Chapter Six: The Smile, the Lament, and the Black Dog

The season had changed from spring to summer, then from summer to autumn. Herscherik had grown with the season, too. For half a year after he began sneaking out into the castle town, Herscherik had taken to the outside world through his secret passage on any afternoon when he wasn’t studying or practicing swordsmanship or riding.

“Thank you! Please come again!” Herscherik smiled, handing his customer their bag of fruit. His smile was infectious.

After watching the customer leave, Herscherik stretched and took a deep breath. The autumn climate here was not too hot nor too cold, but just right. Herscherik gazed up at the endlessly expansive, blue sky. Amidst his busy days of study, training, and research, the vast canvas of blue made him forget about the minister and the perils of his country for just a moment... Well, he wished it would. At the very least, it was still refreshing.

“It’s a huge help when you come around, Ryoko. You really bring in the customers... and sell the fruit!” Louise happily reminded Herscherik. They had already made considerably more sales than the fruit stand made the previous day. “Right, honey?”

Louise had called out to a large man, easily twice as tall as Herscherik and four times as wide. He looked much more like a lumberjack than a fruit stand owner. Louise’s prompt caused the man to give Herscherik a quick glance before he returned to silently hauling boxes of fruit.

Beauty and the Beast...

Herscherik couldn’t help but compare the kind and energetic Louise and her intimidatingly quiet husband to a certain movie from his previous life.

“Ryoko’s talking up the customers enough for both of you! You better kiss the ground he walks on!” Louise said.

“Please. I really enjoy being here,” Herscherik interjected. He didn’t want them to get into a fight for his sake. “I’m always worried that I’m only getting in the way...”

Louise’s husband remained silent and gave Louise and Herscherik another glance. Then, he began delicately wrapping the fruit with some fabric. Somehow, his broad back seemed more approachable.

“He’s embarrassed.” Louise gave a shrug.

Herscherik had no idea how she could tell but concluded that it must have been the power of love.

“Are you sure this is okay with you, Ryoko? You’re helping us out a lot, but what do your parents say about it?” Louise could imagine that her young shopkeeper’s parents might keel over if they knew their precious son was out in the castle town alone helping run a fruit stand.

Herscherik shook his head. “My father’s very busy, so I don’t see him too often. My mother died when she had me... You don’t need to worry about my parents.” Herscherik had only meant to tell the truth, but he noticed that both adults looked a little uncomfortable. Not that he could read the ever-so-subtle shifts in the stoic expression of Louise’s husband, but he read the awkward air and rushed to add, “So my father told me that I should go out and do the things I enjoy! Don’t worry!” He held his fists out in front of him for emphasis.

This comment, however, triggered the opposite reaction from what he had hoped for.

They’re looking at me with even more pity...

Despite only telling some of the truth, Herscherik seemed to have dug his own grave somewhere along the way. As he stumbled in an attempt to clear the air, a fruit appeared before him. Herscherik looked up to find Louise’s husband looking back down at him, fruit in hand. After Herscherik timidly took the fruit, he returned to his work.

“I’m sorry if I was being insensitive,” Louise apologized.

Herscherik shook his head again. “Thank you for the fruit, Sir.”

Herscherik saw that Louise’s husband had given a faint nod while his back was still turned, and took a bite out of the fruit.

The prince spent the rest of the day servicing customers, polishing fruit alongside Louise’s husband, and discreetly gathering some information.

Before he knew it, the sky had turned from blue to sunset orange. While time did seem to fly while he was helping run the fruit stand, Herscherik also noted that the days were growing shorter as they approached winter, just like it did in Japan.

Come to think of it, we have a similar climate to Japan, too.

Herscherik glanced at his pocket watch to find that he stayed later than usual. Especially for the past few visits, he couldn’t help but stay as long as he could.

“I’m sorry. I kept you longer than usual,” Louise apologized, seeing that Herscherik had checked his watch.

“It’s not your fault, Miss Louise. I was having so much fun that I lost the track of time,” Herscherik reassured her as he hurriedly began packing... Well, he just had to put on his jacket.

“You’re coming to hang out again tomorrow?” Louise asked.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

Louise smiled in response. “Oh, right.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ve seen more strangers on the streets, lately... I think they’re from the country. The constables are on edge, too. It’s not as safe out there right now. Be careful on your way home... You want my hubby to walk you home?”

Her husband rose to his feet at the mention. While Herscherik was grateful for the offer, he couldn’t possibly accept.

“I’m okay. I’ll be careful! See you tomorrow!” Herscherik said to the couple and ran off.

Louise watched the child leave until he turned a corner. “Another fun day,” she muttered.

Louise and her husband did not have children of their own. They had decided to hold off because of financial concerns. But ever since “Ryoko” started coming to help their fruit stand, their days seemed more lively—enough to consider trying for a baby. They both understood the decrepit state of their country. The king served the nobles above his people, and the nobles and government officials acted solely for their own gain. Even the officials at the bottom of the pyramid, like the constables, neglected the people they were supposed to protect. This country was a harsh environment for anyone outside of the aristocracy.

Still, Louise and her husband chose to remain in their country that was relatively safe and regarded as a world power rather than starting from scratch in a foreign nation. Besides, living in the capital made things a little easier than living in the country. People’s lives only got worse the farther they were from the capital. Both Louise and her husband disliked nobles and any government officials. It seemed like taxes were being raised every day to diminish their already meager earnings, while they had to lower their prices to sell any product, driving their profits down further. Diligently paying their taxes all these years had never once improved their lives. They, and most commoners of this country, blamed this on the incompetence of their political leaders. As though to drive the point home, any noble that occasionally walked through the streets of the castle town was clad in expensive outfits, paying no mind to the suffering of the working class.

