Chapter 206, Please Bear With It, Master (3)

Translator: Hedge

Editor: Lizzz

 

A voice emerged, sounding as if this was no longer surprising.

 

“It’s Beurisen again.”

 

At that small muttering, Grand Chamberlain Raul, who was beside him, bowed his head, conveying that he fully empathized with Rmain’s mood.

 

This was around the time when Kalian had ‘barked’ and Plants had ‘flailed about’, and they had agreed to something resembling a rough reconciliation.

 

Thanks to the pleasant conversation with Plants he had met when leaving Arpia Palace, Rmain had entered Senu Hall with a considerably lightened heart. However, in an instant his mood became extremely unpleasant as he looked down at the Nobles.

 

He had just received a report about what had happened at Senu Hall during the brief delay in his arrival from Arpia Palace.

 

Strictly speaking, Evan had been wrong nine hundred and ninety-nine times, and Dmirea had done something resembling ‘wrongdoing’ about once. However, even if it was Evan who had been wrong nine hundred and ninety-nine times, the one thing Dmirea had committed was too much.

 

The overall concern was what Evan might scheme using this incident as an excuse.

 

Rmain’s eyes, which had been looking at the Nobles gathered in the conference room one by one, stopped in front of Dmirea. As if following that gaze, a low voice flowed out.

 

“Lesser Duchess Siegfried.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

 

Dmirea answered in a calm voice, as if proving that while she inherited Sleiman’s appearance, her personality did not resemble his even by a mustard seed’s worth.

 

Rmain, who had been staring at Dmirea standing among the talkative Nobles for a moment, opened his mouth.

 

“I heard that despite being the heir of a Ducal Family, who should set an example, you directed killing intent toward another Noble.”

 

Dmirea remained still without making any excuses. And Evan carefully surveyed the assembled company, taking care not to let his inner feelings, about having caught a proper handle, show on his face. In other words, he was careful not to show that he felt pleased.

 

Whether it was because of that pleasant mood or because of his perpetually light head that was always only cheerful that prevented him from noticing that Rmain had just now grouped everyone except the Ducal Family to which Dmirea belonged, that was, everyone including Evan himself, as simply ‘Nobles’, only Serenty would know.

 

Rmain, who had been staring at Evan longer than at Dmirea who was listening to his words, turned his head toward Dmirea and continued speaking.

 

“You must be careful so that such words are not heard of again in the future.”

 

Rmain closed his mouth after saying just that one sentence. Setting aside the age difference, even though the child of a Duke had threatened a Marquis, he concluded the matter by simply saying not to do so in the future. Since he had ended it with just one word like this, Evan, who would certainly not be pleased with Rmain’s handling of the matter, turned his head to the other side to hide the furrowing of his eyes.

 

“Yes, Your Majesty. I will take heed.”

 

And Dmirea bowed her head and answered with an unchanged face, as if she had expected such a reaction from Rmain. She did not even say with her own mouth that she would ‘be careful,’ but merely said she would ‘take heed.’

 

Where else in the world could one find such unprincipled and biased treatment and such a shameless response?

 

“Your Majesty.”

 

Therefore, Evan called out to Rmain, being careful not to let his uncomfortable feelings show.

 

In fact, if it had been this same time two years ago, there would have been no need to call Rmain in such a demure voice. No, in the first place, hadn’t Rmain of that time been unable to even create such a situation?

 

In any case, no matter how much he thought about that time, time would not turn back. So Evan, who quickly escaped from useless delusions of the past that would be of no help now, opened his mouth toward Rmain who was looking at him.

 

“As Your Majesty said, it is clearly wrong for the Heiress of the Ducal Family, who should set an example for all Nobles, to commit such an outrageous act within the Royal Palace. I believe there should be appropriate punishment.”

 

Rmain did not answer immediately.

 

Rmain, who had been staring at Evan for a long time with his characteristically deep blue eyes, spoke as if repeating Evan’s words in his mouth.

 

“Appropriate punishment.”

 

Hearing that voice, Dmirea quietly lowered her gaze.

 

If Evan had been the type of person who knew how to consider who had been wrong first, he would not have created this situation in the first place. However, Dmirea did not show an annoyed face toward such an Evan, nor did she look at him with contempt, nor did she glare at Evan with anger. She simply did not engage in any such unnecessary actions. She kept her mouth shut without making a single word of protest about who had started the fight first. Because there would be nothing good from saying it.

 

Rmain, who had been observing for a moment how starkly different Dmirea’s and Evan’s responses were, opened his mouth again.

 

“As the Marquis said, the Lesser Duchess is the Heiress of a Ducal Family, so the Lesser Duchess’s wrongdoing must be seen as the wrongdoing of Siegfried.”

 

In a situation where the Nobles were staring only at Rmain’s mouth without making a sound of breathing, Rmain brought out his next words.

 

“Therefore, if the Lesser Duchess is guilty, it would be proper to hold the Duke, who is the Head of the Family, accountable for that guilt. If we strip the current Duke Siegfried of his title for the crime of leaving his Heiress alone in the capital and neglecting her, would that be an appropriate punishment for that wrongdoing?”

