“I don’t know anything.”
“…….”
“Of course, I know it was my fault for leaving something like that behind. But I really didn’t think it’d turn out like this….”
“Shut up.”
His temples throbbed with an already pounding headache. He shoved aside his younger brother, who was dramatically gesturing and acting like some grieving stage actor. He’d thought he could get away with it by buying a new one, but then he fell sick the next day and completely missed the chance to replace the rotor.
“I mean… it’s okay. You two are lovers, right? I think stuff like that can happen.”
“For the love of—please, shut up.”
Everyone knew about Banteon and Delroz’s relationship. But that didn’t mean he wanted his little brother to see that. Especially not when it involved catching a cold from playing around with a toy and fooling around in the bathtub until the water turned cold. That was even worse.
“Here. Medicine.”
As Banteon opened his mouth, Delroz’s spoon slipped in naturally. Like feeding a baby bird, Delroz patiently helped him take the medicine, and Banteon accepted it with equal ease. Baiheron’s jaw dropped at the sight. He looked back and forth between the two of them with a stupid expression, then slapped both his cheeks with his hands. The loud smacking sound drew Banteon’s attention.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. As long as you’re not aware of it, it’s fine.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Completely unaware that he was engaging in public displays of affection, Banteon calmly wrapped the warm towel Delroz handed him around his neck. An SS-Rank Esper, idolized by every other Esper, tending to someone so dutifully—it was surreal. Baiheron blinked again. He knew his older brother was amazing, but this was on a whole different level.
“What?”
Why was he getting stared at like that? As Banteon gave him a questioning look, Baiheron raised a thumb with a smooth flick. Banteon’s brows furrowed even deeper at the inexplicable gesture.
“It’s nothing. I was just… admiring you a little.”
Baiheron scratched the back of his neck with an awkward smile.
“Honestly, I came home partly because of the talk about changing my affiliation, but there’s something more important. You’re attending the banquet this time, right?”
“We’ll see. After what happened last time, would they really invite me again?”
Banteon had used his illness as a reason to refuse every royal banquet so far. He’d been stacking all the invitations in one place in his study—and unfortunately, Delroz had discovered them.
Delroz, who had gone to a banquet alone without even telling Banteon, ended up half-destroying the venue with a warning: if they ever tried to bother Banteon again, it wouldn’t be fun. And then he’d returned home, sticking his head forward asking for praise like some overgrown dog. Banteon had been utterly dumbfounded.
Given that Delroz had previously trashed the Center Director’s office, destroying half a banquet hall probably hadn’t been that difficult. But the royal palace wasn’t the same as the Center—the weight of it was different. Banteon had spent a long time trying to figure out how to explain that difference… and gave up. No matter what he said, Delroz wouldn’t listen.
This time, the banquet was being held in the newly reconstructed main hall of the palace—essentially rebuilt because Delroz had wrecked it.
“Which means they’ll definitely invite you. Just to keep Delroz from being seen.”
“How would they invite only me? Delroz has been screening all the incoming mail lately. Secretly… So that’s why they sent you.”
Even couriers were too intimidated by Delroz to deliver messages properly, and every piece of mail was now under surveillance. That’s why they’d sent a new errand boy—someone who could stand up to Delroz and still deliver the message clearly.
“You’re already doing this kind of work even though you haven’t officially joined the Royal Court yet?”
“Hahaha. I just thought I’d drop by and see my dear brother’s face while I was at it. I meant to bring it up yesterday, but missed the right moment somehow.”
“Tch.”
He knew Baiheron was headed to the Royal Court eventually, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Clicking his tongue and crossing his legs, Banteon watched Baiheron beam at him even more cheerfully.
“So, will you come?”
“I was planning to go at least once.”
Delroz hadn’t declared his affiliation yet. Though he stayed with the Esrante family, he wasn’t officially tied to them. He hadn’t completed Center training, but he wasn’t a student either.
Those who knew Delroz well could guess what choice he’d make. But to outsiders, it still looked like there was room for change. The Royal Court certainly believed so.
“They’ve been eyeing a nice estate and property to offer. Probably planning to throw in a small fortune too.”
“Not interested.”
Delroz, who had been silently listening, replied with a voice dripping with irritation. If he’d cared about material things, he wouldn’t have ignored all the countless offers he’d received until now. Delroz only wanted one thing—to live a peaceful life by the side of the Guide he chose, and leave this world together with him. For those unaware of that desire, their constant scheming was nothing more than a swarm of bothersome flies.
“Just tell them I don’t want any of it.”
