Chapter 2

– Twang! Twang! Twang!

“…….”

Plucking the lyre.

The heart of the empire, plunged into darkness as the sun fell, was eerily quiet.

A dense population.

Proof of this lay in the densely packed residential zones.

Even a small cry within would quickly stretch to the other side.

Thus, carelessly plucking instrument strings like this would surely invite attention from somewhere—whether it be a report or the curiosity of many strangers. It was as clear as fire.

But even within the downtown area, there are shelters and parks.

Taking a spot within a park, using trees as cover to conceal oneself—it wasn’t that difficult.

“Is this level of sound okay?”

I ask the empty air, and an appropriate response comes back.

An inaudible voice to most ears, but a signal nonetheless.

Faintly, I understand.

“Hmph.”

Deep breath.

Maintaining composure is crucial.

If you can’t steady your mind, the solar plexus tightens immediately, cutting off your breath.

The body quickly soaks in fatigue, and the spirit becomes murky instantly.

It’s no big deal if mere focus slips and the mind gets cluttered.

The worst part? When consciousness plunges into the abyss of despair.

Once negative thoughts take hold, they spread endlessly without beginning or end.

“Hmph!”

I pluck the string.

There’s no intention to play anything specific yet.

Not yet.

Just repeatedly plucking one string with consistent force… until gradually, even the awareness of being absorbed in something fades, and I forget myself in the moment.

Only then do I begin playing a familiar tune.

The sound doesn’t spread.

Precautions have been taken to ensure the music doesn’t travel far.

It’s not magic.

I lack talent for that kind of thing anyway.

“…….”

And so, while continuing to play with an empty mind, before long the pitch-black sky slowly begins to brighten.

The clusters of stars fade away, and even the radiant full moon gradually disappears.

“…Looks like sleep is out of the question again.”

Despite knowing I’ll regret it, sleep won’t come.

Rather, I can’t fall asleep.

Because tomorrow comes.

The fear of the new day approaching.

Another day starting anew.

All of it feels like a curse, like a noose tightening around my flesh.

Moreover, today is the day of the celebration party at the imperial palace.

As the child of the hero and the holy maiden, it’s not a place I can easily skip—even if I wanted to.

Unless there’s some plausible excuse.

‘A noble cause.’

A life entangled in politics since childhood.

In that sense, I consider my life politically ruined.

Like a dead insect pressed between golden pages, or a page scorched by flames where neither words nor pictures remain visible.

That’s my past and present.

“…….”

My fingertips went numb.

But this pain pales in comparison to the reality I must face today… no, right now.

“Why am I living like this?”

With no sense of purpose, a hollow laugh escapes me.

Even that isn’t fully released; I stifle it quietly…

As if… I’m a rat hiding in a hole, cowering like a scared little rodent.

“That’s enough. Thank you.”

The silence devoid of even the chirping of insects breaks, and soon faint ambient noises start piercing my ears.

Slipping silently out of the park, leaping from roof to roof…

I return home quietly.

“Young Master.”

“…….”

The moment I hop over the wall, a man holding a torch approaches as if waiting for me.

“Please moderate your nighttime escapades. You know it’s bad for your reputation.”

“…Noted.”

I respond half-heartedly, climb up the wall, and enter my room through the window.

A space both familiar and stifling already makes my chest tighten, my heart constricting.

‘A prison.’

What kind of prison is this?

So I wait wide-eyed for dawn.

Again, a hellish day begins.

====

“Seat of the nine heroes! The last warrior! Commander of the Empire’s First Knights, leader of the Golden Dragon Knights! The Golden Sword Saint, Ruelde Brendiar! And following him, pillar of the nine heroes! The guiding holy maiden! Ceremony of Radiance! Savior Mother! Hermine Brendiar enters!”

They shine brilliantly.

Black and white.

Clothing closer to a ceremonial robe covering the whole body than a dress.

This white base adorned with gold thread appears modest at first glance but is actually astronomically expensive and tastefully designed—a formal outfit combining elegance and practicality.

Contrasting with this, her jet-black hair braided upward enhances her beauty, which even I, her son, find remarkable.

Even despite her pregnant state, her figure remains regal.

In the grand ballroom, where not a shadow exists amidst the vast expanse of the party hall, her beauty still stands out uniquely.

Every movement she makes is noble and sublime, truly worthy of someone called a holy maiden and mother.

On the other hand.

The man escorting her contrasts sharply in every way.

His refined appearance belies the countless battles he’s endured, looking no older than his early twenties despite being well past thirty.

He too wears formal attire, though their contrast couldn’t be more extreme.

The pure white-haired man beside the pitch-black haired beauty creates a striking juxtaposition.

However, their clothing colors are opposite.

Insisting on wearing knightly formal wear even here must not be entirely his choice.

Perhaps his overly strict mother lectured him endlessly about lacking dignity due to his casual and friendly demeanor, citing decorum and discipline.

Still, dressed neatly, speaking less nonsense, and keeping expressions in check, he cuts a fine figure.

Watching them from afar, they seem almost otherworldly.

“What a picturesque pair they make.”

“They always look younger each time I see them. Truly enviable.”

“Yes, indeed. Most admirable.”

“Well, at least their farming of children…”

“Cough! There are plenty of ears listening….”

“My goodness! What a vulgar mistake!”

That’s right.

Unable to criticize the couple directly, they turn their claws on me instead.

If my parents were here, they’ve likely heard such comments more than enough.

They’re that formidable.

