Chapter 101

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Carl Lindbergh, speechless, stared up at Adrian, who chuckled and gently closed his gaping mouth.

“How…?”

“Later.”

Adrian Heineken, ignoring the monster, which was writhing in mid-air, gestured towards the castle walls.

Belfry, sensing Adrian’s intent, yelled, “Everyone, clear the area!”

The soldiers on the walls, who’d been aiming their cannons at the monster, finally understood. They grabbed the servants and rushed towards the battlements.

“Get away from the building!”

They hadn’t retreated beyond the castle gates because of the prince’s insistence on acting as bait. The gates had been sealed shut, honoring his resolve to protect the villagers.

Marco, mirroring Carl Lindbergh’s earlier shock, scooped Lulu into his arms.

Lulu yelled, “I have legs, you know!”

“I know!”

“Then put me down!”

“Shut up and hold on!”

Lulu, wrapping her arms around Marco’s neck, was heavier than he’d anticipated. But he gritted his teeth and ran.

Elizabeth, torn between following the prince and staying with Marco, finally chose Marco.

“Carl Lindbergh! My son! Don’t do this!”

The Queen’s voice was now a desperate plea.

Adrian, ignoring her, looked down at Carl, who was nestled safely in his arms, and gave the order to fire.

“Son! My son!”

The cannonballs soared through the air, hurtling towards the monster.

BOOM!

Carl Lindbergh watched, his eyes wide, as the monster’s body exploded, its flesh and fluids splattering across the ground. He saw the soldiers quickly erecting magical barriers, shielding the people from the gruesome rain.

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

The main building of Lindbergh Castle, now in ruins, was a hive of activity.

The remains of the monster, covered with specially treated cloths to neutralize its toxic fluids, were being carefully removed. Emergency repairs were underway to stabilize the crumbling structure.

Thanks to the Heineken delegation, which had established a base camp nearby, the restoration efforts were progressing rapidly.

They’d brought skilled artisans from various fields, prepared for any eventuality.

“Carl.”

Adrian’s voice was soft, almost a sigh.

He searched Carl’s face, wondering what the prince was thinking, his gaze distant, unfocused.

He couldn’t comprehend the emotional turmoil Carl must be experiencing, having witnessed his own mother, transformed into a monster, attack him.

He’d deliberately given the order to fire while Carl was still in his arms, certain that Carl Lindbergh, with his gentle nature, would have hesitated. Perhaps it had been a mistake.

He was prepared for Carl Lindbergh’s anger, his accusations, when Carl finally spoke, his voice low.

“I… I can’t forgive them.”

Adrian didn’t ask who he meant.

He simply took Carl Lindbergh’s trembling hand, his grip firm and reassuring.

They finally reached the ground.

Marco, Lulu, and Elizabeth rushed towards them, while Belfry was busy issuing instructions.

Janis, whom Carl hadn’t been able to find, stood among the other servants, her hands signing worried questions to her interpreter as she watched them approach.

Carl jumped down from Adrian’s arms, his usually gentle expression now a mask of cold fury.

Marco and Lulu hesitated, stopping a short distance away.

“This is sickening.”

Carl muttered, his gaze fixed on the monster’s remains.

Adrian, standing behind him like a silent guardian, debated whether to embrace him or simply pat his back.

“Why do people have to suffer because of someone else’s greed?”

“Who? Brust Kitchener?”

Carl nodded.

Lindbergh Castle, reduced to rubble in a single day, the chaos, the confusion, the soldiers carrying out the bodies of their fallen comrades… Carl Lindbergh bit his lip, his heart aching.

“I couldn’t do anything. What good is latent magic? I couldn’t save the Queen, I couldn’t save anyone. I barely escaped with my life.”

Adrian, unable to bear his self-recrimination, pulled him into a tight embrace.

“This isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself. The Heineken Empire is preparing for war against Parman. We’ll be sending out notices to the neighboring nations. Not requests for aid, but a declaration.”

He was about to add that the Empire would avenge his mother when Carl covered his mouth with his hand.

“Of course it’s not my fault. And the Queen… she paid for her crimes. There’s nothing to avenge.”

His voice was cold, his words sharp, carrying to Marco, Lulu, and Belfry.

“Did she truly have no choice? In all those years, raising two children… did she never have a chance to atone for her sins? She probably did. And she chose not to. That was her choice, and her sin.”

Carl Lindbergh’s voice trembled with suppressed rage.

The Queen’s words, 〈He wants you,〉 echoed in his mind, a maddening refrain.

How many times had this happened?

How many innocent people had died?

Why did he have to stand by and do nothing?

He pulled away from Adrian’s embrace and walked over to a fallen soldier.

He removed his cloak and gently covered the soldier’s mangled body, his gaze meeting Adrian’s.

