[270] Teraze's Bloodline (3)
Uorin glanced at the wall clock, hurriedly set the cat down, and stood.
"Huh? It's time to eat. Brother, let's go."
Gion set his teacup down, stood, and leaned his face toward Shirone.
"I don't know what you were thinking coming here, but don't get your hopes up. Better not expect anything if you don't want to get hurt."
Shirone didn't even scoff.
"Let me be clear: I'm not expecting anything. I came simply because I want to meet my birth parents."
"Haha! Birth parents? Sure, that's important. But you know this, right? Once parents abandon a child, do you think they won't do it again if power's involved?"
Shirone frowned in confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
"How pathetic. Blood means nothing in the face of power. You really don't think your father suddenly sought you out without a reason, do you?"
Shirone had suspected there was some reason they'd come for him after eighteen years, but hearing Gion say it so bluntly struck him.
Uorin patted Gion's shoulder.
"Oh, come on! Hurry up. If you're late you'll get scolded."
Gion sneered at Shirone and was led out the door by his younger sister's hand.
Only after leaving Shirone alone did Gion turn back and click his tongue.
"Tch. What rotten luck. Especially his eyes—I don't like them. Maybe he's lived too vulgar a life? He should be quaking in his boots, not mouthing off like that."
Uorin soothed him.
"Don't be so harsh. I'm just happy to have a mage brother. He can't be my rival anyway. As long as Mother's here, the Kazra Kingdom belongs to Brother."
"Who doesn't know that? It's his manners I can't stand. I don't even like calling him father. Orcamp—that bastard. If I become king, I'll make sure he's gone."
Uorin puckered her lips.
In any country, the idea of a son killing his father is sacrilege. In a royal castle? If that voice got out, the whole kingdom would erupt.
But Uorin's reaction ended there.
They were Teraje's children.
@
The dishes at the royal table were more lavish than any commoner could dream of—even in their wildest nightmares.
Shirone felt there was no need to spend that much on food every day, but in truth, the royal family's virtue was conspicuous excess: they displayed luxury even when no one ate it.
Every trivial thing the royals used had to surpass the nobility's. As long as nobles indulged, the royals' even-more-absurd extravagance would remain uncorrected.
Shirone and his group sat at the lower end of the table. Vincent and his wife looked pale, as did Rena and Amy.
None of them had expected to be invited to the king's table.
Perhaps it was the first time in Kazra's hundred-year history.
That made everyone more anxious; some were so nervous they didn't even know where the food was going down.
The atmosphere at the table was icy.
Orcamp's pride had been wounded by the breach of protocol; Shirone and Gion were upset by their earlier conversation in the room.
Only Eliza seemed in good spirits—she'd liked the outfit she'd chosen in the dressing room. She wore a dress trimmed with sable on the sleeves and had picked diamonds for accessories.
Eliza, who had been picking at her food as if trying to dissect it atom by atom, suddenly put down her utensils and brightened into a radiant smile.
"We should redecorate Shirone's room. Make it lavish and splendid. Since he's blond like you, we should order a navy suit too. Oh, and a carriage—he'll need a carriage. Things will be hectic for a while."
Olina's face went dark. None of that was something she could provide.
Shirone spoke up as if deciding on something.
"There's no need. What my foster parents have given me so far is enough."
"Heh heh, our son is thrifty, isn't he? But there's royal dignity to consider; he can't live as he did before. Let's see… gold would suit you. No, sapphires?"
"Gold or jewels aren't what matters. These people raised me. They taught me how to live from childhood to now. They stood in for my birth parents."
Eliza's brow tightened. What could be more important than gold and jewels? It was their duty to enjoy the kingdom's greatest wealth. It wasn't a privilege but an obligation.
She was lecturing him on royal duties even before declaring him first prince, and she couldn't stomach her son praising the love of a wet nurse.
No—perhaps Shirone simply had too much affection. He couldn't tell his wet nurse he'd be fine on his own in front of her.
Eliza turned to Shirone's parents.
"Vincent, was it?"
Vincent hastily set his utensils down.
"Ah—yes! Arian Vincent is my name!"
"I will give you separate recompense. You raised our son well and deserve compensation. Money would be too cumbersome to hand over—darling, how about some land in the Cosent region?"
Orcamp said in a disinterested tone.
"That would be fine."
Shirone felt rage swell inside him. They had come to the castle on the royal family's terms. Vincent and Olina were frantic about losing their child. The only real gift they could receive in that situation was the pride of having raised him well.
He wanted those lofty people wearing the royal crest to say a simple thank you for raising their son. Was it really that hard to say?
"Wait a moment. Why do you keep talking like that? You raised me for eighteen years. You are the parents who taught me how to live in place of my birth parents since I was small."
Eliza's face hardened. They were, of course, sorry to have abandoned him. But she'd been siding with the vulgar from earlier, and that irritated her.
"Too small a reward? Then we'll build a small castle on the land—"
Shirone's voice rose.
"That's not what I mean! Why have you never said thank you?"
Eliza looked blank. At first she wondered if there was something wrong with Shirone's head. Why should the royal family ever be expected to thank commoners?
Gion, clearly uncomfortable, snapped.
"How vulgar. Do you think this is the same table you used to sit at as a commoner?"
Shirone glared at Gion. Anger rose, but Gion had a point—if Shirone pushed too hard in front of the royals, things could go badly.
Uorin quickly stepped in to calm things.
