Chapter 113

According to Viscount Drambuie, magic wielded with the intent to harm was dark magic, while magic used to protect was white magic.

Marquis Macallan, however, disagreed.  She’d argued that such distinctions were irrelevant, mere semantics used by the Temple, that the only thing that mattered was the desired outcome, that sometimes, difficult choices had to be made.

Carl Lindbergh hadn’t agreed with her.

Not only did he find the line between white and dark magic blurry, but he was also hesitant to use offensive magic.

And his hesitation stemmed from his own proficiency.  Every formula he used worked perfectly, precisely as intended.

“Isn’t that what they call an overpowered protagonist?”

Lulu, who insisted on drinking iced beverages even in the dead of winter, crunched on an ice cube as she spoke.

Her brother, the ultimate overpowered protagonist…  It was a dream come true.

Carl Lindbergh, however, frowned, clearly displeased.  He didn’t like being called overpowered.

“I know what it means, but isn’t this a bit excessive?”

Every formula he touched was like a skeleton key, unlocking any magical potential he desired.

He’d started getting nervous whenever he picked up a magic stone.

“What’s excessive?  Being good at magic?  What’s the big deal?  It’s not a bad skill to have. Some people transmigrate into novels they haven’t even read and become experts overnight.  Compared to them…”

“That’s fiction.  This is reality.”

Lulu, scooping up a large dollop of vanilla cream from her Earl Grey pound cake, chuckled.

“Let me correct you, Oppa.  This is a fictional reality, and a realistic fiction.”

Carl Lindbergh ran a hand through his hair, which had grown long enough to cover his forehead and brush against his eyelashes.

Marco, who’d always trimmed his hair, had recently joined the Knight Corps as a trainee, and Carl hadn’t bothered to find a replacement.

His long hair was also a sign of his prolonged inner turmoil, a reminder that his time in Heineken, the time he had to make a decision, was running out.

He’d promised to do whatever it took to protect Leia, Adrian Heineken, and the future of the Empire. However, he was still uncertain about the consequences of his actions.

Marquis Macallan found his hesitation frustrating.

He was choosing the most difficult path, when there were easier solutions.

He spoke of minimizing casualties, of avoiding unnecessary sacrifices for the greater good, but she didn’t understand his reluctance.  What was the point of the greater good if it came at the cost of innocent lives?

“I want to control the range of my magic, to limit its impact.  But I’m scared. I can’t even practice, not knowing the consequences. What if I lose control? What if I become dependent on magic, using it every time I face a problem?”

Or worse, what if he became a tool, manipulated by someone else?

That was often the fate of those with power but lacking conviction.

“You’re a coward.”

“Yes, I am.”

Lulu sighed, setting down her fork.

Her poor brother, still haunted by his past.

“Look at yourself, Oppa.”

She pulled him towards a large mirror.  A beautiful man with pale skin and a young girl with a mischievous grin stood side-by-side, their reflections staring back at them.

“Well?”

“I’ve lost weight.”

Lulu chuckled at his response.

He was staring at his own reflection, his golden hair, his ocean-blue eyes, and all he could say was that he’d lost weight.

“This is Carl Lindbergh.”

Carl, oblivious to her words, simply stared at Lulu’s reflection.

“Carl Lindbergh. Occupation: Prince.  Distinguishing feature: Omega.”

Lulu cupped his chin in her hands, as if introducing an actor on stage.

“Born and raised in Lindbergh, he left the castle, disillusioned by his privileged life, then met the Crown Prince of Heineken and fell in love.”

Carl Lindbergh’s face flushed.

Honestly, his shyness was becoming excessive.  They’d seen each other naked.  Why was he still blushing?

“He’s worried about making mistakes, about not being good enough, despite his exceptional magical talent. But his worries are unfounded.”

Carl flinched at her unexpected words.

Unfounded?

Lulu circled him, her gaze scrutinizing him from head to toe.

Jeon Woo-young used to do this when he was trying to cheer her up.

“He has a loving and devoted partner, who will always be there for him. He has supportive parents-in-law who adore him, and a strong and capable older sister.  There are countless people who would steer him back on track if he strayed.  He’s destined for a happy ending.”

What was she talking about?

Carl Lindbergh chuckled awkwardly.

“I’ve created a character sheet for you.”

Lulu explained.

