Chapter 104
“Your Highness? Prince Elenon!”
The shrill voice broke Elenon out of his reverie. He had been lost in thought with a hazy gaze for a moment, then quickly came to his senses and turned toward the person across from him.
“What are you thinking about so deeply?”
The young lady of House Veriton, one year younger than Elenon, was looking at him earnestly from across the table. In the room, there were only the two of them—Elenon and Greta Veriton.
“Ah, sorry. It was nothing.”
Elenon replied gently. His smile was kind, but devoid of any real vitality. Greta noticed that and bit her lip.
“…Are you bored being here with me?”
The girl, her hands clasped tightly together beneath the table, asked in a trembling voice. Elenon barely suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape.
Greta had practically begged the prince to arrange this private tea with him, and she didn’t even seem to have the will to hide the fact that she had come here to win his favor.
Rather than finding her blatant attitude troublesome, Elenon found it worrisome. Greta’s behavior was closer to begging than courtship, and resembled pleading more than seduction.
Elenon did not know her exact circumstances. Even as royalty, he was not thoroughly acquainted with the internal affairs of every noble house. And as the youngest prince, with little real power or authority, even less so.
Still, there were things he had picked up and inferred over time. He had a rough idea of how ambitious the Duke and Duchess of Veriton were, and how great the expectations they placed upon their daughters.
The eldest daughter of House Veriton had been subjected to harsh training from a young age because she was the heir to the family. Then what of the second daughter? What role would a pair of parents so full of ambition and greed expect from their younger child?
As it happened, Greta was only a year apart in age from this country’s second prince, possessed outstanding beauty, and attended the same school as he did.
From that point on, her role had been decided as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And instead of carrying out that role with finesse, Greta was clumsily throwing herself at it, determined to produce results somehow.
Elenon found her irritating, then pitiful, then wondered if he ought to accept her advances out of sympathy—only to hesitate, fearing that doing so might be even more poisonous for her in the end. And in the end, all of it felt futile.
If only he could at least feel that she truly liked him, would the sense of revulsion have been less?
But from his perspective, Greta’s primary motivation at present was closer to fear of her parents than affection for the prince.
“No, of course not. I’m not bored at all.”
Elenon smiled as if painted and soothed her. Greta’s expression did not relax. To buy time, Elenon took a sip of his tea.
“It’s just that I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. I’m leaving the country soon, after all. The secretaries prepare most things, but there are more matters I have to handle personally than I expected.”
He set down his teacup and added the plausible excuse.
He used his upcoming departure as justification. Soon, Hermeon’s diplomatic delegation was scheduled to depart for the allied nation of Tairos, and the first prince, Kairon, and the second prince, Elenon, were to accompany them as royal representatives.
In truth, a single member of the royal family would have sufficed. However, the king decided to send the younger son along with the elder, reasoning that the youngest, still inexperienced in such matters, required practical training.
Going abroad as a royal representative and skillfully mingling with distinguished guests was also one of the virtues expected of royalty.
The second prince had only come of age two years prior, and until now had lived complacently within the relatively narrow confines of school, the royal palace, and the capital’s social circles.
The king and queen believed it was time to show the youngest a wider world. And so Elenon would accompany the delegation, with departure scheduled for the following week.
“Ah, I see. I hope you won’t overexert yourself.”
“Thank you, Greta. I’m taking it easy, so don’t worry.”
After that, the two exchanged dull conversation over various harmless topics—school assignments, updates about other classmates, the most recent ball they had attended together, and so on.
Time and again, Elenon suppressed the urge to speak honestly to her.
For her own sake, he wanted to beg her to stop doing this to him, to stand up to her parents if necessary and pursue the path she truly desired.
He wanted to say that he had no feelings for her and that she did not truly like him either; that if she would only abandon the ambition of inevitably marrying him as her family wished, both of them would be far more at ease.
But once again, Elenon swallowed all those words alone. Accustomed to wearing an elegant and gentle mask before others, he found sincere communication far more difficult.
If he had truly cherished and respected Greta, he might have attempted an honest conversation with her somehow.
But to Elenon Hermeon, Greta Veriton was not someone precious. Like the academy acquaintances he maintained, it was nothing more than a false friendship covered in pretense.
And so instead of offering her earnest advice, he merely led the conversation with his usual moderately kind demeanor, and Greta, for her part, did not seek his help.
