Cassion raked a hand through his hair. His gaze settled on the book Dayson had flung down.
A book full of things Cassion already knew.
Cassion was no fool. In fact, he counted among the very bright. He rarely forgot anything he had seen once, and he understood things quickly.
The book Dayson had brought him like a handout had been memorized long ago.
To stay alive, Cassion had put on a fool’s mask, a meek rabbit’s face. The real fools were Dayson and the queen, who had been taken in by his act.
At first, watching Dayson fall for it had been fun. Now he was simply tired.
“Three years of this already.”
Three years ago, the former queen, Violetta, Cassion’s own mother, had died.
At the time, Cassion had been living outside the palace, because the former queen had been deposed before she gave birth to him.
“Come to the palace.”
At a single word from the king, Cassion had been forced into the palace.
He had held out, refusing to come, but the arrogant King Karman was hardly going to listen to an eight-year-old.
Like a cow dragged to the slaughterhouse, Cassion had been hauled to the royal palace and shut inside it.
Even after entering the palace, he had not hoped for his father’s love. He had only expected a little pity, the kind one feels for an animal that has lost its mother.
But within a week of arriving, even that hope was trampled thoroughly underfoot.
In a single week, Cassion realized that he had been abandoned in the palace.
At such a young age, he had been made to understand a world that turned on power, and the coldness of a father who had cast out his mother.
Still, it has to be better than outside.
The life of a deposed queen had been anything but easy, and the life of a prince born only after that deposition was no easier.
With even his mother, who had been his shield, gone, he might have suffered something worse had he been left alone outside.
Cassion lived on, forcibly clinging to a faint hope.
But that hope, and any positive thought, faded little by little.
The loneliness of his situation kept gnawing away at him.
To go on living, Cassion learned to live like a plant. Quietly, motionlessly, doing nothing but breathing.
Then one day, while he was living holding his breath in the royal palace, Dayson came to see him.
His half-brother, born of a lady-in-waiting’s body back when Violetta was queen: the First Prince, Dayson.
Violetta, who had not been able to bear a child until Dayson was born, had been driven out of the palace because of his birth.
So from Cassion’s point of view, Dayson was someone he loathed down to the bone.
Yet Cassion could neither fight Dayson nor push him away when he approached.
Behind Dayson stood Julia, the current queen.
She insisted that Dayson was the rightful and only heir to the throne. Most of the court officials agreed with her.
If I lash out, it will only be a dog’s death.
Remembering his mother’s dying wish that he survive somehow, Cassion had groveled flat before Dayson.
Dayson liked Cassion’s frail, simple-minded act. He would assign him tasks, and when Cassion failed, he would pretend to comfort him while showing off his own skill, grinding Cassion’s pride underfoot.
Three full years had passed with Cassion enduring it.
“Bastard.”
Cassion’s insides were so full of rage that a mere flick of a finger would have set the curses spilling out. At times the anger left him dizzy.
“I won’t let him get away with it. I’ll make sure even Helba, goddess of justice and destruction, can’t save him.”
Quite vicious words poured out. Killing intent rippled around Cassion.
Cassion thought.
Should I put poison in what Dayson drinks?
Among the weeds that had grown wild for lack of any garden upkeep, there were poisonous plants mixed in.
If he set his mind to it, making poison would be nothing.
I made this for you, Brother.
If he offered it with a servile smile and a bow, surely Dayson would take at least a sip. And if he could only look down at Dayson collapsed on the floor, twitching…
“No matter what happens, survive. Live, and be happy for my share too, Cassion.”
But his mother’s last words held him back once more. Cassion gave up the sloppy revenge plan and let his shoulders droop.
He was so exhausted that he did not even have the strength to keep his eyes open. Cassion quietly closed his eyelids.
Just then, there was the sound of a door creaking open.
…Don’t tell me Dayson has come back?
He had already used up the day’s patience.
Rubbing his throbbing temples, Cassion lifted his head.
And he was startled by an unfamiliar figure.
“Hello, Your Highness Cassion!”
It was a bright, cheerful greeting.
The person who had opened the door had a face he did not remember.
A pretty girl with blond hair and green eyes. A woman with brown hair tied up high stood beside her, but to Cassion’s eyes only the blond girl existed.
“What a lovely room! May I sit here?”
Cassion blinked slowly, trying to recall whether he had ever met this green-eyed child.
No matter how hard he dug through his memory, it was a face he was seeing for the first time. While Cassion studied the girl, she looked around his bedroom as comfortably as if it were her own.
Who was she?
Cassion went tense and raised an eyebrow.
He was in a bad mood. His body wasn’t doing well either.
