368-1. Hamlet Oldenburg Side Story

Ophelia has left.

Hamlet inhaled deeply, swallowing the cloud of dust that arose from the wagon wheels.

The scorching heat of last night, the love, stabbed at his insides like jagged ice shards. “Don’t go. I’m actually of noble birth.” But he couldn’t say it.

Leaving his self-blame behind, Hamlet returned home to the mansion. His father did not chide him for staying out late.

His son had to carry out weighty tasks for the family.

Before the wounds of heartbreak could fully flare up, Hamlet departed from Oldenburg, heading in the exact opposite direction of where Ophelia had gone.

“Did you say Marquis Benard Tatian?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“What kind of person is he?”

It was a question posed to the steward sent from the Tatian family. Despite the jolting of the carriage, the steward maintained an upright posture with ease.

“He is a kind and lovely young lord. He is the same age as Prince Hamlet Oldenburg.”

“Thank goodness he’s a kind person. He asked me to be his friend, but do you think I can manage it?”

The steward kindly reassured him. Of course, he could do well. Since he loved books, he recommended a few to read on the way. However,

“Friend? Hahaha! Is this the work of my second older brother?”

“Yes, yes. Young Lord… Ah, no, Lord Marquis.”

When we arrived, the Tatian household was in turmoil.

The first and second sons were sprawled out like minced meat, fighting over the heir seat, and it was news of the Marquis’s death from a carriage accident.

The steward turned pale and stuttered about the news. The third young lord, who was supposed to be kind and lovely, was nowhere to be found.

Only a boy with cold blue eyes remained. The Marquis Tatian watched me intently and said,

“A friend… Hahaha. Well, I suppose I should accept my second brother’s goodwill. But for now, I’m tired, so you may leave.”

I politely bowed and stepped away. I couldn’t help but think as I looked at the still stiff steward.

If only I had arrived just a day earlier, I might have died. That one night with Ophelia was what saved me. Thus concluded my first meeting with Marquis Tatian.

*

Of course, Marquis Benard Tatian didn’t need a friend.

But I wasn’t sent back to Oldenburg because the Marquis thought I was special; it was simply because he forgot about me.

I wished someone would ask about me. But no one could possibly make such trivial inquiries to the Marquis, who seized power through fatigue.

The household staff and handmaidens were in flux, and I was assigned a small guest room, spending three years in neglect.

I was left in the enormous Tatian mansion.

Because the routes for the use of servants and guests were predetermined, I could have been left there even longer, but the steward who brought me managed to become a Grand Officer and mentioned me.

When I met Marquis Benard Tatian again after three years, he was much softer than when we first met.

It was probably because he got married. The Grand Officer must have seized that chance to mention me.

Marquis Tatian said,

“Hamlet Oldenburg.”

“Yes.”

“I hear your swordsmanship is quite good. There’s something I need you to do.”

“Command me.”

He looked at me quietly, squinting his eyes as he questioned.

“Will you not ask for a reward?”

There was a reason why the Marquis inquired this way.

It was clear I was of a lower status to him, but I was still a noble.

Yet such recognition had greatly dulled during my stay here. Like my father, our Oldenburg family was merely a house under the Tatian lineage, ruling as a vassal.

I understood my position and answered readily. I would gladly accept any reward he offered, so he could command me freely. Marquis Tatian smiled gently.

“In a few weeks, there will be an entrance exam for the Royal Guard. I want you to take it.”

“I will do so.”

“Good. You may leave now.”

I didn’t ask why. The Marquis did not elaborate either.

A few weeks later, I became a Royal Knight on my own merits. After that, I could not meet Marquis Tatian again.

*

One year into Caroman de Tatalia’s reign.

As a Royal Knight, I initially had very breathless days.

It was not just because serving high-class royalty was a burden but also due to the tasks that Benard Tatian had assigned to me.

He wanted me to monitor activities within the royal palace, especially the king’s actions.

/ King Caroman de Tatalia has obtained a blacksmith. He has changed the crown to one that looks exactly the same. /

/ The king used the royal secret passage at night. It appears he took the northern route, but I do not know where he went. /

All I had to do was write down the content in code and send it mixed with laundry.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had been recruited. As time passed, the job became so easy that I could yawn.

Most of the court servants were filled with people from the Tatian household. The king, at some point, began to shut himself away and stopped being active, and my tasks dwindled as well.

On the contrary, Princess Chloe de Tatalia’s activities increased, but it seemed Marquis Tatian had little interest in the young princess, as he did not provide any notable support.

I too didn’t bother prying.

Was this how it ended? I had gradually risen to the position of Commander of the Royal Guard.

As I took on the position, the Royal Guard of the royal family was increasingly filled with knights under the influence of Marquis Tatian, and now there seemed to be no place in the royal palace where one could escape the Marquis’s gaze.

Only this desk drawer of mine, as Commander Hamlet Oldenburg, appeared to be safe from the Marquis’s scrutiny.

I pulled on the drawer handle, avoiding the gaze of the Administrative Knight in front of me.

Inside was a single letter, covered in a thick layer of dust.

Ophelia.

It was a letter written long ago.

I wrote it while staying at the Tatian mansion, erasing and rewriting it repeatedly, still unsent.

I should have been married. To anyone.

Three years of neglect at the Marquis’s house was too long, and I missed the age of marriage.

Even if that hadn’t happened, I had no desire to meet anyone back then. In fact, I still don’t.

I wonder if she’s doing well.

Does she ever think of me?

Is my inability to forget her a despicable foolishness?

I put the letter back in the drawer, one I would never send, and stood up.

“It’s time for you to go home too.”

“Yes. Please go ahead. I’ll finish this up and head back.”

The Administrative Knight was checking the entourage of Prince Lean de Yeriel, which would soon arrive in Orville. It would come through paperwork before long.

I nodded and left the office. I intended to head straight home, but then I remembered something I heard this morning.

“Didn’t they say Ellen’s exhibition was opening again? I wonder if I can get a painting this year.”

There was an artist who had burst onto the scene like a comet last year and amazed Orville.

He drew many pictures that seemed to pull memories of childhood right from the air, particularly those of a woman and child who appeared to be a lady.

When looking at his paintings, it felt as if I were reuniting with Ophelia, so last year I frequented the exhibition hall every day.

Unfortunately, the paintings were too expensive, and even the wealth of the Commander of the Royal Guard couldn’t afford a single piece. I was determined to acquire one this year…

“…Hamlet.”

“Ophelia.”

I beheld an apparition. Surely that must be an illusion.

Ophelia stood far across the exhibition hall.

Instead of her youthful vibrance, she now had an elegant demeanor. With nostalgia that was no different from the day she left.

The apparition approached me and smiled brightly. When I grasped her hand, I finally realized she was not an illusion.

“Ophelia!”

“Hamlet. It’s been a while. Have you… been well?”

If we met, if I had the chance to meet her, there was something I wanted to say.

But those words vanished uselessly from my tongue, and all that managed to escape my lips was this.

“Have you become a priest?” I was deceived by her beautifully dressed casual clothes, half-showing my true feelings.

Ophelia smiled sadly and nodded.

After that, I couldn’t remember what I said. I think I foolishly said congratulations.