Chapter 48: The Two Princes in the Noble Prison

It was well known that the First Prince had been confined in the noble prison.

Before enrolling in the academy, the prince—who held succession rights to the throne—had been outstanding.
However, there he grew close to a baron’s daughter.

If that closeness had remained within proper bounds, it might have been fine.
Instead, it led to the worst possible outcome.

His relationship with his fiancée, the Duke of Armandine’s daughter, grew cold, creating discord between the two houses.
He ignored the counsel of sensible nobles and became consumed by fleeting passion.
As a result, those who remained by his side were only foolish retainers seeking to benefit from royal authority.

What made matters worse was the nature of that baron’s daughter.

At first glance, she appeared delicate and charming like a small animal.
In truth, she was nothing short of a femme fatale.
She seduced one of the prince’s knights, used him as a stepping stone, and approached the First Prince.
Unsatisfied, rumors spread that she also set her sights on the son of the prime minister who served the prince.
She even flirted with the Second Prince, and whispers extended to teachers and other young nobles.

Some of it may have been jealousy or resentment.
But rumors, once spread, are a terrifying thing.

Stories circulated of secret meetings behind the school building and embraces in the greenhouse.

The princes were always accompanied by guards—who also served as observers, assessing their qualities as future rulers.

The results were disastrous.
Both princes had been manipulated completely by a single girl.
Competing with their retainers, they showered her with jewels and dresses, causing problems at her instigation.
Lucas, in particular, had been the worst.
It was likely because she had clung most persistently to him.

Eventually, their tyranny led to an incident serious enough to spill beyond the academy.

By chance, a young lady of high nobility had been visiting the academy to meet acquaintances.
She happened to be the daughter of one of the most powerful figures in the nation.

Lucas falsely accused her, verbally abused her, and even caused her injury.

That figure—the Duke of Latiche—responded with overwhelming fury.
It was said his judgment nearly bordered on annihilating all involved.
Only through the mercy of the duke’s daughter were executions kept to a minimum.

Lucas was now facing the consequences of repeatedly ignoring the king and others’ warnings.

After the incident, he was placed in the noble prison.
His initial despair had been extreme—so severe that some feared he might lose his mind entirely.
Yet, as expectations from others had already collapsed, few paid him much attention.

Instead, it was Queen Mazerin—who had wanted him to ascend the throne—whose breakdown was more unbearable to witness.

Fortunately, the Second Prince Leold had also been involved and reprimanded, which softened the situation somewhat.

As time passed, Lucas gradually returned to his original, rational self.
The emotional volatility and impulsiveness he had shown under the baron’s daughter’s influence disappeared.

Though his appetite had diminished greatly, he quietly served his confinement.

“Brother, haven’t you grown thinner again?”

“…Leold. I simply have no appetite.”

“At this rate, your health will fail.”

It was said he now ate less than half of what he once did.
Even those disappointed in him still cared for him.

Especially those who had known the brilliant Lucas since childhood.

“I have effectively been removed from the succession. No one cares anymore.”

“Brother…!”

Leold instinctively called out in protest at such uncharacteristic self-deprecation.

Lucas merely smiled faintly, as if he had come to terms with it.
His once refined features had become gaunt.
His trained body had weakened visibly—he resembled a sick man.

To Leold, Lucas had always been an insurmountable wall.

Their mother, the Second Consort Ophir, had always viewed Lucas and Queen Mazerin as enemies.
Even when she smiled elegantly in public, she would glare like a demon in private and command Leold never to lose to the First Prince.

Lucas, graceful and commanding even as a child, still retained elegance in his movements—
but the strength behind them was gone.

“Is Renaria still with Graham?”

“…I understand it’s hard to let go, but surely there’s nothing more to be done.”

“Yes. Graham still refuses to listen.

We rescued the girl who had been imprisoned, but her throat was crushed.
It will take time for her to recover.

He insists he doesn’t know where Renaria is.
He must be hiding her somewhere.

The prime minister seems to have realized the situation, but likely out of fear of further charges, it has been concealed.”

“Can the girl not write? …Was she taken from the slums?”

“Yes. She was actually a slave brought by a foreign merchant.

She is an important witness, so we’ve entrusted her to a reliable party.”

Slavery was forbidden in this country, but not in neighboring lands.

The rescued girl had been given better food and clothing, so her confinement had not troubled her much.
However, being forced to remain still with her face down had exhausted her.

When rescued, she was unsteady on her feet.

Her previous master had abused her—her body was covered in scars.

“I’ve caused you trouble, Leold. Because of my inadequacy…

What of Cain, Joshua, and Findor?”

“Cain has been transferred from the academy to the Magic Institute.
He’s emotionally unstable and under supervision by royal mages.

