Episode 002. Letting It Out (1)
Looking back, I really did have quite a lot built up against this guy.
How much did I suffer because of that prince.
To the point that if you asked me who I hated most in the world, the words "Callios van Ortaire" would come out without even passing through my brain.
Getting thrown into prison was because of this guy.
Having my body worked to the bone in prison was because of this guy's "training."
And even after I got out, roaming from battlefield to battlefield was because this guy dragged me along.
Of course, I got all the apologies.
Middle-aged Callios was softer than he is now, and he was the kind of moron who knew he was a moron.
But still.
If everything in the world ended with an apology, why would the guard exist?
Sure, someone might say, "If it won't end with an apology, why apologize at all?" but even that has its limits—some things only end with an apology if they're within reason.
Human emotions are scary like that.
Dreaming about the moment my life got driven into the abyss made the bitterness from back then come rushing in with it.
So yeah, my words got a little rough out of pent-up rage.
"Woooow~ what a fine job you're doing. You don't attend banquets, you're lazy with your studies, you've got no intention of training, and the only thing you do is skulk around incognito. You're practically the very image of a benevolent ruler, so deeply concerned with the commoners' lives."
When I smiled with only one corner of my mouth, the crown prince's expression twisted.
"You bastard, watch your mouth ..."
"Oh my, I'm sorry. It's not a mouth, it's an a**hole."
"What ...."
"The farts won't stop. Please understand. Or what—does it hit a nerve? Honestly, if it doesn't, then you've got no conscience at all."
And this crown prince has no conscience.
The future him guarantees that too.
–I didn't realize I'd become that lazy. Thinking back now, I truly was the very picture of a slack royal. My head was filled with her, and I couldn't even think about what I was supposed to do.
What a magnificent lover we have here.
But that's all in the past.
Not my problem.
I gathered what I knew, what I'd heard from him, and the rumors and stories that had spread, then grounded my mockery in facts.
It was an all-out insult, with everything I had.
"Lately, the way high society looks at Your Highness is really something. A slack crown prince who doesn't even mind state affairs. The shadow of a tyrant. The Empire's black sun. Or perhaps... the Empire's last emperor...."
In that moment, the crown prince's body flinched.
How do I put it—like a twenty-year lump in my chest slid right down.
But I couldn't end it here.
"Even today is the same. Now then, what is my name? Yuren Paros. Heir to the great House Paros. A name that proves this Empire's legitimacy."
Even thinking back on it, I really was born into one hell of a family.
Of course, when the war was in full swing, it was already a house that had fallen and vanished, but still.
Well, that's just one more sad past.
For now, I should do my best with what's in front of me.
"Now, let's lay it out. Your Highness threatened me—me—because I slapped the cheek of a single common wench. High society spreads rumors fast. Or one of those knights attending Your Highness might spread what happened today. They could say, 'His Highness went crazy over a woman and threatened a great house...'"
I wasn't making it up.
In truth, today's incident becomes one of the decisive reasons that man is deposed and thrown into prison.
It's political struggle.
The factions of other princes who already found the crown prince distasteful, or those who held a weakness over him, were always desperate to drag him down.
No matter how formally invested as crown prince he was, not every action would be forgiven.
This incident becomes a political weakness that haunts him for a long time.
Of course, it helped that he'd done plenty of other vile things too.
"Your Highness will lose your footing. Even those who claim Your Highness's legitimacy will start to recoil in disgust and turn their hearts away."
Still, the crown prince is smart.
He understood my words, and I could see it on his face.
'Now, how do I land the finishing blow.'
How do I make that bastard feel like shit.
Cathartic thoughts strung themselves into sentences.
And as a result, I found the words he would hate the most.
I hardened my expression and said it.
"What on earth are you doing? Where has your mind wandered off to."
The crown prince's face stiffened.
"Is your judgment really that poor? You dare put some common wench on the same scale as the crown prince's seat?"
Veins rose along the back of his clenched fist.
"Branches can sway in the wind. But the roots must not. Yet Your Highness is no different from a tree whose roots are shaking."
I took a deep breath.
Then I drove in the wedge.
"Turn around. Right now, check what expressions those knights are making—what kind of eyes they're using to look at Your Highness."
–There was nothing around me but those who adored me. That's why I didn't come to my senses. I was drunk on their admiration.
I showed the crown prince a reality that only his future self realized too late.
The crown prince's gaze creaked as it turned behind him.
The knights escorting him in incognito attire flinched and trembled.
