Chapter 28
◇Side: Edward◇
Before the war began, events were already turning for the worse.
The chancellor, who had been imprisoned, escaped with the enemy nation’s support. There must have been collaborators within the castle—someone had aided in his defection.
The chancellor had been deeply involved in the heart of the government. That meant there was a high chance that important state secrets had leaked. Yet, Edward also considered this situation an opportunity. Because…
It was a perfect chance to root out the traitors nesting within the royal castle.
However, showing no leniency toward the enemy nation also meant one thing—it would escalate into war. And if war came, the Petigrew domain, where Natalie lived, would inevitably become a target.
The image of Natalie laughing with her family at the ball rose vividly in Edward’s mind. But he was royalty—the face of the nation. He knew from painful experience that personal feelings only led to ruin. If he truly wished to protect Natalie, then once war began, all he needed to do was crush the enemy swiftly.
Fortunately, Edward had an exceptional talent for teleportation magic. With his personal knight order working in unison, there was no doubt he could overwhelm the enemy nation.
—That was why he had to think only of the bigger picture.
◆◇◆
As they monitored the enemy and prepared for war, the condition of the First Prince—his own elder brother—took a grave turn. With the disappearance of the chancellor, his ally, and more than that, the crushing realization that he had been betrayed all along, the prince’s spirit collapsed.
Combined with his frail health from the beginning, his mental exhaustion meant he was effectively eliminated from the struggle for power.
Edward did not take revenge on his brother. He simply left him under watch, abandoned in all but name. He judged that his brother’s continued survival would bring no benefit—to him, to the royal house, or to the kingdom.
For in the long run, losing the throne meant losing the very meaning of being a prince. And his position would only worsen with time.
It seemed his brother himself understood this bitter truth.
“…Ha, so I lost after all.”
“…Brother.”
“Don’t act like a good little brother, Edward… when you never thought of me as one anyway. Cough, cough.”
A few days before he passed, Edward visited his brother in the name of courtesy. There was no pity in his heart—only the sense that, as a prince, he was obliged to see the wider picture.
“…To think I’d see your face at the end, when I’m already close to death.”
“……”
“What an unpleasant visit you’ve made.”
By then, his brother no longer bothered to keep up appearances. He spoke and acted as Edward had once overheard him in secret—perhaps that had always been his true nature.
“…Enough of your coughing pity. Go on, take that insufferable face of yours and leave.”
“…As you wish.”
His brother lay weakly in bed, clearly near the end. If that was his wish, Edward would leave. As he rose to go, his brother muttered:
“…Royalty, in the end… is so damn boring.”
Edward did not respond. That became the final words he ever heard from his brother.
◆◇◆
Had they been able to strike first, it would have been ideal. But in order to teleport an entire army to the designated location, Edward needed time to prepare the large-scale magic.
Thus, by the time his brother’s death came, war broke out simultaneously.
Long since dried of tears, Edward poured his focus into managing the massive spell, determined to make up for any delay.
“Your Highness! Preparations for the magic are complete!”
“Understood. My knights—those directly under my command!”
At his call, every knight’s gaze turned to him.
“This war—I wish to end it quickly, with the least sacrifice possible. For that, I need your strength.”
Stirring words weren’t Edward’s style. Still—
“Let us bring the light of victory to our kingdom!”
Even delivered coolly, his words lifted the knights’ morale. What was expected to take a week, they ended in three days.
The allied knights contributed greatly as well. And in the end, all those efforts led to the outcome Edward had judged best.
◆◇◆
When the war ended and he confirmed the state of the kingdom, he learned that the Petigrew territory had not fallen. That was thanks in large part to the Black Knights. Though their duke and leader had unfortunately fallen unconscious, their defense had been overwhelming.
The one disappointment—though the enemy nation had surrendered and their infiltrators in the royal castle were captured, the mastermind, the “Chancellor,” was not among them. He had disappeared from even the enemy nation.
It was a bitter loose end. But with the war over, and most of all, with the knowledge that Natalie was safe, Edward finally let out a long breath of relief.
—Why was he so relieved? This war had been calculated down to the last detail. He had prepared himself to accept even the loss of Petigrew.
“…Edward. I have decided to name you as the next king.”
“…I am honored, Father.”
“Your command in this war was remarkable. When the nation settles, you will…”
“Yes. I vow to bring further glory to our kingdom.”
