The news of Bartholomew's arrival reached Franz's ears even before he arrived at Astel Palace.
As always, he was locked in his room, turning the pages of a book he had read until he was worn out. When he heard the words from his young servant, he rushed out. And as soon as he saw the large figure approaching from far away from his feet, he couldn't hide his smile.
The young servant, who had just begun serving Franz at the Astel Palace, could not help but be surprised by the expression on the Prince's face, seeing him like that for the first time in his life. He was a handsome man even when he was expressionless or depressed, but seeing him smile so brightly made his eyes dazzle as if a halo had been cast over him.
The young man approached Franz without hesitation. Compared to Franz, who couldn't hide his joy, his face looked stiff for some reason.
“I haven’t seen you for a long time, Your Highness."
The corner of Franz's mouth twisted playfully as he looked down at Bartholomew, who had his head bowed. He said, running his fingers over the area where his short, bronze-colored hair fell slightly above his ears.
“It has gotten worse while we haven’t seen each other. How dare you step into Astel Palace with a face like this?”
“You have become ugly without even seeing me.”
The attendant who was watching was so surprised that he almost screamed. Even though he is the Duke's son, he dares to say such rude things to the Prince. The attendant, who was watching Franz with his mouth covered, saw the smile spreading across his lips and his eyes widened.
“You’re such a reckless guy.”
“I’m offended that you treat a subject who came to ask for greetings like this, so I’m going to leave now.”
As Bartholomew's answer fell, Franz, who burst out laughing, pushed his shoulder and fell to the ground. Even after receiving an unexpected blow, Bartholomew's large body hardly collapsed.
They rolled around like little boys, grabbing and letting go of their collars, giggling and lying down on the grass in the garden, then got up. Bartholomew patted his newly-dressed jacket on as if he were coming to the palace, and spoke with his lips twitching.
“There is no body pain, body pain. The Prince is about to have his coming-of-age ceremony.”
“You. But why are you taller? I’m surprised there was anything bigger left there.”
“The meals provided at the Combler Training Center must be so luxurious.”
As soon as Bartholomew spoke, their eyes met again. The two young men blinked absentmindedly, laughing and putting their arms around each other's shoulders. Bartholomew was a little taller, but Franz was just as tall. Although they had no resemblance in appearance, the atmosphere they gave off was similar, as if they were brothers.
“If I had known you would come, I would have told the servants to prepare a bigger dinner tonight.”
“It’s my second day at the mansion. I ate a year's worth of food in two days. My mother feeds me all day long. I guess they’re going to fatten me up and sell me to a butcher because I don’t listen to them.”
“You’re good at saying things that will make my aunt proud when she hears them.”
Franz chuckled. Bartholomew also followed him into Astel Palace, giggling.
The attendant, who was mesmerized by their harsh greetings, busily brought tea and refreshments. Franz said teasingly as he watched Bartholomew pouring three pieces of rose sugar into his teacup.
“You still like sweets. Like a child.”
"Come on? Is there a law that says only children like sweets?”
“Training soldiers won’t be given that much sugar. How do you drink tea there?”
“Do you know that only there, there is someone who can enjoy the taste of tea in such a leisurely manner? You drink to survive, not for taste.”
Bartholomew grumbled as he spoke. Although Franz was just teasing him, it was true to some extent. He had liked sweet desserts since he was young, and the most difficult thing for him when he entered training camp was to give up sugar.
The amount of sugar personally provided to trainees was extremely small. This is because it is classified as a luxury item rather than an essential daily necessity. Because of this, many people secretly brought in sugar or other luxury items while going out or on vacation. Even though the managers in charge of training turned a blind eye to some extent, it was strictly speaking a violation of the rules.
Bartholomew had no intention of breaking the rules, but since the Duke of Vergy would not allow it, he never brought his personal belongings into the training camp. Even if it's something very trivial.
“The head chef who worked at the castle before made a really good cherry pie. He used to decorate his big pies with little birds made of hardened sugar.”
Bartholomew said as he picked up a cookie topped with almonds and ate it. Franz also remembered the pies he made. The cook who retired to the late Queen's hometown about a year before her death was a master of the sugar craft.
He knew how to make all kinds of things with sugar using a secret method that he knew only to himself. The little birds on top of the pie were as white as if they had just come out of the snow, and it was as if it were only yesterday that his young heart was ecstatic every time the grains sparkled in the sunlight. He fought with Bartholomew by the head of their heads, saying they would get the last thing they had left, and then they knelt in front of the King and got scolded side by side.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had it.”
