Erwin seemed to have finally come to his senses after riding the wooden horse Rogero had gifted him and circling the vast Magnus Palace three times.
Although it wasn't a very cold day, it was winter, and even though the palace staff had wrapped him up tightly, his little nose was still red and frozen. Rogero, who had returned to the palace with Erwin in his arms, ordered a servant to bring him a cup of warm melted chocolate and placed a small brazier near the dangling feet.
“If Erwin catches a cold, your uncle will get in big trouble with your father.”
“It’s okay. Dad won’t scold you.”
Erwin answered innocently. Rogero thought as he pushed the drink the servant had brought towards Erwin.
'Franz, you're raising your child too softly.'
“Uncle Rogero.”
"Why?"
“Which one said to be friends first, Uncle or Dad?”
Rogero smiled involuntarily at his innocent question. He took out a clean handkerchief, wiped the chocolate off the corner of his small mouth, and said.
“Friends don’t become friends because someone asks to be friends first. They just become friends as they spend time together.”
“What if they’re together?”
“Then. But it was uncle who asked your Dad to be friends with me first. Did Dad hate your uncle at first?”
Erwin's eyes widened. Now five years old, his father was half the world to him. Young Erwin could not understand how his loving and perfect father could hate his favorite uncle in the world.
“Why? Why did Dad hate you, Uncle?”
“Hmm, well... I guess it was because Uncle teased your dad a little.”
“But how did you become friends?”
Rogero blinked. Then he rested his chin on his hand and became lost in thought.
“Franz, who taught you swordsmanship? Where did you learn it? Do all the royals of Rotair train like that?”
At around noon on a day when there were no lectures, Rogero was lying in bed without even changing out of the loose tunic he had been wearing when he went to bed. It was a complete contrast to Franz, who would wake up early, wash, change into neat clothes, and sit at his desk to finish his mountain of homework, regardless of whether there were lectures or not.
“You don’t seem to have learned it in a day or two. And your movements! You usually look like a wet scarecrow, but what are those aggressive movements? I was surprised. I heard that even the borders of Rotair are peaceful. Is there a reason you learned such things?”
“There is no particular reason.”
After Rogero had been rambling on and on for quite some time, Franz finally managed to give a single answer. Their conversations were always like this, and at first, Rogero would often get angry, thinking that Franz was deliberately ignoring him. But now that he had come to know his personality a little, he stopped urging him on so recklessly.
“Why are you so sincere?”
As Rogero adapted to Franz, Franz also adapted to him to some extent. His hasty temper, his topics flying around, his naive personality that seemed to have no solution. At first, Franz wondered if there was such a person, but after learning that Rogers was the third son of the Emperor, the Prince of Delacca, his unruly personality became understandable. Franz glanced at Rogero. However, it was Rogero who opened his mouth.
“You’re the eldest son anyway. Even though you haven’t been crowned Crown Prince yet, you’re going to inherit the throne, right? I don’t know what kind of person your younger brother is, but I don’t think he’s more honest than you. If he were more honest than you, he wouldn’t be a human being, but an ant or a bee.”
The ambiguous tone of speech, whether intended to be an insult or a joke, was now familiar. Franz let out a short sigh and blinked for a moment. Rogero, who thought he would be ignored this time, was about to lie down when he unexpectedly heard a reply.
“I’m not in as comfortable a position as you think.”
“Even if I ask you what’s going on, you’re not going to answer, are you?”
“...It’s just that my position is weak. It’s enough to know that much.”
Rogero nodded his head, saying, “Hmm.”
“So that’s why you work so hard?”
“It’s not just because of that.”
Franz’s fingertips, holding the pen, trembled faintly. Rogero saw it but pretended not to notice. As the time he spent living in Delacca increased, he thought Franz's impression had become brighter than when he first met him, but whenever the topic of Rotair came up, he would shut his mouth like a clamshell. Not only that, he built many walls around himself and locked the doors.
“It’s not because of the throne or anything like that. There’s someone who worked hard to get me here. Because of that person... I’m working hard. I don’t want to disappoint her. That’s all.”
Rogero, who had been lying down, changed his position and stared at Franz. It was the first time he had told his story to this extent. Who had gone through all the trouble to send him here? He wondered who it was. Surely the Royal House of Rotair was not so poor that they had to mobilize everyone to work as day laborers just to send one Prince to study abroad.
'Anyway, I said he's a peculiar guy.'
Rogero thought so and smiled. It doesn't matter. Although he was an unusual guy, Franz, whom Rogero had observed for the past month or so, was by no means a mean or ill-tempered person. He did not resort to lazy tricks, cowardly acts, or act violently.
