Episode 224

“They say there was a big fight between the Ministry of Magic and the Judiciary?”

“A big fight? What do you mean, a big fight?”

In Gale’s quarters, where the sunset was settling in, a soldier who usually stared straight ahead like a pillar of steel muttered without realizing it. He was growing unbearably bored as his shift change approached. Hearing footsteps in the distance, he responded.

“They say it was chaos. Everyone says it was the first time they’d seen wizards brawling like that. No one even thought to stop them. Something about a seal or some kind of mark—it seems that’s what caused it.”

“Is everything okay now?”

“Well, the Judiciary staff left right after work hours ended, I guess. Honestly, the palace is ridiculous. They’re fighting like it’s life or death, then just leave when the time’s up. What’s that about?”

The soldiers chuckled quietly, then spotted a carriage approaching from afar. The banner marked it as belonging to the Ministry of Magic. Usually, the only wizards who came to Gale’s quarters were healers or Ian.

Creak!

Whirrr!

“Ian, sir. Welcome back.”

“Thank you for your hard work. Any problems?”

“No, everything’s fine.”

Ian nodded and climbed the stairs alone. He usually came accompanied by Romandro, but today he was with other wizards for some reason.

Ian slipped his leather gloves into his chest pocket and crossed the palace with practiced ease.

Tap tap tap.

The sun was waning. The thick sunset glow deepened from orange to a fiery red. Warm breeze. Distant shadows. Darkness beginning to pour through the large windows. The footsteps of Ian and his accompanying wizards echoed through the empty corridor.

“Ah, Ian, sir.”

“It’s Ian, isn’t it? What brings you here?”

The warriors of Cheonryeo, lying on the garden lawn, greeted Ian. They all chewed on blades of grass, enjoying the calm greenery. Ian returned their greetings with a small smile.

Swish.

“Is something the matter? Where’s Romandro?”

“Yeah. And the more I look, the more he looks like Philia, doesn’t he? That’s why bloodlines matter. If Nersarn ever has a child, I’ll pray they look just like Philia.”

The warriors shrugged it off and flopped back onto the grass. They didn’t know when they’d return to the desert, but this kind of luxury wasn’t so bad.

Creak.

“Ian, sir. Greetings.”

“Is Gale, Your Highness, inside?”

“Yes. He’s having dinner now.”

“Open the door.”

At Ian’s command, the door leading to the bedroom slowly opened.

Gale, eating at the bedside table, frowned. Surprisingly, Philia and Nersarn were with him.

“Oh, Ian!”

“So your mother is here as well.”

“Ah, well, this is… um…”

Philia looked uncomfortable, unsure how to explain herself. She was worried she might have overstepped.

Gale glanced at Philia, then slammed his fork down loudly.

Thud.

“I was getting bored eating alone, so I asked for company. But the soldier guarding the door is clumsy and rude. He didn’t even announce that someone was eating before letting you in.”

Despite his words, Gale’s knife was pointed at Ian. His complaint was that Ian’s entrance during his meal was truly disrespectful.

Ian simply ignored the gesture with a glance and asked Philia,

“Please leave us alone for a moment.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Philia hurriedly tidied up and left with Nersarn to the next room. Gale scanned Ian up and down, then casually resumed cutting his steak.

“Since you chased away my dining attendants, you might as well sit. For the record, I like being fed.”

His teasing tone suggested he was in a better mood than usual.

The wizards placed a small glass vial in front of Ian and then left as well. Gale kept glancing at it as he ate. Even without Ian saying a word, he could sense what it was.

“…I don’t eat dessert.”

It was a potion of death. By magic, it would allow Ian to fully take his breath away. Gale could now truly feel the final chapter of his life unfolding.

“Soon, rumors will spread.”

“Rumors, huh.”

The clinking of dishes echoed softly. Gale fell silent, thinking hard, then came to a near-certain conclusion.

“Rumors that I’m going into exile?”

“…Yes.”

“Ridiculous. Who gave permission to use the prince’s name like that? I didn’t think you were so reckless.”

Ian was inwardly surprised but said nothing. It didn’t seem like Gale wanted an answer.

“You just need to stay as you are.”

“Ah, I see. Just stay quiet, stand trial, prove Hyman’s corruption, and follow Marib. If things go wrong, just die quietly.”

Bang!

Gale slammed the table and pointed his knife at Ian’s neck. He wanted nothing more than to slash that pale neck like he was cutting steak.

“I’m already waiting for death. Drinking this potion is nothing. But what was that? Exile? You think I’d abandon Bariel and run off to a foreign land? Beg for my life?”

What an insult. He was no coward who’d beg for his life by abandoning his homeland. Gale gritted his teeth, but Ian ignored it and held out the potion.

“It’s just a rumor. A rumor that will vanish without a trace someday.”

“My honor will vanish with it.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. Since the rebellion began, your honor has already disappeared.”

Crash! Clatter!

Gale overturned all the dishes on the table.

He didn’t want to believe it, but it was reality. He couldn’t step outside the palace gates, and if he did, Hyman’s assassins would ensure a gruesome end.

The two glared at each other coldly.

