand on his brother’s forehead, only to find that it was instead burning hot.

A fever!

Herscherik immediately ran out of his room to try to find someone to help. At the end of the corridor, he ran across Oran, who had just arrived.

“Oran! Hurry!”

Sensing that something was amiss, Oran started running, as Kuro—who must have heard Herscherik’s voice—peeked out from around the corner of the corridor.

“Kuro! Get the doctor!”

Kuro nodded and started running in the opposite direction from Oran, down the stairs. Herscherik quickly returned to his room, where his brother was still sitting on the floor leaning against the wall, and he took his brother’s hand again.

“Hersch...” Marx said to his youngest brother, feeling his hand wrap around his. “You have to survive, at least...”

Herscherik didn’t respond, only clutching his brother’s cold hand even tighter. Oran supported Marx on his shoulder as they headed to Marx’s room and left him in the care of his butler of service—who would later turn out to be a relative of Rook’s—after which Herscherik ran out of the room as soon as the doctor showed up. He wanted to stay with his brother, but not only would he not be any help in the examination, he would likely just get in the way. Instead he went back to his own room. An hour later, Kuro went to check up on Marx, and relayed his condition to Herscherik.

“Kuro, how was Mark?”

“He’s just taken some medicine and has calmed down a bit, but...” Kuro’s facial expression was more telling than his words. Oran gripped the hilt of his sword, and his expression tensed.

“I see,” Herscherik said from the sofa, his default position in his room, as he closed his eyes.

He recalled what his father and brother had said to him.

“I refuse to run,” he muttered as if trying to convince himself.

Three days after Marx fell ill, an eerie silence had fallen over the castle, and for good reason; the king, the crown prince—every member of the royal family was bedridden except for Herscherik, and it was difficult for anyone to feel optimistic. The people who were present during the previous king’s reign in particular remembered the previous tragedy of the royal family and shivered with fear.

After Marx fell ill, Herscherik was barred from seeing any of his family members. Not only was he the only remaining healthy member of the family in the capital, he was also very popular with the masses after having returned victorious from his expedition. If a prince like him were to succumb to illness as well, there was no telling what would become of the country. The officials would only bow apologetically to the much younger prince, and Herscherik was unable to do as he wished.

As the officials were in charge of government affairs while the king was out of commission, there was not much for Herscherik to do—nor did he have the willpower to do anything, as time simply passed. He sat on the sofa by the window, looking up at the beautiful sky, sometimes letting out a deep sigh. His men of service observed him with worried looks on their faces, but not knowing what to say, the room remained quiet.

Breaking the silence, Kuro suddenly announced that an official in charge of the constabulary wished to see him.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” The official greeted Herscherik humbly before hesitantly continuing. “You see... The townspeople have gathered together and are requesting to see you.”

“What?” Herscherik was left dumbfounded by the unexpected development. As Herscherik struggled to process this turn of events, the man continued.

“Earlier, the townspeople showed up at the castle, seemingly worried about you, the very day after you left for battle.”

He continued to explain how dozens of people had crowded the castle gates after Herscherik had gone missing, and how General Aldis, who by sheer luck had been present, had calmed them down.

“But now, word’s gotten out that the royal family has fallen ill, and ever since the day you returned there have been people showing up every day, asking about your safety.”

Having been cooped up in his room ever since he returned, Herscherik had been completely unaware of the situation outside, and was baffled. At the same time, he found the man’s report difficult to believe.

“Is that... true?”

“Yes. They have already become a hindrance to our work. Your Highness, I’m terribly sorry, but won’t you meet with the townspeople and calm them down?”

Herscherik nodded incredulously in response to the troubled man.

Less than an hour later, as Herscherik arrived at the front gate which led to the castle town, he saw that the man had spoken the truth.

Leading from the front gate to the castle doors was a cobblestone road where you could get on and off carriages, flanked by perfectly-maintained shrubs and flowerbeds as well as stone statues. It was a magnificent gate worthy of the great kingdom of Gracis. It was usually a place that nobles, high officials, and diplomats from other countries passed through, but now it was overflowing with ordinary citizens from the castle town. Old and young, men and women, all sorts of people filled the plaza. Herscherik couldn’t believe his eyes as he beheld the spectacle.

