WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

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◈ Prince of Rage ◈

Chapter 11

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Valerie’s daily life did not change right away.

He woke at dawn, put his bedding in order, ran with the others to the mountain ahead of the castle, carried piles of stones, and ran up the mountain. Then he returned to the castle and spent the afternoons teaching the others swordsmanship. Each day repeated itself.

Whenever he had time, he rode Snow across the fields. The winter that had visited now and then was steadily fading away, and it was a good time for riding. The flowers in the fields had taken on the colors of spring.

He did not know what Count Aethelred was thinking, but he was not particularly interested. They had no reason to meet, either.

The children seemed more worried, showing unease over one thing or another. Whenever that happened, it was Valerie who reassured them.

“What if the Duke’s army comes to take you away?”

“That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure? Wouldn’t it be better to run away first?”

“I’ll fight alongside you.”

“Hakon, it would help if you just stayed still.”

“Don’t hate me, Wid.”

“I’ve never hated you.”

“Then?”

“You’re just a nuisance.”

“What should I do so I’m not a nuisance?”

“Don’t be a nuisance.”

“?”

“But honestly, it was satisfying. If it had been a battle where our lives were at stake, I would have won. Swordsmen seem to learn nothing but unpleasant tricks.”

“Wouldn’t it have been better to cut off his head while we were at it?”

“Tommy, have you still not gotten your temper under control?”

“That’s something you should say to Wid. I didn’t do anything.”

Their conversations were roughly like that. They were children.

Still, Valerie preferred the children’s childish conversations to the concerns of adults. There were no calculations behind them. It was more comforting to hear words spoken thoughtlessly.

Surprisingly, however, Harald did not say much. He only asked when they were alone.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s obvious.”

“What is?”

“Duke Sven. He’s consistently cunning, so he’ll use another cunning scheme this time as well.”

“What kind of scheme?”

“He’ll quietly win me over and help me build strength. Then he’ll use me to keep the House of Winslow in check.”

“...Wid, are you living your life twice or something?”

Valerie turned to Harald and smiled. As always, whenever Valerie smiled, he looked like a painting.

“You found me out.”

“I know you’re trying to go to the Duke’s household in my place.”

“...I see. I didn’t realize you would know.”

“I may act like a child sometimes, but I’m not oblivious.”

“I knew that.”

“Hey, Wid.”

“What?”

“Why don’t you talk like a person?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Are you complaining right now?”

“Yeah. Why? What are you going to do about it?”

“...”

Valerie let out a disbelieving laugh. Still, he felt cheerful. He shook his head and spoke.

“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to me, and I don’t intend to do anything to Winslow. In fact, there’ll be more I can do at the Duke’s household than here. If they intend to use me, I can use them without hesitation as well.”

“That’s a relief, then.”

“Have you calmed down now?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Valerie laughed again. It felt just right. There was an appropriate distance between them. They neither clung to one another nor pushed each other away too much.

“Would you be upset if I said I envy you, Wid?”

“No. I wouldn’t be upset.”

“You have something I don’t. The reverse is probably true as well. In the end, I have no choice but to remain here, but you don’t.”

“...”

Valerie thought that was understandable. In the past, he might have glared at Harald and called him immature. But not now. If there was something that had changed since his regression, that was it.

A spring breeze blew. Those standing at the threshold between boyhood and adulthood needed to learn how to let old feelings, and feelings they could no longer carry, drift away on the wind.

Two weeks passed after the instructional sparring match.

This time, a messenger arrived first with word that an envoy from Duke Sven would be coming.

Three days later, a man named Ketilmund, one of Duke Sven’s adjutants, came to Winslow with his attendants.

An adjutant was someone who assisted a ruler with practical affairs at close range, and Ketilmund, though concubine-born, carried the blood of the ducal house. It was a visit that warranted proper courtesy and rank.

For that reason, Count Aethelred and the members of his household came out of the castle to greet him with due ceremony.

Ketilmund dismounted below the castle hill and walked up. It was against etiquette to look down on one’s superiors or nobles from horseback.

In many ways, this was different from when Gale had come. Unlike Gale, Ketilmund was a far more sophisticated operator.

“Oh, why have you done this? You didn’t need to come out to greet me. I hardly know where to put myself, Count.”

“No. I could not commit a breach of etiquette.”