But he’s different, somehow. Louise recalled the appearance of her little helper. He was a child beautiful enough to be mistaken for a girl, with silky light blond locks, fair but healthy skin, and blue eyes that made her think of a gentle spring breeze. He was smart and energetic. One moment, he would say something far wiser than his age would suggest, then the next he would be overcome with joy at some childish insignificance. He charged head-on into anything he didn’t understand.

His clothes and manners are too good for him not to be some noble’s kid...

Louise’s heart ached at the thought of him growing up just to be like any other noble, walking down this street like he owned it. On the other hand, she didn’t think this particular noble would turn out that way. Much to her own surprise, she was hoping that he could change this world for the better by using his status.

“Hey, let’s close up,” her husband called.

“Okay,” she absent-mindedly answered, emerging from her thoughts.

Even her man of few words seemed to have taken a liking to this child. Louise knew that her husband had secretly bought a stuffed bear to give to “Ryoko,” before realizing that he was a boy. He was still contemplating whether or not to give him the bear, wondering if the boy would take offense to the gift of a stuffed animal. She married him for the adorable contrast between his stoic expression and genuine actions.

Maybe I’ll bake some pastries for tomorrow. Imagining the overjoyed reaction of their little helper, Louise couldn’t help but smile, too.

When her husband gave her an inquisitive look, Louise rushed to pack up the rest of the store.

The couple returned the next day to open their fruit stand as usual, but “Ryoko” never showed.

Louise kept glancing in the direction Herscherik would usually come from. “I’m telling you, hon. Something’s up.” She could hardly concentrate on running the stand. Louise turned to the back of the stand where they had prepared some pastries to surprise Herscherik. She let out a sigh. “He’s never not shown up when he said he would.” She kept mumbling out of nervousness.

Herscherik had always told the couple beforehand when there were days that he couldn’t make it. When he wasn’t sure if he could come the next day, he would make that clear. He had never once pulled a no-show after making a definitive promise the day before. Even Louise’s husband wore a very subtle frown out of concern, not anger.

“Maybe I should talk to a constable...?” But what should I say? Louise contemplated. “The noble’s son who always helps out at our fruit stand didn’t show today”? After a few moments, Louise sighed again. Not a chance. They wouldn’t take me seriously.

Louise heard a clunk and looked up to find her husband walking away from the fruit stand, looking like he was about to kill someone. “Where do you think you’re going!?”

“...Constabulary.”

“You’ll get arrested with a face like that!” You look like a murderer or kidnapper! Louise silently added a detail that might have made her husband cry and clung to his muscled arms. She desperately tried to pull her husband back with all of her might, to not much of an effect.

“Is something wrong?” a voice suddenly called to Louise.

Her husband stopped, and they both turned to find a young man. He stood slightly shorter than Louise’s husband but had a slender build of about half the width. He had shimmering black hair and eyes like a deep ruby. His unique sensuality would have made most girls his age swoon.

He took a quick look around the fruit stand. “That blond-haired little boy isn’t in today... Something about him?”

“Yes, we’re a little worried...” Louise poured out, seeing the concerned look on the young man’s face. “He said he’d come today, but he’s never been this late... With all the crime lately...”

“...I hope he’s all right.”

“Me too. I just hope that nothing’s happened to him...”

The young man nodded along and purchased a few pieces of fruit before disappearing around the corner.

When Louise rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, a thought came to her mind.

I’m surprised he could tell that Ryoko was a boy.

Herscherik was adorable enough to be mistaken for a girl, especially from afar. Still, the young man had called him a “blond-haired little boy.” At first, Louise had just thought that the man had shopped at their stand before, but she was sure she would have remembered such an attractive young man. As far she remembered, she had never seen that man before. Her conundrum, however, slipped her mind as she had to focus on stopping her husband when he decided to go to the constabulary again.

After leaving the fruit stand, the young man vanished into the crowd and inconspicuously and silently disappeared into an alley. If anyone had been watching him closely, they might have felt a strange sensation that his movements were too natural. Alas, no one was paying attention to this particular man in the crowd.

Once in the alley, he tossed the fruit he had just purchased to a street orphan curled up on the ground. The child looked up to thank the man but instead let out a small cry and ran the other way. The young man’s expression had changed from the gentle, kind one he had shown Louise to an ice-cold facade of barely-contained wrath.

Something’s wrong.

The young man, the underground agent-for-fire whom Herscherik had called Kuro, recalled the events that took place in the castle after he infiltrated it the previous night. The castle—the royal quarters in particular—was strangely busy. Kuro had not met Herscherik nor completed his task that night because of the heavy traffic of knights and guards tromping through the halls. There was only one plausible theory Kuro could devise from the previous night’s commotion at the castle and Herscherik’s absence from the fruit stand he had been frequenting in secret.

With a scowl on his face, Kuro made his way to see the Oracle, an infamous information broker of the underground. The Oracle charged more than most others in the business, but anyone who lived in the shadows knew that this broker provided information worthy of the price.

