Chapter 12 - The Mermaid Princess's Little Brother

Translator's Note:

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By the time he climbed into the carriage and reached the town beneath the castle, the sky had already darkened. Unsure of when the shops would close, Rito hurried to find the shop, following Elsa's directions. Thanks to the nearby landmarks, he did not face the difficulties he had feared. The passersby wore friendly expressions, and if he lost his way, he could easily ask for directions. On every street, the shops displayed their signs, lanterns glowing brightly, while the cobblestone roads were smooth and well-kept. Gazing upon this town, one could easily imagine the prosperous life of the kingdom's people.

 

(Here it is… I've found it.)

 

Rito smiled broadly as he stood before the place marked on the map he'd drawn in his mind. After he spoke with the local master and left the brooch, his task for the day would be done. Once he knew the date of the repair's completion, he would return to the palace and inform Elsa tomorrow.

 

The young man knocked on the door of the pawnshop and stepped into the still-open store. Behind the counter stood a young man.

 

"Good evening. I have an item I'd like repaired. Is the master craftsman who once worked at the palace here?"

 

Rito's voice trembled slightly as he asked, feeling nervous. The young man behind the counter seemed far too youthful to be a retired master craftsman.

 

"First, show me the item," said the young man, whose skin and hair were of the common hue in this land. "My father won't accept a job unless it's worth his time."

 

"Ah, so you're the son of the master?"

 

Relieved, Rito patted his chest, easing his nerves. He pulled the brooch from his pocket and placed the small box on the counter. The young man opened it with care, turning it to inspect the brooch inside.

 

"I didn't mention it earlier, but I work at the palace."

 

"Oh, I see. Both the box and the brooch bear the royal family's crest."

 

"Yes, this piece is important to His Highness, Glen. I'd like it repaired as soon as possible."

 

As soon as Rito uttered these words, the young man raised his right hand above his head. A rope hung from the ceiling, and he grabbed it, yanking it several times to and fro. Instantly, a jarring sound echoed from a bell overhead, so loud it made Rito cover his ears in alarm. He had no idea what was happening.

 

"Please, stop!" he cried instinctively.

 

"It's the guards!" the young man shouted.

 

Before the bell had stopped ringing, the door to the shop was flung open. In rushed several patrolmen, clad in red and black uniforms. It all happened in an instant.

 

"There's a problem! A palace servant is trying to pawn a brooch with the royal crest! He lied, saying it was a keepsake from his parents and demanded urgent money!"

 

"What? He stole a royal item and wanted to pawn it?!"

 

"So, that's what foreigners are like! How bold!"

 

"No, that's not true!" Rito wanted to shout, but he was too stunned to speak. Surrounded by the guards who filled the small shop, he was arrested before he could even gather his thoughts. Unable to make a sound, he was dragged outside.

 

A voice in the crowd murmured, "A thief?" Then two others shouted louder, "A thief!" "Throw him in jail!"

 

"...N-no! I'm not a thief!" Rito finally managed to cry out, denying the accusations. But it was too late. The angry yells of the patrolmen and the jeers of the townsfolk drowned his voice. He was seized, bound, and his pockets searched.

 

"Hey! Pearls! He's got fine pearls on him!"

 

"He must've stolen those from the palace too! Planned to pawn them!"

 

"No! These are my tears!" he wanted to shout, but before the words could escape him, a gag was shoved into his mouth. A hood was pulled over his head, plunging him into darkness, and panic took hold of him. He didn't understand why this was happening, and yet he was already being dragged away. He stumbled, fell, crawled, only to be yanked up, stumbling again.

 

A stone hurled from the crowd struck him in the forehead, and soon it was impossible to tell if the wetness on his face was from tears or blood.

 

***

 

It had been two weeks since Rito, the Queen's page, had left the palace. Prince Glen Christian Ander, the first prince of the southern kingdom of Fyun, was drowning in sorrow as his wedding day loomed only ten days away. Though his health had seemed fine, lately he had often felt unwell, and his sleep was plagued by restless dreams. On the day he heard that Rito had resigned from his position and returned to his homeland in Oden, a deep loneliness settled over him, as if a part of his very soul had been lost.

 

Yet, he convinced himself that it was better for Rito's safety... beneath the loneliness, there was a sense of relief. He wished to avoid the pain of meeting Rito's eyes by chance after he was married. Glen believed it would only bring misfortune to all, including Elsa, for he could never love Rito, even in secret.

 

"Your Highness, are you there?"

 

"..."

 

As he sat reading on the balcony, he heard a voice call from below. It was Elsa's voice.

 

Though Glen had not been deeply focused on the book—his thoughts still tangled with Rito—he felt a pang of annoyance at being called from the garden. Not that there was anything wrong with Elsa, but their hearts never seemed to beat in the same rhythm. She called for him when he wished to be left alone, and when he sought conversation, she was nowhere to be found. He knew it was selfish of him, but the thought of spending countless years with her from this moment on weighed heavily upon him.

 

"Did you need something from me?"

 

Glen closed the book and peered over the balcony.

 

There stood Elsa, adorned in a gown of white silk, framed by the vibrant blooms of the spring flowerbed.

 

"Yes, the ministers wish to hear Your Highness' thoughts on the adornments for the wedding attire. If you are not otherwise occupied, they propose a meeting at once. With your permission, I too would like to join."

 

She smiled as she spoke, and for a moment, one might have thought she resembled a goddess of spring. Radiating a healthy beauty that rivaled the golden light of the sun, her bronzed skin shimmered like dusted gold, while the curve of her figure, especially the prominence of her bosom, drew the eyes of men. Yet, for Glen, there was no stirring of emotion. Rather, he found it all too contrived. When one begins to see calculation in someone's gaze, words, and actions, the charm of it all disappears.

 

"Elsa, I do not read books because I have nothing to do. I carve out time for reading."

 

"…Forgive me. You were occupied, were you not?"

 

"I shall come down now. If you wish to join, feel free," Glen responded with a cold detachment, unable even to feign a smile.

 

Once, he had played the role of the gentle and patient prince. Now, he could no longer summon a smile for anyone.

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