Oran placed a hand on the shoulder of the frozen Herscherik and pushed him forward. As he did, a man at the very front noticed Herscherik and raised his voice.

“Everyone! Prince Herscherik is here!”

In the space of a moment, the people flocked to Herscherik.

“You’re not hurt, are you? Are you all right?” asked the lady from the general store. When he’d wandered the town as Ryoko, she would always carefully explain how to use the various tools in her shop.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay! How’s the king faring? Uh, I mean... Is His Majesty well, Your Highness?” the cheerful greengrocer asked as he awkwardly corrected himself to be more polite. He would always show Herscherik all kinds of unfamiliar and strange vegetables, and would even let him have a taste sometimes.

“Also, nothing bad happened while you were away, did it? We were so worried when we heard you went missing!” This charming voice belonged to the madam of the red-light district. Herscherik had first met her when he and Oran had saved her from an overly-persistent nobleman’s attempts at seduction—and as a night worker, she would normally be catching a few precious winks of sleep at this time of day.

“Ryoko! Ryoko!”

“Are you okay? Feeling all right? Are you okay?”

Herscherik looked down as he felt someone tugging on his clothes, to find the children he often used to play with looking up at him. Their parents warned them, “That’s Prince Herscherik, not Ryoko!” but the children only looked bewildered.

“Everyone...” Herscherik felt something welling up from inside him, but suppressed it. “But why? I... I’ve been lying to you the whole time.”

He’d been afraid that they would abandon him if they knew he was royalty. While he’d known that he would have to come clean one day, he had also wanted to spend as much time as he could with them. As a result, he had kept his true identity hidden until it finally became impossible.

The people exchanged glances at the sight of the perplexed Herscherik.

“Well, that’s... you know?”

“Yeah, you know?”

The townspeople racked their brains, unable to find the right words. Suddenly a large-bellied woman appeared, squeezing through the crowd.

“Well, Ryoko—Prince Herscherik—that’s because we all love you.”

“Louise?! And your husband too? Are you sure you should be walking around like this?”

Louise gave her usual smile in response to Herscherik, whose first reaction had been to worry about her and her baby.

“I’m really sorry, Prince Herscherik, for all the things we’ve said, even if we didn’t know.”

The lively castle town had also been brimming with discontent toward the royal family and the nobility—yet in spite of that, Herscherik had always worn a smile as bright as the sun. As Louise thought about how he must have felt listening to all those dissatisfied voices, her heart ached.

“But that’s...”

Given how horribly the government had treated them, Herscherik understood full well why they felt the need to voice their dissatisfaction. He knew that they spent their days enduring terrible oppression. And while they suffered, the royals and nobility would look down upon the people from above, spending their time indulging in their lavish lifestyles.

“Besides, I let a lot of people die...”

Herscherik had had no means of stopping the war. His only remaining option had been to outwit Barbosse and the empire by preparing for the worst and attempting to minimize the casualties as best he could. Even so, it had been impossible to prevent every death; although statistically he had been able to reduce them compared to previous battles, that was only looking at it from afar. After the ambush, Roy had lamented the loss of his comrades. Even if that was the duty of a soldier, an overwhelming sense of powerlessness assaulted Herscherik as he thought back to the people who had lost their lives and their families. He didn’t want to sacrifice anyone, and he had no intention of doing so either. But in reality, people still died. Trapped between his ideals and reality, Herscherik’s powerlessness tormented him.

“But you did everything you could, Prince Herscherik.”

Louise kneeled in front of Herscherik, his gaze kept on the ground, despite how difficult it must have been for her with her large belly; she then laid her hands on Herscherik’s cheeks and turned his face upwards.

“You’re the reason that this country has become more bearable recently, aren’t you?”

Louise smiled and removed her hands from Herscherik’s face, as the people around them nodded in agreement.

“That’s right! You’ve always been helping everyone, nobles and commoners alike!”

They knew that the young noble boy called Ryoko had been going around town, a black-haired man and an orange-haired knight in tow. He had seemed almost like the Prince of Light that the bards sang about—in fact, some even suspected that they were one and the same.

“It’s very sad to think about the people who died. Some might resent you for that, but... You know, there are also many people who are only alive because of you.”

Herscherik felt a large hand on his head. Looking up, he saw an imposing, bearlike figure—it was Louise’s husband, the owner of the fruit shop.