“No, no. There is an old saying that even a farmer is king in his own home. As a servant, I can only look up to you, Count. There is no need for you to show courtesy to someone as lowly as me.”

“Well, in any case, let us go inside. A banquet has been prepared.”

“It is an honor beyond measure. Thank you, Countess.”

Ketilmund did not forget to greet the Countess. At the same time, his gaze swept across those present in an instant. Harald, the knights, and Valerie. Valerie’s appearance was striking enough to catch the eye at once.

The banquet included Count Aethelred, his wife, Ketilmund, Harald, and Valerie. Ketilmund’s attendants and Aethelred’s two knights stood along the walls.

Ketilmund made jovial small talk, and Count Aethelred responded appropriately. The incident at the instructional sparring match was not mentioned.

Then, as the meal was nearing its end, Ketilmund said he had something to show them and gestured to an attendant. The attendant brought forth a box.

Ketilmund placed the box before himself and spoke.

“It is a gift, in a manner of speaking. I hope it pleases you.”

As he spoke, he stared directly at Valerie and opened the box.

“Gasp!”

The Countess was so startled that she nearly fell from her chair. The Count hurriedly caught her. Harald also flinched in surprise.

The box was filled with salt, and in its center was Gale’s head. Its nose was gone, it was somewhat shriveled, and its color had turned bluish.

Naturally, Valerie did not look flustered in the slightest. Ketilmund watched him from beginning to end, as if he meant to catch even the smallest movement of his facial muscles. It was a test, suddenly presenting something shocking to gauge his reaction.

“What is this?”

Count Aethelred asked with a deep frown. He was angry that his wife had been frightened, but more than that, this was not something to place on a dining table.

“I heard that he dared to speak rudely to you, Count. These days, those beneath us can become so full of themselves that they fail to know their place. The ducal household apologizes in his stead. This is meant as an apology. Will you accept it?”

People from the ducal household were always like this. Their actions were rude, but their words were apologetic.

Count Aethelred turned his head away in disgust.

“...I will accept the sentiment. Remove it at once.”

Only then did Ketilmund close the box.

“Thank you. Also, His Grace has taken a great interest in Young Master Wid. Was it at the market in Blackcon? Your exploits there have been discussed in Torvik for days. And since you disciplined that arrogant swordsman, it has been proven that you are no less than a genius in battle. His Grace wishes to meet you as soon as possible.”

It was plainly an order for Valerie to come.

After they had gone this far, it was difficult to refuse. If they had threatened him instead, there would at least have been grounds to resist. But they had brought Gale’s severed head and apologized first on the Duke’s behalf. To say he could not go would be to treat the Duke with contempt.

For Count Aethelred, it was truly an impossible situation. He was obliged to keep the prince’s secret and protect him. Therefore, the thought of Valerie leaving his care made him deeply uneasy.

Yet Valerie somehow knew his own name and status. Above all, the words, “You are not a vessel capable of containing me,” had lodged in Aethelred’s heart and still echoed in his ears.

He felt helplessness, guilt over his incompetence, and shame. So he closed his eyes.

“I will go.”

Valerie spoke first. Ketilmund then showed a kindly smile overflowing with pretense. It was a smile made with deliberate movements of his muscles, his eyes crinkling too much and the corners of his mouth curling upward.

“Young Master Wid wishes it as well. You will grant permission, will you not, Count?”

Aethelred did not answer for a long time. At last, he reluctantly nodded.

“Do not worry too much, Count. It is not as though we will eat the young master. His reputation is simply so widespread that we wish to invite him to the Duke’s household out of admiration. It is not very far by horse, is it? You can see him whenever you wish.”

Without understanding Aethelred’s feelings, Ketilmund kept talking as though he were trying to comfort him.

But he did not know that Valerie was observing him as well.

They made their preparations without delay and decided to depart two days later. Valerie packed his usual clothes and daily necessities. The first thing he packed was the gambeson the Countess had made for him.

A sudden change in circumstances would normally leave a person unsettled, but Valerie spent his time as he always did. He woke at dawn, put his bedding in order, ran up the mountain, returned, and taught swordsmanship.

He did not feel stifled at all. When the others could not spend time with him because of their duties, he rode Snow across the fields.

