Chapter 37 - Snow White's Son

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A year and a half had passed since Duke Philip Ragnarcris ascended to the throne as the new king. Though his wife was a former royal and cousin to Queen Snow White, Philip himself did not carry the blood of the Green Valley royal family, and opposition had naturally arisen before his coronation. Many feared that, with two successive kings from the neighboring kingdom of Auden, Green Valley might soon fall under its dominion.

 

However, Philip's reputation for honesty and kindness, along with the grace and intelligence of his wife and children, had won the hearts of the people. His popularity soared, especially after learning that he avenged Crown Prince Kyle by vanquishing the Herald of Hell, a beast that had plagued the kingdom for many long years. Now, Philip stood as a new beacon of hope for the kingdom of Green Valley.

 

"You've painted the roof red, haven't you? Did you both really do it yourselves?" King Philip asked as he visited the hidden forest home of his nephews.

 

"It's a bright and cheerful color, isn't it? We worked together for half a month to finish it," Kyle replied with a soft smile.

 

Kyle and his beloved brother Snow White lived in a humble cottage they had built beside the old tower in the heart of the forest. They had connected the two with a doorway they fashioned through the stone wall of the tower. Depending on the season or the presence of wild beasts, they would alternate between the cozy warmth of the cottage and the safety of the tower's upper chambers.

 

"I must say, every time I visit, I'm astonished. In the beginning, neither of you knew how to light a hearth, milk a cow, chop wood, or even hammer a nail... and now look at you." Philip marveled as he took a generous bite of the blueberry pie Kyle had offered.

 

After savoring it for a moment, his eyes widened. "This is delicious!"

 

The crust was made from fine graham flour, baked crisp, and filled with sweet, tangy blueberries they had foraged from the forest, mixed with a dollop of homemade sour cream.

 

Kyle, sitting across from Philip, exchanged a glance with Snow White, who sat shyly at his side, smiling modestly.

 

"We baked it together," Kyle explained. "Though I only helped a little. Thanks to the cooks and maids you sent us, we've gradually learned to cook and keep house."

 

Philip nodded, his brow furrowed slightly with concern. "And you've reduced their visits to just once a week? Surely that must be too much work for you both."

 

"It's plenty," Kyle assured him with a smile. "After all, we're no longer princes."

 

Now, with new work to occupy his days, Kyle's tone was serene. Snow White, who had grown a little in the past year and a half, looked at his uncle with wide, shining eyes. "I want to find work like my brother. I want to become a confectioner. If I make pastries that last, the traveling merchants will buy them from me," he said, his voice filled with hope.

 

The blueberry pie before them was a product of Snow White's own hands, baked with a recipe he had learned from the castle's chefs. The brothers had harvested the blueberries themselves and made jam, though not without a bit of chaos when a swarm of bees, lured by the scent of the boiling fruit, descended upon them.

 

"So, Kyle is a writer, and you, a confectioner," Philip said with a fond sigh. "Such carefree lives you lead... I almost envy you."

 

"I'm sorry, Uncle, for leaving all the burdens to you," Kyle said softly.

 

Snow White quickly added, "That's my line, Uncle. We're sorry."

 

Kyle chuckled and affectionately ruffled Snow White's hair, which had once been long enough to cascade from the top of the tower to the ground below, but now remained trimmed short. In contrast, Kyle had grown his golden hair long, ready to alter his appearance in case they were ever seen. He also kept a black leather eyepatch in his pocket, ever prepared for unexpected visitors like wandering merchants or travelers who occasionally came too close.

 

"I hear your latest novel is quite popular," Philip said, changing the subject. "They say it paints a vivid picture of the old days of royal and noble society. It's been well-received, not just by the aristocracy, but by the common folk as well—especially the young maidens, who find it quite romantic. I'm a fan myself and look forward to your next work."

 

"Thank you. If it brings a bit of joy to the people, that's all I could wish for." Kyle replied, a touch of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. The thought of his uncle reading the love stories he penned made him feel somewhat shy, and he found himself understanding Snow White's earlier bashfulness over the pie.

 

"You've gained such a wonderful admirer, haven't you, Brother?" Snow White chimed in, his eyes gleaming.

 

"Ah, it is quite... a peculiar sensation, to be honest," Kyle admitted, feeling even more flustered under Snow White's warm gaze. Yet the praise from his uncle filled him with pride, and his work brought him a deep sense of fulfillment.

 

Though Kyle had spent much of his personal fortune on treating Snow White's eyes, leaving their finances uncertain when they first left the castle, he had found great joy in writing. Despite still having a meager income, the very thought that someone, somewhere, was reading his stories and feeling happiness, filled his heart with warmth, as if a great burden had been lifted from his soul.

 

In the beginning, though, life had been hard. He and Snow White had stumbled their way through daily tasks, often bewildered and frantic. But with his uncle's support, they learned how to live on their own, and now they enjoyed a peaceful existence.

 

"Uncle, Green Valley has long suffered under Father's poor rule, so even now, I imagine you face many challenges. I am deeply grateful that you have allowed us this freedom," Kyle said earnestly.

 

Philip waved it off with a gentle smile. "Do not worry yourself. I do not find it burdensome at all. Besides, I can still come and see you from time to time and seek your advice. It was not your role, as my brother's son, to clean up the mess he left behind. That is my duty, as someone who served at his side yet could do nothing to prevent it. Kyle... I will continue to need your help."

 

Kyle bowed his head. "Of course... but I don't see it as offering advice. To me, it's just idle conversation."

 

"Even so," Philip replied, "when I speak with you, I remember your father as he was in better times, and I regain the passion I had when I first came to this land. Though I was born the fourth prince of Auden, I believe I was destined to live for this kingdom."

 

"Uncle..." Kyle murmured, his heart stirred by Philip's fervent gaze.

 

As he looked into those eyes, he couldn't help but think of his father. Before the tragedy that twisted his mind, King Priss, who did not carry the blood of Green Valley, had tried with all his heart to be a just ruler for the people. If not for his distorted love and the grief that followed, it might have been his father sitting across from Kyle now, sharing such heartfelt words.

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