Even as a strange unease lingered in his chest, Edward accepted his father’s words. Called after the victory parade, he was told of the succession. His father outwardly mourned the First Prince’s death, but Edward’s response brought him to nod in satisfaction.
Unusually cheerful, his father even engaged in idle talk—a rarity.
“By the way… at the ball, Edward, you danced with the young lady of Petigrew, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“With corruption festering in the castle, perhaps you felt that our kingdom needed new blood, new winds of change?”
“…Eh? …Y-Yes.”
Still thinking of Natalie’s safety, Edward responded late. Unaware, his father continued:
“If you wish it, you may marry her. I see no reason against it.”
“……”
“There is no need to hold back. You, too, deserve a reward for this war.”
Hearing that, Edward realized the future he had envisioned was steadily taking shape. And yet… why did he feel such a weight in his chest?
He gave only vague replies, intending to deflect. But when rewards were distributed to Petigrew, his father once again meddled.
The plan had been to grant the award and dismiss them afterward. Instead, his father suddenly addressed Natalie. Edward, flustered despite himself, forced a calm smile.
If it were the town he often visited for inspections, he told himself, he could play his usual role. With that thought, he accompanied Natalie to the city.
◆◇◆
Walking through the city with her, everything looked different—more radiant than when he had come alone. Almost as though he now saw through different eyes.
Natalie’s expression, her words, her voice—everything radiated warmth. What he thought he knew appeared fresh and new. Later, he would realize—it was because she found joy simply in living.
He recognized this when he saw her meddlesome kindness.
◆◇◆
They came across a poor parent and child. Rationally, Edward thought: temporary aid is meaningless. True benefit lies in improving the region itself, so that such misfortune does not spread.
Yet Natalie approached without hesitation and healed them.
—He could not understand it.
(Did she do it simply because she felt sorry for them? Out of pity?)
Nothing is more unreliable than emotion. To act on it, to rely on it, is to risk betrayal. To make it a standard for judgment was absurd. He should have thought it absurd. So why did his chest ache so painfully?
He could not help but ask her—even if it meant criticizing her actions—he needed to know why she did it.
“…I wish to help those I can reach, to expand the possibilities for them.”
—Empty words like that couldn’t possibly hold meaning.
“Life is painful, of course. But if one continues to live… one can keep walking toward happiness.”
—It shouldn’t have meant anything. Yet the memory of his younger self, who had loved his family dearly, flooded his mind.
Edward could not answer her. Because her words sank deep into his heart—deeper than he expected—threatening to crumble the walls he had built.
Confusion swirled in his mind, but he made sure she never saw it. By hastily calling for their return, he barely held himself together.
◆◇◆
Back at the castle, still distracted, he gave only curt responses—even to his younger brother, who greeted him along the way. Then, using magic, he escaped to a place where no one could disturb him: the royal family’s secret garden, created through magic.
Only royalty could enter. Even the lions sometimes slept there.
Ignoring them, Edward sat on the grass. And from the depths of memory he had locked away, emotions surged forth.
“…Huh?”
Something wet ran down his cheeks. It took him a moment to realize—it was tears.
As a child, whenever scolded by his father, after quarreling with his brother, or when he felt stuck, he would sneak here to cry unseen. That ingrained habit had disappeared the day he discovered his brother had tried to poison him.
Now, the habit had returned.
(I know… I know the truth.)
It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand Natalie’s words. He had refused to understand. Because if he did, he would awaken the part of himself that longed for family—the true self he had buried.
It hurt that his father only used him.
He hated that his mother never stopped his father.
It pained him that he couldn’t be honest with his younger brother.
And when his brother died of illness… it was agony.
Yes, he had thought his brother cruel for plotting to poison him. But even so, they had grown up together. Without the succession struggle, he would have wanted to play again, to walk through the city with him once more.
His brother’s words—“Royalty is boring”—now pierced him. Indeed, being a king was dull. More than that, he had wanted a family.
That was why he envied Natalie—loved by her family, earnest in her love, radiating love outward. More than envy, he admired her. He wanted her always by his side.
(…But I am tainted.)
For his heart had long been dead. He had forgotten the joy of living.
A man who coldly discarded people in the name of reason—such a man was too ugly to stand at her side.
As he faced the truth within, Edward’s tears would not stop. They poured out, as though a dam had broken.
—Ah, if only this heart, crying out that it loved her, could be washed clean by these tears.