He rode and rode upstream until he reached a place where he felt alone in the world, then stopped his horse. Spring flowers swayed in the wind, and sunlight glittered across the river.

As he remained there in the wind for some time, he heard hoofbeats from the direction he had come. When he turned his head, he was surprised to see Count Aethelred emerge over the ridge.

The Count rode to where Valerie was. He brought his horse alongside Valerie’s and looked over the river, the fields, and the spring landscape.

Valerie did not bother to speak first. Neither of them said anything. Yet there was no discomfort or awkwardness. It was simply so.

Then, as though letting the words drift away on the wind, Count Aethelred began to speak. Not as a count speaking to a prince, but as one person speaking to another, or perhaps as one being to another.

“It was around this time of year, I think. Fourteen years ago, the flames of war had long since died, yet its embers still remained. I had gathered in Valden, the royal capital, and was deployed in an operation to eliminate routed troops. But though they were called routed troops, they were seasoned warriors who had fought in the Founding War. They say His Majesty won the War of the Beasts because of the knights? From what I saw, that was not true at all. I saw countless fellow knights struck by axes that came flying suddenly from the brush and meet sudden deaths. It was terrifying, facing those mad warriors. And there was the fear of never knowing when or where you would die.”

Count Aethelred’s gaze, as he looked at the spring scenery, seemed to reach beyond the landscape to the past.

“It snowed. Spring snow. Like when the horse market opened recently. It poured down thickly. We had lost troops and were retreating in haste. The night was deep, we did not know where we were, and I thought we would surely die. Then I met a rune-mage. They wore a large hat and had an air about them, as though soft moonlight surrounded them. Were they younger than I expected? I do not remember well. I followed them as they instructed, and there was an old ruined tower. You were there. You were truly this small. Can you believe it?”

Count Aethelred held out his palm. Valerie looked at it.

“You were like this, and now you have become what you are. I do not know what to say. Your umbilical cord looked as though it had been cut only recently. Are princes truly taken from their mothers’ arms as soon as they are born, as they say? At the time, I was in such a state of confusion, and the rune-mage vanished after leaving only your name and a warning. Valerie. Guard the secret and protect him. Mourn the dead gods... From that moment, my own life no longer mattered. I could only think that I had to save this tiny, fragile life.”

“...”

“As you know, I had previously lost two wives and two children. After enduring such an experience twice, I came to hate life itself. Perhaps that was why, when I first saw you, you truly seemed like my son sent by the dead gods. Later, after I returned home from the operation, I learned that Sybild was pregnant.”

Valerie merely listened quietly to Count Aethelred. It felt different from when the Countess revealed her sincerity. He was not overcome with emotion, but neither was he unmoved.

It felt as though something was melting, or as though his heart was gradually growing lighter. Like a spring breeze. In any case, that was how it felt.

“...What is it you wish to say?”

“You were found near Ringstre. It is not far from Valden, the royal capital. Perhaps your mother lived nearby. I do not know whether she still lives there. And Valerie is neither a Nord name nor an Astrian name. I understand that a prince’s name is given by his mother, so I suspect she may have come from another land. That is what I wanted to tell you.”

“...”

Valerie stood quietly in the wind. Then he asked one more question.

Perhaps he did not need to ask it. Yet perhaps it was a question he could ask only at this moment. If he let this moment pass, he might never have another chance.

“If one of Harald and I had to die, whom would you choose?”

It seemed like a childish question. Yet Count Aethelred did not take it lightly. He thought for a long time, asking himself what he would do if such a situation truly came to pass.

“...I would kill you, then kill myself. That is my responsibility.”

The moment he heard those words, Valerie smiled without realizing it. He could not have been more satisfied.

Still smiling, Valerie offered his hand for a handshake. It was somewhat abrupt, and Count Aethelred looked as though he did not understand what it meant.

Valerie spoke.

“Let us reconcile.”

Reconcile? The Count considered what that meant. He looked back over how he had treated Valerie for the past fourteen years, and remembered how Valerie had recently saved Harald. He thought that he had fallen short in many ways.

Count Aethelred clasped Valerie’s hand.

“I am sorry. I have fallen short in many ways. Forgive me.”

Valerie answered without a word, with a deeper smile.

Spring had fully arrived. The air was cool, and now and then, a warm breeze blew.

Chapter 3: Farewell for Reconciliation. End.

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