Chapter 58: Whited Sepulchre

Three days passed.

For the Kingdom of Falsbane, it felt like three weeks.

The duel of the Four Princes was all anyone talked about.

In taverns and marketplaces, people argued over who had done what, and which part of the fight was the best.

Bards had already written many songs about it.

But when the arguing was done, everyone arrived at the same name.

Prince Godfrey.

The First Prince, the golden knight of the Melcian Church, who had been struck down in front of fifty thousand people and then stood back up in a blaze of holy light.

To the commoners, it’s story you tell your children.

A humble prince, a devout prince, who was rewarded by the gods for his faith. People left flowers at the church gates every morning and mothers held up their babies when his carriage passed. Even vendors sold little wooden shields painted gold, and they sold out by noon.

The nobles were not so united.

Some of them praised him loudly, mostly the ones who had always eyed the Church’s growing influence and wanted to be on the right side of it early.

Others kept their mouths shut and gossiped.

A prince who was loved by the people and sworn to the Church was not the kind of prince the crown ever wanted.

As for the other princes...

Leander Falsbane, the Third Prince, had not stopped talking since the day he was carried out of the arena.

The problem was that none of it made sense.

"The time is a traitor!"

"We should all be afraid of the Empire!"

"I am chosen. I am the law. I am chosen."

That was most of the crazy things he said all day.

Wielding Zelgius at the peak of a bloodline awakening had burned something inside him that no healing spell could reach. The King had ordered the best physicians in the kingdom to the East Wing.

He had ordered a sealed room, a dozen guards, and privacy.

The only one who never left that room was his mother.

Bradley, the Fourth Prince, had it far easier.

He woke up on the second day. The physicians stared at him as if he had risen from the dead. A body that had taken two pillars of lightning should’ve stayed down for a month, but the Minerva had already healed her son using blood magic.

As for Adonis, he hadn’t woken up at all.

Minerva healed every wound on his body within hours, but the real problem was never his body, it was severe mana exhaustion from the duel. ℯℯ𝑙.

The royal physicians told Minerva the same thing.

"Mana depletion. At this stage... all we can do is wait."

"Is that so? Then there’s nothing much I can do, apparently."

The physicians left after hearing that.

...

The sky was still grey when Maid Clara closed her last bag.

She didn’t have much to pack.

Uniforms she wouldn’t need anymore, a brush, and a small mirror. She stood in the servants’ quarters and looked at the empty bed where she had lain awake for three nights, and for the first time in months, she was not afraid.

She was only tired.

She thought about the duel often. The night Adonis had asked her so politely to "keep an eye on Tiamat." The way she’d hurried it to Queen Lucelia’s chambers with her heart pounding.

And then what happened at the arena.

’That’s why he was thankful...’

It’d taken her a full day to understand it.

She’d betrayed the Fourth Queen, and she’d betrayed the Third Queen, and she’d done both with her own two hands, without ever realizing she was a piece on the board.

The only mercy in all of it was that Queen Lucelia didn’t know. The Third Queen thought her plan had failed because the Fifth Prince was lucky. If she’d known her own spy was a tool, the silver wouldn’t have been the only thing she took away from Clara.

But she couldn’t go back to Queen Minerva either. How could she look her in the face? Minerva had trusted her above every other maid in the palace.

She threw away that trust for money.

Clara pulled her bag over her shoulder and left the palace at the first light of dawn.

She took the long road to the slums.

By the time she reached the little crooked street where she’d grown up, the sun was fully up.

And there were carriages outside her house.

About seven fine ones with painted doors and majestic horses brushed to a shine, lined up against the broken fence like they didn’t even belong anywhere near this dump.

Servants were unloading sacks of flour, bolts of cloth, wheels of cheese, barrels of salted fish, a whole cart of firewood, and many other luxurious items.

Neighbors stood in the street with their mouths open.

"Clara!"

Her mother came running out of the house.

Her father hurriedly followed behind her, waving both arms like he’d lost his mind.

