#50
A small, round blade is more deadly because it cannot be seen.
He always hid his blade behind a smile.
‘And Prince Ersen, Your Highness. You don’t consider me threatening either.’
That was certainty.
There were no traces of wariness in his words, actions, or gaze.
Just someone who called him ‘fairy-nim’ and smiled.
Sercil opened the door and entered while watching the two people inside.
When opening the door, he did so quietly, entering slowly from his toes as if reading the air in the room.
He even paid attention to the angle of turning the doorknob to minimize the sound of the door closing.
And with half-sincere concern, he looked toward Ersen and murmured worriedly.
His tone was somehow hazy, with emotions spread out while being suppressed.
He was moving thoroughly as a ‘harmless attendant.’
“I brought a new wet towel. How are you feeling, Your Highness?”
His tone was gentle, and his gaze was cast low.
“The pain seems to be somewhat less.”
The Archduke’s voice was still low and cautious.
“That’s fortunate. Though the poison is still worrying.”
Sercil took a small breath and carefully approached the bedside.
With each step, he erased his footsteps and controlled his strength so that mana wouldn’t leak from the towel in his hand.
As he approached and replied glumly, the Archduke’s gaze belatedly turned toward Sercil.
That gaze was precise and contained subtle hostility.
Sercil slightly lowered his head and avoided eye contact.
He was the only one among the imperial trio who hadn’t opened his heart to Sercil. So in front of him, he had to wear his mask even better.
Skyle Rodias.
He was smart, sensitive, and cold.
In front of him, even the smallest wavering wasn’t allowed.
The Archduke answered kindly on the surface.
Raising the corners of his mouth just slightly, the grain of his words was neat.
“The poison seems to have been neutralized.”
Sercil’s eyes widened.
“Aha!”
A light exclamation of joy.
It was a well-trained voice of happiness.
Sercil let out a sigh of relief.
His chest slowly settled, and the sound of his breath releasing came out very quietly.
“That’s really fortunate. Phew. Who on earth would do such a thing to Your Highness?”
His tone still contained emotion, and concern was young at the end of his words.
If Your Highness.
If Your Highness’s end comes about because of me.
That sentence slowly rose in his mind.
‘Honestly, I don’t think I’d be happy about it.’
That was the real emotion Sercil felt.
But he wouldn’t apologize either.
Because you’re probably indeed the child of my enemy.
Still, there was no regret.
The choice had already been finished long ago.
However, for all that, Sercil’s eyes held sincere concern.
* * *
‘Haha, well now.’
Marcus slightly raised his eyebrows and laughed shamelessly.
Though the corners of his mouth went up, his eyes weren’t smiling at all.
That characteristic half-mocking expression was familiar among those who knew him—but this time it was a bit more dry.
Marcus looked at the ballroom with a slight sneer.
The central hall of the ballroom was still glittering.
The chandelier still sparkled from the ceiling, and the string instrument melodies continued without rest.
But all those decorations and music now functioned as nothing more than background.
The commotion in the ballroom wasn’t subsiding.
The nobles instinctively murmured and whispered in low voices.
No one spoke loudly, but those sounds circled the entirety like vibrations drumming on the ceiling.
Gazes moved, and lips went back and forth endlessly.
From the moment Second Prince Ersen exited vomiting blood, all sorts of speculation and rumors boiled among the nobles.
Those who witnessed it directly, those who heard rumors, all were equally excited.
The Prince’s blood was regarded like a rupture of sanctity, and such a shocking scene briefly silenced everyone’s mouths before immediately gripping them tight.
“They said he was cursed, and it seems to be true.”
A noble lady whispered so.
Her lips were hidden behind the hand holding her glass, and though her voice was low, it was clear.
“He had that kind of aura from the beginning. Should I say it was an eerie feeling?”
Those gathered around carefully nodded their heads.
It was a reaction where you couldn’t distinguish whether it was agreement or appropriate acknowledgment.
Though their tone pretended to be cautious, their gazes and expressions were mixed with mockery, contempt, and fear.
Some glanced sideways, some covered their mouths and laughed.
A few had truly shocked faces, but compassion was hard to find among them.
