Chapter 2 - From Surprise Incident to Surprise Meeting
A ship cruised across the ultramarine sea.
Its masts stretched up high, and the bottom of the ship swelled bulbously, giving it the shape of an acorn split in half. It was the size of a small hill. Only trees as tall as the heavens could ever produce an acorn of this size.
This type of vessel was known as a “carrack,” primarily serving as a trade ship that voyaged across oceans. It wasn’t propelled forward by humans rowing oars, but by three thick, white sails that hung on masts to catch the wind.
This time, the boat wasn’t making a shipment. It was transporting the representative of Natra—Wein—to the Patura Archipelago.
“Gweh…”
At the moment, the representative in question was slumped listlessly on the couch of his cabin. Seasick.
“You’re like this every time you’re at sea. You always feel better whenever we reach the port and touch land… Seems like you and boats just don’t mesh, Wein.”
Ninym watched over him worriedly from a chair next to him. She was feeling fine.
“I was surprised myself… It’s not just the rocking of the boat… I mean, the weather…”
“Yeah. It’s warm for early spring.”
Patura was on the far southern tip of the mainland. Obviously, its weather was going to be different from Natra’s. Wein was lightly dressed, but his body was having trouble adjusting to the extreme change in temperature, especially since a brutal winter had just ended in the North.
Not that he was weak. Ninym was just special. She had the aptitude to navigate these unfamiliar circumstances—from the boat ride to the extreme weather—with just a simple outfit change.
“We should arrive on the Patura Archipelago sometime today. Try to hang on until then.”
“Uh-huh… I’ll try.”
Ninym wasn’t being totally honest. She said it mostly to console him. Upon departing from the port in Soljest, the ship had made a western circuit, stopping at a few ports for supplies, and it was now in the final stretch. Patura was just within its reach.
If all went well, the ship would arrive at some point during the day. Problem was, it was impossible to predict the whims of the sea. If the ship got caught in a storm, a safe arrival wasn’t guaranteed for anyone.
“Well, you know where I’ll be,” Wein muttered. “Let me know when you see Patura…”
“Understood. I’ll be outside.”
She was worried about him, but it wasn’t like his seasickness would get any better with her hovering over him.
“Here’s hoping our return trip will be on land…” Wein groaned from behind as she slipped out of the cabin.
“—Omph.”
The door was only one step away from the deck of the ship. Ninym drank in the briny air and strong rays. She scraped back her flyaway hairs with her hand, heading toward the ship’s bow.
“Oh, if it isn’t Ninym.”
The voice belonged to Tolcheila. She must have been staring out over the ocean with her attendants. The rocking of the boat didn’t trouble her. The princess approached Ninym with practiced, confident steps.
“How fares the prince?”
“Better, but he’ll need to rest.”
A white lie. Ninym needed to save face for her liege’s sake.
“Hmm. It’s probably best that we arrive in Patura quickly, then. It’s unfortunate that he cannot enjoy this view.” Tolcheila looked out over the ocean and shook her head in disappointment.
Ninym looked at her. Like father like daughter, she thought. She’s such a go-getter.
Though Tolcheila was the one to volunteer to act as intermediary, the crown princess was accompanying them to the other end of the continent. This had triggered Falanya’s rotten mood, but Ninym had never expected a royal to be so accommodating.
She reminds me of Lowa.
Lowellmina, Ninym’s good friend and the Imperial Princess of the Earthworld Empire. During their school days, Lowa had never been predicable. Ninym had seen her as a wild card.
“—Achoo!”
“Feeling sick, Princess Lowellmina?”
“I’m fine, Fyshe. I think someone’s talking behind my back. I’m allergic to gossip, you know.”
“…Are you certain it’s not because of your stomach-exposing outfit?”
“Do you hear yourself? Listen, Fyshe. A good outfit can make or break your day. You can’t get cold if you’re in a good mood. Besides, it’s already spring! I overcame winter with nothing but this attitude, so this is a walk in the park!”
“Is that so?”
“It is!” Lowellmina insisted.
Obviously, her accompanying us helps out Natra.
Everything came down to human connection. That was why Wein was making the visit in person, since they couldn’t settle anything via mail. Tolcheila acting as their liaison would only make the deal easier.
But it almost seems like she’s only here because she wants to be out at sea…
Ninym had initially assumed Tolcheila was trying to make them forever indebted to her, but watching the little princess scurry around on the ship had made the aide think otherwise.
Well, if she has no problem talking to me, she’s already a little strange.
Ninym was a Flahm, oppressed in the Western nations for her white hair and red eyes, as dictated by Levetian doctrine. Treated as slaves, her people were stripped of human rights.
King Gruyere had provided the crew and Tolcheila’s attendants, which meant they weren’t about to disrespect foreign representatives, even if Ninym exposed her natural features. That said, she could feel the awkwardness in their every move. She knew it wasn’t her imagination.