As he hastened through the alleys, Kuro couldn’t stop picturing the smile on that blond-haired prince who was always full of surprises. At each of their encounters, Herscherik had shown expressions unbecoming of his age and acted unbecoming of his royal status. Before Kuro knew it, all of his dangerous infiltration missions into the castle had become nothing more than an excuse to see the prince. Kuro used to only view his work as a means to earn money and nobles only as despicable but lucrative prey. He had come face-to-face with the darkness that lurked within the shadows of aristocracy, as most agents of the underground did. That darkness, with its shadowy specter of greed, tempted people into forsaking their humanity.

But when Kuro first met Herscherik, he couldn’t sense a shred of that darkness within the prince. Kuro felt strangely comfortable beside him and never enjoyed leaving him. Whenever Herscherik asked him a question or a favor, Kuro couldn’t refuse. Before long, the bewilderment Kuro felt over Herscherik and some other emotion that he had never felt before had turned to a comfortable kind of exhilaration. If teaching Herscherik the gap in the barrier had caused the prince’s disappearance somehow, Kuro would never forgive himself for it. His steps hastened one after another, until he was sprinting through the alleyways like a gust of wind. The only thing he longed for now was to see Herscherik smile.

Herscherik was dreaming that he was floating inside a cloud. He felt a distant nagging sensation at the back of his mind, but even that got lost in the fluff. He could not even be bothered to figure out if the fluffiness felt comfortable or revolting.

Whatever. I could float around like this forever... Just as sloth began to overcome him, Herscherik snapped awake from hearing a yelling man and a crying woman.

He was awake but could only see darkness. Herscherik realized that his eyes were closed and tried to open them wide, but he only managed to open them enough to see a blurry crack of light. Sensing he must be in danger, he tried to move his body, which felt exceedingly heavy and disobedient. Worst of all was his headache. Herscherik gave up on moving and focused on assessing his current situation with his still-foggy consciousness. With much effort, he discerned that he wasn’t in his own room from the fact that the bed he was on was much inferior in quality to his own.

Did someone... drug me? With sleeping pills?

Herscherik made a guess to explain the unusual state of his body. There was a time when Ryoko’s job search had entered a vicious cycle. Her failed attempts had made her anxious about the future and left her unable to sleep at night. The insomnia wrecked her physical well-being, leading to more failed interviews. At some point, her parents had urged Ryoko to see a psychiatrist. There, she was prescribed some sleeping pills. However, just describing her anxiety to the psychiatrist, after being too scared to open up to her parents, had significantly eased Ryoko’s mind. She had been too intimidated to actually take the pills. In fact, once she had switched her mindset and was no longer afraid of rejection, her job search didn’t last for much longer before she landed the office job she’d held until her death.

The side effects of the sleeping pills, as the pharmacist had described to Ryoko, matched Herscherik’s current state: dizziness, lethargy, and headaches. His thought process was being heavily impeded by these symptoms.

Who drugs a four-year-old? With an internal grumble, Herscherik attempted to retrace his memory through the haze of his headache.

As the sun was going down, he had returned from the fruit stand to his room via his usual route without anyone spotting him. He had been carrying a book he had checked out of the library beforehand, just to solidify his alibi. Then, he lounged on his sofa by the window, reading to pass the time until supper. Just as he began to contemplate which location he would infiltrate for that night’s episode of his investigative journalism program, Meria had finished preparing his supper. Herscherik remembered eating it.

The sautéed chicken was delicious. The pumpkin-ish soup, too.

The royal head chef prepared exquisite dishes, day after day. Both in this life and his previous one, Herscherik loved good food. Ryoko, however, never considered herself handy in the kitchen and specialized in eating more than cooking.

But I can’t remember anything after that... Not even dessert. He could perfectly recall what he ate for his appetizer, entrée, and soup, as well as how they all tasted. Herscherik could not remember anything after that, try as he did. Therefore, he concluded that one or more of the dishes must have been dosed. Drugged and kidnapped, then. Herscherik recalled that the dessert for that night was going to be fruit tarts. Dangit. I missed out on dessert. Herscherik liked eating in general but especially loved anything sweet. He imagined the golden-brown cookie crust, custard, and seasonal fruit on top. Finally, Herscherik gave up on his regrettably missed dessert. Now, what to do...? Both his brain and senses felt dulled from the drug, which came with the happy coincidence of keeping Herscherik from panicking.

Gradually, his headache subsided and the haze cleared from his mind. Holding back his dizziness, lingering headache, and nausea, Herscherik observed his surroundings with his eyes barely open. He was in a large room that appeared to be some sort of storage. The ceiling was made of decrepit wood, and the thin walls were riddled with holes. Judging from the lack of noise beyond the walls, Herscherik guessed that he was far from the center of town.

There were several people in the room. Two of them, a man and a woman, were arguing. While Herscherik hadn’t seen the man before, he immediately recognized the woman. She was the one who had been by his side since birth, always taking care of him. Meria? She had looked more distraught than Herscherik had ever seen.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him! I brought Prince Herscherik here because you said you just wanted to talk to him!”

“I wouldn’t have to do any of this if you had gotten through to the king!”

“I did speak to the king! But His Majesty...”

“Won’t help us! I know! Then what other choice do we have!?”

None of the other occupants of the room interrupted their escalating argument.