"Clara, Clara, did you see?! Did you see?!"

"What... what is all this?"

"Gifts! From the Fifth Prince! The whole street’s been talking about it since last night! He sent all of it, with a letter!"

"A letter with his seal on it!"

Her mother cried, clutching it to her chest.

Clara’s heart stopped.

Like the mother, the father had good things to say as well.

"He didn’t even bother showing his face to ask for praise. Can you imagine? A prince, sending all this, and he didn’t even show up to take the credit. He just sent people! Such a humble boy! May the gods bless his name!"

"We told the neighbors our daughter works for a saint."

Clara wanted to scream at them and their praises.

’He’s not a saint. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’

She could only say it in her mind.

But her father was still talking.

"And we went to the duel, you know. Your mother insisted. We sat all the way in the back, but I could see him. Gods, what a sight! Such a handsome boy. And so powerful! Even if he didn’t win, we’re proud of him! I’d say we’re proud of our son-in-law!"

"...Son-in-law?"

"You don’t have to hide it anymore, dear."

Her mother patted her cheek with a knowing smile.

"A prince doesn’t send carriages to a girl he doesn’t like."

Clara’s face went red.

...

"Hmm."

Three women stood around a bed with their arms folded.

Mariella, Prussia, and Minerva.

All of them were looking at the same sleeping man.

Adonis lay in the center of the royal bed with his golden hair spread over the pillow and his chest rising and falling in slow, gentle breaths. He looked peaceful, but he’d looked exactly the same for four days.

They wanted more than that.

Mariella sighed frustratedly. "As much as I hate to admit it, it seems this special technique isn’t working."

Prussia didn’t bother looking at her.

"Uh-huh, your special technique, was kissing him on the mouth and waiting."

"It’s a Soron family method!"

"It’s not a method."

"It’s in a book!"

"Which book?"

"...A romance one."

Prussia let her arms fall to her sides as her blue eyes dropped to the floor dejectedly.

"If anything, I’m the one to blame. I should’ve been faster. A knight who can’t protect her charge... to leave him like this, I’ve failed as his guard."

"Hmm."

Minerva tapped her fan against her chin.

"As much as I’d love to put the blame on you, dear, it isn’t really anyone’s fault."

Prussia blinked up at her.

"I’ve healed every wound on his body with my blood magic. That part is finished. The problem is his mana. It’s completely depleted, and that is very rare for royals. Their bloodlines run deep. Falsbane children are born with oceans inside them. To drain an ocean dry, you’d have to give everything. Every last drop."

She looked down at Adonis with really soft eyes.

"He must have really given it his all out there."

Prussia was quiet for a moment.

"...Yes, he did. He looked... really manly out there."

Both Minerva and Mariella looked at the tan-skinned lady.

"Prussia, are you blushing?"

"I’m not."

"You are a little pink, dear."

"..."

Prussia stared straight ahead at the wall and didn’t answer.

Mariella and Minerva exchanged a very long look.

That’s when Adonis opened his eyes.

His golden lashes fluttered beautifully and they finally saw his majestic blue eyes after all this time.

"...Ugh."

Three heads leaned over him at once.

"Morning, sleepyhead." Mariella chirped with shiny eyes.

"Welcome back, my love~" Minerva murmured.

Prussia was a little more nervous. "P-, Prince Adonis!"

Adonis blinked at all three of them.

"Hey, did we... did I win?"

Nobody answered.

"...Oh. Right."

He smiled weakly.

"Never mind. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I just feel strange. And there’s something heavy on my—"

Something warm was lying on his chest.

Adonis looked down. Then he lifted the blanket by one corner. Then he put it back down very, very carefully.

’Okay. Okay. First of all, I have no clothes on.’

’Second...’

Messy black hair was spread across his bare chest. A pair of small shoulders rose and fell under the covers, which someone had tucked right up to her chin. Alpis was sound asleep on top of him, curled up like a cat on a warm stone with her cheek pressed against his heart.