Just as they had while I spoke, they had shame and fear rising on their faces.
They hadn't even had time to compose their expressions.
They were too stunned by my words to recover from the shock.
"......."
Even from his back, I could tell.
As he inspected them, the crown prince felt like he'd been struck in the back of the head.
Like he'd just shattered the delusion that everyone admired him, and confusion was swallowing him whole.
I was right.
When he turned back to me, the crown prince's eyes were shaking.
Unlike the future him—who never wavered under any temptation—this one looked like a pathetic force that would topple if you so much as blew on it: "Hoo."
I said,
"Untie this. Then I'll erase today from my memory."
"Your Highness ...!"
Only then did the knights, now starting to fear the aftermath, open their mouths.
The crown prince's jaw clenched tight.
His eyes were bloodshot.
It seemed the shock had hit him hard.
But it wasn't anger.
This was something endlessly close to confusion.
And then the crown prince spoke.
" ... Release him."
That was all, in a voice scraped raw with the sound of metal.
With the knights' help, I was freed from my restraints.
"Then I'll be going."
Leaving that greeting behind, I sauntered out of the abandoned warehouse with the stiffened crown prince at my back.
The outside air was wonderfully cool.
A refreshing clarity rushed all the way up to the top of my head.
I stretched.
'How long has it been?'
Since I'd breathed air this refreshing.
In prison, it was stale air, and after becoming a soldier, I lived constantly in the stench of corpses.
From deep within my memories, something that had been asleep finally brushed off its dust and spoke to me.
'... Right.'
The Imperial Capital before the war was a place like this.
'Beautiful.'
Even at night, there was light that illuminated the broad roads.
For public safety, there were guards patrolling late into the night.
The Empire's hot-blooded youths staggered through the streets dead drunk, and elders laughed as they watched them.
"Ha, hahaha ...!"
I burst into laughter.
Because my own moronic past came to mind.
Living in a world like this, what was I so dissatisfied with that I lived like a scoundrel?
What made me so angry that I went around committing atrocities?
But regret is always too late.
I shook my head and erased the thought.
'It's still a dream. So it's fine to enjoy it a little more.'
After this comes death.
Rest, or punishment.
If that's so, shouldn't I enjoy this moment as much as possible?
I walked the Imperial Capital's night streets.
I sold a ring and bought cheap rum off the street, then drank with the Empire's people of the night.
"Come on, enjoy it. It's a peaceful day."
"Woooah! Young Master Paros! As expected, you're so generous!!!"
"Not at all."
And like that, I got completely wasted and fell asleep.
The next day came.
The hangover was painfully brutal,
".....Why am I still in the dream?"
The dream didn't end.
Only then did I feel that something was wrong.
***
Mornings in the Imperial Palace come early.
That didn't just mean people moved that much more busily.
Physically, sunlight pours in earlier.
Because beyond the Imperial Capital—beyond the entire Empire—the imperial palace stands the highest.
And among those heights, the place second only to the Sun Palace where the emperor resides is the crown prince's Dawn Palace.
A palace where you can see the rising sun best, and today, on the topmost terrace of that palace, stood a man of refined beauty gazing at the dawn.
It was the palace's owner: Crown Prince Callios.
There was a dark shadow beneath his eyes.
Because he hadn't slept a wink all night.
From the hour dusk fell until now, Callios had done nothing but watch the drifting celestial bodies from this topmost terrace.
No one could disturb him.
Except for one person.
Thump thump!
Someone reached the place with unusually furious footsteps.
Callios's sharp senses caught the sound.
–P, Princess...! Please, just a moment...…..
–Move.
And then.
Bang!
The topmost door swung open.
Callios flicked his gaze toward the door.
A woman with an irritable expression—blonde hair and blue eyes like his—wearing a splendid dress, was his sister: First Imperial Princess Erylda.
".....What brings you here at this early hour."
"What brings me here? What brings me here?!"
She strode toward Callios with the same furious steps.
Then, without warning, she grabbed him by the collar.
"Callios. You fucking idiot."
Her tone was like the growl of a snarling beast.
She was always quick to anger, but rage this intense was rare.
"How many eyes and ears does the imperial family have? Who was it that told me to be careful with every single thing I do, from the moment I open my eyes to the moment I fall asleep? Wasn't that you?"
"... I don't know what you mean."
"You touched a great house and you're acting like you've got no thoughts at all? You really have lost your mind?"
Erylda's smile twisted.
Callios frowned.
