The Crown Prince’s Unsent Letter

Even his personality—which at first glance seemed haughty and standoffish—wasn’t so bad once you peeled back the layers. Though he had built high walls in the beginning, the group of people around him grew every time I saw him. Then again, it would have been weirder if someone who had fled after a near-assassination by his own brothers acted all sunshine and rainbows.

“Apply this at least three times a day. If the swelling doesn’t go down after observing it for two days…”

“Right. Thanks.”

I cut off Dimension, who was trying to recite the healer’s instructions verbatim, and took the vial. Even though he had finished his task, he didn’t head back immediately; instead, he stood there silently with his eyes cast down. If I looked closely, his lips were twitching. He was clearly hesitating to apologize.

Once I had wiped away the blood, the wound wasn’t that big. If I’d injured my eyelid, it might be a different story, but a scratch on the cheek wasn’t a huge deal. If I used a potion, it wouldn’t even leave a mark. Honestly, I wondered if leaving a scar on this face—which I couldn’t tell was a curse or a blessing—might actually be a good thing.

I had been injured far worse than this countless times over the past five years, so his reaction felt a bit excessive, making me feel embarrassed.

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“I’m sorry.”

He only spit the words out after I told him he didn’t need to. I waved my hand, dismissing it.

“I’m the one who didn’t dodge even though I knew the blade would break. Why are you the one feeling sorry?”

“…….”

“It’s fine, so go get some sleep.”

I was just a guest about to leave, but the trainees’ schedule was grueling. He was the one who needed a bed more than I did. Whether he recognized my consideration or not, Dimension uncharacteristically kept speaking.

“Are you returning to the capital?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you plan to join the Imperial Knights?”

“Probably.”

Since Spellman said he’d already written a recommendation letter, it wasn’t really a “probably.” Even if he was retired, it was a recommendation from a hero of the Empire and a former Commander-in-Chief. No one would dare oppose a candidate pushed by Edward Spellman.

There were parts of the original story I had to discard, but becoming an Imperial Knight was a necessary step to keep things moving as intended.

After a brief silence, Dimension nodded.

“I see.”

“Why? If you want to join too, ask him for a recommendation. Then I can put you through the wringer to celebrate becoming your senior.”

“I heard the Imperial Knights care about class years. Those in the same class don’t rank each other as seniors and juniors.”

Talking to a guy who didn’t understand a single joke was becoming exhausting. I didn’t bother arguing with his logic; I just waved him off with a smile.

“Sure, sure. You get some sleep, too.”

The future Duke, who strictly separated and respected personal space even while living amongst trainees, allowed himself to be pushed back as I nudged him. Only after I closed the door did I hear his footsteps fading away. Once I could no longer sense any presence, I dove into the bed. Thanks to the family tradition that one must eat well and sleep well to focus on training, the blankets were so fluffy and warm I wanted to be buried in them forever.

Seventeen, on the cusp of my eighteenth birthday. It was time to return to the capital.

“You really are a bastard.”

The first thing out of Elliot’s mouth was a curse, hissed through a glare so cold it felt like he wouldn’t bleed even if you pricked him.

“Are you ang—”

“Am I angry?”

Elliot snatched the words right out of my mouth and let out a long, heavy huuuuuu. It was a sigh thick with profound irritation. I forced a smile. Right. I’d asked a stupid question. Am I angry? Of course he was furious.

Seeing my face, Elliot curled one side of his lip upward. I had smiled thinking of the proverb about not spitting on a smiling face, but it seemed to have backfired. Perhaps the way he kept his arms tightly crossed wasn’t just to intimidate me; maybe he was forcibly holding himself back from swinging a fist.

“How could I possibly be angry? You must have had urgent business—business so, extremely urgent that you couldn’t even tell me in advance. I should be the one to understand.”

The fury bubbling beneath the surface threatened to overflow between every clipped word. I had no excuse, so I averted my eyes. I didn’t bother mentioning that I hadn’t even written to my family; that would obviously make things worse instead of better.

“You have your deep reasons, and for me to get—f*cking—angry without even grasping them… that would be too hasty, wouldn’t it?”

“…….”

“Even though I only found out you left long after you’d already had enough time to cross the imperial border. Even though I couldn’t get any information elsewhere and had to go all the way to Edwill Castle, only to be met by your terrifying family members. But what can I do? You had such a—f*cking, goddamn—urgent reason… Sigh.”

