Separate from the noise inside me, the hunting competition concluded successfully. During the two-day festival held after the main competition ended, those who showed excellent results and ranked received rewards. His Highness gave gifts worthy of pride to knights from other countries who participated by invitation or application, and created a satisfying festival for everyone by sending relief grain to the capital and border regions.
‘I had to stay by his side throughout the banquet.’
By the second day of the festival, I’d grown accustomed to the whispering words about me. Perhaps it was because there was something else more concerning.
‘Was it my imagination?’
I had other thoughts throughout the banquet, yet no conclusion came. The suspicion that ‘His Highness might already know about my identity, might be waiting for me to confess the truth with my own mouth’ neither deepened nor was resolved, continuing as it was.
Two weeks passed that way. His Highness still treated me affectionately as if treating a lover. The problem was that those sweet actions sometimes felt similar to when His Highness treated ‘Tiel.’ If he was seeing me as a substitute for ‘Tiel,’ that sense of déjà vu wouldn’t be particularly strange, but the suspicion that bloomed once kept asking ‘Is that really all there is to it?’ That’s how I was occasionally anxious, watched for signs, and yet inevitably often happy.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“No.”
I suddenly came to my senses at the voice whispering in my ear.
“Then there must be no knights that catch your eye. They’re still students, so that’s understandable.”
Today I visited the imperial palace’s academy with His Highness. Originally we were only supposed to meet the headmaster and leave, but to boost the students’ morale as well, we ended up doing a brief inspection. This was the second observation, and a sword sparring match of fourth-year students was in progress.
“I apologize. Actually, I was a bit sleepy and couldn’t concentrate.”
I hastily made an excuse, but it wasn’t a lie. Was it since last week? Days continued where no matter how much I slept, the fatigue didn’t lift. Even though I slept the entire time in the carriage on the way to the academy today, drowsiness kept washing over me.
‘How pathetic.’
I sighed at the fact that far from escorting His Highness, I was only being protected. No matter how much I pushed myself, my body couldn’t escape its state like a sick chicken.
“You’re not feeling unwell?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Didn’t you have a physician come check this morning as well?”
“Then that’s good.”
It wasn’t just me who felt something wrong with my body—a physician had come every day since last week to check my condition. It was a bit strange that after the examination, they didn’t talk with me but only reported to His Highness.
‘If there’s a particular problem, he’ll tell me.’
Erasing useless thoughts, I straightened my back and looked ahead. The sparring was very passionate, enough to feel sorry for not concentrating. Since the Crown Prince was observing in person, their morale had every reason to be high. I felt a sense of duty that I should do something.
“That student sparring in the very front seems to have quite a talent. He’s making a slight effort to wrap himself in sword energy.”
“Right. Not bad.”
To His Highness, who had handled sword energy even before entering the academy, it seemed utterly unsatisfactory. In fact, when compared to His Highness, most prodigies became ordinary, so there was no particular reason to feel discouraged.
“I think watching this much of this class will be enough.”
“Yes. The headmaster and several professors have prepared a dinner.”
“Let’s go there.”
As I tried to stand up, His Highness’s hand suddenly appeared before my eyes. I wasn’t foolish enough not to understand the signal to hold it and stand up, so I carefully overlapped my hand. The hand warm enough to feel its heat was pleasant.
* * *
“It’s inadequate, but I hope it suits your palate.”
“Not at all. I came suddenly, yet you’re welcoming me, so thank you.”
The headmaster, sweating profusely, mentioned food that hadn’t even appeared yet. His Highness, who moistened his throat with water, was gentle as if to ease the tension.
“As you requested, I’ve prepared records of graduates who went to the Mage Tower over the past 10 years.”
“Good. I’ll check it after the meal.”
It seemed he was trying to confirm whether members of the Mage Tower besides Jerain and his companions had also joined hands with the aristocratic faction. While the eclipse incident could be seen as individual deviation, the omission in reporting magical beast types at this hunting competition had a high probability of not being an individual problem. He might suspect whether some Mage Tower forces were plotting something.
