Chapter Fifty-Seven: Adults and Children (2)
“…I thought it was an offer not even worth hesitating.”
It seems that this nanny did a good job of “raising” the prince, the Duke thought as he withdrew his hand from Edwin’s shoulder with a dissatisfied look.
“Why do you hesitate?”
“It's just...”
Edwin swallowed the rest of it. Although his situation has become a little better, he knows better than anyone that nothing fundamental has changed.
That's why I'm even more confused.
What if something bad happens if he accepts the offer? What if it's worse if he rejects him?
As a child, he didn't know which choice would lead him to a better outcome.
Jerome laughed briefly and said sarcastically: “It seems that Your Highness is one of those who cannot decide for himself.”
"…Sorry?"
Edwin was troubled by the unsteadiness in the tone of the Duke, who had seemed friendly only moments before.
The prince clenched his little fist, and Jerome continued with a sigh: “I do not know what your governess has taught you during this time, but my offer is only out of good faith.”
She said something? Rachel?
Edwin furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean…?"
Jerome nodded as if understanding: “I understand.” As long as you are young, it is natural for you to be influenced by the words of adults around you. But you are a prince. The lion does not listen to the barking of dogs.”
The prince's face darkened at this statement, but the duke continued indifferently:
“Did you know that your nanny was adopted from the Kunti family? She is nothing more than a naive woman who does not know how this world works.”
The Duke insulted the Prince's absent nanny. And before he finished speaking—
A steady voice rose from under his chin: “Duke Crowner.”
Two eyes as blue as the emperor's eyes stared down at him.
“Rachel is not that type. Don't talk about it that way.”
At one point the little prince had raised his head and stared directly into the Duke's eyes, a reflection of his hostility in his eyes.
So then… Jerome's eyelids twitched slightly.
“Prince Edwin…” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and said, “One only orders from a higher position.”
The next moment a suffocating roar of killing intent flooded Edwin's body.
“Heh—!” The prince gasped and lowered his head. Cold sweat ran down his pale face.
“What a pity,” Jerome said indifferently as he pulled out that halo. "I thought Your Highness would understand my point."
Edwin gasped as if he was about to drown.
“I shall take that as a rejection of my offer, then,” continued the Duke. Then he turned towards the training field as if nothing had happened. “The conversation is over. "You can leave now."
Leaving?
Does that mean he shouldn't return to training? Edwin froze with a pained face.
“Why are you standing?” said Jerome, looking him over his shoulder. Aren't you joining the class?
The prince breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to join the knights, but the Duke added: “Ah... and if you are unable to complete today’s training, there is no need for you to return anymore.”
Then he smiled with false kindness as he stared at the prince’s pale face: “Those who withdraw bring nothing but trouble.”
In the blazing glow of noon, the sun was pouring out its fire.
The knights of the third battalion of the Gloria Knights are running, looking behind them from time to time.
One of them said: “Is this really acceptable?”
Another replied: “What do you mean?”
“I mean... he's a prince. Shall we save him like this?
“Leave it. The leader said: Don’t worry about it.”
“However...”
“Yes, he is still a child...”
The knights furrowed their brows as they looked at the third prince, panting behind them, drowned in tears, snot, and sweat.
“Why is he so weak? My little brother is fatter than him.”
“Don't you know? He is called “The Shabby Prince.”
“Shabby? What does that mean?
“That is, he is poor like us.”
Most of the men of the Third Battalion were skilled commoner knights, but they remained in this battalion because they were of low origin.
“Otherwise, how would a prince train with people like us?”
“But what if he falls again? Whatever, forcing a child to do this training of ours...”
“Don't worry. We are dying here too. Who has room for others?
“Hurry up! If the prince catches up with us, we will kill the commander!
"the curse! Why did the day have to turn into hell today?
The knights quickly forgot the prince.
As for Edwin, his misery was no less than theirs - but worse.
Or am I already dead?
His knees are knocking, and the soles of his feet are burning.
He had the idea of escaping more than once, and his mind went to pieces.
Why did the Duke say he would teach me? What happened between him and Rachel?
Then he shook his head: It doesn't matter. I made Sir Jerome angry...and it hurt him. That was bitter. And yet—
I have no regrets.
He could not bear to hear an insult to the people dearest to him.
Rather, what happened left a disappointment in his heart: How could a hero disdain someone dear to others with such lightness?
He muttered: “How foolish I am...”
Then a calm voice came from his side: “As long as you mumble, you have some strength left.”
"Yes!" He shouted in surprise. “C…Sir Philip?”
Coming without a vote was Deputy Commander Philipp Mayer himself.
Edwin glanced at him, then looked at the back of the class, puzzled.
Philip decided, interrupting: “You are pulling your shoulders too much.” Shorten your step.”
Edwin froze.
"Don't wave your arms around in vain," Philip continued. Clench your palms slightly and move them back and forth.”
The prince stared in amazement.
Philip added: “The mountain is not flat land. Put your whole foot in, not just the heel. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth.”
His silver armor sparkled under the leaf-diluted sun.
He concluded: “If you want to continue training, adhere to what I said.”
Edwin straightened his posture as he had been instructed—and suddenly, the running became easier, as if his speed had increased slightly.
"I'll go ahead of you," Philip said shortly as he passed the prince. Then go.
Help me? Edwin asked, staring at his back. did not?
He did not understand, but time was not waiting for him, the knights had moved away. He sped up, stimulated by his breathing, which became calmer.
Twenty climbs and descents to the top of the mountain. Edwin did it amazingly well to the last.
And not only that; Even the “crossing the stream” exercise I fainted at yesterday—I completed it today.
The knights did not show their surprise, but they were upset in their chests; No one expected a young, skinny boy to stand up for knight training.
The prince sat under the shade of a tree, looking at those gathered on the opposite side, exchanging conversations while wiping their sweat.
I want water... he said to himself while suffering from a burning thirst due to intense sweating. But he chose to be patient. His request for water meant that he was speaking to them, and he did not want to burden them.
They will be embarrassed by me.
Emma, his late governess, had always warned him that just being of Imperial blood might upset others.
Suddenly a small bottle appeared before his eyes.
"Yes! Sir Philip...?
Once again, Philipp Mayer silently crept in and sat next to him.
“Water,” he said curtly.
“Ah...thanks.”
The prince took it hesitantly, stared for a while, then opened the lid and drank. It was plain water, but it tasted sweeter than honey.
“Thank you very much,” he said, carefully handing him the waterskin. “I narrated from him.”
Philip asked him coldly as he received the offering: “Is it safe to accept something like this so easily?”
“H-huh?”
“You don’t know what I might have mixed with him,” he added, without changing his expression.