She was also not wearing anything.

"A-, Alpis?!"

Prussia smiled at him, seeing him lively again was all that really mattered to her.

"It’s not what it looks like. Queen Minerva took care of your wounds, she had to cut away your clothes to reach them. Alpis has been using dragon rejuvenation techniques. Skin to skin contact allows her mana to flow into you. It’s the fastest way to restore a body that’s been emptied. She hasn’t left your side since the first night. She wouldn’t eat or let anyone move her."

Adonis stared at the black-haired head on his chest.

Prussia still had more to say.

"She may seem ignorant most of the time. She doesn’t get much about humans. But she was worried about you. I think... maybe even more than the rest of us."

Alpis mumbled something in her sleep.

"...Mas... ter... more meat..."

The room was silent.

Then Adonis chuckled softly. Slowly, he lifted one hand from beneath the blanket and laid it on her head. Her hair was warm and a little tangled. He patted it gently and smiled.

...

It wasn’t peaceful in the throne room.

"This is bad. Very bad!"

King Aldrius paced around feverishly.

"Bad, Your Majesty?"

Grand Chamberlain Hershant asked mildly.

"The duel was a great success. The nobles were impressed. The people are celebrating."

"The people, THEM! Can’t you see it, Hershant? Don’t you see what’s happening?"

"Forgive this old man. I seem to be blind."

"Godfrey is a devout believer of the Melcian Faith! The Church! The same Church that’s stood against the royal family and nobles for years! They’ve called us sinners from the pulpit and called my marriages an abomination. And now their golden boy stands at the top of succession in front of the whole kingdom, he has the commoners weeping at his feet!"

He stabbed a finger toward the window.

"They will use this. It is obvious. It is the perfect chance to come for the throne!"

"Hmm..." Hershant said.

"Do you not find the timing strange? It’s too convenient!"

Aldrius dragged both hands down his face.

"The Pope arrives in my capital. Out of nowhere, he returns the Church’s holy sword in the very same week that Godfrey wins the duel. And then my son, who was lying half-dead on the sand, gets up completely healed! There are people in the streets saying it was the sword. That the Church returned it, and the gods rewarded the First Prince for it!"

"Rumors, Your Majesty."

"That’s how coups begin!"

Hershant stroked his thin white beard.

"If that is what you fear, then perhaps it would be wise to know more. I’ll go to the Church myself. Make a few inquiries. See what their intentions are."

Aldrius stopped pacing.

"...Yes. Yes, do that. But— M-, Make sure no one sees you. Not a servant nor a priest. If the Church learns I sent my chamberlain to spy on them, we are finished."

Hershant bowed deeply.

"As you command."

He turned and walked out of the throne room.

...

The Azapita Mountains were cold in the evening.

The narrow pass was the same one as always, a gash in the rock between two tall cliffs where the wind howled and no one came. At the far end of it stood a white pegasus, and beside it, an old man in purple and gold robes.

Pope Verdigris was chuckling.

"I saw it, you know. Oh, it was beautiful, Hershant."

"I was there as well, I stood next to the King and shouted the words you gave me."

"And you were wonderful."

Verdigris clapped his hands together softly, delighted.

"The plan worked perfectly, from start to finish. The boy has his place at the top now, and the people love him. Which means we can finally proceed to the next phase."

He looked up at the red sky above the mountains.

"The new world we’ve worked for, for centuries. It is almost near fruition."

"It is..." Hershant agreed quietly.

For a moment, the old men said nothing.

"And what about the other boy? Adonis?"

"Asleep, last I heard. When he wakes up, the reality that he’s lost the throne forever will sink in and the shock will break him. I’m certain he’ll lose track of his goal."

"Mm." Verdigris tilted his head. "That’s fine. For now."

"For now?"

"He shouldn’t be too down, Hershant. The boy is very essential to our plans, after all."

"..."

Hershant said nothing.

━ ━ ━ ━

End of Volume 1