Like King Gruyere, however, Tolcheila didn’t show the slightest bit of prejudice. Curious about this, Ninym had once indirectly asked why.
“I am the master of myself. Not my father, not my spouse, not even God may command me. Why must I abide by something on a piece of paper? The people may have to cater to me, but I would never cater to people.”
It was almost narcissistic, though strangely not in a bad way. Far from it, in fact. Ninym embraced Tolcheila for who she was and recognized the princess had a high opinion of her.
This informality reminds me of Lowa…
“Achoo-achoo!”
“Your Highness…”
“I-I’m fine! This is because of all the gossip! So maybe I get chilly on occasion. It would be foolish—all for nothing—if I give in now. Besides, there’s no going back. And I’m definitely not cold…!”
“Shall I clear away this warm mead?”
“Bullying is a bad look for you, Fyshe…!”
I wonder what she’s doing right about now?
Lowa was gulping down mead. Not that Ninym had any way of knowing that.
“—Land ho!” the lookout boy shouted from the platform halfway up the mainmast.
“It seems we’ve finally arrived,” Ninym noted.
Tolcheila shook her head. “Not yet. This is only the entrance to the Patura Archipelago.”
“The entrance?”
“Right. There’s a cluster of bigger and smaller islands. Each one is ruled by a different clan and people of influence, but the stronghold of the Zarif is the island in the very center. It’s right beyond the island we see.”
“I see. Hence calling it the entrance.”
“Indeed. We’ll be there in no time… Mm?” Tolcheila was looking at someone behind Ninym. Turning around to follow her gaze, Ninym saw Wein had left his cabin.
“Your Highness.” Ninym hurried over to Wein.
His complexion was dull, and he staggered forward.
“Is it all right for you to be up?”
“I’m managing,” Wein assured her. “Anyway, I heard we can see the island?”
“Yes. But only the one that acts as the door to Patura. Our destination is farther ahead.”
“Oh…” Wein leaned over the ship’s rail, looking deflated.
“Hee-hee. To think the prince’s sprits have been dashed by a simple boat ride.”
Wein tried to straighten his posture as Tolcheila approached, but he was too slow.
“Please pardon my unsightly appearance, Princess Tolcheila.”
“Think nothing of it. Aging and illness are a natural part of life. In fact, I’m delighted to see this side of you, Prince.”
Her chuckle brought a strained smile to Wein’s face.
“Seems you’re as cheerful as ever, Princess… Even with no seasickness, I thought anyone would find this long journey exhausting.”
“I’m used to setting sail. That said, this is only my second visit to Patura. After all, it’s hard to depart for a land as far as this one at a moment’s notice.”
The boat sailed toward the island. It continued forward, tracing the island’s outline into Patura’s inner ocean.
“…Strange,” Tolcheila murmured under her breath.
“What’s the matter?” Wein asked.
“I don’t see signs of any other ships. Last time, I passed many of them around here.”
“Now that you mention it, it seems strange that there aren’t many ships near an island trading post—Ah.”
Wein looked out. It was as if they’d been heard. A single ship slipped into view on the western side of the island. It was a carrack just like theirs.
Spoke too soon, Wein thought.
The ship raised several emblemed flags up the masts. The crew began to stir.
“Hey, that flag is ordering us to stop.”
“Who does the ship belong to? The Zarif?”
“I’ve never seen that emblem before.”
“Put up our signal flag. We’ll tell them we’re carrying a delegation.”
The crew snapped into action. One of them turned and spoke to Tolcheila.
“Pardon me, Lady Tolcheila. Something about their ship seems strange. They may be pirates.”
“Pirates, eh? Don’t the Zarif control these waters?”
“Yes, that should be the case. However…” The crew member trailed off.
A lookout called down to them. “The vessel is of unknown origin, and it’s speeding toward us!”
“They’re not responding to our flag signal? Damn! I knew it. Pirates!”
“All hands to your stations! We’ll go around to the east to make our escape!” shouted one of the crew.
Maritime battles meant striking the enemy ship with the naval ram attached to the fore or climbing over grappling hooks onto a nearby boat to engage in hand-to-hand combat. On their ship built for commercial trade, however, there was no naval ram, and the crew had no real battle experience. Meaning that if these were indeed pirates, there was no chance of winning a fight.
Tolcheila seemed racked with nerves, questioning the ship’s crew. “Will we be able to get away?”
“…It seems we’re moving at the same speed. The wind is on our side, so I predict we will be able to escape. Even if we can’t shake them completely, we will eventually be saved by a guard ship as long as we maintain this distance.”
Their ship changed direction and skirted the eastern side of the island. The pirate-like ship pursued them, but the distance gradually widened.