 

Strip the Duke of his position?

 

At Rmain’s words, which were as shocking as the news about Freya Hwiteurin’s new title, all the Nobles’ eyes widened as if they would pop out. Needless to say, Evan’s did too.

 

A Noble’s title was inherited only in the case of death. If there was one exception, it was when only the title was stripped by Royal command for holding the Noble individually accountable for a crime. At this time, if there is a legitimate Heir to the Family, the title would be forcibly inherited by that Heir.

 

Of course, this content was also in the law books.

 

But was he not a Duke, of all people?

 

He was someone with status equal to the Princes. There had been no precedent for stripping a Duke of his title. Even for Nobles other than Dukes, there had never been a single case of receiving such punishment merely because an Heir had directed killing intent during an argument with another Noble.

 

Nevertheless, there was not a single person looking at Rmain with eyes wondering if His Highness had lost his mind.

 

Rmain, who had closed his mouth as if giving the Nobles time to think for a moment, spoke again.

 

“It’s not a very welcome action to bring a trivial argument that you couldn’t resolve on your own to me and specifically ask for punishment, but I do understand the Marquis’s aggrieved feelings. So, I will impose punishment on Duke Siegfried as you desire.”

 

Evan’s head spun rapidly.

 

If what Rmain said was truly sincere, and if by any chance it actually came to pass, inheritance would immediately pass to Dmirea.

 

Therefore, this was Rmain’s scheme to use this incident as an excuse to properly hand power over to Kalian.

 

[Rmain!]

 

If he told Sleiman, who was not of much help to either Rmain or Kalian, to give up his title, Sleiman would seize the opportunity to return his title and then spend the rest of his life wonderfully traveling throughout the whole of Cyries with Seri. After enjoying such travels and growing tired, he would then spend a peaceful old age somewhere in the south swinging his sword. As for Dmirea, who had become properly addicted to politics, she would be made into a real Duchess and give Kalian her support.

 

His intention was transparent: to give legitimacy to one of Kalian’s empty hands and an impenetrable shield to the other, placing Kalian on a proper throne completely different from Rmain’s.

 

Evan, who had tried to properly oppose Freya Hwiteurin’s new title using this incident, but was about to get caught instead, spoke as if nothing had happened.

 

“No, Your Majesty. I will resolve it amicably on my own.”

 

It was clear that no matter what Dmirea did in front of Evan in the future, Evan would not be able to request punishment from Rmain over it. Because no matter what wrongdoing Dmirea committed, Rmain would unconditionally say he would strip Sleiman of his title. Rather, Evan would have to go around opposing punishment for Dmirea.

 

Rmain’s deep blue eyes gazed at Evan once more.

 

For a moment, Evan thought that he would never forget those blue eyes that shone with such a sharp light that it was hard to believe this was the same person as on some irreversible day in the past.

 

“I see. It’s fortunate that you say you’ll do it yourself.”

 

Rmain said this without adding any other words and then turned his head away from Evan. And he gave a short nod to Grand Chamberlain Raul.

 

Finally, the meeting began.

 

* * *

 

Smart people were bothersome, and sensitive people were troublesome.

 

Dealing with someone who was both smart and sensitive was truly unpleasant. It was already extremely unpleasant to discover that his older brother turned out to be very smart and very sensitive. He was exactly that kind of person, but watching that same person suddenly charge forward saying he would act as his older brother was truly complicated. Complicated, frustrating, absurd, and moreover.

 

“That won’t do.”

 

It required great patience.

 

A great deal of it, at that.

 

“Why.”

 

“I told you. I’ll do it.”

 

[I’ve already said it three times already.]

 

At the birthday banquet hall he endured because of Evan, at Wilhelm Hall he endured because of Arsene. Today, he endured because of that grass-head. Especially today, he truly endured. Endured very, very much—so much so that even he believes he should be admired for it.

 

Kalian truly thought in his heart, [I’ve really grown up now, from today I’m truly an adult. So, it would be fine to drink alcohol now, I really, really endured well.]

 

That lime-green ‘messenger bird’ who suddenly demands he hand over the ring saying he would have a conversation with those from Secritia… Though he said he does not like being treated as a messenger bird, he sure was acting like one…

 

Anyway, to the man who was like a fresh potato sprout, Kalian clearly said he would speak directly. He had even said it three times, so there was no way that good head of his would not understand. There was no way he did not grasp why Kalian was refusing. This potato knows damn well that he could not lie, so it was not that he does not trust his words, that he would tell him about this matter without hiding anything.

 

“So please tell me what Your Highness wants to say.”

 

Kalian decided to just let him be about acting as an older brother. Anyway, the fact that it was this guy who continued to call Kalian ‘Kalian,’ despite knowing the truth, helped shake off some guilt about the old Kalian. It properly acknowledges where Kalian should be now and whom he should live as. It felt truly ironic though, but Kalian was quite grateful nonetheless.