“I’ll serve the appetizer soup first.”
A chef with an obviously nervous expression set down the soup one by one. Even while their hands trembled, they moved the plates stably—their professional consciousness seemed quite excellent.
“Let’s eat.”
“Yes.”
His Highness, who stirred the soup with a silver spoon, tried to check for poison in the food as always. Since this wasn’t the imperial palace, he seemed to be more careful. As I was earnestly observing his complexion as usual, His Highness’s expression changed strangely after putting the soup in his mouth. At first expressionless, he completely furrowed his brow just before swallowing the food down his throat.
‘Is there something wrong with the food?’
A similar situation naturally came to mind, and my heart pounded. My vision went dark with worry that he might cough up blood again.
“Your Highness? Surely not poison again…”
“No.”
His Highness, who forcibly swallowed the soup, took a sip of water, but his expression didn’t improve. Seeing that blood didn’t come from his mouth and his fingertips or toes didn’t tremble, it didn’t seem like there was really poison in it.
“Could there be a problem with the food?”
The chef was now trembling all over. If it were the original His Highness, he would have appropriately soothed them, but this time was different.
“The soup has a grassy smell. Was there something wrong with the cooking?”
“What? I’ve committed a mortal sin. I’ll have it replaced immediately.”
The chef, flustered and not knowing what to do, tried to retrieve the soup again. The one who stopped that was me.
“I’ll try it.”
“There’s no need to try something that tastes bad.”
His Highness wasn’t originally someone who would express so bluntly that something was ‘bad-tasting.’ Then just how bad did it taste, and I needed to confirm whether it had perhaps gone bad.
“It might suit my taste.”
Perhaps to make sure there really wasn’t poison in it, His Highness didn’t stop me a second time. When I put the slightly yellowish soup in my mouth, a soft corn cream scent spread. It was savory while whetting the appetite, so there was nothing that could be called a grassy smell.
“I think the taste is fine…”
Although His Highness had a more discerning palate than me, he absolutely wasn’t to the point of being unable to eat food of this level. In the first place, he was someone who could consume tasteless food as much as needed if necessary. Something was strange.
‘Could there be a problem with his sense of taste?’
The expressions of the professors who hastily tasted a spoonful of soup following me were also complex. They also seemed unable to find any particular problem. They seemed to be trying to figure out whether His Highness was nitpicking for no reason, or whether he had spoken with some other meaning.
“I’ll have His Highness’s soup removed and bring in other dishes.”
“Alright.”
His Highness, who noticed the atmosphere, made a ‘hmm’ sound and pondered something. Since there were many watching eyes, it was difficult to ask what he meant, so I was just watching for signs. The moment the tray hurriedly refilled passed through the door and entered, His Highness’s skin turned pale. It was a clear rejection reaction.
“Your Highness?”
“Nauseating.”
It was a low voice only I could hear. I could only feel the savory butter scent, wine sauce scent, and refreshing fruit juice scent—there was no scent anywhere that could be called nauseating. It was clear that something was wrong with His Highness’s body.
“How about pausing the meal for a moment?”
Though it was regrettable for those who had prepared diligently, I couldn’t have His Highness forcibly remain seated here.
“Will you be okay? You must be hungry.”
“I’m fine. I’m more worried about Your Highness’s condition than myself. By any chance, is there any other part that feels unwell?”
The escort knights were also moving about in confusion at this first-time occurrence.
“No. I’m not sick. You know that, right?”
“But…”
His Highness lightly brushed off and stood up.
“I’m sorry for this when you prepared such a good occasion. It seems I got a bit motion sick while coming in the carriage. Could I just receive the materials?”
“I’ll prepare them right away.”
The headmaster seemed rather more pleased that this occasion could be dispersed quickly.
“Your Highness, are you truly all right?”
“We’ll prepare so you can use teleportation when returning.”
My worried words and the knights’ loyal reports poured out.
“No. That’s not the problem.”
However, a smile spread across His Highness’s face as if he was certain of something. A very satisfied-looking smile.