“Hmm. Will this be enough?” Tolcheila asked the seaman.
“Most likely. Just to be safe, I would like everyone to retreat inside. It will be safer there and put our crew’s mind at ease.”
It was the nicest way to let them know they were in the way. Since the guests didn’t know the first thing about running a ship, this decision was instant.
Wein was going obediently inside when—
“Starboard! Another unknown ship detected!” the lookout shrieked.
They all turned to the right, the direction of the island. Another vessel appeared from the shadows as if to block their path.
“Steer to port side!”
“—We won’t make it in time! We’re going to crash!”
A collision violently rocked the ship—an impact bigger than any wave. The vessel veered forcefully to the left.
“—Ah.”
Who had produced that small shriek?
Stomach churning, Wein gripped the side of the boat. Tolcheila was instantly surrounded by crew and attendants.
They saw Ninym’s body thrown toward the sea.
“Ninym!” Wein didn’t hesitate for a second. He reached out, gripping her and spinning around until they switched places.
There was nothing supporting him now.
“Wein!” Ninym shrieked as he plunged into the ocean.
Everything changed in an instant. No air. His nose and ears filled with seawater.
He struggled to the surface, where he witnessed Ninym about to leap off the boat to rescue him.
“STAY BACK!” Wein shouted.
Ninym froze.
Their ship had veered away from the other vessel and started to move again.
From a distance, he could see Ninym and Tolcheila screaming at the crew to do something—anything—but the ship did not stop. As if to escape the clutches of the enemy, it raced across the ocean at top speed.
Wein was left to fend for himself…
“—Phew.”
He let out a little sigh of relief—not one of despair or worry.
The ship and crew were on loan from King Gruyere. Therefore, the crew prioritized Princess Tolcheila over Wein. They didn’t have time to collect idiots going overboard, especially with pirates on their tail. Even if said idiots were foreign royalty or their attendants.
The island is right there. It won’t be that hard to swim to shore. The real problem is…
Tasting the seawater in his mouth, Wein looked around him and spotted the original pirate ship fast approaching. The vessel pulled right up next to Wein, furled its sails, and came to a halt. A rope ladder came crashing down before him.
…Guess I’ve got no choice but to hop on.
It wasn’t like he could outswim a ship.
Plus, he wouldn’t stand a chance if they got him with spears or harpoons. And even if he did reach the island before they killed him, it could belong to his attackers.
Wein clutched the rope ladder and made his way aboard.
Blade tips were waiting for him when he got there.
“Well, yeah, I guess I expected this.” Wein raised his hands in front of the sword-wielding crew. “I’m not going to resist, so I’d like you to lower your weapons.”
He quickly took note of each member.
Full sets of matching armor on all of them. Same thing with their weapons. Anyone would think this was a warship, but these aren’t the Zarif…
The apparent captain of the ship stepped forward.
“Someone has some guts, eh? Looks like you’re not just some manservant. You’ll sell high.” He dragged the tip of his blade across Wein’s throat. “Boy, do you know where that ship came from and where it’s going?”
“……” Wein suddenly pieced together what the man was after.
Even if he didn’t know whom the ship belonged to, his goal had to be one thing—money.
“From Soljest,” Wein said. “It’s looking to buy up goods from Patura.”
A perfectly believable answer of half-truths. If these people’s objective was money, it was better to make them think he was from a normal merchant ship rather than reveal the vessel was carrying foreign dignitaries.
“Soljest, huh… Must have been a long journey to make it down from the north of nowhere.”
“Can you cut me some slack, then? Between you and me, I was just attacked by pirates and flung into the ocean.”
“Hmph. Don’t get too cocky, boy. We were just approaching the ship to conduct an inspection, but there seems to be a bit of a misunderstanding, since they turned tail on us.”
“‘Inspection’…? What, is there a war going on or something?”
“I have no obligation to tell you. Just pray you fetch us a good price… Lock this guy away in the ship’s hold!”
Wein’s arms were bound behind him with rope before he was tossed into the hold. Sooner than he could even struggle to his feet, the ship lurched forward.
Can’t say I was expecting this.
Where was the ship headed? What was going on in Patura? What would happen to him?
The ship cruised over the sea, carrying the unknowing prince.
The ship must have anchored in a military port.
Lining the harbor were rows of identical ships. A large fortress loomed over them. One glance was enough to tell anyone that this heavily patrolled structure was important.
Wein was led inside the fortress by the ship’s crew. It seemed ancient, with traces of repairs patching up the walls. The building had to be several decades old, but it had never been vacant. In fact, Wein could tell the facility had been in use since its construction.
They arrived at the jail.
“This one’s yours. Go on. Get inside.”
Wein had never seen anything so unsanitary in his life, but he obliged.
“We’ll come back to question you later. Don’t cause any trouble.”