Franz said as if sighing. There was still a faint smile on his lips, but the past few years had been too bleak to be happy about his memories.
Bartholomew also knew that fact well. Nevertheless, he was not embarrassed to bring up the story of his performance. Franz's lethargy has long since become a chronic illness. Bartholomew would do anything to get him out of there. Whether it's endlessly telling unpleasant old stories or rolling around like children, imitating trivial fights. It didn't matter what the method was.
“Franz.”
Bartholomew's voice became serious for the first time since arriving at Astel Palace. He felt a weight that was incomparable to when he knelt before him and pretended to offer his allegiance.
"Say it."
“Before coming to Astel Palace, I stopped by my uncle’s residence and saw Her Highness the Princess.”
Just as Franz called the Duke of Vergy his maternal uncle, Bartholomew also called King Jedercayer in a friendly way when no one was watching. Such a title proved that their relationship was not based on shallow calculations or gains and losses.
She seemed like she would collapse if she even took a deep breath. There a guy even ordered her to empty the incense burner, which would be difficult for even the servants to carry alone.”
Franz, who had been quietly listening, frowned. Bartholomew was somewhat relieved by his reaction. It was comforting to know that at least he was not at all indifferent to his wife.
When he was young, Franz was unusually active and sensitive in expressing his emotions. It is not something that happened yesterday or today that he gradually closed his mouth, avoided people's attention, and began to delve into himself. There were times when Bartholomew became anxious for no reason because Franz seemed to be losing his human emotions. But that doesn't seem to be the case for the Princess. He couldn't help but feel relieved.
"So?"
“It’s a shame because I was able to help. If I hadn’t, there would have been a whole mess.”
“The palace will.”
“I ordered him to be flogged. After about 30 hits, he’ll come to his senses.”
Franz was caught up in complicated feelings. He knew that Judith was having a hard time serving the King. But every time Franz tried to help, Judith repeatedly refused. She said she was afraid that if the Queen found out, it would cause harm to Franz.
It bothered Franz that she couldn't give him even a shred of trust or anything to rely on. Judith did not cry, so he felt sad.
Meanwhile, Bartholomew saw through Franz's complicated feelings. Although he shrank due to the vicious oppression of Queen Gilsis, Franz's nature was upright and very good. Thanks to the nature he inherited from Queen Emerea, he was kind and gentle to others.
He couldn't have felt good watching the Princess being abused like that. However, he also understood that if he rashly thrust his sword at the Queen, he would be helpless as he could not do anything since it was obvious that even the few people around him would see blood. As he watched from a step back, a fire was burning inside him as well, and it goes without saying that Franz, his partner, was feeling the same way.
“Let’s go out.”
Bartholomew, who gulped down half of the remaining tea without any hesitation, wiped the corners of his mouth and said. Franz, who had been quietly manipulating the handle of his glass, raised his head.
“Let’s go out.”
“The weather is this nice, but I can’t just stay in my room since I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“So, you want to go horseback riding?”
“We decided to go horseback riding next time. I have to give it a try.”
Bartholomew grinned. His smiling face, showing his teeth, was very manly and showed that he would become even stronger in the future. After completing Combler's training, it was clear that he would become an exceptional figure among the elite troops protecting the King.
Will Franz be able to see his back standing like a strong mountain, wearing the epaulets and tassels given to him by the King and carrying a sword? It was something he never suspected when he was young. He believed that if he were to one day succeed his father and be crowned King, he would have only Bartholomew by his side.
However, the future before his eyes was obscured by a thick fog. Just as he pictured them giggling as they put their heads together when he was young, Bartholomew would become the king's greatest military officer, but his situation was different.
Bartholomew grabbed Franz's shoulder, who had been silent with his gaze down, and lifted him up.
“What should I do if you look so depressed? Her Highness will be disappointed.”
“She must have already been disappointed enough.”
Franz said self-deprecatingly. Basolomew frowned at him, perhaps frustrated by his attitude.
“Then shouldn’t you be even more conscious? I heard that she grew up in Tien. What should I do if you act like this towards someone who is so small and has no will?”
His justifiable criticism broke Franz's heart. It was pitiful. No matter how many times he apologizes, it's not enough.
“I know that you are worried about Her Highness, but is it really possible that Her Highness doesn’t know that herself? She would be even sadder if she knew you were so depressed. Wake up. Let's go out. After you move around a bit, you’ll feel more energized.”
Franz shrugged and finally stood up. He couldn't tell how Judith felt, but he didn't want to disappoint Bartholomew in front of him.
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