"Oi! Who said you could do as you damn well please?!"
"Ah, you caught me. So the General himself ends up coming after all."
At my angry roar, the First Prince turns around without a hint of guilt, a white-furred plant in hand.
"You too, stop him from leaving the city! Salvir!"
"I-I am terribly sorry! However, it is an extremely rare plant!"
"You think that's a fucking excuse!? Don't you realize you almost got killed?!"
"A place this high with such a clear view, you can't even set an ambush. Anyone approaching would definitely be spotted."
The familiar-faced Herry raises his heavy, bear-like body.
Seems he'd made arrangements; at a fixed distance away were guards—a mage with a green tail, and a sea-folk escort.
But we'd gone through the trouble of sending men from headquarters to guard him in place of those useless Imperial Guards.
And yet if the man himself slips through the cordon, there's nothing we can protect!
"Just get back to the city! And since when did you find out there were rare things in a place like this?! Don't expect to be let off just because you didn't get caught!"
"...I only snuck out for this plant this time."
There's clearly more to it, and he's trying to brush it off with a smile.
From the very first meeting, he'd had a brazen attitude of looking down on adults, thinking he wouldn't be caught.
From the moment we first met, he kept up a front; just a damn child, yet already scheming behind the scenes.
"...My own son still had a bit of brat in him at this age."
Saying he was preparing to head back, the First Prince starts doing something to the hairy plant.
At that prince's back, I find myself muttering as I picture my own son.
"Oh, right, he's over twenty now. What happened with his ears?"
Perhaps having nothing to do, Herry draws close.
He's the same age, joined around the same time; different division, but married around the same time too.
Only I had a political marriage with a noble due to family circumstances, while Herry lost his beloved wife to death.
If he hadn't quit after his wife's death, he might have been in my position this time.
"In the end they sprouted right up—ears just like mine on top of his head."
I'm a beastman, my wife's human, and despite it being political, she detested marriage to another race.
Being old-fashioned in this day and age—apparently the nobles call it "timelessly proper"—but if that's the case, then don't go blind for the money from my parents' trading company.
"So, you're still on bad terms?"
"Separate bedrooms since the honeymoon, no nights together after our son was born. I'm not unfaithful, but she makes a fuss hiding the ears that look like mine with hats, hairstyles, wigs. It's not just bad terms—she never had any intention of meeting me halfway from the start."
"That so? ...I thought I heard your son was a pretty obedient, good kid? Did he hit a rebellious phase?"
"Kids have that certain something, a cheeky charm. Well, despite being raised doted on by his mother, he turned out capable of treating me like a father. He followed instructions well, and even though his mother nagged, he'd sit at his desk to study without complaint."
On the flip side, there were times when even after I came home from work she'd make him study, and I'd fight with her saying it was too much.
At those times, my son would mediate, protect his mother saying he wanted to do it, and even thanked me for caring about him.
"...So why does that brat spout that His Highness is selfish? If he weren't a kid enduring for his parent's sake, would he accept a deployment like this?"
Herry was right; I knew from the start this dispatch was strange.
It wasn't the kind of matter the Imperial Army should be handling, so I suspected there was something behind it.
That's precisely why, when my father-in-law told me it was for the willful prince, I accepted it. I figured they'd flashily deploy the national army to humor and build authority for a willful prince, and that we'd be sent to some remote backwater with neither merit nor danger.
"Oi... isn't that prince supposed to have been abandoned by the Emperor?"
"Don't be stupid. They sent him off precisely so he wouldn't be seen that way."
His growling, earnest voice brings back my memory.
That Ketel, who became Emperor, had served under Herry and had his backing.
I have no direct connection, so he's someone I don't know, and it's common enough for people's personalities to change once they seize power.
Besides, that extravagance could also be seen as a final send-off precisely because they were discarding him, but perhaps it's best left unsaid.
I too had sent my son off with fanfare to encourage him—if people thought I'd sent him to his death, I'd lose my temper.
"Basically, if you'd lent an ear regarding the tent matter, His Highness wouldn't have thought to move while ignoring the General. He understands his role in moving the army, at least."
"That's exactly what's so un-childlike about him. If you're going to rely on someone, come at it with everything you've got. His unbearable smugness that he can manage anything on his own shines right through."
"He can actually do it, so it can't be helped. It was a situation where he had to handle it himself."
"Don't pin your own incompetence on him. You're the one who resigned yourself to that situation."
