Chapter 7
“Will you be alright, Your Highness?”
The first to voice his concern was Count Palatine Robert.
“Why would I not be?” Ezekiel replied lightly, changing his clothes in his chambers. “It is not as if my brother intends to harm me.”
Count Palatine Robert sighed heavily. “If Prince Etienne were that transparent, I would not worry. I would have forbidden it at once.”
Robert was a trusted aide the Emperor had assigned to Ezekiel, tasked with staying by his side until he chose a temple. Though only in his thirties, his hair was already streaked with gray, a testament to the rigors of palace life. Appointed Count Palatine at a young age, he had spent over a decade navigating the imperial court and had become acutely sensitive to the animosity of others. His greatest concern was Etienne’s jealousy.
It was always a matter of jealousy. The Emperor was unusually fond of Ezekiel. After losing his firstborn, it was natural for him to cherish his two remaining sons, but his attention toward Ezekiel was exceptional. And for good reason—Ezekiel was a flawless prince. While Etienne was certainly handsome, Ezekiel was the very image of the famously beautiful Empress. Moreover, from a young age, he had excelled in both scholarship and martial arts.
”Your Majesty! Let Prince Ezekiel’s sword protect the peace of the empire!”
”The peace of the empire is not won by the sword! I implore you, let me be the one to mentor Prince Ezekiel!”
The story of the Commander of the Imperial Knights and the Foreign Minister fighting over the right to teach a five-year-old Ezekiel was legendary. Ezekiel saw it as nothing more than an exaggerated display of flattery, but it had clearly struck a different chord with the Emperor. The Emperor openly favored his youngest son. It was even rumored that the late Empress had been forced to intervene, reminding him, “Etienne is to be the crown prince. Please treat your sons equally.”
It was perhaps inevitable, then, that Etienne grew jealous of his younger brother. To his credit, he suppressed that jealousy with a princely grace, treating Ezekiel with affection. If he had not, their relationship would never have been so amicable. But sometimes, the jealousy could not be contained, and its sharp edges would show. They were petty incidents, the kind that made the victim wonder, Am I just being paranoid?
Count Palatine Robert was, of course, well aware of these episodes. He was the Count Palatine, after all.
“Must you go, Your Highness?”
“Father has given his permission. Would it not be stranger to refuse?” Ezekiel smiled and patted Robert’s arm gently. “Nothing will happen.”
But Robert sighed again. “I am sure you are right. Just as nothing happened when Princess Genevieve was injured recently.”
“Robert.” Ezekiel’s face hardened.
Robert bowed his head. “My apologies.”
Not long ago, Etienne had started a quarrel, seemingly in jest. It was nothing, really—an incident that would have passed had Ezekiel simply not responded. He knew his brother was prone to fits of excessive spite, and he knew it was not truly his brother’s fault. If anyone was to blame, it was their father. The matter would have been forgotten, dismissed as another of Prince Etienne’s pranks. But their nine-year-old sister, Princess Genevieve, had gotten caught in the middle.
She had ended up with a cut on the fourth finger of her left hand. The wedding-ring finger. Rumors flew that her ladies-in-waiting were praying anxiously that the wound would not leave a scar.
“I was merely concerned,” Robert murmured.
“I am eighteen, Robert. Your worry is excessive.” Ezekiel’s tone was stiff. “He sometimes plays pranks that go too far, but that is all. Do not fret over such things. At times, your concern borders on obsession.”
“But…”
“Frankly, throwing cold water on my dog or breaking a cherished vase is not a threat to my life, is it?”
Robert fell silent. It was true. Etienne’s pranks never escalated beyond that level. Throwing cold water on Ezekiel’s dog. Breaking a treasured vase and claiming it was an accident. Princess Genevieve had been cut trying to intervene, but no one’s life had been in danger.
“But it was something you cherished.”
“Robert.” Ezekiel rubbed his forehead. “Those are all things I must leave behind when I enter the temple.”
This, too, was true. Whether he became a priest or a holy knight, one thing was certain: on his next birthday, he would leave the palace forever. The treasures of the imperial family were not his to take. What did it matter if a few objects he was destined to abandon were broken? Perhaps Etienne is trying to sever my attachments for me, Ezekiel mused. It was not worth a confrontation.
“…I understand.” Robert finally relented, biting his lip. He knew Etienne’s actions were not born of a true desire to harm Ezekiel. But to Robert, that made them more dangerous. A heart that could neither fully love nor fully hate—that amorphous, drifting emotion was what wounded people most deeply.
He knew that the third prince he served, though he appeared stoic and aloof, was in fact a deeply sensitive soul. This was a young man who would keep his palace windows open all summer for the swallows nesting there, who always ensured the servants had ice on the hottest days. How agonizing it must be for such a person to harbor even the slightest suspicion toward his own brother.
On the surface, Etienne and Ezekiel’s relationship was remarkably peaceful for imperial siblings. This was largely due to Ezekiel’s predetermined fate and his tendency to be obedient, laughing off most of his brother’s pranks. And Etienne, for all his spite, did feel a genuine brotherly affection. That was why Ezekiel could dismiss the incidents as mere mischief.
But Robert knew that some wounds were worse than any physical threat. The prince claimed he was ‘already eighteen,’ but to Robert, he was ‘only eighteen.’ And eighteen was an age when the heart could be broken in ways a sword never could.
And so, Robert prayed that the prince destined for a god would return safely from his summer vacation.
* * *
As expected, their destination was the Duchy of Arbois.
“Father is truly unreasonable,” Etienne grumbled. “He could have at least sent us somewhere with a view of the sea.”
Unfortunately, the Arbois Duchy was a vast, flat plain without so much as a single lake. Of course, those fertile lands were the source of the Duke’s power, and Lady Felicia was immensely proud of them. It was, however, a dreadfully boring place for a vacation.
“Since it has come to this, let us go on an inspection tour,” Etienne declared.
Fortunately, given the unprecedented situation of two princes vacationing together, the Emperor had assigned them a retinue of forty knights. Etienne had no desire to spend his days riding aimlessly across an empty plain with Lady Arbois, and the knights provided the perfect excuse. He would conduct an inspection of the surrounding territories.
The Duke of Arbois feigned admiration. “As expected of our future Crown Prince!” His true feelings, however, were likely quite different.
"That old man’s face was screaming, ‘An inspection tour instead of spending time with my daughter? Are you mad?’" Etienne laughed as they rode.
Ezekiel smiled wryly. “That was cruel. Felicia must have been looking forward to spending time with you.”
Naturally, Felicia Arbois had been deeply disappointed. She had been eager to show Etienne the lush forests of her territory and the beautiful gardens of Arbois Castle. She truly did not understand Etienne at all, but that was not her fault.
Ezekiel sighed. “You could have at least ridden in the carriage with her.”
“Are you insane?” Etienne shrieked.
Felicia, however, had grit. She insisted on accompanying them as their guide. But when she appeared with a four-horse carriage, Etienne had taken one look and vaulted onto his horse without a word.
“You will be punished for that, brother.”
“I do not care! Let them punish me!”
Perhaps his words were a prophecy. For ignoring Felicia’s heart, Etienne was indeed punished. Both brothers ended up stranded.
* * *