If he had had his way, he would have given her a good scolding for barging into a prince’s room, but Dayson was not the only one he had to deceive.
“In the royal palace, the walls have eyes and the ceilings have ears.”
He remembered the advice his mother had given him.
It was possible Dayson had sent her to check on his condition.
“W-who are you? A-and more importantly, how did you get in?”
Cassion drew in his killing intent, blinked his big eyes, and spoke in a simple-minded way. It was a fool’s act he had long since grown used to.
“My goodness! You’re a wonderful actor.”
But the other party saw right through his act.
Cassion’s rounded eyes slowly narrowed. The look he had put on to seem innocent turned to suspicion.
“Do you know what I just heard from outside?”
Realizing he had been seen through, Cassion closed his mouth. At times like this, silence was the finest defense.
The girl opened her mouth on her own, as though she had never intended to wait for an answer.
“Bastard.”
A curse that did not suit her pretty lips flowed out naturally. Cassion flinched.
“What was it now… Helba, the goddess’s soul…”
She heard everything.
Since she had already heard it all, there was no point pretending to be a fool. Cassion straightened the shoulders he had hunched and leaned back lazily against the sofa.
“I won’t let him get away with it. I’ll make sure even Helba, goddess of justice and destruction, can’t save him.”
Cassion kindly finished the sentence the girl had left incomplete.
“Oh, that’s it! It wasn’t original, but it was a literary curse. Why not write a poem while you’re at it? You look talented.”
The girl smiled brightly and went on.
“Who are you?”
Cassion no longer stammered. When he opened his eyes wide and steady, the innocent impression vanished, and in its place was a sharp face full of history.
The girl held out her hand.
Cassion stared down at the hand, slightly larger and fairer than his own.
“Hello, Your Highness. I am Diana Viola Irenber. The heir of the ducal house of Irenber. And you may think of me as the lifeline you have to grab if you want to live.”
“W-who are you? A-and more importantly, how did you get in?”
Cassion stammered and played the simpleton when he saw me.
Look at this cheeky little thing.
If I hadn’t heard him cursing away outside, I would have been fooled by Cassion’s act. His pitiable look was that convincing. It even suited Cassion’s appearance well.
Cassion looked so fragile that a light touch might snap him, with huge eyes hung with tears and breath that wheezed.
His being ill was a great misfortune, but it certainly helped him play the character he was aiming for.
I found him so cute, acting like that, that I considered watching a little longer. But I gave up the idea.
It would only be a waste of time.
Drawing out his true face was easy. Throwing back a few of the curses I had heard outside was enough.
The clever Cassion judged that he could not fool me and promptly showed his real self.
“Lady Irenber, ah, or should I call you Young Lady Irenber? Cough, damn it! What brings you here?”
He seemed to want to seize the upper hand with a swaggering manner, but Cassion’s body would not cooperate.
The spirit in his eyes was fierce, but every time he coughed his body bent like a willow, and it was only painful to watch.
“We need to air this place out. Janice, could you open that window?”
The musty smell had bothered me since I walked into the room.
When Janice opened the window, bright sunlight poured in until it filled the whole frame. Meanwhile, I finished looking around Cassion’s room.
It’s wretched. This is a prince’s palace? Still, I like that it gets good sunlight.
It was only because nobody had cleaned or tidied it that it looked this way; the palace’s design itself had been done properly.
I had seen enough of the room, so now it was Cassion’s turn.
His skin was rough and his lips were chapped and flaking. His complexion was sallow, and he was so thin that his cheekbones jutted out.
Setting aside that he was unwell, it was plain that he wasn’t being looked after properly.
And with those dark circles under his eyes, he must not be sleeping well, either.
I understood his irritable attitude. Anyone who was constantly harassed, never properly cared for, and sick on top of it would turn sour.
“What are you looking at?”
Cassion said bluntly. Though he was half dead with pain and looked ready to collapse, I found it admirable that he sat so upright and showed me his hostility.
He was not an abandoned kitten, but a wolf hiding a nasty nature beneath a cat’s skin.
One way or another, he’s going to be a high-maintenance type.
I had to ease the mood without making it awkward, but what should I say first?
“My lady, shall I take out the sweets and tea we brought?”
Wonderful Janice!
There’s nothing like food for helping people grow close.
I nodded. Janice scurried into motion.
She took pretty plates out of the big basket and laid out sweets that gave off a sweet fragrance.
When she added tea brewed from leaves imported from abroad, it made for a modest but quite lovely spread.
I had brought them just in case, and I was glad I had.
“Did you put poison in it?”
But I had been wrong to expect the mood to soften. Cassion was warped right down to the bottom.
Now, where do you start teaching a child with a bad temper?