But I don’t care.

Getting involved individually might sweep away half the nobility.

Responding to such low-level criticism?

That’d be absurd.

…Unworthy of the great hero’s dignity and class.

“But good news will surely arrive soon, won’t it?”

“A rightful heir to the two of them may appear.”

“Surely this child to be born will match the nobility and prestige of its parents, a truly virtuous child, wouldn’t you say?”

Such talk sticks in the ears strangely well.

“…….”

From a corner where I try to stay out of their sight, I retreat toward the terrace.

I aim to pass the time appropriately, leave after making a brief appearance, avoiding any foolishness that could lead to disdain for not properly greeting anyone.

If I hadn’t shown up at all, it might’ve been different, but having stepped inside, basic etiquette must be observed.

“There you are.”

Indeed?

Turning slightly, an impressive red-haired girl reveals herself.

Her dazzling appearance adorned in a crimson dress and luxurious jewelry shines brightly, radiating the peak vitality of youth as both a woman and a young girl.

But.

…To me, this brilliant red symbolizes another curse.

“Long time no see, Your Highness.”

Suppressing the urge to sigh, I bow politely.

“I saw you yesterday at the academy. Calling it ‘long time’ seems somewhat misleading.”

“…….”

We did meet near the grade announcement board yesterday.

She insists on pointing that out, huh.

Her sharp blue eyes pierce through me coldly.

Yet, they feel more like a hawk spotting weaknesses, unnervingly fierce.

No, she harbors no hostility or malice.

It’s just her presence alone that emits overwhelming pressure.

Caught in it, feeling inferior, eventually reaching a point where I can’t even feel envy anymore—I merely dwell on my own powerlessness.

“Being 10th in the entire school, I suppose that shows improvement.”

“…You flatter me.”

“But it will harm the illustrious reputations of Sir Warrior Ruelde and Lady Holy Maiden Hermine, given you’re their son.”

“…….”

Given.

Soon, that won’t apply anymore.

I eagerly await that moment.

“To become second in the class, even if not first, should be achievable for someone like you. Why don’t you showcase your talents?”

This… insane girl.

Dozens of curses erupted inside me, but what else is new?

I calmly responded while inwardly grinding away at the metallic screech I hear from nowhere.

“As long as I’m below you, does it matter, is that what you’re saying?”

“…….”

This human in front of me monopolizes all the world’s blessings—a true prodigy.

An unparalleled existence.

Outstanding in every field, she proclaims the legacy of the Hero Emperor to the entire world.

And this person in front of me too…

…is also a descendant of two heroes, just like Carriel.

“You could beat me if you had the skill.”

Truly arrogant words.

“…Shouldn’t you say that to those chasing your tail instead?”

And besides.

Apart from her and me…

There are quite a few descendants of heroes.

I’m the worst among them.

If only it were just her I compared myself to…

…I wouldn’t be treated like such a tramp.

She’s unbeatable.

At one point, I briefly thought I wanted to become like her, but…

We were born differently.

Our status, our innate talents.

The expectations placed upon us.

Even trivial interest differs.

“…Hmph.”

For a moment, I thought it came from me, but it was a small sigh.

An attitude rarely seen from her usually composed self.

Only then did I notice her face more closely.

“Carriel, you look terribly exhausted.”

“…….”

“Word has reached me indirectly about your wandering around at night.”

How did this reach her ears?

Does this mean most people already know?

“Take care of your body. As a man, you shouldn’t recklessly indulge yourself.”

“…….”

What nonsense is this?

Ah, so she interprets it this way?

So…

I’m one of those reckless playboys indulging in nightlife, right?

“What does that have to do with you, Your Highness?”

“Carriel. In the future, you’ll become a pillar of our empire. Though you seem to be wandering now, time will resolve that.”

….

Who says so?

What exactly will time resolve?

“Young hotheadedness is fleeting. Like flower petals carried by flowing water, it leaves only a lingering impression.”

“…….”

“Isn’t cultivating beautiful memories a noble gift we can give our future selves?”

“…Listening to you, one might think there’s a decade or so age gap between us?”

This is someone my age, and this is someone who shares the same lineage of heroes and warriors.

Is the royal bloodline really this different?

Or is it just that I inherited inferior seeds and blood?

“Carriel. You truly…”

Then, the ballroom starts getting noisy.

“…Hmph. Let’s stop here.”

Small talk.

This counts as small talk? Ridiculous.

“Follow me. While I agree wholeheartedly with leaving this place, we must at least greet His Majesty, correct?”

“…Would I refuse?”

Helping her exit faster—why would I object?

I calmly followed behind her.

And thus,

I was driven forward under the gazes of people I’d rather not meet.

‘What rotten luck.’

I wanted to shred my naive brain that thought I could escape quickly.

There they were.

Just like the princess,

Descendants of heroes whose exceptional talents echo across the land.

“Ah, there you are, Carriel. Come over here. It’s been quite a while since we last saw your face!”

Also.

A dazzling beauty that overshadows even the lavish golden attire.

The smooth, sculpted red-haired blue-eyed man and the black-eyed teal-haired woman standing beside him.

“It’s truly been too long since we last asked you to visit often.”

The Hero Emperor and the Mage Empress.

The man who became emperor from a hero.

The woman who became empress as a great mage.

Along with my parents and the other nine heroes affiliated with the empire.

‘I’m trapped.’

My stomach churns.

In my head, the irritating metallic screech grows louder, scratching against my thoughts.

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