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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: How a Prince Makes Friends
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Determined to chase away that weasel bastard, Evan suddenly felt like his true intentions had been exposed and hastily tried to change the subject.
Come to think of it,
"Why's your speech suddenly sounding like some old kid?"
"Old kid? Couldn't find anything better to nitpick?"
Nihil shot back like that, then lowered his gaze, propped his chin on his hand, and started tapping his lower lip a beat behind the rhythm.
Evan actually had more to say about that habit of his—endless tops with no bottom in sight—but seeing him lost in thought, he promptly shut his mouth.
Only after a long while did the guy seem to sort out his thoughts, lifting his head to meet Evan's eyes.
"It's a habit."
What the hell? Was he saying having no particular speech pattern was his habit?
Evan couldn't make heads or tails of the cryptic remark and furrowed his brows, jutting his chin as if demanding a proper explanation.
Nihil found it annoying to explain in detail but decided to indulge him as a reward for sending him off to bed early.
"This way of talking? It's just me mimicking yours. Haven't been speaking long."
"What, like a baby? Just learned to talk?"
[You're not one to talk, barely twenty yourself.]
"...?"
Evan tilted his head at the sudden unfamiliar language. Some foreign tongue?
Nihil smirked at Evan's confusion and continued his explanation.
"It's not like I consciously copy it, but simply put, I've assimilated. Outsiders get eyed with suspicion or exploited everywhere, so I end up unconsciously mimicking the other person's speech to blend in like a local. Haven't been in this kingdom long, so the accent's still unfamiliar—makes my speech shift quickly. Once enough time passes and I get used to the local accent, it won't change so easily. Don't worry about it."
Evan mulled it over.
It felt oddly like a child with halting speech imitating their guardian. In this guy's case, it seemed like an unconscious survival instinct, but if he thought about it, didn't that mean his current rude speech patterns came from mimicking Evan or His Highness?
Pushing aside the nagging discomfort, Evan asked about something else that piqued his curiosity.
"So you haven't been in Harpen long?"
"Harpen's the kingdom's name?"
"...Where were you before that?"
"Probably..., the Empire."
"How'd you cross without an ID? Smuggled in?"
"...."
The guy fell silent for a moment. Looked like illegal entry for sure.
Evan felt a rush of glee at finding a legal way to easily boot out the arrogant weasel, but he schooled his expression into sternness and pressed on.
"How exactly did you cross?"
Under Evan's grilling, Nihil hesitated before finally speaking, eyes still downcast.
"...Got caught by human traffickers..., handed over to a pirate ship disguised as a merchant vessel."
"...."
Evan clamped his mouth shut. He'd nearly become an irredeemable scum, gleeful at kicking out some poor kid abducted by illegal traffickers.
A brief silence fell, and Evan, feeling the tiniest speck of remorse, toned down his aggression a notch.
"What?"
With no reply from Evan, Nihil looked up to meet his eyes. The kid who'd supposedly been trafficked and kidnapped remained utterly expressionless.
"...Nah. They brand you with a slave mark or anything?"
"No chance. Blew up the pirate ship and escaped. Burned real nice."
"...."
Evan was at a loss for words again.
The guy who'd seemed just a tad pitiful suddenly proved he was no ordinary sort after all. Definitely dangerous. Then it hit him—the pirate ship explosion from just about ten days ago.
"That was around ten days back, wasn't it?"
"Roughly..., yeah."
"...."
Was that blast this guy's doing? It was big enough to draw direct royal involvement.
A massive merchant ship from some Eastern Empire conglomerate, loaded with illegal slaves. What they'd thought was just a trade vessel turned out to be a pirate ship stuffed not only with slaves but drugs and stolen goods too—causing an uproar in both the Eastern Empire and the kingdom.
Turns out it had no ties to the conglomerate itself, but the pirate crew was so huge the investigation was still ongoing.
"Anything else you're curious about?"
"...."
"If not, quit bothering me. I don't wanna hear that old kid crap either."
Obviously, he meant that if Evan kept chatting, he might end up stuck with this old-kid speech as a habit—better shut up.
Evan had plenty more to say but decided against probing further. The deeper he dug into the guy's past, the harder it'd be to shake him off. A bad premonition told him human trafficking was just the tip of the iceberg.
"Oh, and if you really gotta talk to me, do it like a five- or six-year-old kid."
"...."
Damn weasel pup.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Dinner's here!"