 

It felt like he had pulled him out from being trapped in ice where he had lost his way and was blocked on all sides. Yes. He decided to be truly grateful for that.

 

But that was that and this was this.

 

Does he think Kalian would hand over the ring, knowing what this guy would say to Chase?

 

“I understand.”

 

Plants, who had been leisurely watching Kalian wavering between constantly rising anger and patience, took a sip of strawberry tea, set it down, and continued with a face full of ease.

 

“Hand it over, that thing.”

 

[Ah. Serenty. What sin did I commit in my previous life that I must live every day enduring patience, entangled with such a fellow like an unripe strawberry stem?]

 

[Or, Master. Do you perhaps put some memory-deteriorating medicine in that strawberry tea? If you have such medicine, why don’t you send some to Secritia instead of feeding that good stuff to such a fellow who can’t even distinguish between potato sprouts and strawberry stems?]

 

Like this, Kalian, who once again pressed down the frustration with nowhere to go and the steadily rising anger, looked at Plants with unwavering eyes. Then, since he had already sought out Serenty and Allan once each in his heart, he recalled the mindset of one cultivating to understand the truth of human life and answered calmly.

 

“If you tell me, I’ll convey it on your behalf.”

 

“I said I’ll do it myself.”

 

Kalian smiled brightly.

 

“Ah. Maybe I should have just gotten rid of it.”

 

Though it was a bit belated, he really should have just killed him earlier.

 

He should have just killed both Arsene and this guy, who was like a freshly grown bamboo shoot kernel, followed Master to the south, and then lived raising Raven and Luci.

 

Whether the world ends tomorrow or not, he should have lived buying ripe strawberries and strawberry ice cream for his lovely Hina, who was like spring sunshine, summer showers, autumn sunset, and winter snowflakes. She was so precious that he worried she might wear away just from being looked at, making each day regrettable…

 

He should have lived with Kyrie sucking on coconut innards. Living in the south, whether having conversations with cliffs, conversations with trees, or conversations with crashing waves. Anyway, living like that. Living like that would have been less frustrating.

 

“What.”

 

Seeing Plants, whose eyes seemed to say ‘What are you saying you’ll get rid of? You just spoke informally again. Did you learn to rampage without knowing your place from Debeullan? Where does that bastard live? I need to meet him to see what he taught you.’ –or something along those lines.

 

Kalian smiled prettily once more and added.

 

“It is something, something like a bamboo shoot kernel.”

 

Plants, who had an expression that made it unclear whether he understood what a bamboo shoot kernel was or not, raised one corner of his lips toward his red-eyed younger brother.

 

“Lannen Beurisen came to the Royal Palace.”

 

[Ah, damn it. Which bastard is it? Is that bastard worse than the one who made beer?]

 

“…Who said he came to the Royal Palace?”

 

“Don’t know.”

 

Kalian, who was looking at Plants, who had just extended Nidlen’s life significantly with just two syllables, let out a deep, deep sigh.

 

He was threatening him again by putting his heart on the line.

 

Before thinking about why Lannen might have come, for what reason Evan might have brought Lannen along, whether Arsene really went near where Gray is because of the Teleportation Magic Circle, and so on, he handed it over.

 

Kalian, who made another firm resolution that he must quickly kill Evan so Plants could not do this anymore, took off the ring with a face full of self-loathing and regret and placed it on the table. Then, because he felt like his insides were burning, he downed in one gulp the strawberry tea that had been placed as Allan’s portion.

 

“Please don’t say strange things.”

 

“I don’t have a hobby of barking. Unlike someone.”

 

Watching Kalian begin another deep, deep contemplation about whether to eliminate Debeullan first, Evan first, or the pea sitting in front of him first, Plants chuckled and tapped the ring.

 

“Mana.”

 

Though he had thought about learning some Magic to remove Luci’s fur, in any case he could not handle Mana at all right now. So, it was a demand to quickly connect it.

 

In the end, Kalian, who had yielded to that pea’s stubbornness once again, let out a sigh that seemed to be becoming a habit and infused Mana into the ring.

 

After that, Kalian, thinking that Plants had probably started the conversation while concentrating on the ring, looked around since he had nothing to do for the moment.

 

The cozy office that had now become as familiar as Kalian’s own room. Just being in this place made him feel much more relaxed. Because he knew this was all thanks to Allan who always prioritized Kalian…

 

Prioritizing Kalian…

 

“Master?”

 

Only then did Kalian, feeling something was missing, mutter quietly. It was because he could not sense Allan’s presence, who had been outside the office until just a moment ago.

 

[Normally I would have passed it over, thinking he must have leisurely gone for a walk somewhere, but isn’t today a bit too different?]

 

Kalian, who only now recalled what Allan had said just before he burst into the office, opened his mouth with an awkward smile.

 

“No way.”

 

[Surely he’s not at some Royal Palace near a coastal village right now, right?]

 

“…No, surely not.”

Muttering this once more and briefly recalling what kind of person Allan was, Kalian sprang up from his seat.

 

He needed to go find his Master, who apparently went out for a bit to a rather distant place because of the stormy pea.