Translator: Nox

Chapter 24

24

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As the young Crown Prince led his retinue into the vast manor of Mordawin Monastery, hundreds of citizens scattered flower petals along the path.

Gares raised a hand as if responding to the welcome. The cheers of the citizens grew even louder. It was a routine he had repeated to the point of boredom over the past few days, yet it was a ceremony he never quite grew tired of. He held his chin higher and spurred his horse forward with a triumphant air.

Once they passed through the crowded, bustling streets, a wide courtyard and a magnificent temple revealed themselves. He brought the knights to a halt in front of a building that appeared to be a prayer hall.

“You have worked hard to travel such a long distance.”

A moment later, a man dressed in snow-white monastic robes stepped forward to meet him.

Gares observed him closely from atop his horse. The man had a face as sharp as an arrowhead and pale silver hair with a bluish tint.

He soon realized that this young monk was not entirely human. His complexion was unnervingly pale, and the tips of his ears were pointed. He was likely a half-elf or a quarter-elf.

It was not an unusual sight. In the northeastern regions of the old Kingdom of Osiria, it wasn’t difficult to find those with the blood of elves or dwarves mixed in their veins.

Gares suppressed an instinctive revulsion for those different from his own kind and asked in a dignified tone.

“Are you the Abbot here?”

“I am, Your Imperial Highness. My name is Basilis, and I am charged with the management of this monastery.”

The man wore a gentle smile on his lips.

“I sincerely welcome you to Mordawin.”

“This land is where my ancestor, the Great Emperor Darian, won his first victory against the North, and it is a sacred place where he received the revelation of his mission to unify the nations. I, too, am truly pleased to be here,” Gares said, dismounting his horse with the arrogant cadence characteristic of the imperial family.

“In accordance with imperial tradition, I wish to receive a blessing in the names of the saints. Pray that divine grace falls upon the future of both myself and my sister.”

“I shall obey with a joyful heart.”

The Abbot replied politely and added cautiously.

“For now, why not head to my private residence to recover from the fatigue of your journey? We have been preparing a grand banquet for several days to welcome Your Highness.”

Gares hesitated for a moment.

Originally, they were supposed to stay in the lodgings meant for pilgrims. Staying at the Abbot’s private residence could potentially be seen as a political favor.

Gares glanced back at Barkas, who stood behind him like a shadow. Perhaps not wanting to draw attention, Barkas had half of his face hidden behind a long hood.

After slowly surveying the monastery as if in deep thought, Barkas finally gave a nod.

“Do as Your Highness pleases.”

“Very well. Then we shall stay at the Abbot’s residence tonight.”

As soon as his permission was given, the waiting servants descended the stairs in perfect order to attend to the guests. Gares handed over his reins to them and gave a word of instruction to Barkas.

“You make sure to take good care of Aila. This is her first time traveling so far; everything will be unfamiliar and uncomfortable for her.”

Barkas, who had been patting his horse, gave a light nod.

Gares frowned slightly. He wished Barkas would show even half as much devotion to his sister as he did to his horse.

Muttering to himself, Gares followed the monks. Suddenly, an ornate carriage positioned at the edge of the clearing caught his eye.

He glared at the carriage window, which was shrouded in thick curtains, and furrowed his brow. Whether she was lying low now or had finally realized her place, Talia Roem Guirta had remained cooped up inside throughout the entire journey, never showing her face. It made his firm resolve to wring her slender neck the moment she tried any nonsense feel almost futile.

‘It would be best if she stayed quiet like this, but…’

There was no way Talia Roem Guirta would do that. She was a girl who had tagged along with foul intentions in the first place. There was no telling when, where, or what kind of trouble she might stir up.

Staring intently at the carriage, Gares shouted harshly toward Barkas.

“And tell that girl clearly: stay as quiet as a dead mouse and keep out of my sight, just as she’s been doing.”

Barkas’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He seemed displeased that Gares was openly displaying hostility toward his half-sister. Come to think of it, Barkas had uncharacteristically nagged him to mind his words and actions for the sake of his reputation.