After finishing their tea, they parted ways. Elenon boarded the carriage that had been waiting outside and returned to the royal palace. Resting his head against the window frame, he closed his eyes.
‘I’m tired.’
He wanted to rest. But even when he closed his eyes each night and sought sleep, what came to him was not rest. Only longing exposed in the form of dreams.
Because he had even forgotten that he had forgotten something, his anguish failed to take on any clear shape and merely festered within his unconscious.
On a bright summer day, Elenon departed for Tairos—the western diplomatic partner still ruled by one of the few remaining absolute monarchies in the world, governed by a hereditary sovereign.
While in other countries monarchies had collapsed in revolution or royal families had swiftly transitioned into constitutional monarchies, Tairos alone stubbornly maintained its traditions, like a noble isolated island in the midst of the flames of change.
Their confidence had its own firm foundation.
Compared to its low population density, Tairos was rich in natural resources and correspondingly wealthy. Taxes were low, the climate was mild, and it was close to a paradise on earth.
If far more people are satisfied with the current system than dissatisfied, then there are that many fewer who would strive to overturn the old order.
The ruling class, who wished to maintain the way of life they had always known, and the ruled class, who expressed little particular discontent, together sustained the present Tairos royal family.
Having grown up seeing only a constitutional monarchy in his homeland, Elenon felt an ingrained aversion to Tairos’ atmosphere. But he was not foolish enough to reveal that aversion outright.
As royal representatives visiting for diplomatic purposes, he and Prince Kairon maintained impeccable courtesy at all times.
They upheld their dignity as royalty without ever behaving arrogantly, maintained appropriate humility, and guarded against excessive servility.
At the welcoming banquet hosted by the Tairos royal family for the princes of Hermeon and the diplomatic delegation, the two brothers deftly displayed the social graces they had polished all their lives.
At a gathering little different from a ball in Hermeon, Elenon and Kairon conversed with key figures of Tairos, shared laughter, and skillfully danced with several ladies.
A few of them showed distinctly personal interest in the princes from abroad. Elenon noticed a noble lady of Tairos staring intently at Kairon and poked his brother lightly in the side.
“Brother, look over there. Isn’t that the one who danced with you earlier?”
The two brothers were standing side by side in a corner of the banquet hall under the pretense of taking a short break. Sipping champagne, Kairon followed his brother’s gesture, glanced at the woman, and then looked away again.
“Oh, right. She danced with me twice earlier. I must have made quite an impression on her.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Brother. It would be troublesome if you assumed every woman in this world naturally likes you. She might just be staring because you’re annoying.”
“Ha ha, is that so?”
When Elenon teased him in a playful low voice, Kairon laughed softly. Then he turned to his younger brother.
“And you? Aren’t there any beautiful foreign ladies too distracted looking at you to notice anyone else?”
“Hardly. With you standing right next to me, Brother, how would I even catch their eyes?”
“Why so little confidence, El? Of course it’s true that I’m dazzlingly handsome, but you’re hardly lacking in looks yourself.”
Kairon replied mischievously, deliberately praising his own appearance. Yet unlike his playful tone, there was genuine concern in his eyes.
From Kairon’s perspective, his precious younger brother seemed, in many ways, subtly withdrawn.
It was something only close family could notice. The ‘friends’ who saw only the perfect mask of the second prince would likely never guess.
Whenever Elenon occasionally compared himself to their sister or brother, or offhandedly remarked as though he were nothing compared to them, Kairon felt a pang of regret.
‘Why is that? Father and Mother may have doted on El as the youngest, but they never raised him by comparing him to me or our sister.’
Kairon secretly furrowed his brow. It was the bold, complacent, and unintentionally cruel thought of someone who had never once felt inferior to the rest of his family.
Elenon gave an awkward smile as he looked at Kairon, who had been called a genius since childhood.
A genius artist—and handsome to boot—his lovable older brother who would never, even in death, understand the struggles of the unremarkable youngest.
“Still, I can’t compare to you, Brother.”
He covered his discomfort with a light reply. Maintaining a smile even when he did not feel like smiling was a skill he often used, even with family.
Kairon did not press further. The elder brother sensed a wall from his younger sibling, and instead of forcing his way through it, chose to respect the line his brother had drawn.
Perhaps the younger brother had secretly hoped that his elder would break down that wall by force and cross over to ask what was wrong.
But the elder did not cross. And the younger was left alone once more.