As he clamped his mouth shut to stop the torrent of curses, the veins in his neck stood out. Watching Elliot grab the bridge of his nose and try to catch his breath, my head hung lower and lower.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Actually, while I knew Elliot would be mad, I hadn’t expected such an intense reaction.

The Elliot I knew was a businessman by nature. He was better suited to chasing profit than being bound by sentiment. He might have regrets in that process, but never hesitation. So, I figured that while kids like Aiden or Helena might struggle with me being gone, Elliot wouldn’t linger on something—or someone—he couldn’t use immediately.

Ashamed as I was to admit it, I had even prepared myself not to feel hurt if he had moved on to find someone else to befriend after Edwill. But my worries had been for naught. Amidst the guilt and embarrassment, I felt a small spark of joy.

To hide the smile that wanted to creep up from this sudden wave of emotion, my face twisted into a strange grimace. It was a good thing I was looking down. If he had seen my face just then, Elliot might have uncrossed his arms and actually swung.

“And you didn’t even contact me immediately after coming back, but I suppose I should understand that, too.”

“I’m really sorry about that, but please, try to understand.”

As expected, I received a “passionate” welcome from my family the moment I returned. To put it nicely, it was a welcome; to be blunt, it was house arrest. When I was younger, maidservants guarded me, but now they took matters into their own hands.

Leo, who had the best senses in the family, and Cale, who worked late into the night, took up the rooms on either side of mine. Abel cast a spell to detect any movement within the house.

Thanks to that, the moment I even stepped out of my room, a side door would fly open. Leo, who had “lost” me five years ago because he was working, even took a leave of absence. Whenever he did that, Cale would come running with a face that looked like his heart was about to drop. There was no way I could go out in that situation.

The brief confinement only ended when Cale, who was the first to regain his senses, reminded everyone that we had to prepare for my upcoming eighteenth birthday. I agonized over whether I should contact Elliot, and though I sent word that I had returned, I simply couldn’t find a gap in my schedule to visit.

I had to make my debut within a month of my birthday at the latest, and I had to prepare for my knighting ceremony. I was happy that I wouldn’t have to serve as an apprentice since Spellman had pushed through to get me knighted immediately, but as I moved at a pace rivaling a celebrity, I started to feel a bit of regret.

I thought I had returned relatively quickly, but apparently, I was the only one who thought there were “still four months” until my birthday. My family fumed that there were “only four months” left.

I changed clothes dozens of times a day to fit formal banquet suits, and a tutor was brought in to quickly re-teach me the dances I’d learned as a child and forgotten from lack of use. If it were any other party, it might be fine, but Cale insisted that since this was my first public appearance since returning to the capital—and a once-in-a-lifetime debut—it couldn’t be done haphazardly.

Of course… I didn’t plan on half-assing my debut either. But still, there were times I felt this was a bit much.

I could understand going through the mountain of letters one by one to find a suitable partner. But when I saw Cale and Abel using magic to float portraits while considering family standing, siblings, looks, personality, and even whether the partner’s “concept” would match the clothes I’d wear on the day… I was a bit bewildered.

I’d resolved to be obedient and go along with things since I’d been away for so long against their wishes, but I still struggled to understand why it mattered if my partner had blonde or silver hair when my own outfit hadn’t even been decided yet.

I didn’t say it out loud, though, because I knew Abel would just look at me with despair and lament, “This is why people who pick up swords are like this!” Leo, who had already received a similar scolding, had been kicked out of the “Choosing the Youngest’s Debut Concept” meeting with his tail between his legs.

Because of all that, it took a full two weeks just to catch my breath. I had come to see Elliot as quickly as I possibly could, so I felt a little slighted by his criticism.

Elliot, having finally managed to simmer down while listening to my long excuses, loosened his tie and leaned back against the sofa.

I studied him, finding his appearance a bit unfamiliar. In five years, he had grown so much that the word “boy” no longer suited him. He had been taller than his peers since he was young, but now he was half a head taller than most, and his sharp face, while not as approachable as it once was, made it easier for people to trust him.

If there was a flaw, it was that he looked somewhat high-strung, but even that looked elegant, pairing well with his lean cheeks, firm jaw, and dark eyes.

Even though he wasn’t my own child or brother, seeing how well Elliot had grown made me feel a strange sense of pride.

“Stop making that face,” Elliot said flatly, furrowing his brows.

“What face?”

“That old-man face, looking at me like you’re proud.”

I flinched and denied it, but instead of pressing the issue, Elliot tossed something onto the table. It landed with a soft thud—a letter.

“What’s this?”

“An invitation to the Academy’s graduation ball. Sent by His Highness Erkel.”