To Rogero, who had seen countless human figures and terrible things throughout his not-so-long life and thus had little expectation of the lowest aspects of humanity, Franz was a refreshing and pleasant presence, like a breath of clean air.
“Franz, I really like you. Even though you have a gloomy expression, like a wet scarecrow, and you are more blunt than a block of wood.”
“Do you want to curse or compliment me?”
“This is a compliment, of course! So, let’s stop doing homework and go have lunch together. I want some soup with lots of broth.”
A considerable number of people were invited to the banquet on the eve of Franz's birthday. Originally, there were many formalities on the day of the King's birthday, such as a procession and an audience, so the actual party to receive congratulations from close people was always held the day before.
Erwin whined that he wanted to play with Rogero until late at night, and eventually fell asleep on a chair in the banquet hall. After the nanny took Erwin away, Judith also went outside with Cheraan, saying she needed to get some fresh air. Rogero, who was hanging out with Bartholomew whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, suddenly turned into a drinking game, and the table where they were sitting was noisy.
“Your Majesty, I sincerely congratulate you on your birthday.”
Franz, who was sitting on a chair and watching Rogero and Bartholomew repeatedly raise and lower their glasses, turned his head obliquely. It was Marquis Ebelta, Cheraan's father.
“Thank you, Marquis. Are you enjoying the banquet?”
“Of course. Everyone is having fun.”
Franz motioned to the Marquis to take a seat. The Marquis bowed politely and sat down next to Franz, still holding his glass. He was about the same age as the Duke of Vergy, but he was starting to look a little older now. Franz, who had been quietly looking at the wrinkles he had not noticed before, said:
“I heard you had a bad cold. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m sorry and honored. I took a few days off and I’m feeling better now.”
“In winter, pay more attention to your health. Since there is no Marquis, many things do not go back, and the officials are in disarray.”
The Marquis nodded with a hearty laugh. Despite his age, he was still upright and bright-faced. Franz continued.
“What about twins?”
“Oh, I saw them a few days ago. They're growing well.”
Cheraan found out that she was pregnant not long after Judith gave birth to Erwin. Her belly gradually grew, and after a month or two, everyone joked that she would be pregnant with a large baby just like the father, as her belly was surprisingly large for a firstborn. But when she actually gave birth, she was born with two babies.
“I also often ask the Queen to bring the children, but Cheraan never does. Marquis, please speak up.”
The Marquis laughed, pretending to be ashamed.
“I’m afraid that the two children will cause trouble in the palace. Whenever the children run around or play, I often punish them harshly. I didn’t even think about it when I was older. It’s so funny.”
Even as he said that the Marquis' face clearly showed his pride in his daughter. Franz took a sip of wine with a smile on his face and said,
“Bartholomew was a great prankster when he was young.”
“Your Majesty, you were like that too. Don’t you remember?”
The Marquis's gaze was playful as if he was saying, 'Don't you remember when you were a tadpole?' Franz pretended to cough and shrugged.
“I was a quiet child compared to Bartholomew.”
“I still remember the scene where Your Majesty and Captain Vergy stole alcohol and lay down to be scolded by the late Queen Mother.”
“The Marquis knew about that too?”
“There was no one in the palace who was not familiar with it.”
“I never drank too much after that. The drinks I had to drink to get rid of the hangover tasted horrible.”
After finishing speaking, Franz looked at Rogero and Bartholomew, who were still betting on the drinks, with leisurely eyes. He had a mischievous expression on his face as if he was thinking, “I should make them a glass of that too tomorrow morning.”
“I am very pleased that Your Majesty has gained many trustworthy friends.”
At the Marquis's words, Franz suddenly turned to him as if to ask what he meant.
“Not only Captain Vergy, but my daughter also cares for and trusts Your Majesty as much as the Queen Mother. The young nobles who have newly become officials... and His Highness the Prince of Delaca as well. Thanks to your good faith and friendship, aren't the new ports and trading posts in the southern regions developing peacefully? All the happiness and joy that Your Majesty enjoys is also a joy to those of us who are nearing retirement.”
The moment he finished speaking, Franz smiled brightly. His expression was full of emotion.
“...No matter what, I still cannot accept the Marquis’ letter of resignation.”
“Of course. I can’t lose to the young guys yet. I’ll step down when I’m a bit older, so don’t worry. I’ll stay in the capital until I find a quiet place where I can enjoy the rest of my life with my wife.”
The Marquis laughed heartily and stood up, holding his glass.
“Once again, I congratulate you on your birthday. May you live long and be strong, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Marquis.”
After he left, Rogero walked up to Franz, as if the drinking was finally over. He looked very happy, as his expression had not changed even after drinking so much. Franz said as he watched Rogero sit down in the empty seat left by the Marquis.
