By Zephyria 
I was left alone with Prince Rubel at the Flying Dagger Training Field.
Deep down, I didn’t want to waste time pointlessly on practice, so I was grateful that he suggested we stay at the Flying Dagger Training Field to finish our training.
When I said that, Rubel nodded, a clear smile gracing his pale face.
“I thought Young Master Ernhardt would be like that.”
“You thought I’d be like that…?”
“You always like the time you spend learning something new. Especially if it’s related to swordsmanship or martial arts. Today, you improved a bit more than last week, so I figured you wouldn’t want to stop midway.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I replied briefly and took my stance.
Sierren’s way of speaking was naturally gentle, but I found the boy’s particularly affectionate tone heartwarming. A chuckle escaped me.
I also liked how he consistently tried to pay attention to me and show consideration.
Rubel, like a puppy bringing back a bone, picked up a throwing knife and placed it firmly in my hand.
He even corrected my grip, folding my fingers one by one to hold it properly. It was a motion I had repeated dozens of times already, so I laughed again at him bothering to help when I could hold it myself.
After checking my posture as I prepared to throw the knife, I glanced at the boy as he immediately stepped back three paces, and then I threw it.
The throwing knife flew sharply, and I heard the sound of it embedding itself in the target. It landed two inches away from the center of the bullseye, but I had thrown it with considerable force, so about half the blade was buried and invisible in the target.
“I prefer this to just playing around.”
“…I’m glad.”
“But you’re only helping me, and you don’t seem to be practicing anything yourself. Is that okay?”
“Huh? No, no, it’s not. I mean… you know how they say you learn while you teach? By watching Young Master Ernhardt’s stance, I’m refreshing my memory of the proper, you know, basic… things. It’s a great help.”
“Is that so?”
When I extended my hand, Rubel handed me another throwing knife.
Instead of taking it, I wrapped my hand around his wrist. I supported his backhand with my fingers and turned his wrist inward so the palm faced up, then felt his pulse with my thumb.
In the Central Plains, this might have been considered rude, but in Sierren, people often grabbed each other’s hands so casually that I thought it would only be a moment of mild surprise.
Since we were both men, there was no need for excessive politeness.
Holding his sturdy wrist, I scanned the shape of his hand. Rubel was tall and lanky overall. His hands were the same. I figured that once he grew a bit more, he’d be able to comfortably hold two or three throwing knives at once.
His fingers were slender, but his knuckles were thick, showing signs of consistent training.
There were calluses above the second joint of his index finger, and the inside of his palm was hardened in the shape of a sword hilt. His throbbing pulse indicated a strong Qi Flow.
He had a magnificent martial physique.
(A superb body optimized for learning martial arts)
“…Ah, uh… why my hand all of a sudden?”
“It just occurred to me that it would have been nice if you used a one-handed sword.”
“Should I switch?”
“Huh?”
“Ah, um, no. Why? My hand… doesn’t seem like a good hand for a two-handed sword?”
“All the swordplay I know uses only one-handed swords, so I don’t have a way to repay your help as effectively as you help me.”
“Ah… you wanted to teach me swordplay…”
I released his wrist.
Rubel was still holding his hand up in the air, looking down at his palm. If someone like him were wandering the streets of the Central Plains, he would undoubtedly have been scouted by a great sect long ago.
He was an incredibly desirable talent, even for me, who had never considered succession before because I couldn’t teach swordplay to anyone who wasn’t of royal blood.
He didn’t look like someone who needed to retrain the basics.
Of course, training methods varied, and I myself repeated the Three Calamities Sword Technique whenever I hit a wall, so I couldn’t say he was wrong.
I merely felt a moment of wonder and regret before picking up the throwing knife Rubel was holding.
As I did, I added, “I won’t forget this favor, so if you ever need help later, please tell me. I may not be able to lend you my family’s name, but I will consider anything I can do to help.”
“Uh… you’ll only consider it?”
“Your bloodline and status are a bit of a burden to me.”
“…Ah.”
It was a little pitiful to see Rubel immediately fall silent, but that was all.
I believed that the boy’s pure and kind disposition was entirely separate from the danger his bloodline could bring to my own family.
After that, he occasionally paid attention to the angle of my shoulder or the direction of my arm, but he said nothing else.
Noticing his once bright face now carried a strangely subdued expression, I suggested we take a break after throwing the eighth knife, rubbing my right elbow.
We sat opposite each other at a table in a corner of the training field. We hadn’t moved our bodies much, so while my muscles might be tired, I wasn’t sweating.
As we sat in silence, the boy looked up with his dark eyes and glanced over at me. I met his gaze without flinching. The boy hesitated for a long time.
His mouth opened and closed repeatedly. He finally managed to speak, as if squeezing the words out in a sigh.
“…Is me being a prince a hindrance to becoming close with Young Master Ernhardt?”
“Yes.”
“…Why? I mean, will it be a burden to be close to me if I become Emperor?”