Joshua has been disowned by House Dampel and will be sent as a soldier to the border.

Findor will continue as a teacher… though he was merely one-sidedly favored by Renaria.
He’s likely relieved.”

“I see. That is reasonable.

Findor is young but an excellent teacher. I’m glad his future wasn’t ruined.”

Lucas reflected that the teacher had likely been unable to oppose a favored noblewoman under his own former tyranny.

“You used to glare at him when Renaria was nearby.”

“That was then. Now I’ve awakened.

It feels like I was trapped in a long, bad dream.”

Lucas smiled faintly, his pale green eyes calm—utterly devoid of the former burning obsession.

Leold pressed further.

“…Are you certain you’ve let go of Renaria?”

“Yes. I bear part of the blame, but her crimes must be judged properly.

There is no possibility of pardon.
Seeking one would only worsen matters.

…And you, Leold—you pursued her as well. Have you decided?”

“Long before you did.”

“You wound me.”

Leold had never been as attached as Lucas.
He had only taken interest because his brother had.

He did not even realize he had envied Lucas’s desperate love.

Only his fiancée, Catherine, had understood.

She had watched silently, even as Lucas’s own fiancée, Vivian, struggled in anguish.

Vivian had truly loved Lucas—not as a prince, but as a man.
She had opposed Renaria despite knowing it would earn his resentment.
Even her harsh words had been attempts to shape Renaria into someone worthy of standing beside him.

Her actions held pride, strength, and quiet heartbreak.

The real problem now was Graham.
Even after everything, he showed no signs of awakening—if anything, his obsession had deepened.

The prime minister was desperately suppressing information, but if Renaria were missing at the time of execution, the truth would inevitably surface.

The king, Lauzes, had agreed to secretly search for her.

Leold continued trying to persuade Graham.

Capturing him outright was risky—Renaria was skilled at manipulating men and could easily change hiding places.

Until her movements were clearer, they would let him act freely.

She had to be captured alive.

Her crimes were so grave that only a public execution would satisfy the people.

“Prince Leold, it is time.”

“Very well. Farewell, Brother. Shall I bring sweets next time?”

“I’ve had enough sweets. Bring books instead.

Count Kreutz lent me some works on other tribes and nations.
Their myths and histories are fascinating—far different from our own perspective.”

“…Brother, once you’ve finished, may I borrow them as well?”

“I will ask him. They are his personal collection.”

“Please do.”

“…You’re finally smiling properly.

As the succession struggle intensified, you stopped smiling.

You smiled quite a lot around Renaria, so I thought you were serious.”

Leold realized Lucas was referring to the books she had given him.

He had always preferred quiet pursuits like reading, though his mother never allowed it.

Now, seeing that his brother had been watching him more closely than he realized—

Leold let out a small, wry smile.

On his way back to his chambers, Leold noticed a tall figure approaching.

The moment the man noticed him, he placed a hand over his chest and offered a graceful bow of a vassal.

Leold was startled by his appearance.
He could feel his body stiffen.

A refined beauty that strongly resembled Greil von Latiche.

The shock made him falter.
But after a moment, he realized—it was only natural.
This man was the duke’s younger brother.

Glossy pale blond hair.
Jewel-like blue eyes.
An almost inhuman beauty.

Yet, unlike Greil, his expression was gentle.
He wore an approachable smile and spoke with warmth, which had made him popular in high society even now.
Still, he was known to avoid the capital’s noise and political struggles, preferring to live quietly in the countryside as a count.

This was Count Kreutz—Zephar von Kreutz—Greil’s younger brother.

While Greil appeared eternally in his late twenties, Zephar looked closer to his mid-thirties.
His complexion was pale, his eyes slightly sunken—fatigue evident.
In truth, he should only have been in his mid-to-late twenties.

Leold understood why.

The recent turmoil had drastically reshaped the noble landscape of the Sandis Kingdom.
Some had fallen, others had risen.
Even someone like Zephar, who should have remained secluded, must have been dragged back into the capital’s chaos.

He had heard that Zephar was not as exceptional as his brother, but was gentle and skilled at managing relationships.
At the same time, his kindness and beauty often led to romantic entanglements, which was another reason he avoided high society.

Perhaps Catherine would know more.

“Prince Leold, it is an honor to see you again. It has been some time.”

“Indeed. It has.”

Honestly, Leold did not remember him.

He knew the rumors, but the resemblance to Greil unsettled him too much to focus.

“How is Prince Lucas faring?

If it pleases you, I have brought books as a gift.”

Even his voice resembled Greil’s—though far softer.

