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◈ Prince of Rage ◈

Chapter 4

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Count Aethelred's study offered a clear view beyond the castle walls, over the village and farmland below the hill.

Beyond them lay vast stretches of land, forests, rivers, and mountain ridges marking the region's borders, all bathed in the bright spring sunlight.

"......So, despite my warning, um, Wid...... young master? The young master did not wear his work clothes properly yesterday. Perhaps his duties have been difficult lately......"

The treasurer was anxiously reporting this unusual matter to Count Aethelred, who was looking out the window.

It was easy enough to treat Wid as a young boy in person, but the treasurer seemed unable to tell what the count thought of his illegitimate son, making even a form of address difficult to choose.

"Anything else?"

Count Aethelred asked without turning around.

"Nothing else...... I checked the documents, and his work was done without any flaws, but......"

"I see. You may leave."

At the dismissal, the treasurer somehow folded his thick waist into a bow, then fled the uncomfortable room.

Gidwin was tending his sword in one corner of the study. He appeared less uneasy than the treasurer, but after watching the count for a moment, he cautiously spoke.

"Yesterday morning, Wid and Tommy got into an altercation in the forest. It was quite a fight...... Tommy was subdued without being able to do anything."

"......Is that so? He seemed interested in knightly lessons."

Unlike with the treasurer, whom he had not even looked at, Count Aethelred turned to Gidwin as he spoke.

"I'd never noticed any sign of it before. It happened suddenly yesterday. He couldn't have trained separately, yet he clearly seems talented. No, to be honest, he was remarkable. Almost unbelievably so."

"......"

Count Aethelred thought perhaps the blood of the Volsung royal house, the last bloodline of a god, truly was different.

Yet he did not welcome that difference. His duty was to keep the secret completely and raise Valerie safely until the current king died.

There was nothing to gain from drawing attention through unusual talent. It could make keeping the secret difficult. And if Valerie learned martial arts, foolishly displayed his strength somewhere, and got himself killed, everything would be over.

Besides, the count had not seen it himself and only assumed it was something impressive by children's standards. Even if Valerie had some talent, he did not think much of his skill.

"How about testing him at least once?"

Gidwin carefully offered his opinion.

For a squire, not even a knight, to dare offer an opinion might have been presumptuous. Still, he had not served the count for only a day or two. Perhaps he could occasionally speak his mind.

Count Aethelred did not rebuke Gidwin. Instead, he gave a faint, unexpected smile and shook his head.

"Everyone has their proper place."

To Gidwin, it sounded like the count was saying that an illegitimate son would remain an illegitimate son. Count Aethelred seemed to hold Valerie dear, but he did not appear willing to actively support him. That was how Gidwin felt.

"And Harald? Is he attending his lessons well?"

Count Aethelred asked after Harald.

Harald, surprisingly, had much to do. In the mornings, he attended lessons with a tutor, and in the afternoons, he had to learn the Seven Knightly Arts, the seven skills expected of a knight.

His lessons covered heraldry, history, arithmetic, court etiquette, and more. The Seven Knightly Arts were swordsmanship, archery, spear fighting, riding, swimming, chess, and poetry.

Some could be used for a lifetime after being learned once, but others required diligent practice throughout one's life.

It was truly difficult to excel at everything, but it was good to have at least basic martial skill. Some noble houses trained only in combat, to the point that they could not even read or write.

That was because this was a world where blades held more persuasive power than words or writing.

"Ah? Well, that is...... Hahaha......"

At Count Aethelred's question, Gidwin tried to smooth things over with an awkward laugh. The truth was that Harald skipped nearly all his lessons and was too busy playing.

In the mornings, the sound of his tutor searching for Harald and shouting at the top of his lungs was almost a fixed part of life at Winslow Castle. Of course, only when the count was away.

When Gidwin discreetly checked his expression, Count Aethelred did not seem particularly angry. He merely looked as though he might sigh at any moment.

"It is time he became more mature......"

In a world where fifteen was adulthood and children sometimes joined battles at even younger ages, thirteen could not be considered entirely young.

"Still, everyone likes the young lord. For his sake, they would throw themselves into fire and water, and they would not refuse even difficult work."

Gidwin tried to defend Harald. To him, Harald was someone he had to be loyal to, a friend, and a younger brother he needed to look after.

But Count Aethelred shook his head.