"Because you sloppily dumped troublesome matters onto your subordinates, you neglected His Highness's tent, and now you're the one mouthing off when you're facing a demerit report for certain? Why'd you ignore the fact there'd been no complaints about lodging up until then? That's practically dereliction of duty."
"Shut up. I can only think that him behaving quietly at first was him showing his true colors. A prince with nothing but rumors far worse than 'naughty brat' and not a single redeeming feature—there's no way he's not up to something, right?"
"Yes, yes, don't fight, you grown-ups. I'll be done with the preliminary processing soon."
At the light sound of a clap, I see the First Prince and his attendants looking this way with stunned eyes.
I'd been glaring at Herry and hadn't noticed, but apparently my breathing had grown ragged too.
And the prince in question, though he must have heard the criticism I'd spoken, was completely indifferent.
This is exactly why the impression of him is bad, and no effort to improve can be seen.
I suspect malicious cunning, as if he's deliberately being left alone to trap people.
In a word, he looks like nothing more than a bad person.
"Oi, hey. That's not the face a General of the national army should make toward a prince."
Herry, nudging me, seems to have been that prince's tutor—just how do you raise someone to turn out like that?
"Why didn't you teach him to fight?"
This time I ask in a lowered voice.
"Before I could teach him, His Highness realized the folly of fighting with family."
"Even after it's come to this, you still don't plan to teach him? It's like he's been abandoned to the frontier. Or do you plan to bury your bones here?"
"Of course not. I've come up with a proper plan. Besides, how would I teach him to fight here? Is that a way to steal command from you?"
"If you can do it, try it. I'll catch the prince and request a ruling, or use it as a reason to return to the imperial capital."
When I snapped back, Herry made a strange face.
"You and His Highness really don't mesh. He probably won't come at you head-on, so no matter what you prepare, it'll be useless, got it?"
"Why the hell are you pitying me? You seriously think I'll fall behind?"
There's a limit to insults.
Just as I was about to snap, Herry pulled me in by the neck with his thick arm.
"If he seriously tried to take it, His Highness would make you hand it over yourself. Could you even come up with such a method? Could you handle it? His brain is wired differently from ours. The enemy isn't even attacking. Watch His Highness's methods for once."
They say know the enemy and you will never be in peril in a hundred battles, but still, I can't stand this.
"You're still too soft; that's why your eyes are clouded. You haven't forgotten about the Imperial Guards, have you? Enemies coming to kill won't wait. Winning people over and strategizing only work when you have the leeway for them. Does that prince have any leeway to buy time?"
He has no strength, nor does he flaunt the authority given to him.
So he's looked down upon, yet he doesn't improve—staying weak on purpose, as if to say he knows exactly what he's doing.
"In this situation, staying quiet isn't defense. Sometimes showing an aggressive posture serves as a deterrent and protects you. Saying anything when you're only half-doing what you should be is nothing but worthless drivel that can't even serve as an excuse."
"Geez, you're short-tempered. His Highness has his methods. Up to here it's just travel; the main event he's eyeing is atop the mountain. Don't grumble before we've even reached the destination."
Herry completely disregards my warning.
But he should understand.
That as things stand, together with the prince in the shadows, he too will remain another shadow-dweller.
No matter how you dress it up, that's a failure.
He'll receive no evaluation from those around him, and deserves to be mocked for choosing such a master.
"Do you get it? Endurance isn't a virtue. It just means you aren't even rewarding those who follow you. You plan to end like that, in such misery?"
I turn from Herry, who doesn't get it, to look at the prince, who looks like he's playing around holding up the plant with Salvir.
The plant has a wet-looking sheen, and when held to the light, its inside seems transparent.
"Wait, oi! That's a different plant from the one you were picking earlier! Stop finding new ones! We're heading back, now!"
I end up yelling at the unrepentant prince again, but as expected, it has no effect.
"Jeez, that prince sure didn't come with any decent intentions. I can't even nod along with the idea that it's for his old man's sake."
"A son who holds his tongue out of consideration really makes you appreciate how tough being a parent is."
At his words, my son's face comes to mind.
He doesn't seem like the type to have as much hidden as the First Prince—maybe—but being caught between us husband and wife, he must have held back his own share of frustrations.
If the First Prince really did come with a plan, and if we could return to the imperial capital that we might never be able to go back to, then perhaps I should take the time to sit down and talk with my son.
I wanted him to be a son I could say was different from the First Prince—one who couldn't brush off even his own predicament as someone else's problem, one who could recognize that something wrong was wrong.
[1,700 Bookmarks Commemoration]