Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 99
Hall observed the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s expression, but Charlie didn’t show any signs of surprise or guilt. In fact, he was so composed that Hall began to doubt whether he was overthinking things.
Shiloh and Hasting watched curiously. Until now, the shopkeeper had never mentioned his family or siblings to them—perhaps he had mentioned it to the Duke, but the two often conversed privately, and the knights couldn’t just intrude to listen. So, it was rare for them to hear about this, and both were very attentive.
If it wasn’t deliberate, Charlie’s rabbit head made it difficult to discern various expressions. He wasn’t stumped by Hall’s question, but he was amused by Shiloh and Hasting’s demeanor.
“I did have a brother a long time ago,” he said. “It’s not something I intentionally hide—but it really is a matter of the distant past. We did look alike as children, but we separated before becoming adults, and we haven’t been in contact since.”
Now it was the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s turn to observe the expressions of the three young men. He didn’t know if all members of the Brandenburg Knights were required to come from good backgrounds, but clearly those he knew well were privileged, well-educated young people. Probing into someone’s reluctant secrets wasn’t gentlemanly behavior.
The more historically significant and socially elevated the family, the more likely they were to have private matters, and after subtly expressing a bit of discomfort, even Hall became somewhat restless.
They were all capable, but unfortunately, still too young.
For a moment, the cunning rabbit-headed shopkeeper felt like a manipulative adult, even considering just letting the matter slide—but thinking about their unforeseen encounter in Fortuna City on their way to White Bridge, and the potential for similar incidents in the future, plus Miss Priscilla’s ‘Ceylon’ being a troubling issue, he decided against it.
There were no walls without wind, and there was no point in weaving a lie that would inevitably be punctured.
“But when we lived together years ago, that wasn’t his name,” Charlie said carefully. “Of course, after so long, he might have changed it, which I cannot confirm. Nor can I be sure the two men you encountered this morning were referring to him, or someone else who resembles me. After all, the continent is vast, isn’t it?”
Although Hall sensed Charlie’s evasive attitude, he couldn’t immediately think of a response. Charlie was right in his assumptions—although not an heir to a viscountcy like Shivers, his family was prominent in Lemena, and it was difficult for him to persistently uncover others’ scars.
“I don’t understand.” Shiloh blinked. “Why don’t you go look for him? Brothers should be together, shouldn’t they?”
Shiloh was less worldly than Hall. He simply drew from his own life experiences, naively thinking that family reunions were natural. The rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s attitude of “I have a brother I haven’t seen for a long time. He might be here or might not, and I’m not interested in knowing” baffled the baby-faced knight.
Charlie looked at them curiously, tilting his head. “That’s a nice thought. You must have a warm, harmonious, lovely family. Shiloh, do you have siblings too?”
This question made Hall feel uneasy, wanting to interject, but Shiloh had already eagerly responded, “Yes. Hasting has a brother, and I have two—plus a sister and a younger sister, though Hall has only sisters.”
Charlie nodded. “Sounds lively.”
Hasting caught on faster to the potentially evasive question from the rabbit-headed shopkeeper and looked at Hall with suspicion.
Hall’s expression was complex.
Then they heard Charlie calmly say, “My family might be a bit more unusual than most—there are few direct relatives left, and as for my brother, I didn’t even know if he was alive or dead before returning to Doran. He likely felt the same about me.”
“This status might be the most suitable for us. If there is an ideal outcome between us, it would probably be that we never see each other again until death.”
This unexpected statement silenced the three young knights for a moment before Shiloh cautiously asked, “Do you have some kind of feud?”
“Not really,” Charlie replied. “It’s related to my family. We are children not blessed. Relatives who truly cared about us made many efforts to protect us, and living apart was the best arrangement they could make. It has nothing to do with our feelings for each other. After all, staying alive is what’s most important, right?”
Shiloh opened his mouth, suddenly regretting starting this topic. The gravity of the discussion was completely unexpected.
He hadn’t considered that the rabbit-headed shopkeeper might be a bastard child. Frankly, it was common in wealthy and powerful families. There was even a trend in Pennigra where nobles bragged about the number and accomplishments of their illegitimate children, stemming from an Earl who had ignored a child for twenty years until the child invented a potion effective against the former Emperor’s chronic headaches, earning recognition. The Earl had then made a big show of adding him to the family tree and securing a well-positioned wife for him during that year’s social season, sparking other promiscuous nobles to look back at their overlooked “accidents” in hopes of finding a few who could make them stand out. However, Charlie’s last comment was more crucial: “staying alive”.
The seriousness of this issue seemed far greater than being ignored or unloved by parents, Shiloh thought. Could it be that their father’s or mother’s partner was very dominant and despised their existence?