I’ve never seen Meria this flustered before. Herscherik’s thoughts kept wandering around the mark, still affected by the drug. He remembered that Meria had always tied her hair in a neat bun to match her meticulous work ethic. Now, her hair was in a mess, and her downturned eyes were wet with tears. I think she has a few more wrinkles than when we first met... Meria was much younger than Ryoko’s mother, so Herscherik always saw her more as an older sister than a maternal figure. As Ryoko had been the oldest of three sisters, she had always wanted an older sibling. Herscherik was always grateful for Meria and felt much closer to her than the biological mother he had never met. It sounds like she tried to talk to Father about something... and it didn’t go well? You could have always talked to me... Herscherik tried to vocalize that but struggled to form the words.

“Please! We have to take Prince Herscherik to a doctor!” Meria cried to the man.

She was nearly losing her mind after realizing the true potency of the drug and watching Herscherik remain unconscious for an entire day. She shuddered to imagine Herscherik never waking up. Meria clung to the man’s arm, begging and pleading. The man shook her off of his arm. Meria, not a particularly strong woman, fell to the ground and let out a small cry.

When Herscherik saw Meria tumble onto the floor with a cloud of dust, he let out an audible sound. At that instant, the wooden door of the room flew off of its hinges and into the room, accompanied by a cacophonous sound and another eruption of dust. A figure, clad in all black, emerged from the dust cloud, holding up a muscular man by the neck in each hand. Herscherik knew this figure very well, too.

I thought you specialized in not being detected... Herscherik couldn’t help but wonder if the spy before him, Kuro, could not have come up with a quieter infiltration route.

He had made quite the entrance, like a comic book hero, but his all-black outfit gave him more of an antihero vibe. He had his black hood drawn over his brows and a black cloth around his mouth, his long bangs concealing the rest of his face. Still, his eyes as deep and as red as a pool of blood peeked through his mask with a dangerous gleam. Herscherik saw an almost unbelievable amount of emotion behind those eyes, which had usually seemed so calm.

Kuro tossed one of the incapacitated men in his hands against another man who had been too astonished to react. He let out a grunt like a squashed frog. Unbothered by the sound, Kuro tossed the man in his other hand aside, who also let out the squashed-frog groan even though he only fell to the floor. With his hands now empty, Kuro slowly approached Herscherik. Having snapped out of the initial shock at the intrusion, the remaining men in the room swung at Kuro with metal bars and pieces of lumber. Kuro dodged them all with the minimum amount of movement, chopping their weapons out of their hands and clocking them in the gut. It was all done in a seamless series of maneuvers, with not a single motion wasted.

In less than ten seconds, the three men that had swung at Kuro were all eating dust. The rest of the men in the room were hesitant to attack. In fact, they were immobilized like a deer in headlights.

“Next man who moves, dies,” Kuro declared.

His tone was completely foreign to the one Herscherik had grown accustomed to hearing. It was cold enough to freeze over hell. His declaration was utterly irrefutable—a promise more than a threat. Everyone in the room understood the outcome of any attempts to attack Kuro and stood motionless.

Kuro walked by the immobilized group of men and came up to Herscherik. He took a knee and met Herscherik at eye level. His eyes were completely different now. There was no anger in them, but instead they wavered with concern.

“Did they drug you?” Kuro’s hand touched Herscherik’s forehead.

Herscherik closed his eyes at the refreshingly cool touch.

“Kuro...” Herscherik could barely utter those two syllables.

Kuro patted the prince’s head to console him. “Side effects are temporary. You’ll be as good as new once the drugs are out of your system.”

Kuro moved his hand away from Herscherik’s forehead and lifted the prince in his arms. Herscherik was more than a little embarrassed at the gesture, but he had a more pressing question on his mind.

“Kuro... I need... to...”

“The prince stays here!” The man who had been in an argument with Meria interrupted Herscherik as he stepped out before Kuro. He held a dagger in his hand, his eyes bloodshot. “Our livelihood... Our very lives are on the line!” the man declared with anger.

“So?” Kuro coldly countered. His eyes were devoid of emotion, glaring at the man as if he was nothing more than a pebble on the road.

Kuro let out a sigh, as if he couldn’t be bothered with it. He shifted to carry Herscherik with one hand. A knife had suddenly appeared in his other hand.

Noticing the blade in his hand, Herscherik tried to call to him. “Kuro...!” Just as he did, Herscherik’s brain rattled.

Kuro had dodged the man’s attack. He used his knife to knock the dagger out of the man’s hand and swung directly at his neck, aiming for the carotid artery. Kuro was going to do exactly as he’d warned them. In that instant, something snapped within Herscherik—more precisely, his patience.

Why won’t you listen!?

Herscherik’s blood boiled, evaporating all of the drug’s side effects from the headache, to the lethargy, to even the fog on his thoughts. “Kuro, stop!” he sharply ordered, as if he was commanding Ryoko’s loyal dog, as he smacked Kuro’s head which happened to be just within his reach. That caused his hood to fall back, revealing his shimmering black hair and widened red eyes. Kuro stared at Herscherik, unable to say or do anything but blink after that unexpected attack.

“I want... to hear them... out. Why... won’t you listen...?” Herscherik’s plea faded out as a throttling dizzy spell caught up to him. Herscherik buried his head into Kuro’s shoulder. He felt a shiver run all the way down from the tip of his head to his toes, and a powerful urge to vomit. Still, Herscherik held on. If he fell unconscious again, he wouldn’t be able to solve anything. He lifted his face from Kuro’s shoulders and looked the underground agent square in the eyes. “Let me down... Kuro. I can’t see or hear anyone up here.”

“But...”

“Then sit down, please. Kuro, sit!” Herscherik commanded, complete with the gesture of pointing to the ground with one hand.