'Has it spread already.'
The thought brought him a surge of displeasure.
Then, overwhelming that displeasure, it brought a choking tightness.
Because the coldly expressionless face of the man he met last night rose in his mind.
–High society spreads rumors fast. Or one of those knights attending Your Highness might spread what happened today. They could say, 'His Highness went crazy over a woman and threatened a great house...'
Even so, Erylda kept talking.
"What you touched was a great house. Do you even understand what that means? Why did it have to be Paros! Why! Why, out of all the houses, did it have to be Paros!!!"
Her raised voice had become a shout before she realized it.
Anger and resentment—two things—covered her face.
And with that, Callios recalled what it was he had touched.
'The Great House Paros.'
A house that existed before the Empire's founding, a house of founding meritorious subjects who opened this land alongside the first emperor.
And the house that served as the first emperor's Grand Preceptor.
They hold no noble title.
They hold no official post.
Because nothing can limit the achievements they have accomplished, nor the achievements they will accomplish.
That's why Paros was simply a "great house."
They were also the only house that could say "reconsider" to an imperial decree.
That was the house Callios had touched.
So her anger was justified.
Erylda's faction, allied with Callios, would suffer the greatest damage of all if he fell.
In other words, this was a choice that would drive not only him, but her as well, into the abyss.
Once again, Yuren's words brushed past Callios's mind.
–Is your judgment really that poor?
He felt miserable.
Erylda's fury continued even so.
"The noble faction is looking for your flaws. The Second Prince's dogs too. Enemies everywhere. Those damn bastards are still eyeing this palace even now."
"......"
"And you... what are you even doing? Huh? Why are you showing nothing but weaknesses because you've fallen for some common girl. That? Fine, I can understand. You're at the age where love is sweet. I thought the experience would make you mature. But what is this...."
The strength in her hand gripping his collar began to loosen.
"Why go that far? What is that girl to you? What is she that you'd make an enemy of a great house? Why... why...!"
If it were yesterday's him, what would he have answered?
Callios quickly found the answer.
'I removed a scoundrel. A great house produced a failure they'd never had before. So I simply made a decision for the Empire's future.'
He would have truly believed that.
He would have said it to Erylda's face.
If he did, she would have bared her teeth in fury, but still respected his choice and sought a solution.
Just like she always had.
But now, he couldn't say it.
Above all, the disappointment beginning to show on Erylda's face made him recall last night as if a wedge were being driven in.
–Your Highness will lose your footing. Even those who claim Your Highness's legitimacy will start to recoil in disgust and turn their heads away.
Not even a full day had passed.
Only night had ended and morning had come.
And yet everything the man said was already becoming reality.
Callios was confused.
'...He is a scoundrel. Clearly.'
His actions up until then had been so, and even the moment he'd been dragged in, he was a scoundrel.
Screaming, "Do you know who I am," screaming to be released.
Then trembling as he was hauled away.
But the moment Callios revealed his identity, the man's demeanor changed.
At that moment, he was so cold, so indifferent, that Callios couldn't believe he was the same Yuren he'd seen.
Every word he spoke was like a chilling dagger, forcing Callios to look back at himself.
What should that attitude be called?
... yes.
'He evaluated me.'
The thought had barely formed when Erylda sighed and said,
"... We can cover this incident easily. People in the Imperial Capital saw the young master of Paros—the so-called kidnapped victim—drinking in the streets all night. In the end, the kidnapping will just die as a rumor from conspiracy nuts."
No.
Callios recalled the man's final words.
–Untie this. Then I'll erase today from my memory.
In other words.
'An alibi.....'
He made one.
A perfect alibi so that no one could ever threaten Callios over what happened that day.
Callios asked himself.
'Is he really a scoundrel?'
No, that didn't make sense.
It was more believable that the scoundrel's behavior was a mask.
Once one thing is suspicious, everything becomes suspicious—that's human nature.
Callios was no different.
'Why did Yuren Paros slap her?'
Was it intentional?
To create a chance for a private meeting that night?
If so, then delivering those words was the goal.
And if that was the goal, then.
'He has seen through all of my patterns of behavior.'
Then another doubt.
'... Am I doing something wrong?'
He was confused.
It felt like if he couldn't resolve this suffocating feeling, he wouldn't be able to do anything at all.
He lifted his head and looked outward.
But even the dazzling, radiant dawn of the East Palace couldn't sweep away the shadow hanging in his chest.
The shadow's name was suspicion.