“You’re pouring so much alcohol because you want to lie down with your head wrapped again tomorrow?”
Although it wasn't a very cold day, it was winter, and even though the palace staff had wrapped him up tightly, his little nose was still red and frozen. Rogero, who had returned to the palace with Erwin in his arms, ordered a servant to bring him a cup of warm melted chocolate and placed a small brazier near the dangling feet.
“If Erwin catches a cold, your uncle will get in big trouble with your father.”
“It’s okay. Dad won’t scold you.”
Erwin answered innocently. Rogero thought as he pushed the drink the servant had brought towards Erwin.
'Franz, you're raising your child too softly.'
“Uncle Rogero.”
"Why?"
“Which one said to be friends first, Uncle or Dad?”
Rogero smiled involuntarily at his innocent question. He took out a clean handkerchief, wiped the chocolate off the corner of his small mouth, and said.
“Friends don’t become friends because someone asks to be friends first. They just become friends as they spend time together.”
“What if they’re together?”
“Then. But it was uncle who asked your Dad to be friends with me first. Did Dad hate your uncle at first?”
Erwin's eyes widened. Now five years old, his father was half the world to him. Young Erwin could not understand how his loving and perfect father could hate his favorite uncle in the world.
“Why? Why did Dad hate you, Uncle?”
“Hmm, well... I guess it was because Uncle teased your dad a little.”
“But how did you become friends?”
Rogero blinked. Then he rested his chin on his hand and became lost in thought.
***
“Franz, who taught you swordsmanship? Where did you learn it? Do all the royals of Rotair train like that?”
At around noon on a day when there were no lectures, Rogero was lying in bed without even changing out of the loose tunic he had been wearing when he went to bed. It was a complete contrast to Franz, who would wake up early, wash, change into neat clothes, and sit at his desk to finish his mountain of homework, regardless of whether there were lectures or not.
“You don’t seem to have learned it in a day or two. And your movements! You usually look like a wet scarecrow, but what are those aggressive movements? I was surprised. I heard that even the borders of Rotair are peaceful. Is there a reason you learned such things?”
“There is no particular reason.”
After Rogero had been rambling on and on for quite some time, Franz finally managed to give a single answer. Their conversations were always like this, and at first, Rogero would often get angry, thinking that Franz was deliberately ignoring him. But now that he had come to know his personality a little, he stopped urging him on so recklessly.
“Why are you so sincere?”
As Rogero adapted to Franz, Franz also adapted to him to some extent. His hasty temper, his topics flying around, his naive personality that seemed to have no solution. At first, Franz wondered if there was such a person, but after learning that Rogers was the third son of the Emperor, the Prince of Delacca, his unruly personality became understandable. Franz glanced at Rogero. However, it was Rogero who opened his mouth.
“You’re the eldest son anyway. Even though you haven’t been crowned Crown Prince yet, you’re going to inherit the throne, right? I don’t know what kind of person your younger brother is, but I don’t think he’s more honest than you. If he were more honest than you, he wouldn’t be a human being, but an ant or a bee.”
The ambiguous tone of speech, whether intended to be an insult or a joke, was now familiar. Franz let out a short sigh and blinked for a moment. Rogero, who thought he would be ignored this time, was about to lie down when he unexpectedly heard a reply.
“I’m not in as comfortable a position as you think.”
“Even if I ask you what’s going on, you’re not going to answer, are you?”
“...It’s just that my position is weak. It’s enough to know that much.”
Rogero nodded his head, saying, “Hmm.”
“So that’s why you work so hard?”
“It’s not just because of that.”
Franz’s fingertips, holding the pen, trembled faintly. Rogero saw it but pretended not to notice. As the time he spent living in Delacca increased, he thought Franz's impression had become brighter than when he first met him, but whenever the topic of Rotair came up, he would shut his mouth like a clamshell. Not only that, he built many walls around himself and locked the doors.
“It’s not because of the throne or anything like that. There’s someone who worked hard to get me here. Because of that person... I’m working hard. I don’t want to disappoint her. That’s all.”
Rogero, who had been lying down, changed his position and stared at Franz. It was the first time he had told his story to this extent. Who had gone through all the trouble to send him here? He wondered who it was. Surely the Royal House of Rotair was not so poor that they had to mobilize everyone to work as day laborers just to send one Prince to study abroad.
'Anyway, I said he's a peculiar guy.'
Rogero thought so and smiled. It doesn't matter. Although he was an unusual guy, Franz, whom Rogero had observed for the past month or so, was by no means a mean or ill-tempered person. He did not resort to lazy tricks, cowardly acts, or act violently.
To Rogero, who had seen countless human figures and terrible things throughout his not-so-long life and thus had little expectation of the lowest aspects of humanity, Franz was a refreshing and pleasant presence, like a breath of clean air.