At this point, Herscherik was thinking of Kuro (the underground spy) and Kuro (Ryoko’s old dog) on the same level. In fact, he remembered that even Kuro the dog was smarter than how the human Kuro was acting right now.

Eventually, Kuro compromised by setting Herscherik down to sit on the edge of the cot he had been lying in. Kuro remained standing by the cot.

“Tell me what’s going on, Meria.” Herscherik turned to Meria, who had been frozen on the ground since being knocked down by that man.

“...I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am, Prince Herscherik.” Meria’s chin fell.

Her apology seemed genuine to Herscherik, but he wasn’t looking for an apology.

“I don’t want you to apologize, but tell me why you’ve drugged me and brought me here. You know these people, right? Someone said that their livelihood and even their lives are at stake?”

Herscherik couldn’t perfectly recall the exact words he had heard while his mind was still foggy. The only thing he could make out was that these people were desperate.

Meria looked around the room in hesitation before answering. “We are all from the land Lord Ruseria used to rule.”

Herscherik’s eyes widened. He hadn’t heard that name in a while. Ruseria was the very person that served as a turning point in Herscherik’s life. Without him, Herscherik imagined that he would still be idly living in blissful ignorance.

Meria continued without noticing Herscherik’s surprise. “When Lord Ruseria passed away, someone else took over our land. Count Grim.”

Herscherik recognized that name, too. He was the direct cause of Ruseria’s execution. The one that backed him into a corner.

“He only sees our land as his personal playground.” A man spoke up, the one who Kuro had nearly killed.

No one who lived on his land believed that Ruseria had committed treason. Their lord was a just ruler who treasured his people like his own family. During famines, he gave up any food he had and suffered alongside his people. After the accidental death of his wife and child, people began to notice their lord delving into research like he was haunted by something. They witnessed Ruseria urgently coming or going from various places.

Later, the people received the news of Ruseria’s treason and execution. Their new lord, Grim, was the polar opposite of Ruseria—the worst ruler they could have imagined. Grim levied far more taxes than was necessary and sold off Ruseria’s resources to line his own pockets. In fact, when a weather-driven famine struck the land, not only did the despicable new lord refuse to lower taxes, but he hired some thugs in an attempt to forcibly collect them.

“It hasn’t even been two years since he took control, and most of us are already starving. We don’t know if some of the sick and elderly will make it through winter... including my parents,” Meria muttered, heartbroken. Their land was already built on poor soil under a climate that made it difficult to grow crops. It didn’t take long for their community to fall, and fall hard. “I received letters from my parents. As soon as my cousin—that’s him, right there—told me of the situation, I immediately spoke up to His Majesty about it. But...”

“Father did nothing.” Herscherik finished the sentence that Meria couldn’t bear to.

Meria silently bit her lip and nodded. Her disappointment in the king was clear to see. On the other hand, Herscherik fully understood the reason for his father’s inaction from his glimpse behind the kingdom’s curtains.

Father can’t do anything.

Herscherik knew, just as he had with Ruseria, that his father wanted to help these people. The problem was that Grim was clearly under Barbosse’s protection. The testimony of these people would not be enough. Without irrefutable evidence, the king could not prosecute Grim because of Barbosse’s protection. If he had taken any poorly considered action, there was a good chance that Grim would torment his people even further. Barbosse would turn to retribution, too.

Nothing has changed. I’m still so... Herscherik was completely overcome with his own powerlessness.

He had studied, read, and sneaked his way into nearly every room in the castle for the sole purpose of acquiring irrefutable evidence. With that, his father could prosecute the nobles that acted like they owned the country. However, he had come to suspect that neither the long-reigning puppeteer of the country, nor his allies, had left any evidence lying around in the castle. Either that or they had concealed them too well for Herscherik to discover. He had uncovered numerous trails of corruption, but none of his evidence was airtight. Still, Herscherik had no intention of giving up nor of letting them keep winning this war for long. He, his father, the rest of his family, and all the people of the kingdom were all in danger.

Herscherik knew that he had nothing: no magic, no athletic talents, and no patrons. Precisely because he was born with no weapons in his arsenal, he focused on what actions he could take. The only weapons he had were the knowledge and experience he had carried over from his previous life. So, he searched for a way to use them, in order to reform, rebuild, fortify, and protect his country. This resolve had driven all Herscherik’s actions up to this day. He understood that he and the people before him were the same. They each took action in an attempt to protect those dear to them... and failed.

“So you abducted me to threaten Father.” Herscherik let out a long sigh into the silenced room. “Even if you did, Father can’t do anything. It would only make your position worse... You’re signing up for your entire families to be executed for treason.” That was the consequence for harming royalty. Despite the minister ruling the nation from the shadows, the end result of kidnapping a prince and blackmailing the king must have been evident to even a child.

“...I understand. Give me some time.” Herscherik looked around the room. He met the eyes of each and every person there, all immobilized and speechless. He nodded with conviction. “I’ll take care of it before winter.”

This declaration astonished Meria, the other residents of Ruseria’s land, and even Kuro, who was the only one in the room that noticed the subtle change in Herscherik’s tone. Now, he spoke like the oldest sister of a household rounding up all of her siblings.

“I made a promise to Count Ruseria.” Herscherik produced the antique pocket watch the count had gifted him.

All of his people knew that their beloved count had never allowed himself to be parted from that precious keepsake.

“...Lord Ruseria,” someone in the room whispered.

