Winter Field – Chapter 10

Author: nicotine

If he were to leave, where would be a good place to go? He could not return to Cornia, so perhaps he should set out on a journey as if he were a poet. Somewhere, there might be a lord or king seeking mercenaries. Somewhere on this vast continent, surely there would be a place where he could look after himself and keep his life. Casting aside his status, changing his name…

Rensley stared blankly into the air when suddenly, a single question came to him.

‘…Isn’t Gisel Siebendad, contrary to what I’ve heard, an extremely reasonable person?’

The world was rife with rumors of a monster cursed for delving into black magic, an eccentric who shunned people, a barbarian with the blood of monsters. But the Archduke Rensley had actually met since arriving in Oldenland had been consistently quiet and a man rational far beyond the average. Even the proposal he had just made to him proved it.

The eerie figure he had encountered at night troubled his mind, but even then, his manner had been courteous. The residents spoke well of him, and the people openly displayed their affection for their homeland and capital.

In that case, perhaps…

Perhaps even if he learned the truth, he might let him escape punishment.

Could it be that he could truly… live as Rensley Malosen, a resident of Castle Loudkhen?

“Princess, your answer.”

The Archduke extended his hand forward. Rensley placed his finger upon his palm.

The finger, which had remained still even after that, finally began to move slowly, tracing letters. More distinctly and clearly than at any time so far.

The Archduke looked directly at Rensley.

The beastly golden eyes were gone without a trace, as if they had been a fragment of a nightmare, and the low-saturation amber eyes were unwavering, like raw gemstones sunken deep underwater. Astonishingly, his flat demeanor and silence were gradually calming even Rensley.

“It makes no difference to me. As you are aware, this marriage is a customary and political procedure in accordance with the Emperor’s command.”

“…”

“If we are to marry, I will fulfill my duties as a husband. That is all.”

…He had loved night markets and festivals. He would get drunk on sweet fruit wine or dark beer and wander through the lukewarm streets, slinging an arm over the shoulders of any familiar face he met.

When he gathered with people that way, the place they often headed to was the street gambling dens that never failed to appear on market days. Even knowing the tricksters were tampering with the dice, Rensley often sat down at the table. For Rensley, too, had a knack for sleight of hand.

But even in trickery, there were levels, and even when using the same cheats, sometimes he won, and sometimes he lost. When he lost his stake and was drinking, his friends would joke, half teasing and half consoling, “That’s why you shouldn’t bet on an obvious scam.” And every time, Rensley would retort, “You never know victory or defeat until you play.”

Rattle, rattle. The sound of dice rolling inside a cup now echoed in his ears.

The safest and most comfortable path would be to cling to his misguided sympathy, quietly leave this country as Yvette Elvanes, but he could not help his cheap, inborn disposition.

Rensley moved his finger and added another sentence.

Instead of an answer, the Archduke only sent a gaze filled with questions. Rensley decided to interpret his silence as affirmation.

Even knowing he was about to commit an irrevocable act, his final hesitation slowed his movements. In gambling, if your hand slips at the very start, it is an ominous sign, and Rensley fumbled once, failing to grip the veil properly.

“Hoo…”

He let out a long breath to calm his mind. Perhaps that breath was longer than expected, for the Archduke, who had been watching Rensley, abruptly extended his hand. His hand approached Rensley’s face, just as it had in the basement a short while ago.

Startled, Rensley nearly recoiled, but he endured it. The hand that had until now served as a slate for his written words this time lingered near his ear.

It felt as though long fingers lightly brushed his cheek and the shell of his ear. Or perhaps he had been mistaken, his sense of touch heightened by fear.

The Archduke slowly drew the veil down. As he pushed back the long hood worn over the head, the blond hair that had been holding its breath inside was revealed, slightly damp. He had always kept it cut short while living in Cornia, but his hair had grown fairly long during the journey to Oldenland.

The fastening button of the face covering, attached to the hood, came undone with a pop. The deep violet silk, the same color as the headdress, slid down over his skin with a speed so light and swift it was almost futile. At a pace that allowed not even a moment’s protest.

With their eyes locked, the bedchamber grew silent, as if the flow of time and air had stopped. They could only look at the silhouettes of themselves reflected in each other’s eyes, unable to utter a word or take the next action. It was as if invisible wax had been poured over their entire bodies and hardened just as it was. Could it be that the world had stopped? His thoughts played tricks on him.

The one who moved first in the frozen world was Rensley. He scrambled up from the bed and threw himself onto the floor as if springing down. Even the Archduke’s eyes, which had betrayed no emotional fluctuation in the short time he had known him, had widened slightly with surprise, at least this once.

“…You are…”

Without giving him a chance to continue his murmured words, Rensley dropped to his knees and bowed his head deeply.

“I will accept any punishment! Only please, spare my life. I swear, I did not do this to insult Your Grace the Archduke!”

The Archduke said nothing. Rensley had prepared various excuses in his mind to appeal to sympathy and offer rational self-defense, but with the Archduke showing no reaction at all, it was difficult to ramble on alone.

With his head bowed, Rensley glanced upward, trying to gauge the other’s expression or mood, but the man’s face would not readily enter his field of vision. In the end, Rensley bowed his head deeply once more and continued speaking.

“Your Grace’s betrothed is indeed Yvette Elvanes. She is not a person who does not exist in this world. She is unmistakably a princess of Cornia and blood of the Cornian royal family. However, two days before the date she was to depart for Oldenland, the princess vanished. And so, with no other choice!”

“Rise.”

A firm suggestion, bordering on a command, cut off Rensley’s words. Rensley shut his mouth and hesitantly raised his head.

The Archduke repeated himself, still seated in the chair. Perhaps his surprise had subsided in the meantime, for his voice was even and without particular agitation.

“Rise, and tell your story slowly. I am inclined to listen, so there is no need to be hasty.”

Rensley rose unsteadily. He clasped his hands in front of him and, with his gaze still fixed on the floor, opened his mouth again, this time somewhat more cautiously.

“I swear on my honor that not a single grain of what I am about to say is a lie.”

An expression that seemed to ask what value his honor could possibly hold fleetingly crossed the Archduke’s face, but he merely gestured lightly, as if urging him to continue.

“The name I gave you a short while ago is my true name. I am called Rensley Malosen, and Princess Yvette Elvanes is my half-sister.”

“…Does that mean you, too, are of royal blood?”

“The King of Cornia has ten children, and two of them are illegitimate. One is Yvette, and the other is myself, Malosen.”

The first queen of the current King of Cornia had borne two children, then was embroiled in her family’s crimes, confined, and died. The second queen bore three and was then deposed. The third queen, who ascended to the position of official consort after the second queen was deposed, bore the current crown prince and died of illness. The fourth and current queen had borne five to date, including twins. And three of the king’s children had died at an early age.

And Yvette Elvanes and Rensley Malosen were each born to different commoner women who claimed their child was of the king’s blood. Only after undergoing a ritual confirming they were children of the king could they be recognized as illegitimate offspring.

“The Cornian royal family values princesses. Some kings are desperate to produce a prince to succeed the throne, but Cornia’s situation is different. Having too few princes makes the succession unstable, but having too many also causes problems. On the other hand, princesses… as long as the succession issue is resolved, having many is not a bad thing. Your Grace must be aware of this as well.”