“Franz, I really like you. Even though you have a gloomy expression, like a wet scarecrow, and you are more blunt than a block of wood.”
“Do you want to curse or compliment me?”
“This is a compliment, of course! So, let’s stop doing homework and go have lunch together. I want some soup with lots of broth.”
***
A considerable number of people were invited to the banquet on the eve of Franz's birthday. Originally, there were many formalities on the day of the King's birthday, such as a procession and an audience, so the actual party to receive congratulations from close people was always held the day before.
Erwin whined that he wanted to play with Rogero until late at night, and eventually fell asleep on a chair in the banquet hall. After the nanny took Erwin away, Judith also went outside with Cheraan, saying she needed to get some fresh air. Rogero, who was hanging out with Bartholomew whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, suddenly turned into a drinking game, and the table where they were sitting was noisy.
“Your Majesty, I sincerely congratulate you on your birthday.”
Franz, who was sitting on a chair and watching Rogero and Bartholomew repeatedly raise and lower their glasses, turned his head obliquely. It was Marquis Ebelta, Cheraan's father.
“Thank you, Marquis. Are you enjoying the banquet?”
“Of course. Everyone is having fun.”
Franz motioned to the Marquis to take a seat. The Marquis bowed politely and sat down next to Franz, still holding his glass. He was about the same age as the Duke of Vergy, but he was starting to look a little older now. Franz, who had been quietly looking at the wrinkles he had not noticed before, said:
“I heard you had a bad cold. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m sorry and honored. I took a few days off and I’m feeling better now.”
“In winter, pay more attention to your health. Since there is no Marquis, many things do not go back, and the officials are in disarray.”
The Marquis nodded with a hearty laugh. Despite his age, he was still upright and bright-faced. Franz continued.
“What about twins?”
“Oh, I saw them a few days ago. They're growing well.”
Cheraan found out that she was pregnant not long after Judith gave birth to Erwin. Her belly gradually grew, and after a month or two, everyone joked that she would be pregnant with a large baby just like the father, as her belly was surprisingly large for a firstborn. But when she actually gave birth, she was born with two babies.
“I also often ask the Queen to bring the children, but Cheraan never does. Marquis, please speak up.”
The Marquis laughed, pretending to be ashamed.
“I’m afraid that the two children will cause trouble in the palace. Whenever the children run around or play, I often punish them harshly. I didn’t even think about it when I was older. It’s so funny.”
Even as he said that the Marquis' face clearly showed his pride in his daughter. Franz took a sip of wine with a smile on his face and said,
“Bartholomew was a great prankster when he was young.”
“Your Majesty, you were like that too. Don’t you remember?”
The Marquis's gaze was playful as if he was saying, 'Don't you remember when you were a tadpole?' Franz pretended to cough and shrugged.
“I was a quiet child compared to Bartholomew.”
“I still remember the scene where Your Majesty and Captain Vergy stole alcohol and lay down to be scolded by the late Queen Mother.”
“The Marquis knew about that too?”
“There was no one in the palace who was not familiar with it.”
“I never drank too much after that. The drinks I had to drink to get rid of the hangover tasted horrible.”
After finishing speaking, Franz looked at Rogero and Bartholomew, who were still betting on the drinks, with leisurely eyes. He had a mischievous expression on his face as if he was thinking, “I should make them a glass of that too tomorrow morning.”
“I am very pleased that Your Majesty has gained many trustworthy friends.”
At the Marquis's words, Franz suddenly turned to him as if to ask what he meant.
“Not only Captain Vergy, but my daughter also cares for and trusts Your Majesty as much as the Queen Mother. The young nobles who have newly become officials... and His Highness the Prince of Delaca as well. Thanks to your good faith and friendship, aren't the new ports and trading posts in the southern regions developing peacefully? All the happiness and joy that Your Majesty enjoys is also a joy to those of us who are nearing retirement.”
The moment he finished speaking, Franz smiled brightly. His expression was full of emotion.
“...No matter what, I still cannot accept the Marquis’ letter of resignation.”
“Of course. I can’t lose to the young guys yet. I’ll step down when I’m a bit older, so don’t worry. I’ll stay in the capital until I find a quiet place where I can enjoy the rest of my life with my wife.”
The Marquis laughed heartily and stood up, holding his glass.
“Once again, I congratulate you on your birthday. May you live long and be strong, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Marquis.”
After he left, Rogero walked up to Franz, as if the drinking was finally over. He looked very happy, as his expression had not changed even after drinking so much. Franz said as he watched Rogero sit down in the empty seat left by the Marquis.
“You’re pouring so much alcohol because you want to lie down with your head wrapped again tomorrow?”
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