Hasting and Hall thought deeper than Shiloh, especially Hasting, because he had always been close to the Duke and had heard quite a bit of their conversations, though he had never mentioned it to his companions.
“Our hometown is not far from here, and in the future, we might encounter some distant relatives from those days who would certainly not want to see me,” Charlie stated seriously. “For me, Elena is just an old acquaintance who has turned her face away. Even if I encounter her, it’s not a big deal. But those relatives would want my life the moment they see me, so if you are willing to keep my secret, I would appreciate it.”
Midnight.
The clouds were thick, covering much of the moon. Thankfully, the streetlights on the dock were still on. Although a bit old and not very bright, they managed to cast a round circle of light under each lamp post. Beyond that, it remained dark.
However, a few lights were still on by the roadside, belonging to shops still open—competing for time, all-night loading and unloading were common. They catered to workers who, after a cold night’s hard work, sweating and hungry, could potentially see all their stock bought up by generous employers as a reward after completion.
Erica didn’t ride a horse but walked towards the dock along the streetlights at a steady pace. If it weren’t for the inappropriate timing, she would have looked more like a leisurely strolling tourist.
Half an hour earlier, she had watched several cavalrymen ride off under the orders of the Countess. If all went well, they would reach the territory of Mokwen in a week.
As time passed, Miss Priscilla’s pregnancy symptoms became increasingly severe, making it difficult for her to adapt to sea travel. Thus, she disembarked immediately after docking at the port of Fortuna City. Meanwhile, news from home informed that the King of Mokwen had openly declared war against the Southern Lord, and Priscilla, far in Fortuna City, had already received news that both had been injured in battle. However, the Earl’s injuries had worsened rapidly, and at some unknown point, Tifa had garnered the support of several major nobles within the country, all sending troops—not to defend the royal capital but to point their swords south.
By then, anyone could guess what the King was using to bribe his allies. If the Southern Lord’s rebellion was confirmed, the fertile lands due to the old king’s favoritism and Tifa’s insecurities would be carved up like a piece of prime meat among hyenas.
Although she would have preferred Lestrop to be killed by an arrow on the battlefield, when it came to lands and property, Priscilla, after some thought, still decided to write a letter. However, it wasn’t directed to Thorn Manor or the south, but to Syriacochi.
The seemingly fragile lady said to Erica, “Mokwen must be rife with rumors now, and Tifa, with his weak character, is easily manipulated. Unless he can produce irrefutable evidence of Lestrop’s rebellion, he might sabotage himself from nervousness, perhaps even back down at the last moment, just as he had given Lestrop preferential treatment in terms of land and wealth when he first came to power. I must write a letter to the King, persuading Captain Sparry to send it back for me.”
Before leaving Lababata, Lestrop had left one of his confidants to escort Priscilla to White Bridge, a man deeply loyal to the Earl and one of the few he trusted.
“The Earl ordered him to protect you at all costs. He might not listen,” Erica said.
Because of Priscilla’s exceptional status, to avoid suspicion, Erica stayed with the Countess’ entourage disguised as a female doctor. Since she acted fairly and was favored by the lady, she was naturally able to care for her closely.
“Then tell him that this letter might preserve the Earl’s name and title,” Priscilla said. “Lestrop is obstinate and overly proud. For years, except for the King, several major nobles have been suppressed by him. Maybe he never considered that even ants can kill an elephant when gathered. I want to write two letters; one to the King saying my husband has committed unforgivable crimes, but I am pregnant, and the child is innocent. I ask that he spare him for the sake of his nephew.”
“And the other letter?” Erica asked.
“The content of the other letter is the same, but it should be sent only after confirming the Earl’s defeat—with the Earl’s family crest and my signature. The newspapers in the capital would pay a great deal for it,” Priscilla mused. “He can kill Lestrop, but he can’t kill me and the child in my womb—at least not openly. As long as the Countess’ pregnancy is public knowledge, even if the King revokes his titles later, the southern lands won’t easily fall into others’ hands.”
The premise was that she and the child could safely return to the country.
Previously, she had complied with Lestrop, even proactively offering to continue handling his affairs in White Bridge because she had sensed the imminent conflict between Tifa and Lestrop. Having only been in Mokwen for a short time and with an unstable foundation, it would have been difficult to protect the child should anything happen, so she thought of leveraging the child’s father’s power to ensure her safe delivery and return home.
Unexpectedly, her brother hadn’t left Doran but had instead transferred people from Lemena—among those who had infiltrated the entourage with Erica were two Brandenburg Knights.
Priscilla had to admit, even after getting married, having a husband and a lover, the people who could make her feel most secure were still those from Lemena and only from Lemena.
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