Yet that gentle tone sent a chill down Leold’s spine.
Not fear of the man himself, but something instinctive.

Zephar must have guessed where Leold had come from.

There were few people Leold would visit in the direction he had come from.

Leold could now move somewhat freely under supervision,
but Lucas remained under strict confinement.

Leold’s limited freedom existed partly so he could persuade Graham and also because the king worried about Lucas’s condition.

“I believe he is doing well enough.

I heard he was looking forward to your books. I would appreciate it if you could give them to him.”

“I am relieved to hear that.

The last time we met, he backed away at the sight of me and tried to flee…

It seems my brother was quite severe with him.

As a vassal, I do not deny his intent to admonish the prince—
but the Duke of Latiche can be… intense. It must have been quite a shock.”

Leold could not deny it.

Not the duke’s actions—but the shock itself.

Zephar spoke gently, but the faint bitterness behind his smile revealed the hardship he carried.

Being that duke’s younger brother could not have been easy.

At the same time, Leold understood Lucas’s reaction all too well.

He himself was still experiencing it.

Lucas had been seated, forced to watch the severed heads of his own guards and acquaintances laid out before him.

Zephar looked apologetic.

Leold found himself wondering—how could such a man be the brother of that monster?

One was like a demon king.
The other clearly possessed a human heart.

“…You are not at fault.

My brother was looking forward to your books.”

That was not a lie.

But Leold could not say more.

The man’s face and voice kept dragging his trauma back to the surface.

“I am glad to hear it.”

With a gentle smile, Zephar bowed and left without commenting on Leold’s awkward behavior.

Leold had been trained not to show emotions openly.

But overcoming that fear immediately was impossible.

Zephar likely faced such reactions often—
yet he chose not to address them.

(…Come to think of it, the Duke of Latiche is the second son.

There should be an elder brother as well…

I heard he married into another family… which house was it…?)

Surely there weren’t more people with that face.

Leold shuddered as he walked.

Only later did he realize he had forgotten to ask to borrow the books.

Each time the memory resurfaced, he grew visibly unsettled.

His attendant knight, Walrieg Carreras, seeing this, summoned a physician.
He was simply fulfilling his duty.

Even for a flawed royal, his loyalty did not waver.

With the First Prince confined, the next heir was effectively Leold alone.

The royal crest etched into his hand,
and his slightly bluish green eyes—

With no expectation of more children from the aging king,
Leold was the last direct candidate fit to rule.

Though flawed, his future child might inherit the throne instead.

Regardless, the royal magical artifacts—vital to national defense—ensured the line could not easily shift to distant branches.

Princess Elmedia had blue eyes and no royal crest.
She had been left unchecked, her laziness tolerated.

Recently, however, the queen was desperately trying to educate her.
Naturally, the spoiled princess resisted fiercely.

It was said she had gained even more weight after being rejected by Michaelis.

Leold felt exasperated.

She need not be thin—but at least she should not resemble a troll.

Her appearance, more than her personality, made her unsuitable for public duties.

The queen’s faction had long focused only on Lucas.
Now they scrambled too late.

They were even searching desperately for someone—anyone—with green eyes to marry into Elmedia’s line.

But due to past epidemics, such bloodlines were exceedingly rare.

Queen Mazerin had finally come to her senses—
yet she ignored her weakened son.

Meanwhile, Leold’s own mother, Ophir, was delighted by Lucas’s fall.

Leold felt disgust, but said nothing.

The palace was beautiful.

Inside, it was filled with ugliness—
schemes, betrayal, and laughter over others’ ruin.

There was something Leold had never told Lucas.

He had realized Renaria’s true nature long before his brother.

Her innocent demeanor shifted subtly depending on who she faced.

Leold had assumed Lucas would notice.

He was wrong.

Lucas became consumed.
And before he knew it, Leold himself had fallen under her influence.

Now, he could not understand why.

Each time he felt doubt, it vanished in her presence.

What remained in memory were fragments—

A sweet scent.
Homemade sweets and custom tea blends.
Gifts that felt as if she saw through him.
Her clinging touch.
And her occasional strange, unnatural words.

The pieces did not fit.

But they were there.

Scattered.

Not yet connected—
but enough to suggest something deeply wrong.

He had to act quickly.

Yet his freedom was now severely restricted.
His retainers had been replaced.
There was no one he could fully trust to act in secret.

Reliable people were present—
but trust and reliance were not the same.

And Leold himself had lost credibility.

Reputation could be destroyed instantly,
but rebuilding it took time.

He had known that.

So why had he forgotten?

Why had he not stopped Lucas?
Why had he not left Renaria’s side?
Why had he remained within that twisted circle?

If only he had warned the king sooner—

…

It was too late now.