Episode 90
“Mother, but I only borrowed it for a little while…”
“I said put it down right now!”
Although he often acted childish and petty, he was still his elder brother and the Crown Prince. Rurik couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door while Hart was being scolded and instead stood quietly outside, waiting. Now that the Empress had caught him, it seemed even Hart would have to return the sword obediently.
But the Empress’s angry voice continued.
“How can you not understand His Majesty’s intention to forge that child into a sharpened sword and hand him over to you entirely!”
The heart of the young Rurik, who had been elated for days over receiving a mere sword, grew cold.
“How can the noble hands destined to hold the Imperial Scepter grasp such a piece of iron!”
As he listened to the Empress’s cold voice, Rurik looked down at his own palms. They were full of calluses and wounds from harsh training.
‘They really are unsuited for the Imperial Scepter…’
As he stood there with his head hung low, the door opened. Rurik didn’t know if the Empress had seen him or not. Soon after, Hart came out and held the sword out to him.
“Did you hear? I don’t need this thing.”
Rurik took the sword that was almost thrown at him. But no matter how he gripped it, it didn’t bring him the same joy as when his father first gave it to him.
“His Majesty’s intention to forge that child into a sharpened sword and hand him over to you entirely!”
So, that was the nature of his father’s expectations after all. To forge him alive and give him to the firstborn son. But if that was the only place allotted to him, he couldn’t even refuse it. Because all he had was a single sword, with no shield whatsoever.
‘Because instead of a shield, I have someone to protect.’
His younger sister Louise, who had lost her mother at an even younger age than he.
“How can the noble hands destined to hold the Imperial Scepter grasp such a piece of iron!”
Rurik still remembered the Empress’s old scolding, which hadn’t even been directed at him. He spread open his palm and looked at it. Compared to now, his twelve-year-old palm could be said to have been like silk; his current hand was a mess.
‘Sometimes I feel sorry even for holding Helena’s hand.’
And now, his father capriciously declares he will give the Imperial Scepter to him. Rurik had tried hard to understand this caprice of his father’s, even losing sleep over it, wondering if it might be the hardship of being an emperor. But he couldn’t. He had endured a hellish life motivated solely by his concern for his sister, and now, having seen Hart, who had to close his eyes first despite having two children, he understood even less. That responsibility was never Hart’s to bear.
“What are you thinking about so deeply, Your Highness?”
He must have been standing there lost in thought for quite a long time. Helena slipped out of Rurik’s embrace and studied his face.
“Just…” Rurik smiled faintly. Then he finally voiced the thought inside him.
“…Thinking that I simply cannot forgive him.”
Most people would have thought he was talking about the deceased Hart. But he had long since confided about his lifelong ill-fated relationship with him. Strangely, Helena immediately read his true feelings.
“You mean… His Majesty the Emperor.”
Rurik looked down at her, newly astonished.
“How do you always understand my heart so well? Everyone always says my face doesn’t show emotion.”
“I just have slightly better perception than them,” Helena said modestly, but Rurik didn’t believe it.
“You said in the future you saw, we weren’t lovers.” He looked directly into her emerald eyes with a faint smile. “Are you deceiving me? Somehow, I keep thinking we must have been lovers even then.”
“We weren’t lovers then, but…” Helena gripped his hand even tighter. “…I might have been in love with you alone, Your Highness. That’s perhaps why I came to know you better.”
Rurik caught the tail end of her words.
“…’Might have been’? Or ‘was’.”
“What if I was?” Helena teased back.
“If you were, then I was a fool back then.” Rurik gave her lips a light kiss. Then Helena asked, “Your Highness, you trust me, don’t you?”
Rurik hesitated for a moment before answering in a heavy voice.
“…I do, but asking so suddenly makes me afraid.”
Helena spoke with a soft smile.
“It would be better for me to lay low for a while. Her Majesty the Empress is too consumed by grief to blame anyone right now, but she will soon look for someone to resent.”