Tears formed in the eyes of all of Ruseria’s subjects who were present. Their loving count was no longer with them and neither was his family. His land and his people were left behind to be ravaged by tyranny. The gravity of it all was weighing heavy on their hearts.

“I want you to trust me.” Herscherik’s eyes shone with determination, just as they had when he’d accepted Ruseria’s pledge of loyalty.

The Seventh Prince returned to the panic-stricken castle on the evening of the day following his disappearance. It was a guard at the front gate who had first discovered the prince and his nanny. He had received the nanny who was carrying the prince as she walked up to the gate, her hair in disarray and near to fainting. When the king received the news, he pushed past his objecting advisors and ran out to the gate to embrace his faltering son. The king’s pale face was drained of any color it had. It was clear to see that the king had not slept a wink the previous night.

The nanny gave her story to the king. Someone had infiltrated the royal quarters and abducted her along with the Seventh Prince, as they were both in Herscherik’s room. They were taken to the kidnapper’s hideout, but the nanny had managed to escape with her charge.

A team of knights immediately headed to a cottage far from the castle town that the nanny claimed to have escaped from. While they could see that some people had been in the cottage, they were unable to identify the kidnapper. The abduction of Gracis’s youngest prince had concluded with his miraculously safe return.

In the dimly lit room, Herscherik was sitting on the sofa, gazing at the flames dancing in the fireplace. After being away from it for a day, his room felt exceedingly spacious with no one else in it.

I had my own condo. I should be used to being alone, but... maybe I crave attention more than I realized.

Herscherik let out a chuckle, having realized how much he had relied on Meria. He recalled the events that took place after his return to the castle.

Herscherik had kept the truth a secret, despite his father’s inquisition. If he had told the truth, everyone who had a part in his kidnapping, and everyone in their families, would have been sentenced to death. Herscherik maintained his story. “All I remember after waking up is that Meria brought me home.”

His father drooped his head. “You’re as stubborn as your mother...” Solye muttered in defeat.

Herscherik realized from the king’s reaction that he knew the abduction was Meria’s doing. That wasn’t surprising. Considering that she and Herscherik had gone missing right after Solye refused to take action regarding her hometown, it would have been ridiculous for her not to be the prime suspect. No matter what Solye’s personal beliefs were, his status as the king demanded that he pursue the case.

“I need to ask you a favor, Father,” Herscherik had finally said.

Herscherik returned his focus to the present. He felt a strange sensation, like he was no longer alone in the room.

“Are you all right?” A voice came from directly behind him.

Still, Herscherik remained where he sat and continued to watch the fire and unknowingly stroke the pocket watch in his hand with his thumb.

“I caused you a lot of trouble. I’m sorry, Kuro.”

Herscherik felt like Kuro shrugged but didn’t turn around to see.

“...Nothing for Your Highness to apologize about. You didn’t ask me to do it. No need to be so uptight around me, either.”

“Oh? Then you can call me Hersch, too.” Herscherik tilted his head and let out a chuckle. The image of Kuro the dog wagging his tail crossed his mind, but he kept that to himself. “Thank you, Kuro. Really. Thanks to you, no one will be executed.”

Thanks to Kuro, the case of Herscherik’s kidnapping was coming to a close, at least on the surface. Upon Herscherik’s request, Kuro had spirited Ruseria’s people out of the capital and even set up a space for Meria to describe as the kidnapper’s hideout, separate from the real location where Herscherik had been taken. Since Kuro and everyone else involved in the abduction had thoroughly covered their tracks, Herscherik guessed that the case would be dropped before long for lack of any substantial evidence.

Kuro really is a talented spy...

Herscherik was impressed. The glimpses of Kuro’s stealth and combat skills were enough that even to Herscherik’s untrained eye, he could tell Kuro was the real deal. More evidence of his prowess was the very fact that he was now standing in Herscherik’s room, even after the royal quarters had improved their security.

“I don’t have anything I can give you right now, but I will repay you for this, one day.”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Kuro shrugged. Then, he began to frown and hesitantly added, “...You’re really going?”

Herscherik guessed that Kuro must have gotten wind of the favor he had asked from his father. He held down the button of the pocket watch to reveal the portrait of a family of three that had already departed this world.

The people who were dear to them are in danger. How could I not help them?

Ruseria had entrusted Herscherik with everything he had left unfinished. That’s why...

“I’m going. I have to,” Herscherik answered with unyielding resolve.

Herscherik had asked his father for a favor. “Meria’s exhausted from all of this. I want her to return to her hometown for a while. And I want to accompany her there, after all she’s done for me.” Herscherik had pleaded with the expression of a child concerned for his nanny. Meria’s homecoming would serve two purposes: one, to allow Meria to escape from the castle, and two, to let Herscherik go to Meria’s hometown in order to obtain evidence of Grim’s wrongdoings. That might prove incredibly difficult for someone his age, but Herscherik could no longer back down despite the odds—not after discovering that there would be casualties of poverty in the town over the coming winter. He had made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

In fact, Solye opposed Herscherik leaving the capital for any reason, but Herscherik never relented. Soon, there was a father and son stand-off. Rook, the king’s butler who had been quietly standing beside them the whole time, proposed a solution. “Your Majesty. Why don’t we appoint a butler of service for Prince Herscherik? There shan’t be any problems if he’s accompanied by a manservant.”

Solye turned a sharp glare to Rook as if to reprimand his unsolicited advice. Rook simply looked the other way.

