Chapter 409: Fermentation
The King’s death could not be kept secret for long, but managing to hide such a big event for a full three days was proof of the Second Prince’s skill.
Under pressure from the ministers, the Second Prince eventually announced the late King’s passing, only delaying the official time of death a little.
A New Year’s fire and the King’s death happening so close together became the hot topic everywhere. Both nobles and commoners discussed it endlessly, especially since the Crown Prince still had not appeared in public. Because of different political stances, people voiced very different opinions.
The Crown Prince’s supporters claimed that since the King had died of illness, the throne should naturally go to the eldest son. Now that the Crown Prince was locked deep inside the palace without clear explanation, and no one could confirm if he was safe, it was highly improper.
The Second Prince’s supporters, however, insisted that the King’s death must be linked to the Crown Prince. After all, they pointed to the example of the Crown Prince's wife’s recent scandal, and they absolutely refused to let someone suspected of killing the King inherit the throne.
The Crown Prince himself had no chance to show his face, and the Second Prince never publicly explained anything. The two princes simply remained in the palace after the King’s death, neither stepping forward to take charge. It felt as if both factions were just dragging things out, or perhaps waiting for the situation to further “ferment.”
“Brother.”
One day after that, the Second Prince, Eric, came to visit his elder brother, the Crown Prince, Solor.
Although Solor was not completely confined to one place, the guards surrounding him meant he had no real freedom.
Since the Crown Prince's wife was considered the main suspect, and the Crown Prince was only implicated by association, his treatment was still fairly decent. He was simply placed in a separate room from the Crown Prince's wife, and for now, they were not allowed to meet.
Eric was not the kind of man who took pleasure in cruelty, and he had no intention of harming the Crown Prince's wife. In fact, he fully understood who had really put something in the wine she served. This whole affair had nothing to do with her. But now there was no living witness to prove it.
With the Crown Prince's wife absent and the attendants all loyal to the Second Prince, it took only a wave of Eric’s hand to dismiss them. That gave the brothers a rare moment alone, something they had not shared since they were young.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve sat face to face like this, hasn’t it?”
Eric sat across from Solor, watching him quietly sip tea and read a classic novel, as if he were just spending a peaceful afternoon.
“You know, if you become king, you won’t have this kind of leisure anymore.”
Seeing that Solor didn’t reply, Eric poured himself a cup of tea, blew away the steam, and drank it down in a few gulps, as if quenching a deep thirst.
“When you’re king, you’ll have to face the dark side of politics, manage countless affairs of the state, stay alert to people around you who might want your life, and even, while being loving with your wife, sleep with other women for political alliances. You’ll have to watch your own future children turn against each other. Brother, the path to being King is full of bitterness. You’ve seen what our father was like.”
Eric’s tone sounded like patient advice, but the subtle smile on his face made his sincerity questionable.
“So, Brother… for your own sake, just stop fighting.”
It was hard to tell whether he was asking for peace, or urging surrender.
With a small clink, Eric set down his teacup. He seemed to be waiting for Solor’s answer, smiling as he looked at the man sitting across from him. His pink eyes reflected only his brother’s figure.
“……”
After a quiet sigh, Solor set down the book in his hands. It seemed he had only been idly flipping through it, since he made no mark when he closed it.
“And you?”
Solor’s light reply tossed the question back at Eric.
“And why have you been fighting for it all this time?”
“Ha—me?”
Eric smiled as if he had already expected this question, his expression still looking casual.
“I suppose… because I can’t turn back anymore. After all, I’ve already been pushed into this position, haven’t I?”
The word pushed was chosen very deliberately, as if to imply he had been forced into it. But after all the things he had done over the years, after all the people he had killed, this wasn’t something that could be brushed off with a simple “I had no choice” and then forgotten.
Over the years, he had secretly eliminated countless politicians, with more lives on his hands than anyone could count. Those in the House of Nightingales, under his “training,” had nearly lost all sense of self. This man named Eric was, without a doubt, a true villain.
And yet, he also knew how to govern. Now that the old King had passed away and neither prince had taken the throne, if the Second Prince truly became King, his ability to rule the country probably wouldn’t be bad.
It’s just that… he was the kind of man legends called a tyrant.
He would shape everything in his hands into the form he wanted, even if it meant using violent means. He might very well become the perfect example of “the victor writes the history.” As long as he won this struggle, he would have the power to forcibly change everyone’s view of him.
“Is that so? I think you’re enjoying it.”
Compared to Eric, who was always smiling, Solor’s expression was much calmer. If Eric was a tyrant, then Solor looked more like a composed king.
But a king was never an absolutely kind or righteous figure.
While Eric’s schemes were done in secret, those who knew the truth could see them plainly enough. Solor was the opposite, ever since his youth, when he had Armand kill Eric’s mother as a pledge of loyalty, it was clear he had always been a ruthless and cold person.
The difference was that very little of what Solor did ever became public. He was a prince too, and to survive in the royal family he also had to control public opinion. His hands were no cleaner than Eric’s. He was simply better at hiding what he did, or at having others do it for him.
“Haha… saying someone’s enjoying this kind of thing? Now that’s madness.”
Eric shook his head, making the red single earring he wore sway slightly. Hearing this, it seemed he no longer wished to continue the conversation. He stood up and stretched lazily.
Since the days of the old King, Eric’s personality seemed to have changed. In his actions, he appeared more casual, almost carefree, but the smile on his face no longer carried any real joy. That red cloth covering half his face was less to hide an injury and more to hide his true emotions.
“So tiring…” He stretched again and let out a long sigh. “But it’s fine, this will all be over soon, Brother.”
He looked down at his elder brother, his words sounding like both a final ultimatum and a last farewell.
The masks were finally coming off.
Even though their relationship had long since broken apart, when the day truly arrived, there was still a faint feeling of sentiment.
Was it reluctance? Ha—who knows.
Who would bother remembering such a rotten past anyway?