“But since he couldn’t have cursed himself, that might be……”
Anxiety spread across the lips of the noble who hesitated without finishing the sentence.
That hesitation was rather more stimulating.
Such whispers spread quickly.
Like sparks—instantly, quietly, widely.
It seemed as if the entire grand ceremonial hall was swept up by low waves.
Everyone pretended to be expressionless on the surface, but neither the ceremony’s splendor nor the music’s melody had meaning for them anymore.
They still held glasses in their hands and imitated the form of conversation, but all their gazes were directed in one direction.
Toward the door, that threshold where the Crown Prince and Prince who had exited disappeared.
“Could it be that His Highness the Second Prince was also cast out by the half-demons?”
Those words flowed out carefully.
But the content was far from careful.
“Ahem, ahem. Shouldn’t we not say such things carelessly?”
The eyes of the one who half-heartedly dissuaded while clearing his throat were already half-laughing.
Interest preceded caution.
“But His Highness the Crown Prince also exited……”
The rest of those words remained as if everyone knew without needing to say them.
Marcus stopped while passing by the side of one such group of nobles.
The sound of his shoes was quiet, but his presence was clear.
Several nobles simultaneously flinched and turned their gazes to the side.
And he said with a grin.
Marcus’s face, slowly raising the corners of his mouth, showed his characteristic mischievous expression.
But those eyes weren’t smiling at all.
Rather, his slightly raised eyes were cold.
“If it’s something you can’t say when His Highness the Crown Prince is present, wouldn’t it be better to just not say it?”
The air itself flinched at those words.
The nobles’ expressions rapidly hardened.
Those who were laughing closed their mouths, and those who were making eye contact turned their heads.
Though his tone was gentle, his gaze was not at all so. The nobles flinched at his meddling, with widespread rumors calling him a scoundrel.
The weight his name carried wasn’t simply due to career or family.
There were records of what he had personally wielded, and rumors were widely spread that his eloquence and hands worked together without hesitation at noble banquets.
Some coughed and slipped away.
They brought glasses to their mouths, or pretended to turn the conversation to the person next to them, quietly disappearing from that spot.
Marcus’s eyes precisely followed each one of them.
Such commotion continued for some time. Though wherever Marcus approached became calm.
He didn’t particularly push people or raise his voice.
Just with his presence alone, the surroundings became quiet.
Like a soldier who disarms without holding a sword in hand.
‘I’ve really been stuck cleaning up the mess?’
Marcus muttered inwardly while lightly placing one hand on his waist.
The epicenter of this incident had already disappeared without a trace, and what remained was only cleaning up its wreckage.
Kyle was nowhere to be seen from some point on.
His eyes indifferently swept the venue.
The space emptied of familiar faces looked strangely large.
Marcus glanced sideways toward the door where the people he knew had disappeared.
The door was already closed, but the lingering presence of those who had gone through there could still be felt.
A feeling remained as if the air was shaking differently.
And he recalled what had just happened.
That scene remained too vividly.
When Ersen collapsed vomiting blood while being held in the Crown Prince’s arms, people’s gazes were filled with shock and fear. However, the first thought Marcus had was completely different.
When people frowned and murmured, he quietly lowered his head.
Far from being surprised, his gaze was like watching a secret he had known for a long time become reality.
‘That, I knew it would be like that.’
That was intuition.
Without suspicion or compassion, just calm acceptance.
He had perhaps been in a state where such a situation wasn’t surprising since he speculated that Ersen might have been raised as a shadow.
He had been observing the existence called Ersen for a long time already, and he also knew that he wasn’t ordinary.
When he caught his breath and turned his gaze again, there was no wavering on Marcus’s face.
Whether Ersen threw his body to catch half-demons, that wasn’t something that would surprise him.
Marcus thought so while keeping his mouth firmly shut and tilting his glass diagonally.
The liquid remaining in the glass shook lightly and flowed quietly along the glass wall, and he looked down at it for a moment.
Though his pupils were still directed there, his focus seemed to be looking somewhere in the past.
The person called Ersen.
He was an existence who ‘seemed like he would’ from the beginning.
Though he bore the name of Prince, he often showed the appearance of an animal that survived alone rather than traces of growing up under someone’s care.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