“Butler of service?” Herscherik tilted his neck.

Even though he had studied as much as he could, he now realized that there was a great deal he still did not know about the customs of his own country. He attributed this to his lack of interest in that area and the fact that his mother was dead and his father was too busy to teach him these things, on top of barely seeing his siblings and queens.

“A butler of service, in short, is a butler who serves not a whole household but only his master... A personal servant of sorts,” Rook explained.

A butler of service, it seemed, was a butler specifically dedicated to a single member of royalty or former royals like dukes and duchesses. The custom had begun with Gracis’s founding monarch. When he took the throne, a great many people swore their loyalty to him. That king had chosen the most trustworthy out of all them and given that person the title of “butler of service,” to manage all of his underlings.

After some time, those who pledged their life to serve a particular individual began to earn the title “of service.” However, the title was only given under the king’s supervision. Butlers of service were permitted to choose the will of their master over the king himself. In some cases, a butler of service could spend more time with their master over a lifetime then their master’s spouse.

“It is customary for His Highness to choose a butler of service after a few more years, but this may be the perfect timing if Meria is to leave him,” Rook added. He also explained that Herscherik could elect to appoint a knight or spellcaster of service as well. But first, Rook clarified that the prince should appoint a butler.

Recalling what Rook had said, Herscherik let out a sigh in front of the fire. In the end, Solye had granted permission for Herscherik’s trip with the condition that he chose a butler of service to accompany him. Herscherik couldn’t ask the king to compromise any further.

“I wish you could be my butler of service,” Herscherik muttered.

We get along, somehow. I feel relaxed around you...

Herscherik concluded that this was because Kuro knew how Herscherik really was. Given their shocking first encounter and the unique situations in which they’d seen each other after that, Herscherik had shown Kuro a side of him that was neither juvenile nor princely. He always made sure to act his age around his own father, so as to not concern the king. As a result, Herscherik felt uniquely at ease around Kuro. Come to think of it, Ryoko could only be herself when she was alone or only with family. She had always played a character around friends and coworkers because that was an easier way for her to live. Herscherik lost himself in thought for a moment, reminiscing about his previous life.

“Because I’m a useful spy?” Kuro asked.

At Kuro’s sudden question, Herscherik finally turned around to face him. “Huh?” Kuro’s eyes were filled with emotion, just like they were when he had saved Herscherik from the kidnapping. “Why would that matter? It’s because you’re Kuro. Did you only help me because I’m a prince, then?” Herscherik’s eyes were widened.

Kuro fell speechless. He didn’t say another word as he disappeared into the darkness.

What’s up with Kuro...? I mean, I know he could never be my butler of service.

Anyone who served the royal family would have their identity vetted. From what Herscherik could discern from Rook, anyone with the title “of service” worked very closely with the royal family. Traditionally, a non-firstborn noble or an heir of a wealthy merchant would apply for the position, recommendation letter in hand, to increase their reputation. Herscherik doubted that anyone like that would understand what he was trying to do. In fact, who would even choose to apply for a position like that to work for the Seventh Prince, the least valuable member of the royal family and someone who didn’t even have any noble patrons? Just the thought of it made Herscherik depressed, although he was really upset for another reason entirely. Leaving Meria, the person who had raised him, wasn’t going to be easy, even though it was something Herscherik had decided to do on his own.

After ending the discussion with his father, Herscherik spoke to Meria when they were alone. “Meria. I’m sure you’re already aware, but you can’t work here anymore.”

If the fact that she drugged and kidnapped a prince were to come to light, Meria could not avoid prosecution, even with Herscherik’s protection and the fact that she had felt like there was no other choice. Herscherik knew he had to get Meria out of here before her crime came to light.

“I am truly, truly sorry...” Meria groveled on her knees and rubbed her forehead into the carpet.

Herscherik helped her to her feet, shaking his head. “I understand how you feel, Meria. I want to help you. I want to change things. But there’s something I have to make clear...” Now, all sorts of emotions were entangled within Herscherik: loneliness, sorrow, anger directed at his own powerlessness... Those emotions wouldn’t allow Herscherik to hold back what he was about to say. “Father trusted you. And you betrayed that trust... You betrayed my trust, too.”

If she had come to talk to Herscherik, instead of simply kidnapping him, things might have turned out differently. While Herscherik understood that he could not have expected her to come to a four-year-old about her predicament, Meria was the only person Solye had entrusted with his child. “I know you were in a tough position... but that doesn’t justify betraying the people who trusted you.”

Meria sobbed. As she left the room with her head hung low, Herscherik didn’t stop her.

Once both Meria and Kuro were out of the room, Herscherik let out a self-deprecating scoff. “Doesn’t justify betraying their trust, does it...?” Half of what he had said to Meria was directed at himself. He was practically lying to his father right now, too. Herscherik kept all sorts of things hidden from the king, like the knowledge of his previous life and what he did in the middle of the night, in order to play the part of the innocent young prince. “Still...” He was doing it all to protect his father, and everyone else he’d sworn to help. Herscherik tightened his grip on the pocket watch. “I want to protect you...” He understood that it was selfish to feel that way. Even so, Herscherik wished for it. For the wish that Ruseria had entrusted him with.

As those thoughts raced through his mind, Herscherik felt his chest tighten, making it difficult for him to breathe.

The next morning, Rook prepared Herscherik’s breakfast instead of Meria. He was the perfect butler, meticulously serving the meal as he assessed Herscherik’s physical condition after his abduction.