"A ruler who is only loved cannot protect what is his. You are too young to understand. Once the thin wrapping called peace is stripped away, the world becomes a terrifying place. We learn and train every day so that, when an unbearable storm comes, we can somehow find a way to survive."

With a worried expression, Count Aethelred turned back toward the window. The land beyond looked utterly peaceful, but to him, it seemed precarious.

Gidwin did not fail to understand his lord's concerns, but he felt they were somewhat excessive.

That was because he had never seen corpses blanket a field or a river run red with blood.

After saying he would quit as cashier, Valerie had nothing to do. In other words, he was living in the castle with no work, idly eating and passing the time.

In a world where "those who do not work should not eat" was accepted as common sense, he received subtle looks of disapproval from all around.

Yet no one dared say anything outright. For servants to act accordingly, Count Aethelred or his wife had to give some instruction, or at least some indication of how they felt about the illegitimate son. There had been nothing of the sort.

That meant an illegitimate son could be treated worse than even the lowborn or treated no differently from a true noble, depending on the circumstances. It depended entirely on a lord's favor or interest.

Tommy used to quietly look down on Valerie, but even that stopped after his birthday. Valerie had become, in the truest sense, an outsider whom no one touched.

No, there was exactly one exception.

Valerie sat somewhere on the slope of the hill where the castle stood, staring endlessly out across the fields.

Herds of cattle grazing in the distance like tiny dots, carts traveling along the roads, people bending until their backs nearly broke as they weeded the fields, the world beyond those mountain ridges, and his mother, somewhere in that world.

Valerie had never once called out the names mother or mom, nor had he ever held them in his heart. Before his regression, he had not even thought of finding her. If he asked himself why, he could only say that rage had blinded him.

If he were to try to find her now, there were steps he would have to take, obstacles he would have to overcome.

First, unlike ordinary marriage customs, the king could have several wives. They did not live together. Instead, the king would stay with a wife's family for a time, and once she became pregnant, he would leave.

It was a method the first king, Valerie's grandfather, had chosen to stabilize the country after the conquest.

Originally, the Norsemen had no concept of a kingdom. There were only countless tribes. But after gaining a country overnight through conquest, the first king must have had no choice but to use marriage as a form of alliance in order to receive, and maintain, the chieftains' support.

But that would produce too many princes, and the country could be torn apart. The Norsemen traditionally divided inheritances.

So they established this strange, bizarre, or perhaps sacred system of royal succession.

The moment a prince was born, he was separated from his mother. His name, status, and related information were recorded in something called the Golden Register.

Rune-mages managed the register. They appointed guardians to keep the secret and raise the princes.

When the king died, the Valkyries, the king's daughters, checked the register and told the princes their true names and status. From that point on, the war of succession began.

Because of this system, even the king had no way of knowing which children were his sons or what their names were. Unless they looked into the Golden Register, the princes had even less chance of knowing who their mothers were.

So finding his mother was practically impossible, unless he waged war against the king or committed the grave crime of killing rune-mages.

It could be done. Valerie as he was now could do it. But was it worth that much? Worth paying any price? Even if he discovered who his mother was, then what?

"Wid."

A breeze blew in from somewhere, carrying the scent of acacia flowers past his nose. Then he heard someone call the name that was not his real one. Turning around, he saw Harald, the only person who bothered him.

Harald was accompanied by several not yet fully grown hunting hounds. When Valerie turned, they wagged their tails and came over, trying to lick his face and hands.

It was terribly bothersome, but Valerie did not dislike dogs.

Avoiding them when appropriate and petting them when appropriate, he answered.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Can't you see? I'm sitting."

At Valerie's blunt response, Harald came closer, sat beside him, and petted the dogs with him.

"About that day, at the dinner. Did I make a mistake?"

"No."

"Did I upset you?"

"No."

"I'll apologize. I'm sorry."

"......You're going to be a count. Are you apologizing?"

"Counts aren't allowed to apologize?"

"Unbelievable."

As if sick of Harald's naive response, Valerie shook his head. Harald merely smiled.

Harald was lost in thought for a moment. The two sat together in the spring breeze blowing across the hill.

Then Harald's smile faded, and he spoke with a serious expression of his own.

"Want to look for her together? Your mother."

"Don't pity me. That really does upset me."

"I'm not pitying you."

"Don't joke around."

"I'm not joking."

"Don't make me angry."

"Did I make you angry? Me?"