Thankfully, Lianus emerged from the bathroom soon after, sparing Evan from smacking Nihil upside the head. The food hadn't cooled much either.
Evan naturally seated Lianus in a chair and carefully dried his hair with a towel.
No maids around, huh? Guess the guard knight often played attendant.
"Nil, sit already. Hungry, right? Sir Evan too. You only had one sandwich all day."
Evan hesitated briefly but, as if it weren't his first time, cautiously took a seat.
Nihil picked up the cloak he'd been sitting on, draped it over a chair, and settled in the spot farthest from Lianus.
A considerate act, sparing the freshly washed and fluffy prince from his own grimy self.
Lianus, oblivious to the gesture, feigned disappointment at first but spotted the meat-heavy dishes nearby and figured he must really love meat. Praising his past self for ordering "lots and lots of meat," he heartily tore into a duck leg with his hands.
Hardly proper dining etiquette, but he'd started doing it on purpose back when his commoner knight—unused to noble table manners—looked so burdened at meals. Just until he got comfortable.
This time, the consideration was for Nihil, of course. Evan now understood the intent and didn't stop him.
Meanwhile, he had no clue Nihil was inwardly pondering, 'Do I have to teach the prince manners first?'
The clueless young prince pushed a plate of steak toward his new friend, urging him to eat up.
Nihil pondered for a split second but, stomach growling, decided to dig in.
'Tastes good.'
Who knew how long since a proper meal? Etiquette be damned—he'd been ripping into whole rabbit roasts not long ago. Who cared about prettily holding forks and knives?
Lianus beamed contentedly at Nihil silently clearing his plate, thinking how lucky he was to be a prince. At least he could stuff his friend full of meat.
By the time Evan marveled at Nihil inhaling food like a vacuum—on his third plate—the guy paused, crammed his cheeks full, polished it off, stacked the empties, and slyly shoved them toward Evan.
Then he glanced at the door, grabbed his fork and knife in one hand, snatched the cloak he'd sat on, bolted to the terrace, and frantically shut the window.
The cloak caught in the frame, popping it open once more before closing. The other two just sat there, dumbfounded, watching Nihil's bizarre sprint mid-meal without lifting a finger.
Then Lianus caught the sound of footsteps.
"Someone's coming."
At Lianus's quiet murmur, Evan's ears finally picked it up too.
Light, pattering steps. Probably a young maid.
Evan inwardly admired the weasel's animal instincts. It wasn't inaudible if you listened closely, but catching it mid-feast required not just sharp hearing but constant vigilance.
Evan quickly straightened Nihil's chair and rearranged the blatantly piled food on one side of the table.
A knock soon followed.
As Lianus, a bit tense, called her in, a young maid with twin tails entered carrying a tray with two glasses of juice.
"Your Highness, you had quite a lot of meat late at night, so I blended some kiwi and pineapple to aid digestion. But..., looks like Sir Evan needs it more."
The maid let out a soft chuckle, eyeing the stack of empty plates in front of Evan. Suddenly painted as a gluttonous knight who'd scarfed down over three plates solo, Evan couldn't even protest. He accepted the juice with an awkward expression and mumbled thanks.
"His Highness must think the world of Sir Evan!"
No. Wronged here. This was the weasel's grub, not mine.
Evan flashed the maid an awkward smile and flicked his eyes toward his master.
Lianus grinned awkwardly too, rolling his eyes to dodge the knight's gaze before asking the maid to prepare plenty for tomorrow morning and sending her off.
The moment she left, the terrace window creaked open—as if he'd known. Nihil dashed back, brazenly snatched Evan's juice, and chugged it.
Then, cool as you like,
"Thought I'd choke to death."
"You...!"
Evan seethed, framed unjustly and now robbed of his juice right before his eyes.
Choke? With your cheeks stuffed like that, yeah!
"Why the hell are you drinking mine?!"
"Why? It was brought to help digest meat. Makes sense I—who ate the most—drink it."
"...."
Too logical. Evan was speechless. If it was purely for digestion, he had a point.
Evan stared dumbly at the weasel as he sat back down and speared another steak chunk.
Lianus, now the prince who dotes on his knight thanks to the maid's misunderstanding, eyed the two warily before—guilt pricked—sliding his own juice to Evan.
"Sir Evan, have this at least. Sorry I didn't take better care of you."
Evan had abruptly become the knight coveting his master's food.