“Prince Herscherik, Your Highness will be appointed a butler of service this afternoon,” Rook declared as Herscherik drank his post-breakfast tea.

“Already?” Herscherik stared at Rook, implying a few other comments like that was quick or don’t I get to interview them?

Rook only returned a gentle smile.

I wonder what kind of person they’ll be... I hope we can get along. His emotions were heavily weighted toward nervousness over excitement. Herscherik downed the rest of his tea as if to swallow his anticipation.

That afternoon, a tall and slender young man appeared. He had his shimmering, pitch-black hair slicked back to reveal his deep, ruby eyes. If he were to smile, that would surely make any girl blush.

“Now, I shall take my leave.” Rook left the room with barely an introduction, as if he had just set them up on a blind date.

Silence dominated the room for several moments.

Is that...? “Kuro?”

Kuro the spy had always worn all black, hiding his eyes with his long bangs and hood and even concealing his mouth with a cloth mask. Even though he should have only recognized small parts of Kuro’s face, Herscherik was confident that the man standing before him was the underground agent himself.

“...You’re actually pretty good-looking.”

“What do you mean, ‘actually’?” Kuro the spy-turned-butler grumbled.

Herscherik laughed in response. Ryoko’s nerdy intuition had guessed that Kuro was good-looking, but Herscherik couldn’t help but smile at how handsome he was after seeing Kuro’s whole face. “What happened? Did you switch careers overnight?”

“...Sort of.”

Kuro’s response was less confident than what Herscherik was used to hearing from Kuro.

I can’t very well tell you that I don’t even know how I ended up here, Kuro grumbled in his mind. As an agent of the underground, nobles were nothing but a source of income to him. That’s why he had worked as a spy, which only required a surface-level and short-lived interaction with his clients. But Herscherik was completely different from any of those nobles before him. Kuro had witnessed how Herscherik leaped into action, researching alone in the night and steeling himself to venture outside of the castle if need be. He’d seen the sense of responsibility he felt just because he had been born a royal, and his intense stubbornness. And Kuro saw how Herscherik smiled and showed his true emotions, in contrast to the mask Kuro always wore to conceal his face. As they spent more time together, Kuro noticed a change beginning to occur within him. Before he knew it, Kuro would find himself looking forward to meeting the prince during his next infiltration of the castle. The sense of danger he felt when Herscherik disappeared, the wrath he felt when he found the prince drugged and abducted, the relief he felt when he finally saved Herscherik... All of those emotions, and Herscherik’s sorrowful expression as he pushed his nanny away and continued to deceive his father, had stuck with Kuro. The little prince had done it all to follow through with his resolve of protecting those dear to him. Kuro wanted to help him, and protect him, somehow.

When Herscherik said that he wanted him to be his butler of service, Kuro’s heart skipped a beat. However, that joy didn’t come without a shadow of insecurity. He wondered if the prince only wanted him for his talents. Kuro wasn’t born in this country but had found himself here once upon a time and stuck around. No one had ever wanted him for who he was but only asked for his skills as Shadow Fang. Everyone who had ever asked for his services only did so in pursuit of his abilities; it didn’t matter who he was under the dark hood. Rationally, Kuro understood that this was only natural. Still, he had always longed, deep down, for someone to need him for who he was. “It’s because you’re Kuro,” Herscherik had said. “Did you only help me because I’m a prince, then?” The answer was no. Kuro would not have stuck his neck out to save anyone else, not his own client or even the king himself. Kuro saved the prince because he was Herscherik, not the other way around. Herscherik wanted Kuro and not Shadow Fang. For the first time, Kuro was truly wanted for who he was.

Instead of spilling his heart about all of that, Kuro simply grinned. “You said this was what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“...Thank you!” Herscherik confirmed with a smile becoming of his age. “But don’t they have to vet you?”

“Well, I was scouted by the king’s butler of service himself.”

As Kuro had been contemplating how to infiltrate the role, Rook had appeared before him without a sound. He immediately proposed that Kuro become Herscherik’s butler of service. Kuro couldn’t tell if Rook was acting on his own or by orders of the king. The only thing he took from the meeting was that the king’s butler of service approved of him and that Rook had his own secrets.

“Okay,” Herscherik conceded. “You really don’t have a birth name, Kuro? I feel weird just calling you Kuro.”

“I don’t know my birth name. I do have a name I go by, but you shouldn’t call me that.”

After Kuro began living in the underground and people started calling him Shadow Fang, he no longer needed his real name. He had no one close to him who wanted to know his real name. Whenever he needed a “normal” name during a mission, he invented an alias on the spot. But now, he had grown accustomed to Herscherik calling him Kuro. That being said, he understood that the prince might not want to use that name in public.

“Name me. Whatever you want.”

“Really...?” Herscherik contemplated, his brows pulled together. Soon, he clapped his hands. “How about Schwarz?”

“What does it mean?” Kuro asked, not recognizing the word.

“Um... ‘Black.’ So does Kuro, by the way. Is that too on the nose?” Herscherik timidly tilted his head.

Kuro laughed, and it sounded genuine. “That works. So I’m still your Kuro.”

“Yep!”

In this country, a name granted by a noble carried a special significance. It was a display of absolute trust by the granter and of selfless loyalty from the receiver. It would be some time before Herscherik and Kuro discovered the meaning behind a naming in this country, and share an embarrassed chuckle.