“Everyone has to die someday. But there’s no reason why you should shoulder every death. Just do your best not to forget them, and not to let them have died in vain.”

“Owner...” Herscherik was surprised at hearing the usually quiet shop owner speak, but at the same time he felt the sense of powerlessness that had been gnawing at him soften slightly.

“Gotta say, everything fell into place when I learned Ryoko was a prince.”

“Yeah, he’s nothing like those haughty nobles!”

“I started feeling like maybe this country isn’t all that bad after all.”

“And like we need to do something to help too!”

As he listened to the townspeople speaking one after the other, a genuine smile surfaced on his face. He had come back to the place he’d thought he’d left behind forever. Not only that, but they had even comforted him.

Herscherik once again felt someone tugging on his clothes. He looked down to find the children from earlier looking worried.

“If you’re a prince, does that mean we won’t get to see you anymore?”

“No! I want to play with Ryoko!”

The children clung to Herscherik, teary-eyed. He hugged the children back.

“Thank you... Thank you so much...” Herscherik said from the bottom of his heart.

He had always wanted to protect these children, but in truth, perhaps they were the ones who had been protecting him and his heart. His desire to protect them grew even stronger.

I want to protect them. I want to be here... I want to be a true prince. This place, where he had been reborn, was his true home now. Herscherik smiled as he was surrounded by the townspeople. It was the same smile that the noble boy they had once known as Ryoko used to give.

Watching Herscherik from a distance, Vivi breathed a sigh of relief. When he’d visited the orphanage the day before the expedition had set off, there had been something strange about him. He’d had the look of someone who understood everything and steeled himself for something. But Vivi had been too preoccupied with herself at the time and had missed the opportunity to question him.

After pressing Roland for an explanation, he confessed that Herscherik had sworn him to secrecy so as not to worry Vivi and the other orphans unnecessarily. Vivi had felt like crying over her own inadequacy, and when she heard that Herscherik had gone missing, she had been gripped by a deep sense of regret. Why was she always the one being protected, she’d wondered. For once, she wanted to protect him too.

This time around, she’d seen him come back alive. But what about next time?

The next time something happened to him, would she be by his side? Would she be able to save him? Would she be able to protect him? What must she do to stand beside him?

“Vivi, are you sure you don’t want to say hello to him?” Colette, standing next to Vivi, asked curiously. “You were so restless about it until yesterday.”

“Yeah. I’m happy just to have been able to confirm that he’s all right.”

She didn’t need him to notice her. As long as he was alive, Vivi would be happy.

Not today, perhaps... But one day, I swear! She would fulfill the promise she made the day she gave up on her father, her home and her name. She had renewed her resolve.

“Rick, thanks for bringing me here,” Vivi said to Rick, who also stood beside them. He had dragged Vivi out here by the hand after she had spent the whole morning fidgeting nervously.

Rick himself only cast Herscherik a quick glance before frowning and deliberately looking away.

“Let’s head back then.”

Vivi started walking, and Rick followed. Colette looked back and forth between the two children and Herscherik, before running after them herself. Herscherik did not notice Vivi leaving.

After the clinging children released him, Herscherik turned to address the townspeople, but Louise suddenly held up one hand, her other hand on her belly.

“I’m really sorry to spoil the moment, but...”

“Louise?”

“Once I’d calmed down after seeing you safe... I felt a contraction. I think... I’m going into labor.”

The mood immediately froze over.

Once things had turned busy after Louise’s proclamation the day prior, she had soon after given birth to a healthy girl. Herscherik, who had ended up witnessing the birth by chance, had been as happy as the parents themselves upon seeing the baby.

Today, however, Herscherik was frowning as he looked at Kuro. His butler had just announced a visitor—it was the minister himself.

“Fine. Show him in,” Herscherik told Kuro as he squeezed the silver pocket watch in his hand.

Soon, Kuro led the minister inside, and Herscherik felt as though the air in the room had grown tense. He was now alone in the room with Barbosse. Kuro and Oran had asked to sit in on the meeting, but Herscherik had declined and was now confronting him one on one.

“Your Highness, my sincere condolences,” the minister said with a mournful expression as he bowed his head. However, anyone who understood the circumstances would know that this was nothing but a façade.

Herscherik found Barbosse’s conduct laughable, but refrained from clucking his tongue. Instead, he reached for the watch in his pocket.