“Stay calm and don’t cause a scene. If you do, at least you won’t end up like Marib.”

Stripped of royal status, erased from history, dangling from the applause of nobles—this was the fate Ian quietly whispered to soothe him.

“I will also protect your mother’s tree in your name. Please remember, all of this is for your own good.”

Ian reminded Gale of the promise he had made. If Ian had truly wanted, he could have slipped the potion into his drink without anyone noticing.

Gale frowned and snatched the vial.

“Hah. For my own good?”

Without hesitation, he downed the potion in one gulp. The warm, sharp taste lingered on his tongue. This is death, he thought, roughly wiping his mouth before throwing the glass bottle against the wall.

Clang!

“Fine. This must be the kindness you speak of.”

“With mutual understanding at its peak, there’s no better cooperation than this.”

“You won’t be going to heaven either.”

“If I can make Bariel’s heaven, then anywhere.”

Ian replied gracefully, and Gale let out a bitter laugh. Heat spread through his body. Now his breath was entirely in Ian’s hands. His chest ached as soldiers outside called out.

“Ian, sir. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Everyone, stand down.”

“Yes, yes. Understood.”

The commotion made them wonder if something was wrong. Of course, no one here cared about Gale’s condition. As Gale stared blankly at the ceiling, Ian stood up. It was time to be done.

“Other than a slight fever, there are no issues with daily life. You can even forget you drank it.”

“When will I die?”

“…There will be a perfect time, as seen by the gods.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for days.”

An unexpected preamble. Ian was about to ignore it but stopped and looked back at Gale. Words spoken without a listener vanish like sound in the wind. As a dying man’s last lament, it was worth hearing.

“When I first received Wesley’s curse.”

“Wesley’s curse?”

“At first, I didn’t think much of it. That I wouldn’t be loved, or whatever—it seemed no different from before.”

Because that’s how it had always been. Sweet whispers, but always within strict self-interest—and the other party felt the same. Wesley had gained much from meeting Gale.

Was that true love? It seemed no different from before. What was the curse, and what was the problem? At first, Gale thought that way.

“But now, reflecting on my situation, I understand. Not being loved—that included Bariel.”

Gale had passionately courted Bariel but was ultimately rejected and unloved. Ian crossed his arms and looked down at him. Not unlike Marib, he spoke words quite similar.

“Shall I record it? That Your Highness Gale was rejected by Bariel.”

“I wish you’d just die, Ian.”

“Though I can’t die, I can leave. Enjoy it. Not much time left.”

Gale chuckled and muttered a light curse. As Ian left the room, Philia and the soldiers who had been standing close by jumped back, startled. They must have been worried about the noise.

“Ian! Are you alright? I heard dishes breaking.”

“I’m fine. But the floor will need cleaning. Bring the attendants inside.”

“Yes, understood!”

“…The swelling on your cheek has gone down a lot. That’s a relief.”

Ian glanced briefly at his mother’s cheek and nodded. Though there was still a faint scratch left from Arsen’s blow, it had mostly healed and was barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

“Um, Ian. If you have some time, would you like to take a walk in the garden? There’s something I need to discuss with you, Nersarn said.”

“Sure, that sounds fine. I can spare a little time.”

Romandro and Hale hadn’t come in from outside yet. Ian trusted they’d arrived on schedule, but until he saw it with his own eyes, there was nothing he could do. There was just a little time left before then.

“How are you finding life in the palace?” Nersarn asked.

“It’s far too much for me—more than I deserve. I’m grateful just to have this opportunity in my lifetime. But, well… I think it’s about time we start thinking about when we should head back.”

Ian tried to estimate the date. Now that he thought about it, they’d been here quite a while. The small ethnic group stationed here had endured a lot, especially in a climate so different from their own. Ian placed a hand over his chest and expressed his gratitude to Nersarn.

“If you wish, I will prepare the journey with a carriage. Thanks to Cheonryeo’s help, the palace has been saved from crisis, and I will carry that deeply in my heart.”

“Nonsense. We are allies. It’s our duty to share both joy and hardship.”

“Thank you sincerely for saying that.”

“Well, about that…”

“About that?” Ian looked up, inviting him to continue. Nersarn suddenly grew tense and pressed his lips tightly together—uncharacteristic for him. Then, very slowly but earnestly, he made his request.

“Before you leave, I would like to hold a small engagement ceremony with you, Sir Ian. We will have the wedding separately when we return to Hielo.”

“Oh.”

Philia’s face flushed bright red. Watching her ask permission for her child was utterly endearing. Ian let out a short breath of surprise, then quickly agreed.

“Of course. Though things are quite busy right now, how about we hold it after His Highness Arsen’s magic verification ceremony and other urgent matters are done? I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Ian? You’ll prepare it?”

“I will do so wholeheartedly.”

Philia was so delighted she was practically stamping her feet. Nersarn seemed relieved as well, his expression noticeably lighter.

Just as they were discussing the engagement ceremony in the garden, a mage hurried over and whispered to Ian.

“Sir Ian, there’s been a message regarding the Karbo Shrine. It seems you’ll need to go out there.”