Ch#56
56
He wasn’t exactly frowning, so why did it feel so uncomfortable?
Asros, who had been feigning indifference while fiddling with a button on his clothes, finally looked up after a long while.
Lord Shearkan had already moved to the left transept and was in conversation with the High Priest.
Asros narrowed his eyes at the seemingly grave atmosphere.
Since the Lord’s back was turned, Asros couldn’t see his expression, but he could see the veins bulging on the old priest’s withered neck.
As the priest’s shoulders heaved while he vented some grievance, a cold aura flickered across Lord Shearkan’s face.
At a glance, they didn’t seem to be on friendly terms. Asros’s eyes sparkled with interest.
‘What are they talking about?’
The priests were staunch supporters of the Crown Prince, and the same was true for the next Grand Duke Shearkan.
He was curious as to why two people in the same power circle were at odds.
Driven by curiosity, Asros stealthily slipped out of the pews. He was about to hide behind a pillar at the crossing to eavesdrop on their conversation when someone grabbed him firmly by the scruff of the neck.
Asros jerked his head up, saw Berens’s stern face, and let his eyebrows droop.
Berens looked down at him with a somber face and scolded him in a low voice.
“They are Your Highness’s political enemies. Do not go near them.”
“What political enemies? I don’t have anything like that.”
He tried to protest with a pout, but the man didn’t budge.
Asros made a dissatisfied face and rolled his eyes back toward the transept.
By then, Lord Shearkan had finished his conversation with the High Priest and was walking toward the crossing.
Asros hurriedly hid behind Berens’s legs.
Lord Shearkan cast a fleeting, indifferent glance at him before stroking across the nave with an elegant gait.
Watching that retreating back from behind Berens, Asros asked in a hushed voice.
“What do you think the High Priest said to Lord Shearkan?”
“He was likely reproaching him for this current incident.”
“Why? Lord Shearkan and the Cathedral are allies. Even if Lord Shearkan did something wrong, shouldn’t they cover for him?”
A faint, bitter smile brushed past Berens’s eyes.
“The world is not that simple.”
Berens spoke reprovingly as he turned his head toward the altar where the funeral rites were underway, continuing slowly.
“Many among the priesthood harbor resentment toward the Khan people. In particular, the hatred the fundamentalist priests feel for the Shearkan clan runs deep.”
Asros started to ask why, then closed his mouth. The lessons from his history classes flashed through his mind.
In the past, it was the Khan people who had fought until the very end against the movement to unify the kingdoms led by Darian Roem Guirta.
They had even managed to mortally wound Wigru, the knight said to have been chosen by God, during the ‘Final Battle’ in the north.
After the war ended, the Easterners were also incorporated into the Roem Empire, but even now, the Khan people had not fully integrated into the Western world, and the hostility of the Imperial citizens toward them had not completely vanished.
Recalling those facts, Asros suddenly let out a snort.
“It’s stupid. Other tribes fought bloodily too. Isn’t it too petty to ostracize them just because they were the last ones to surrender?”
Berens looked down at Asros with a momentarily surprised gaze, then slightly curled his lips.
“It’s not just for that reason. It’s closer to the fact that they are wary of the Shearkan clan because they possess powerful strength.”
“Powerful strength?”
When he tilted his head and asked back, Berens remained silent for a moment before slowly opening his mouth.
“According to records, a certain percentage of the Shearkan clan were born with strange abilities, such as seeing the future, seeing through people’s hearts, or commanding all sorts of beasts at will. Thanks to that eerie power, they once reigned as objects of fear.”
Asros’s eyes sparkled at the interesting story.
“Does Lord Shearkan have some special ability too?”
“It is highly unlikely. The priests examined him thoroughly, but they said they found nothing unusual.”
Berens said, stroking his chin as if lost in thought.
“Perhaps the ability faded because the blood was diluted over several generations. Not since a powerful mind reader was born eighty years ago has a ‘Primal Sorcerer’ appeared in the Shearkan family.”
Having stated that definitively, he stroked his chin as if something had suddenly occurred to him and added.
“Come to think of it, I did hear a rumor that the former Empress possessed the power of foresight, but…”
“Brother’s mother?”
Asros asked back with a surprised face.
Berens hesitated for a moment as if thinking, then shook his head.
“It’s likely nothing more than a rumor created by those who wished to deify that woman. The Crown Prince and the First Princess are ordinary, are they not?”
Then, with a gentle smile, he added.
“Perhaps the abilities of the Khan people have vanished completely.”
Asros felt slightly annoyed by the reassuring tone.
Why was the Shearkan clan losing their ancestral abilities something for him to be relieved about?
He had no intention of opposing his brother. Therefore, the Shearkan clan was not his enemy either.
However, knowing that saying such things would only be dismissed as a child’s tantrum, he kept his mouth shut.
“It seems the ceremony is almost over. You should head back now.”
Seeing the people in the seats of honor leaving the nave one by one, Berens placed a hand lightly on his back.
Asros immediately followed him out of the chapel. He, too, did not want to run into his half-siblings, who viewed him as a thorn in their side.
They avoided the main gate crowded with mourners and headed to the rear garden. However, even in the backyard, a group of nobles were gathered and chatting.
Asros scowled fiercely when he spotted Gares’s fervent followers among them.
They wouldn’t dare harm him, an Imperial Prince, but there was no reason to face those unpleasant faces.
He grabbed Berens’s hand and turned toward a narrow, heavily shaded path.
Just then, a familiar name reached his ears.
“What do you think the chances are of Thalia Roem Guirta recovering?”
“Who knows. I heard she was found almost like a corpse; even the elves will find it hard to cure her completely.”
Asros’s eyes widened as he looked up at Berens.
“Is that true?”
Berens hesitated for a moment as if debating something, then slowly nodded.
Asros’s face immediately turned grave.
He had heard that his sister’s condition was not good, but he hadn’t known she was injured badly enough for such rumors to circulate.
He asked accusingly.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me my sister was hurt?”
“Because it is not a story Your Highness needs to know.”
“She is my sister! Of course you should have told me.”
When he raised his voice sharply, the noisy garden fell silent as if cold water had been poured over it.
Asros turned his head and frowned at the sight of the nobles, who belatedly noticed him and were hurriedly showing their respects.
Not wanting to deal with them, he exited the garden with the widest strides possible, while Berens followed silently behind and let out a sigh.
“Your Highness, that lady hates you. Even if you show concern, you will not be rewarded for it.”
Asros stopped dead in his tracks and glared at him.
In his head, he knew Berens wasn’t wrong. Thalia Roem Guirta disliked him. Hadn’t she said so herself?
But he didn’t want to admit that fact so easily.
“Maybe, just maybe, she regrets saying that to me. That day she might have just… said something harsh because she was feeling cranky. People are like that sometimes, you know.”
“…”
“If I go to visit her, won’t she say she’s sorry to me?”
It was an impulsive thing to say, but it sounded quite plausible.
Asros immediately turned toward the Separate Palace without even waiting for Berens’s answer.
On the way, he gathered an armful of the prettiest flowers in the garden as a get-well gift.
She’ll be so surprised when I show up, won’t she?
Maybe, she might even feel like being a little fond of such a good younger brother.
Swelling with anticipation, Asros walked across the vast grounds without stopping.
Eventually, beyond the garden lush with flowers and leaves, a crudely shaped gray building came into view.