"Oh, come on. Brother Shirone is just too kind. I think he values feelings more than things. If feelings aren't conveyed, then rewards are merely an exchange of objects."
In that moment, Shirone found Uorin utterly endearing. How grateful he was that she said what he'd wanted to say.
Uorin winked at Shirone, then addressed Vincent and Olina.
"Sorry for piling on. And thank you so much for raising our eldest brother so wonderfully."
"Oh, no. We—how could we—"
Vincent trembled with gratitude. He'd never dreamed he'd be thanked by royalty in his life.
Shirone's expression softened. He felt a little guilty for having misjudged Uorin.
Rena, however, was shocked. Uorin was a princess of the Teraje house. The emperors of the Kashan Empire had traditionally been women from the Teraje line.
Gion was limited to ruling a kingdom, but Uorin, if she cleared a few rivals, could become emperor of Kashan and rule the continent. So aside from Kazra's politics, Uorin's actual power would be overwhelming.
A child with that kind of power expressing gratitude to commoners was astonishing; from another angle, it revealed a strong, conqueror's temperament.
As Rena had predicted, Uorin's words carried enormous influence. When she elevated Vincent and Olina, even Orcamp, who'd sat silent, could not help but support her.
"Perhaps we were thinking too much like royalty. We are grateful to you."
Vincent bowed again.
"Oh, no. We only did what was natural."
A flash of anger crept into Olina's eyes. A woman's intuition told her Uorin's words were sincere, but Orcamp's were not.
Of course he hadn't carried Shirone in his womb. But he had raised him for eighteen years, filling his son's heart with a love deeper than blood.
If Shirone could be happy, Olina would gladly let him go with his birth parents. Yet the arrival of the world's perfect parents did not feel good.
"We don't need money. We only wish for Shirone's happiness."
Shirone looked at Olina in surprise.
Unlike moments ago when he'd been cowed by royal prestige, there was now a quiet steel in his voice.
Eliza, sharp as ever, didn't miss the shift. Her face crumpled. She could tolerate Shirone, but she wouldn't stand for a wet nurse stepping forward so brazenly.
Still, she couldn't eject them outright—Uorin's words still held sway.
From Eliza's perspective, Teraje was a hateful rival who'd stolen her husband. She wasn't foolish enough to ignore the power gap and act rashly. So she resorted to petty vengeance in a condescending tone.
"Still, accept it. I don't want you changing your mind later."
Olina neither accepted nor refused; she only bowed. But her gaze stayed fixed on Eliza.
Sensing the situation could spiral, Shirone decided to bring up the key point.
"Actually, there's something I want to say."
Eliza, apparently wanting to lighten the mood, quickly switched expressions and offered a nervous smile.
"All right, say it. Mama will hear you out for anything."
Olina's mood darkened further. Eliza's words carried a sneer: no matter how much you play the part of a mother, you're still beneath us and Shirone is royal.
"I don't intend to be heir to the Kazra Kingdom. I already discussed it with Gion. So let me stay a while and then let me return to Tormia."
All the cutlery froze. Orcamp's face grew serious; Eliza was left mouth agape.
"What do you mean, Shirone? This is your home now. You don't need to go back to that shabby place."
"I want to go back. Or at least let me finish the school I'm attending now."
Shirone produced his magic school enrollment card. He honestly wanted to leave the castle immediately, but doing so could endanger his foster parents.
"No! That's absolutely impossible! You're of royal blood! There are magic schools in Kazra too—I'll introduce you to the finest tutors."
"I'll be taking my graduation exam next year. This is the most important time for me. Give me just one year."
He had no intention of returning after a year. Once out of here safely, he planned to graduate from the magic school and run away with his parents.
Uorin backed Shirone again.
"I understand how Brother Shirone feels. He has friends at school. Networking matters, too."
"What kind of networking with the nobles? You should be associating with the royal family."
Eliza was adamant. How could she, having found her son, let him leave again? Above all, her pride was mortified that her position as mother could be overshadowed by commoners.
After a pause, Orcamp spoke.
"I will consider it."
"Eliza!"
She snapped at him harshly, but fell silent when she felt the chill in her husband's eyes.
Orcamp couldn't fathom handing his son back to woodsmen. It would be a royal disgrace. Yet the Teraje faction was here. If he forced Shirone to stay, Teraje might see it as disrespect.
Rena finally understood Shirone's strategy.
The Teraje faction being the most dangerous meant they were also the most powerful. Rather than oppose them outright, Shirone intended to use their strength to achieve his aims.
'Smart, indeed.'
At first she'd worried he was too impulsive, but this was not a man to rush into an unwinnable fight.
Having his foster parents at the royal table, and boldly declaring his wish to leave in such a setting—those were choices Shirone could make precisely because Teraje's children were present.
In the end, Orcamp had no choice but to back down a step.
"Shirone, all the circumstances point to you being my son. I believe it too. But it hasn't been definitively verified."
He meant he needed solid proof. It wasn't something usually said now, but Shirone had anticipated it; his words would reassure the Teraje faction.
"So how about this? The verification of the first prince must follow procedure. We will conduct a paternity test. If we start tomorrow, it will take about four days to get the results. Until then, think things over."
Shirone didn't like stalling, but taking a hard line against royalty from the outset had never been feasible.
"All right. I'll think it through carefully too."
A vast array of dishes had been served at the royal table, but no one could later remember that day's menu.