“You can skip the pretenses,” Herscherik spoke in a cold voice, giving the minister a piercing glance. “That’s not why you’re here. I don’t need your idle chatter. Just tell me what you came for.”

The minister raised his head and narrowed his hazel eyes as he looked down on Herscherik.

“Hmph, you detestable brat.”

“I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” Herscherik snapped back. Barbosse scoffed disagreeably in response.

“Prince, if you do exactly as I say, I’ll spare that family of yours.”

“You’ll ‘spare’ them? You do realize that you’re basically admitting to being the one hurting them in the first place?”

“We were skipping the pretenses, were we not?” Barbosse smirked wily as Herscherik glared at him furiously.

He must be convinced that he has the upper hand and has decided to reveal himself. Holding the lives of Herscherik’s father and brothers in his hands, Barbosse was confident that he had an overwhelming advantage. So without even attempting to hide anything, he threatened the prince openly.

Herscherik clasped the pocket watch he was holding even tighter.

“What will it be?” the minister asked, smiling contently as he watched the prince’s anguished expression.

“Just tell me two things,” Herscherik spoke in a strained voice. “Did you frame Klaus?”

“Klaus?”

“Count Ruseria, the person you framed during my third birthday.”

“Oh, that fellow,” Barbosse recalled and nodded. “If he’d only learned his lesson after he lost his wife and child. A truly foolish man, he was. He simply refused to keep quiet, blathering on about the good of the country. I did manage to put him to good use, though. Since he was so kind as to round his own people up for me, he made cleaning up very easy. Thanks to him, there was no need to go to great lengths to find all the people who were in my way.”

Barbosse smiled scornfully.

Hearing the minister’s answer, Herscherik put even more force into the hand that was holding the pocket watch. He did not let it show on his face, however, as he asked his second question.

“Why.... Why did you kill Jeanne, your own daughter?”

“I killed Jeanne? I am told she died protecting you, Your Highness.”

Herscherik threw the minister a piercing glance, but the minister simply tilted his head in bemusement before speaking as nonchalantly as if he was discussing the weather.

“I simply rid myself of a pawn I no longer needed.”

“And you call yourself her father?!”

“She was the only one who claimed that. If she truly was my daughter, she’d never have acted so foolishly.”

He had never thought of her as his daughter to begin with. He had simply used her and then thrown her aside. Hearing this, Herscherik gritted his teeth, but Barbosse simply gave a gloating smirk.

“Are those all of your questions? Then it’s your turn to do what I tell you. First of all, yes... Why don’t you become king?”

He wanted to once again install a puppet that would do his bidding. Herscherik had the support of the people. If he were to become king, the people would stop voicing their discontent, if only for a while. Barbosse planned to have Solye step down, citing his illness, and have the other princes similarly remove themselves from the line of succession. If anyone voiced opposition, it was only a matter of stomping them out.

“But before that, how about you return the thing that girl gave you.”

“This is...” Herscherik reflexively touched his earring as he took a step back. Barbosse held out his hand.

“I know what she took with her. I’d hoped to just erase it along with you... The condition was that you would do my bidding, yes?”

With a frustrated grimace, Herscherik removed the earring and handed it to Barbosse, who hadn’t given him any other choice.

“Ah, yes, and then there’s the question of... Roy Bildt, I believe his name was? Where is he?”

“What do you want with him?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

Roy was a key witness in exposing the minister’s misdeeds. Teodor and the other men who had received orders in secret from the minister were currently captive in the prison run by National Defense. Roy, however, was hiding along with his family in the Aldis residence. There was no place in the capital as safe as the Aldis household.

With his family hostage, Herscherik had no choice but to tell the minister the truth. As he finished explaining where Roy was, the minister nodded in satisfaction, and then took an exaggerated bow.

“I look forward to working with you, my future king.”

Barbosse turned his back to Herscherik and started walking toward the door. As he glanced behind him, he saw Herscherik with his head downturned, trembling with his arms wrapped around himself. Barbosse felt a keen sense of superiority in that moment.

In the end, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. That king had also chosen his own blood over his people. Regardless of how splendid your ideals were, in the end it was human nature to look out for yourself before others. This prince is no different from his father. This country won’t change. It belongs to me.

Barbosse scoffed internally as he reached out toward the door.