Chapter Ten: The Calm Before the Storm
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Yohan slowly opened his eyes. Sunlight streaming through the window was warm and bright.
"Mm."
Half-asleep, he sat up in bed and turned his head. Francia was soundly asleep beside him.
'…I ended up drinking more than I planned last night.'
He didn't have a hangover since he stopped drinking just before hitting his limit, but his whole body felt stiff.
'Drinking always makes me lose myself.'
Whenever he drank, Yohan tended to lose control, acting on impulse and forgetting the events of the previous night. But the sweet memory of the night he spent with Francia was crystal clear.
The moment they entered the hotel room, he embraced her, laid her on the bed, and cast aside his clothes, claiming every part of her.
Though she had pleaded for a break midway, saying it was too much, Yohan, with only half his senses intact, hadn't granted her request.
The result of that night:
"Mmm…"
Even though it was nearing noon, Francia was still fast asleep. Judging by how deeply she slept, it seemed the night had drained her both mentally and physically.
'…I need to hold back more.'
Though it was a day off, it seemed he'd pushed her too far.
'Time to get myself together.'
Yohan headed to the bathroom, washed up, and fixed his disheveled hair while looking into the mirror with silver lining.
Swoosh—
When he returned, Francia, her eyes half-closed, was awake and sitting up.
"Awake already?"
"Yeah…"
Francia's neck was covered in red bite marks, the result of Yohan's passionate affection the night before. Feeling embarrassed, Yohan quietly poured a glass of water and handed it to her.
"You must be thirsty. Here, drink this."
"Ah, thank you, Yohan."
Francia, still groggy, gave him a warm smile and emptied the glass in one go. It seemed her throat was parched from all the moans she'd let out during the night.
Yohan asked, "It's a day off today. Do you have any plans?"
"Plans…? Not really…"
Francia smirked mischievously.
"Maybe spending the whole day with Yohan?"
"Same plan as me, then."
"Hehe… Yawn."
Though she chuckled, she suddenly let out a yawn. Her voice had been dragging since earlier; it seemed she still hadn't fully woken up.
"If you're tired, you should rest more."
"Nooo… I need to get up…"
With her eyes half-shut, she stumbled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, holding her waist. Seeing her stagger like that filled Yohan with guilt.
"Should I help you?"
"It's fine. I'm just a bit sore."
Francia gave him a soft smile and disappeared into the bathroom.
Click.
As she left his sight, Yohan's thoughts drifted to the events of the previous day.
'Drinking really made me bold.'
He'd gripped the Crown Prince's hand tightly during their handshake, sending a clear signal: Stay away from Francia.
Knowing how perceptive the Crown Prince was, he was certain the message had been received.
Though Fedelian had played it off smoothly at the time, Yohan had no doubt he would be harboring resentment.
'I don't regret it.'
On the contrary, Yohan felt it had worked out well. The Crown Prince's focus would now shift from Francia to him.
'If he's going to make a move…'
It would likely be during the reconnaissance mission to the demonic lair in a few days. The timing was perfect for someone like Fedelian to eliminate a Special-Class Mage without leaving a trace.
"Confronting his schemes head-on is the best approach."
If Yohan could escape the trap unscathed and let the Crown Prince know he was aware of his intentions, even someone of Fedelian's status would have to tread carefully.
Turning the tables on his enemy would buy him time to deal with Cassis and Rudella more effectively.
While Yohan was lost in thought, stroking his chin and refining his plans—
Click.
The bathroom door opened. Francia emerged, surrounded by steam, adjusting her slightly loosened white robe. She tilted her head at him.
"Is something wrong? You look serious."
"No, I was just wondering what we should have for lunch."
"Oh, really? Even Yohan thinks about such simple things."
Francia chuckled softly and sat down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Last night, I felt so full of you, Yohan. I was so happy."
"I felt the same."
"Of course, you would."
Though she was known to others for her cold, sharp demeanor, Francia showed a softer side to Yohan alone.
She asked, "What should we do for a meal?"
"Since walking might be difficult for you, it's best to eat here at the hotel."
"Mm. I like that thoughtful side of you. Bonus points for that."
As Francia smiled, Yohan immediately picked up the summoning artifact next to the bed.
"Then I'll call for room service now."
"Alright."
Francia leaned into the warmth of the moment, almost overwhelmed by the joy she felt. She wondered if she even deserved this happiness.
***
Clip. Clop.
A woman walked down a corridor steeped in heavy silence.
Clip. Clop.
Her steps carried no hesitation, no fear. With a cold expression, she crossed the hallway and headed toward a particular room.
Clip. Clop.
The sound of her heels echoed through the shadowed corridor, faintly illuminated by moonlight. Her silvery hair shimmered softly, mirroring the glow of the moon, and her piercing blue eyes flickered like the unwavering orb in the night sky.
Clack!
An arched door creaked open, revealing a lavish room. Without hesitation, she stepped inside and threw back the covers of the bed.
A man and a woman lay entangled, their bodies bare.
"…Rudella?"
Awoken abruptly, the man frowned and shot her a glare.
"Your Highness, did you enjoy your indulgence?"
The woman—Rudella Bismarck—alternated her icy gaze between Crown Prince Fedelian Rozino and the other woman.
"Eek!"
The woman, who had been resting her head on Fedelian's arm, gasped in fright and scrambled to gather her clothes.
"…"
Rudella said nothing, merely watching her with frosty, contempt-filled eyes. The woman's trembling hands moved faster as she gathered her things.