Gares let out a pointed snort and turned away abruptly. Was there anyone among the imperial citizens who didn’t know the Crown Prince wanted to tear his father’s bastard limb from limb? Why bother keeping it a secret?

He held his chin high and followed the priests to the grand mansion located behind the main hall.

The Abbot’s residence was as luxurious as any annex in the Imperial Palace. A satisfied smile rose to his lips at the thought that he could spend at least tonight in comfort. He stepped into the magnificent hall, following the monks.

The Abbot guided him to the most opulent room in the mansion.

Gares looked around the fairly spacious bedroom as if evaluating it. It seemed to be the room usually used by the Abbot, as paintings depicting holy wars hung throughout the room, and a prayer book and theological texts sat on the desk.

The decorations weren’t quite to his taste, but otherwise, it was enough to pass his inspection. He shrugged off his cloak, which smelled of horses, and gave orders to the servants waiting by the door.

“I wish to wash first. Prepare a large tub filled with clean water, big enough for me to stretch my legs out.”

As the servants dispersed, he sat in a chair by the window and gestured toward the squires who had followed him. At the silent command, the two boys immediately began to strip off his armor.

Gares left himself to them and picked up a wine glass sitting on a shelf. A quick-witted servant immediately filled the glass. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of the chilled wine. The thick liquid slid down his throat, and a powerful aroma filled his mouth.

Savoring the intense flavor lingering on the tip of his tongue, he let out a languid groan. He felt he could look forward to the banquet. The wine prepared by the monastery suited his palate quite well, even though he was accustomed to all sorts of rare liquors.

‘The holy land business must be quite lucrative.’

He twisted his lips into a smirk as he looked out at the vast manor of the monastery through the glass window. High-ranking priests often enjoyed wealth comparable to that of most nobles. The Abbot here was undoubtedly living a life as extravagant as a high-ranking aristocrat.

Freed from his heavy armor, Gares stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and plunged into the bathwater the monks had prepared. Servants immediately began scrubbing his body with soft brushes. He leaned his head against the tub wall and sipped the remaining wine.

After lounging like that for some time, a bit of vitality returned to his body, which had been exhausted from half a day of riding. He stepped out of the tub and dressed in the summer evening wear the servants had prepared. Then, after donning a velvet gown with minimal ornamentation, he left the room under the guidance of the monks.

“We have prepared the meal in the hall directly downstairs,” the monk holding a lantern said cautiously as they descended the marble stairs covered in soft carpet.

Gares merely nodded with a disinterested face. A monarch was supposed to speak as little as possible. He knew all too well how much silence could accomplish, precisely because he kept a man who was the very incarnation of silence by his side.

Gares discovered Barkas standing tall at the entrance of the hall, as if waiting for him, and furrowed his brow.

Whenever he saw him, a strange sense of hostility would suddenly rear its head. This was true even though Barkas had never once defied him. Was it because of the unique presence this man possessed? Or was it because he rarely showed his inner thoughts?

He had watched him since they were children, but Barkas always felt like a wary stranger. That made Gares even more uneasy.

Was it truly alright to entrust his other half to this man?

“Where is Aila?”

“Her Highness is resting in the dormitory used by the priestesses. She said she would not attend the banquet as she is tired.”

“It’s understandable she’s exhausted after camping out for several days.”

“I have provided her with medicine to aid her recovery, so there is no need for great concern.”

Gares frowned at the dry response. He knew that this man at least took a softer tone with his sister.

Despite being a man in his prime, Barkas Raedgo Siyeokan treated women like stones. He was so cold toward the women who approached him that it made Gares shudder just watching. He supposed he should consider it a relief that Barkas at least allowed Aila near him.

However, Gares could not bring himself to view his lukewarm attitude favorably. To have secured the most precious treasure in the Empire and yet show not a shred of gratitude—it was an arrogance he couldn’t stand.

He snapped in a somewhat sharp tone.

“Aila is your fiancée. Shouldn’t you put a bit more heart into caring for her?”