A new Carl Lindbergh. A new Jeon Woo-young.

Her eyes, still tinged with sadness, softened as she gently took his hand.

His hands, once calloused and scarred, were now smooth and unblemished.

“Jeon Woo-young, the one who sacrificed his youth, working tirelessly to provide for his younger sister, the one who had nothing, no money, no support… he’s sleeping soundly.  He’s not coming back.”

She poked him lightly near his navel.

If Marco or Belfry saw this, they’d rush in, ready to defend the prince’s honor.

“Jae-young…”

“Oppa, I understand now. You were always so careful, so cautious, afraid of being a burden, of being judged for being an orphan.”

Jeon Woo-young hadn’t had the luxury of making mistakes.  He’d become obsessed with avoiding them.

“But you’re not an orphan anymore. Look around you, Oppa.  So many people care about you.  No one would blame you for using your magic, even recklessly.  But if you ever lose your way, if you ever misuse your power, I’ll stop you.  And Adrian Heineken, Leia Lindbergh… they know you’d never intentionally harm anyone.  Don’t worry.”

Carl Lindbergh nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. He was so proud of her, of how much she’d grown.

“Thank you.”

“If you’re truly grateful, then bake me some croissants tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Carl Lindbergh, smiling, showed her the map he’d been studying.

“This is the character ‘li,’ meaning ‘to govern.’  The focal point, the intersection of the strokes, is located beneath Parman. I’ve been trying to find a way to disrupt it from above ground, but these are all major cities.  I can’t risk civilian casualties. What would you do?  If you could sever just one point, one connection, rendering the character meaningless…”

Lulu rested her chin on her hand, blinking thoughtfully.  Then she said:

“You said this means ‘to govern’? I thought this character, 理, meant ‘reason,’ or ‘logic,’ as in…  the natural order of things.”

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

The tension between Carl and Adrian was palpable, a cold wind blowing between them. Ayla’s nanny, observing them, was pleased, while Ayla herself felt a flicker of unease.

With Leia Lindbergh away, Carl Lindbergh was responsible for receiving her, but Adrian Heineken, who was sitting beside him, radiating displeasure, clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Normally, Adrian’s moods revolved around Carl Lindbergh, his displeasure easily soothed by Carl’s attention. But today, even Carl seemed distant.

“Welcome to Lindbergh, Princess Ayla.  I apologize for the  state of the castle. We hope you enjoy your stay, despite the ongoing renovations.”

“Thank you for accepting my  sudden request, Your Highness.”

Carl Lindbergh’s polite, almost business-like smile made Adrian’s expression even colder.

“We’ve prepared a room for you in the annex. The main building is still under renovation. Your luggage has already been transported. This servant will escort you.”

He gestured towards a maid standing behind them.

Ayla, glancing at the maid, hesitated, then, catching her nanny’s eye, finally spoke.

“When… will Princess Leia Lindbergh return?”

She could feel her nanny’s disapproving glare, but she didn’t look back.

“My sister will be returning by the end of the week.  We’ll have a welcoming banquet for you then, Princess Ayla.”

‘End of the week’ meant only four days, including the weekend, so ‘soon’ was a perfectly acceptable answer.

Ayla, relieved, followed the maid.  Adrian, annoyed by Carl’s overly polite tone, gritted his teeth.

He hadn’t even spared Ayla a single glance, yet he was all smiles and charm with the princess.  It was infuriating.

“I hope you enjoy your stay. Please, don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness.”

Ayla and her nanny exited the drawing room.

Moments later, raised voices echoed from within, and the servants quickly closed the doors, muffling the sound.

“So much for being madly in love. I guess it was all an exaggeration.”

The maid, who’d overheard the nanny’s whispered comment to Ayla, scoffed.

“Watch your tongue. This is Lindbergh Castle.”

Ayla, embarrassed by her nanny’s rudeness, reprimanded her.  She could practically feel the maid’s disapproving glare.

“Well, it seems like our princess might have a chance, after all, if they’re already…”

The maid’s reflection in the hallway window darkened.

“Be quiet.  We’ll be lucky if we’re not banished to the dungeons.”

The Crown Prince’s possessiveness, his yearning for Carl Lindbergh’s attention…  it was just lovers’ quarrel.

Ayla, unconcerned about their relationship, just hoped Leia Lindbergh would return soon.