"P-Pardon me!"
She fled the room in haste, and Rudella finally opened her crimson-painted lips.
"Are you not tired of this yet?"
"Tired of what?"
"Do you truly not know what I mean?"
"I've no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about bringing other women into your bed."
Her blue eyes glimmered, cold and devoid of any discernible emotion, reflecting the moonlight.
"Haha, so that's what this is about?"
Fedelian ran a hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs, and tilted his head lazily.
"This is all because you reject me. It's not entirely my fault."
Grit.
The sound of Rudella grinding her teeth filled the room.
Fedelian, however, paid no mind, reclining leisurely against the headboard of the bed.
"So, what brings you here today?"
"I heard you've summoned the Dark Mages."
Fedelian arched an eyebrow in mild surprise.
"And?"
"Do you truly not understand the implications?"
Rudella swallowed a silent sigh before continuing.
"Your Highness, you must not associate too closely with Dark Mages. You are destined to be the emperor who rules an empire higher than the heavens themselves. You must—"
"Alright, that's enough."
His dismissive tone made her lips twitch.
He went on.
"Do you know why I dislike you? It's because you're so inflexible. You're my fiancée, yet you insist on staying pure before marriage, refuse to share a bed with me, and nitpick every single one of my actions."
With a look of distaste, Fedelian shook his head.
"If you keep behaving this way, you'll exhaust even the most patient person. Who would want to deal with such a rigid personality? Who would want to deal with such a cold and inflexible woman?"
His words grew sharper.
"If it weren't for the Emperor arranging our engagement, you'd have been discarded long ago. What could anyone hope to gain from someone so dull, so utterly lacking in charm?"
His pointed words pierced her chest like blades.
"Well, your appearance is at least passable."
Clench. Rudella unconsciously bit her lip, her fists tightening until her nails dug into her palms. Blood began to seep from the small wounds.
"…Your Highness."
"Ah, that's enough."
Fedelian waved her off, his voice bored.
"If you're just here to nag me, save it. I'm not listening. Give up and leave already."
Her blue eyes darkened, growing colder. Rudella Bismarck, the Crown Prince's fiancée and the woman destined to become the future Empress, steadied her breathing and bowed her head quietly.
"…I wish you a safe return from today's reconnaissance of the Demon's Lair."
With that, she turned and left the room.
In the moonlit corridor, the sound of a deep sigh echoed softly.
***
The Next Morning.
At the training grounds, knights and soldiers gathered to inspect their weapons.
At first glance, it seemed like a peaceful scene, but their faces were tense and grim.
"Attention, everyone!"
Crown Prince Fedelian ascended the central platform of the training grounds and shouted loudly.
"Today marks another routine reconnaissance mission to the Demonic Cave! It is also a time for you to serve the empire and the people who grant you your rights!"
The knights and soldiers fixed their gaze on him.
"This is a dangerous mission where you may lose your lives, but you are the brave knights and soldiers of the empire! Do not fear! I, Crown Prince Fedelian Rozino, will protect you!"
He drew his sword and held it high. The sunlight reflected off the golden hilt, and the blade's brilliance evoked the image of a supernova.
"Hooah!"
"Long live His Highness!"
Fedelian continued his speech.
"You will survive! You will reunite with your families! You will return to your warm homes! Are you all prepared?"
The morale of the knights and soldiers soared as they shouted in unison.
"Yes!"
Fedelian smirked.
"Prepare for departure!"
As soon as his command rang out, the knights and soldiers began moving in perfect coordination. The grim expressions they wore earlier had long since faded.
'…So, he can deliver speeches like this.'
Yohan, who had already completed his preparations and was waiting for Francia, furrowed his brow.
'Maybe he's not a Crown Prince for nothing.'
From what he'd seen in the past, Fedelian had seemed like nothing more than a deranged fool obsessed with Francia. However, it appeared that he wasn't entirely useless in public settings.
'Well, he does have exceptional skills as a top-class knight.'
Just then, someone tapped Yohan lightly on the back.
"Guess who!"
It was Francia, smiling brightly as she met his gaze.
"Are you all ready?"
"Yes. I've packed my gear and potions."
Yohan glanced at her auxiliary bag. While it didn't contain much, it was likely enough, given that the knights would protect her.
"Though, it's a shame we're in different units. Is it because I'm an Special-Class Mage?"
"Probably. There's no need for two Special-Class Mage in the same unit."
Of course, the crown prince's personal preferences might have played a part in the decision.
It made sense to avoid placing two Special-Class Mage in the same unit, but sending their units in completely opposite directions was another matter entirely.
"Oh, by the way, there's something I need to tell you."
"What is it?"
"Be cautious of the young Duke Lenokhohnen."
Francia's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Why?"
"He has a bad reputation."
"The rumors of him being a war demon?"
"Exactly."
"Hmm…"
Though she found it curious, she nodded at Yohan's warning.
"Understood. I'll be careful."
"Good."
Yohan smiled at her and turned his gaze forward. The reconnaissance of the Demonic Cave was about to begin.
"…"
Francia watched his back, deep in thought.
'How does Johan know Cassis Lenokhohnen is dangerous?'
It was true that the young duke was rumored to be a merciless "war demon," devoid of compassion.
But would that alone warrant a warning? No. Yohan wasn't the type to believe idle gossip.
At that moment, Francia formed a hypothesis.
'…Could he vaguely remember a past that's been erased?'