Chapter 67

In the Royal Capital, various reports were reaching the First Prince.

The First Prince picked up a single report.

“…Talk of Leonhart again?”

The Chancellor quietly nodded.

One of the nobles opened his mouth.

“The Count of the Court is something to be rejoiced at. It is proof that the great power has treated our prince with warm hospitality. We should draw the Third Prince to our side.”

But another noble immediately shook his head.

“No, we should not rejoice lightly. There is also the possibility he has been won over by their court.”

“Are you saying he has become a spy?”

“The possibility cannot be denied.”

The First Prince listened to their words in silence.

At that point, another report was read aloud.

“A petition from the merchant guild,”

The clerk said.

“They say profits are being made regarding the abolition of tariffs. They evaluate His Highness the Third Prince’s diplomacy highly, and state that His Highness should be placed at the forefront for future negotiations as well.”

One of the nobles snorted.

“Merchants are always talking about money.”

“However, the national treasury will also be enriched,”

Another man said.

“We likely cannot ignore the merchants’ claims either.”

The First Prince lightly tapped the desk with his finger.

“…What else?”

The clerk opened the next letter.

“It is an incident at the hot spring resort. He apparently saved a collapsed doctor and travelers.”

The Chancellor supplemented.

“It seems he ordered the ventilation of the inn. And by that, they escaped death.”

An old noble said in a low voice.

“Oh…”

But there, an envoy related to the church opened his mouth.

“Among the clergy, a different rumor is spreading.”

The First Prince raised an eyebrow.

“What kind of rumor?”

The envoy lowered his voice slightly.

“That perhaps His Highness the Third Prince possesses ‘the power to see through demons’.”

Several people in the room grimaced.

“Ridiculous.”

“The people are quick to fabricate miracles.”

But the envoy said quietly.

“…However, that rumor is spreading among pilgrims.”

Then another noble spoke sharply.

“Such talk is dangerous.”

The First Prince directed his gaze.

The envoy continued.

“There are those who speak of miracles, but conversely, there are also those who say this.”

“Say what?”

“That he did not see through a demon. But rather, perhaps he is dabbling in dark arts.”

The air fell completely silent for an instant.

The Chancellor said in a low voice.

“…Suspicions of heresy, is it?”

“Yes. Within parts of the church, such voices are also beginning to emerge.”

The First Prince remained silent for a while.

Eventually, the clerk opened the final report.

“Opinions from the doctors’ guild.”

“Oh?”

“Regarding His Highness’s instructions on hygiene, opinions are divided.”

“Divided?”

“Yes. Those who say ‘it stands to reason,’ and…”

The clerk continued, seemingly finding it a little hard to say.

“Those who push back, saying ‘an amateur is interfering in medicine’.”

A small stir arose in the room.

The First Prince quietly leaned back in his chair. On his desk, reports concerning his younger brother were piled up.

A Count of the Court of a great power. The support of merchants. The rumors of the masses. The pros and cons of the church. The backlash from scholars.

All of those were beginning to move around a single prince.

The First Prince muttered softly.

“…Leonhart.”

The Chancellor was quietly looking at the First Prince.

It was the night of the day I returned to the Royal Capital.

I was called to a room in the royal palace. The one who summoned me was the First Prince. The reason was simple.

“It’s a celebration of your return. It’s late, but let’s have a drink.”

It was that kind of reason.

When I opened the door, the room was already lit. On a heavy desk, several plates and wine bottles were lined up.

The First Prince leaned back in his chair and lightly swirled the cup in his hand.

What was inside was a deep red wine. It was probably something laid to rest in the underground cellars of the royal palace. Simple snacks were lined up on the plates.

Salted roast meat. Thin slices of dried venison.

Hard goat cheese. Along with black bread and nuts preserved in honey.

For a royal banquet, it is quite simple. But for a drink between brothers, this was sufficient.

The First Prince raised his cup.

“It’s late, but—welcome back.”

I lightly picked up my cup.

“I’m back.”

The sound of our cups clinking echoed softly.

I take a sip.

Rich. The moment it rests on my tongue, a weighty astringency spreads. But that is not all. Delayed, the sweetness of ripe fruit faintly remains. It was the rounded depth unique to liquor that has been aged for a long time.

…It’s a strong wine.

However, strangely, there is no unpleasant heaviness. It quietly falls inside.

I tilted my cup just one more time.

The First Prince said while looking at me.

“The rumors about you are ceaseless.”

Pausing just a little, he tilted his cup.

“…You worked hard in the great power, huh.”

I shrugged.

“I didn’t do anything that great.”

“Is that so?”

The First Prince gave a small laugh.

“You received the title of Count of the Court in the great power, were hoisted up by the merchants, and saved people at the hot springs.”

And he swirled his cup.

“At the church, you’re the ‘prince who sees through demons,’ it seems.”

I gave a bitter smile.

“They are mere rumors.”

“I suppose so.”

The First Prince also took a sip of wine. Silence continued for a while. And then, he said it as if it casually came to mind.

“By the way.”

I raise my face. The First Prince continued quietly.

“Won’t you take up work in the court?”

“…Work?”

“Like Assistant Chancellor, or something…”

Saying that, the First Prince lightly tapped the desk with his finger.

“Well, it’d be good if you joined my council.”

I fell silent. The First Prince continues.

“Diplomacy and merchants too, you handle them strangely well.”

He places his cup down.

“It would be more useful to the country if you were by my side.”

The room fell completely silent.

I said nothing for a while.

I just stared at the wine in my cup.

The swaying red sank slightly dark, catching the light.

The surface is quiet, but it is wavering slightly. Just like this very place.

…It’s not a sweet story.

My brother’s words are not a light invitation. The place I am put, and the things I bear, will change.

I tilt my cup slightly.

The red slowly changed its shape.