I chose my words carefully. I had no intention of upsetting him.
“It’s not that… I believe the Emperor’s authority in the Sierran Empire is as high as the Empire itself is vast. Naturally, there will be many who covet the throne.”
“…Mm.”
“My family’s safety is extremely important to me, so I don’t want to get caught up in things like succession struggles.”
“Wait a minute, Young Master Ernhardt. The succession struggle in the Sierran Empire isn’t that fierce. It’s not like there’s bloodshed.”
Impossible. I looked at Rubel’s pale face, bewildered, and recalled Shayden Rose mentioning something about the succession.
Shayden had worried about his rash actions leading to the beheading of his family’s knights. His fear wouldn’t have arisen from nothing.
Even in the Central Plains, those born into noble bloodlines were often merely exiled for grave offenses, while their servants could lose their heads for minor mistakes.
As it was evident that I didn’t believe him, he drew his dark eyebrows into an inverted V and protested.
“Of course, my brother and I are vying for the throne, but we’re having a fair competition. Father said that after all three of us siblings reach adulthood, he will choose the successor through several trials.”
“What will those trials assess?”
“I don’t know yet, but I suspect they’ll prioritize political and economic studies. They’ll also consider things like which families we have close relationships with. They might even make us solve problems facing the country.”
“Yes.”
“But the most important thing is that Father desires peace.”
“Mm.”
“So do I. No matter how bad my relationship with Brother Richard is, I don’t want to kill him. If one of us becomes Emperor, the other will receive the title of Duke. We’ll be given a portion of the imperial territory and pledge loyalty to the other as a subject.”
It was a naive thought.
The current strength of the Sierran imperial power was due to the Emperor’s robustness and the youth of his children.
When I didn’t immediately show agreement, the boy leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. His face, now closer, was filled with disappointment, which I found pitiable.
Looking at the boy like that, I realized that if I had only heard his pleading voice without Shayden’s warning, I might have been completely fooled.
I didn’t want to make the child, who was fidgeting before me and declaring he wouldn’t kill his siblings, cry, so I belatedly nodded in agreement.
“…Alright.”
“327 years ago, the Shiaren Great Reform began, didn’t it?”
History lesson, suddenly?
I paused in surprise, but it seemed he wasn’t waiting for my answer as Rubel continued.
His words flowed smoothly, as if rehearsed, and continued in a low, steady tone.
“Did you learn what caused it?”
“No, I only learned the year the Great Reform occurred… and that the noble families who led the reform became the five ducal families we have now.”
“What about the story of a child who had just been born ascending to the throne 350 years ago?”
“…I don’t know.”
Rubel clasped his hands together on the table.
I glanced at his tightly intertwined hands, which looked like he was praying or pleading, then returned my gaze to his still pale face.
Rubel licked his lips, as if thirsty. If only I had some tea to offer. I thought, calmly waiting for him to continue.
“Nine generations ago, there was a great war over the throne. It’s said that the Emperor of the preceding generation had many consorts and fathered over a dozen children. They all vied for the throne, backed by their respective maternal relatives, leading to constant disputes between territories.”
“Yes.”
“There are tales that it was the worst dark age since the founding of the Sierran Empire. So many people died that they stacked graves upon graves because there was no room to make new ones.”
“…Mm.”
“The Emperor died, the Crown Prince died, and the remaining princes and princesses killed each other. The nobles who had taken sides also died, and the knights beneath them… Then, the prince and princess who survived until the end and continued to attack each other both died simultaneously. The civil war only ended when there was no one left alive with the blood of the imperial family.”
“What? Then now…”
“There was a child of the previous Emperor who hadn’t been born yet. They say he was born six months after that chaos. Because the Emperor of Sierren, for mythical reasons, had to be of royal blood, the newborn child became Emperor before he was even weaned. Naturally, the country wasn’t run properly.”
“…”
“The heads of the five most rational and sane families among the nobles who survived at that time thought that if power became concentrated in anyone’s hands, the remaining nobles would all be purged. Well, of course, their personal relationships also played a significant role in the decision.”
Rubel took a breath and continued, “Regardless, the nobles reached a successful agreement. They decided to protect and properly raise the Emperor until he came of age, to personally create an Emperor worthy of the title.”
“…That sounds like the right thing to do.”
“The only problem was that the child didn’t want to be Emperor. He, who had become Emperor at birth, passed away at the age of twenty-three, and everyone who had cherished the new Emperor was deeply shocked and saddened.”
I was speechless.
I understood why we hadn’t learned the details of this in class. This was a secret history of the Sierran imperial family. Even if one knew it, it wasn’t something that could be discussed openly.
“Fortunately, that Emperor left behind three children. The remaining people of Sierren appointed the child who most wanted to be Emperor as the next Emperor, and since then, all children of Sierren…”
“…Have been able to choose what they want to do for themselves?”
Rubel nodded, and I hummed in response.