“And the real bastards… they’re nowhere to be seen. While everyone else is cleaning up their mess. Don’t you find that strange?”

Lulu realized her brother had snapped.

This seemingly gentle prince had a history of violence, of breaking noses and flipping tables.

“I appreciate Heineken’s help. Just like when you recklessly summoned me, claiming you wanted to save Lindbergh. I’ll gratefully accept any assistance you offer.”

Carl Lindbergh clenched his fists, his eyes blazing.

Adrian, seeing his fierce expression, fell silent.

“But… I want in.”

“What?”

“Absolutely not.”

Adrian and Belfry spoke in unison, then glared at each other, turning away.

“Carl Lindbergh, war isn’t a game. This might sound harsh, but even if you started training right now, you’d barely be fit for the rear guard.”

Adrian’s tone was firm, mirroring Carl’s seriousness.

War wasn’t child’s play.

Regardless of Carl Lindbergh’s magical power or intelligence, his position as the future Empress was a factor.

Even Adrian Heineken, a skilled warrior, wasn’t allowed to participate directly in combat.

Carl, meeting Adrian’s gaze, saw the love and concern hidden beneath his harsh words, and offered him a small smile.

“I know. I’m not asking to fight on the front lines.”

“Then what?”

What did he mean by ‘I want in’?

Carl’s voice was low, his tone serious.

“I want to witness their downfall. I want to be there, to see it with my own eyes. I’d prefer to execute them myself, but if that’s not possible under Imperial Law, then at least… keep me informed. Let me see the reports, everything.”

Adrian’s eyes widened in realization. Belfry mirrored his expression.

Perhaps they’d known all along.

Carl hadn’t been receiving any reports, any details about the battles, the casualties.

Yet, he’d always described Adrian and Leia as ‘fighting’.

Belfry, who’d dismissed it as a figure of speech, closed his eyes, his heart sinking.

“Adrian, your clothes… they’re covered in blood.”

Adrian’s uniform, stained with blood, was a testament to his relentless pursuit, his disregard for his own well-being. He hadn’t had time to clean himself or change.

And Princess Leia… her sword would also be dripping with blood.

Carl Lindbergh chuckled humorlessly, his smile a mask for his unshed tears.

“I’m tired of being kept in the dark.”

He felt like he’d been thrown into a romance novel, while everyone else was starring in a gritty noir.

Adrian, seeing the tears welling up in Carl’s eyes, grabbed his hand, his grip desperate.

“I wasn’t trying to exclude you, Carl. I was trying to… protect you.”

His attempts to shield Carl had backfired.

“I don’t know how to apologize…”

He tightened his grip, relieved when Carl didn’t pull away.

Carl shook his head. This wasn’t something Adrian needed to apologize for.

This was his own fault, his own weakness, his tendency to avoid conflict.

“I know. I understand why you were so careful, considering my personality. To be honest, if things hadn’t escalated this far, I’d still be hiding, pretending everything was fine.”

He still hated conflict, hated arguments, hated war, hated killing.

The image of the soldier’s head exploding, the sensation of the knife piercing the Queen’s forehead… it felt like a bad dream.

But he could no longer turn away, could no longer let others carry the burden for him. If necessary, he, Carl Lindbergh, would also bear the weight.

“Thank you, Adrian. And I thank His Majesty. For your concern, for trying to protect me.”

Adrian felt a pang of self-loathing. Even now, he wanted to kiss Carl, to hold him close. He craved his warmth.

When Carl Lindbergh pulled his hand away, Adrian was certain he’d lost him, that Carl was disappointed in him, that his gentle nature had finally reached its limit, that he was disgusted by Adrian’s deliberate deception.

What if Carl thought he was an idiot?

As Adrian stared at his empty hand, Carl suddenly wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I know the difference, Adrian. Some people deserve to die. And if the path we’ve chosen is paved with blood… then let’s walk it together.”

“Carl…”

Adrian’s eyes widened in disbelief as he felt Carl’s lips brush against his, a soft, fleeting touch. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Carl, holding him close.

Belfry, witnessing the unexpected display of affection, closed his eyes, while Lulu covered her mouth with her hand. Marco, struggling to restrain Elizabeth, who was trying to reach Carl, saw everything.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Adrian. And… thank you for saving me.”

The protagonist always had impeccable timing. He was grateful for that, at least.

But…

He, Carl Lindbergh, wasn’t a damsel in distress, waiting to be rescued. He was a prince with responsibilities, a lover who didn’t want to hurt the one he loved.

Adrian, inhaling Carl’s scent, a lingering trace of his own pheromones, felt a surge of gratitude.

Carl Lindbergh, nestled in his embrace, gritted his teeth.

“Brust Kitchener, the King of Parman… they’re all disgusting. I’ll crush them all. And we’ll have a grand celebration when your sibling is born. That’s my goal.”