“Well, even if you’re going to turn them down, do it at the banquet. Otherwise, they’re just going to keep bothering you.”
“They’re already plenty bothersome.”
Banteon reached out and lightly brushed Delroz’s arm, his brows relaxing little by little. Baiheron turned his head away like he’d just witnessed something he shouldn’t have seen.
“I was going to bring this up yesterday too, but—there’s a condition.”
“What kind of condition?”
“In exchange for sending Baiheron Esrante, an S-Rank Esper from the Esrante family, and one of only two direct heirs…”
When Banteon called him by his full name, Baiheron stiffened and listened carefully.
“The next king must be the Third Prince.”
“Umm….”
“We’re not foolish enough to hand over Esrante’s most valuable asset to someone who won’t even become king.”
It was an offer that his love-struck younger brother, who’d likely bolt for the royal family without thinking twice, wouldn’t even dream of making—but as the head of the household, Banteon had to secure what was due in return. Baiheron scowled at the bold demand.
“Ugh… it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. Honestly, if I make the switch, I could become the next king.”
“Not thoughts. You need certainty.”
“…I figured you’d say that.”
Sighing, Baiheron scratched his head and rummaged through the bag he’d brought. Banteon, recalling what had come out of that bag yesterday, instinctively frowned—though he tried to hide it.
This time, what came out was a perfectly intact envelope. He sliced it open with a paper knife and pulled out a single thin sheet.
“He told me to give this to you if you brought up something like that.”
“From the Third Prince?”
“Yeah.”
Baiheron shook his head, saying he didn’t care for politics or power struggles and couldn’t understand either the people who anticipated such a move or those who reacted just as predicted.
“He’s a wise man, after all.”
He must have had a good idea what kind of proposal Banteon would make. And indeed, the letter said exactly what he expected.
The opening lines stated that though his humble origins once kept him from even dreaming of it, he now stood beside Baiheron and looked to the throne. With Baiheron already set to join the royal family, all that remained was the Third Prince’s resolve—if it held firm, ascending to the throne wouldn’t be difficult. And since the most crucial party had already confirmed his intent, Banteon’s condition was effectively already met.
“Hmm….”
“What does it say?”
“So you really didn’t know the contents.”
“Yeah, I hate all that headache-inducing stuff. I’m just the messenger, that’s all.”
Banteon folded the letter, careful not to let anyone else see its contents.
“Then go ahead and deliver this message: I accept all terms.”
There was no need to leave a paper trail of this private agreement. Baiheron nodded and stood up.
“Alright, that settles that. Now, about the banquet?”
“Still too soon.”
“If that’s your stance, then there’s nothing I can do.”
With the Third Prince’s letter now answered, Baiheron stretched with a refreshed sigh, as if his job was done.
“You’re a pretty unreliable errand boy.”
“The person who tasked me with the banquet invitation was His Majesty. But the one who gave me the letter… is our lovely, beautiful, and amazing partner. So obviously I had to prioritize.”
Baiheron hummed a cheerful tune as he left the room, completely unfazed by the seditious-sounding words that could have landed him in prison for lese-majesty. Banteon sat quietly at his desk, staring blankly into space. After a moment, Delroz, still by his side, asked belatedly,
“What did the letter say?”
“Mm… just that he wants to rise to the throne with Baiheron. He asked for permission to take Baiheron into the royal family—something along those lines.”
“That can’t be all.”
Banteon’s tone was contemplative, as if something still weighed on his mind.
“That’s all the letter said. I just have other things to think about.”
He pressed a light kiss to Delroz’s cheek, brushing it with a soft smack. The warmth of it lingered as he smiled and stood.
“I’ll finish up some work before I go. You go rest first.”
“You still have a fever. You overdid it yesterday.”
“…You’re not really in a position to say that, are you?”
A forgotten sense of resentment briefly stirred. Sure, Banteon had offered his body willingly, telling Delroz to do as he pleased—but still, there had to be limits. Of course, Delroz wasn’t exactly human, but that didn’t mean Banteon didn’t feel a little wronged.
He rose, his back still sore.
“I hope our Bante lives happier than anyone else. For Mom, too.”
A voice he missed deeply echoed in his mind. A memory that surfaced out of nowhere, dragging old feelings along with it.
Banteon had always imagined a future for the two of them. A vague, distant plan he kept postponing, slowly piecing together over time. But after reading the Third Prince’s letter today, and hearing Baiheron say he’d found his own path… the thought suddenly struck him:
“Maybe now’s the right time to set that plan in motion.”
Banteon picked up a pen and began filling out the form labeled ‘Application’.