Valerie frowned and shot Harald a sharp glare. But there was no venom in it.

Most people would shrink back, even freeze, when faced with Valerie's intense gaze. Harald seemed entirely unaffected. That irritated Valerie a little.

"I told you. We're brothers. I mean it. I want you to understand that."

Harald spoke with a somewhat bitter expression.

Whom had he taken after to become so soft? Valerie was starting to find it almost admirable, beyond merely pathetic. He was about to sharply tell Harald to mind his own business. To take care of himself instead of worrying about others.

But the words rose to his throat and ultimately did not leave his mouth.

"You idiots. What are you doing there? You look like a pair of layabouts."

Valerie and Harald turned around at once. Gidwin stood looking down at them.

"The count is looking for you. Come with me."

Harald flinched, then soon rose with a sullen expression.

Valerie remained seated, petting the dogs. Looking at him, Gidwin spoke.

"What are you doing? You too, Wid. He called for you as well."

"......"

Valerie had not expected to be summoned, so he was surprised. Me? Why?

He thought for a moment, but could not figure it out. He simply brushed himself off and stood up.

Together with the dogs, he climbed the slope.

When they arrived at the count's study, Count Aethelred sat at his desk reviewing documents. Permits, contracts, letters, things like that.

Light shone through the window behind him, falling at an angle across him and his desk. The room was filled with the smell of wood, paper, and ink.

Even after Gidwin brought the two boys in, Count Aethelred did not spare them a glance. For some time, he only reviewed the documents on his desk.

Perhaps afraid he would be scolded for skipping lessons, or perhaps for what had happened at dinner, Harald watched the count's mood before speaking.

"You called for us."

Only then did the count slowly lift his head and look at Harald and Valerie. He merely watched them for a moment, then abruptly gave an order.

"In a few days, a horse market will open in Blackcon. Take Roden and Kael and sell them. Whether you get a fair price or make a trade, conclude the deal and return. Go."

Blackcon was a city within the Winslow demesne. Roden and Kael were both riding horses, Roden an old stallion and Kael a young mare.

Valerie and Harald were both bewildered by the unexpected order, but they could not ask Count Aethelred anything as he returned to his documents.

"I said go."

Count Aethelred spoke again. It was improper to make a lord repeat himself, so Valerie and Harald had no choice but to leave the count's study.

"Horses...... Do you know how much they cost?"

Harald asked. He thought Valerie, having worked as a cashier, might know at least roughly.

But even aside from that work, Valerie knew how horse prices changed. Before his regression, he had managed iron and horses closely because they were strategic resources.

"There is no set price. It changes depending on the circumstances. During a war, they would be incredibly expensive, but it isn't wartime now. Even outside war, prices differ according to conditions at the horse market that day. It depends on what horses are being offered and what horses people want. The people called big players have a great influence on prices, but even they cannot do whatever they want. We can watch how things develop before deciding. The count said trading was fine too, so it would be a major gain if we could trade them for a warhorse, but don't expect it."

"......"

Harald looked at Valerie with wide, surprised eyes.

"How do you know all that?"

Valerie ignored Harald and kept walking. Harald hurried after him and continued.

"Wid is really smart. We can leave it all to Wid."

At that, Valerie stopped, shot Harald a sharp look, and warned him.

"Hey, get a grip. You are the one who decides. I'll only give a little help. And don't take horse trading lightly. People who will never come here again might do anything. Do you think they will bow obediently just because you're the count's son? What will you do if they harm you, get on a horse, and cross the border? How would you catch them?"

"......S-sorry. I just......"

When Valerie snapped at him, Harald panicked and stammered.

As if fed up, Valerie turned away and walked on alone. Even so, Harald stubbornly followed him.

Valerie thought he understood why Count Aethelred had given them this order. He wanted Harald to learn a little about the ways of the world, and he seemed to intend to give Valerie the treasurer's work. Or perhaps make him the current treasurer's assistant.

The problem was that none of this had happened before his regression. He had never imagined he would end up cleaning up after Harald.

But even Valerie could not tell whether it was better to spend every day calculating money and keeping himself as inconspicuous as possible, or to be as he was now.

It was bothersome, but it was not boring.

It felt like buying something he did not want by paying a price he did not want to pay.

The greatest change was that, alongside his guilt toward Harald, he no longer disliked him entirely.

That made Valerie deeply uncomfortable.

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