Rurik frowned. He wanted to reassure Helena by saying it wouldn’t happen, but he couldn’t.
‘The Empress is more than capable of that.’
Especially now that Hart was dead. Hart was her one and only son, already as significant as the Emperor in her world. He was only amazed that Helena had managed to grasp her character so well in such a short time.
“…Are you planning to return to Caesarea?” Rurik’s voice was tinged with unavoidable regret.
Helena nodded.
“I’m sorry. Even though you need me too…” Then she looked up and met Rurik’s gaze firmly, making a resolution. “But Your Highness, you must use everything at your disposal. Always think coldly. Even if Her Majesty the Empress seeks to slander me while looking for me.”
Rurik let out a sigh. If the Empress lost her reason and began slandering Helena or the convent, it would not look good to others. In other words, it would give Rurik a justification.
‘Could it be… she anticipated the Empress’s reaction and did this on purpose?’
Rurik found it difficult to even guess how far ahead his lover was looking.
‘Still, I don’t want to send her all the way to Caesarea alone…’
It was too far, had no gates making travel difficult, and he doubted the convent could perfectly protect Helena in case of an emergency.
Rurik suddenly asked, “Then, will you go stay with Louise? It will be easier for us to hear news from each other there, and easier to get help to come and go quickly if needed.”
After pondering deeply, Helena nodded.
“That seems fine. Then, I’ll leave around the time the funeral ends.”
The First Prince had occupied the Crown Prince’s palace until his last breath, but his funeral was simplified compared to standard imperial funerals, lasting only three days. Once the funeral was over, Rurik also had to move. He had no intention of idly accepting the Crown Prince position just to satisfy his father.
Finally, on the day of the Ice Festival, Calisteon burst into my room early in the morning.
“Are you ready, Ru?”
I was wearing two layers of quilted long johns, two layers of quilted underskirts over them, and thick wrist and ankle warmers. Phoebe had threatened that I couldn’t go out without wearing all of that.
“If I can still move like this… then I suppose I’m ready?”
Calisteon looked at me, who was grumbling, as if I were cute, and plopped a fur hat that covered my ears onto my head.
“The heating stones?”
Embarrassingly, Ren had sent those items, typically used during extreme cold, for my outing. I took out the stones from each of my side pockets and clinked them together. A warm heat then bloomed in my palms. As I put the heating stones back into my pockets, Calisteon spoke with satisfaction.
“Good. Shall we depart then?”
In the garden, a silver carriage, seemingly specially decorated for the Ice Festival, was waiting. Even the white horses prepared to pull the carriage were so beautiful that I had to check several times if they were the same animals I knew.
“Wow…” I looked up at Calisteon, hearing Phoebe’s exclamation of admiration.
“The carriage is a bit… flashy, isn’t it?”
Although it was nice that it was pretty, riding around in something like this was bound to attract attention. But Calisteon answered nonchalantly.
“It’s a rare outing, we should set the mood.”
Phoebe chimed in.
“Now that Your Highness’s belly is quite noticeable and you’re wearing a hat, no one will guess you’re royalty.”
Instead, they’ll probably think I’m the Grand Duke’s secret lover. Phoebe, her eyes shining like a child’s, looked around every nook and cranny of the carriage.
“Now that I think about it, it’s been a long time since I rode in a carriage…!”
Well, that made sense. In Edessa, we lived in the city center, so there was hardly any need for a carriage. Except for that one time we went to the art auction.
A neatly gloved hand was extended to me.
“Shall we, My Lady?”
I accepted Calisteon’s escort and got into the carriage.
Neigh!
The horses let out small whinnies, and the carriage set off. As we merrily rushed towards the festival venue, a kingdom of snow unfolded outside the window. Everywhere the eye could see was pure white. As I widened my eyes and looked around, Calisteon leaned over to look out the window with me. Compared to me, bundled up in all sorts of cold-weather gear, he was dressed as usual. Even the jacket under his cloak had its top button undone.
“You look cold, Carl.”
I said this and took off my glove.