With that, the ship’s crew slammed the door shut, locking him in, and left.
When Wein couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore, he let out a little sigh.
“Well, what am I gonna do?”
Lucky for him, they had untied his hands. Wein looked around the cell, rooting through it for something useful. Sure enough, he found nothing.
Well, it is a jail cell.
Wein reached out to touch the bars covering his window. It didn’t seem like he’d be able to remove them on his own. Beyond the window, the ocean and sky seemed to stretch out forever. This fortress seemed to be built on a steep cliff, so even if he somehow managed to escape, he’d tumble headfirst right off the edge.
Obviously, the other bars on the door didn’t seem like they would budge. He didn’t know how to pick locks with a wire. Not that he had any wires on him to begin with.
He tried to give the bars a good jiggle, unwilling to give up.
“—Is someone there?” someone called out from the cell next to him.
It was a man’s voice. Wein couldn’t see his face since there was a stone wall between them, but he sounded terribly frail and exhausted.
Wein didn’t hesitate to reply. “Yeah. I’m your new prison neighbor.”
He didn’t know what this guy’s deal was, but he desperately needed information.
“I got caught on my ship when I came to do some merchant business,” the prince said. “I planned to make landfall sometime today, but I never thought these would be my accommodations.”
“I’m sorry to hear that… Where did you come from?”
“Soljest.”
“…Then I bet you were surprised. The truth is, Patura is dealing with an issue at the moment.”
“Some dignitary waving a banner of rebellion?”
Wein could almost feel his neighbor’s surprise through the wall.
“Did you already hear the rumors?”
“Just a guess based on the information I’ve gleaned so far. From your reaction, I’m guessing I’m right.”
His captors had been engaged in pirate activity in Zarif-controlled waters, approaching ships from unknown origins as part of an “investigation.”
Their equipment was just too good for pirates. Even this facility seemed too fancy. He’d pieced it all together and begun to see the hazy outline of an answer.
Someone had successfully attacked the Zarif and taken over Patura, facility and all.
“…You’re right. This all started when the Zarif’s Ladu, Alois Zarif, was assassinated by pirates.”
“Urp.” Wein gulped.
“Something the matter?”
“…Nothing.”
Alois Zarif. The representative Wein was supposed to meet. He’d prepared himself for this news when he’d heard the domain was in the hands of someone else, but hearing it confirmed made Wein groan.
“Were the pirates that strong?”
“That and Patura has maelstroms known as Dragon Storms around this time of year. I heard the pirates attacked during one of those.”
“Dragon Storms, huh…?”
They were a natural phenomenon impossible in Natra. They must have been because of Patura’s tropical climate.
“When Patura was in shambles from the loss of its Ladu, a certain man led a fleet of ships to wage an attack against us. They were swift, and Patura had no one to take command, so the islands were under their control in an instant.”
“He must have been corroborating with the pirates from the very start. Who was this guy?”
“…Legul Zarif. Alois’s eldest son. A natural genius who knows the sea like the back of his hand. The man once next in line to be the Ladu. He was banished from Patura for terrorizing the citizens.”
“I see…”
Wein had thought the whole thing was awfully clever, so it made sense if a local had been the one to spearhead everything.
“He was the original successor. Legul’s fleet is expanding its domain as the island leaders fail to work together to subjugate him, even now. With everything else going on, I hear unsavory characters are attacking passing ships, seizing cargo, and taking people hostage for ransom. I take it that’s what happened to you.”
“Bingo…” Wein moaned.
Trouble just seemed to follow him around. His negotiating partner was dead, and Wein had gotten captured, caught up in some random war.
“I’m terribly sorry…” said the man through the wall.
Wein cocked his head to the side. “Hey. This is your second time apologizing. You haven’t done anything wrong…right?”
The root of the problem was this Legul Zarif. He was the one who should be taking responsibility. The only other person who could apologize would have been his father, Alois Zarif.
The prisoner wouldn’t let it go. “No, I should be apologizing. After all, I—”
“Hey! What’re you yammering on about?!”
Soldiers stepped into the corridor. They stopped in front of Wein’s cell, unlocking his door, and began barking orders at him.
“Get out! We got some questions for you!”
“Okay, okay. No need to raise your voice.” Wein exited the cell without objection.
He glanced farther down the jail and caught sight of a man leaning against the iron bars.
The haggard man looked at Wein and silently mouthed, “Be careful.”
Wein was hauled off to an interrogation room.
Tools for “questioning” were straightened on the table. The smell of blood soaked the walls and floor, enough to paralyze the weak of heart.
The chief interrogator awaiting him spoke in a cavalier tone. “I will inform you right now that I will not negotiate with you in any capacity.”
The man glared at Wein.
“Your crimes are serious—slighting our flags asking you to stop for the inspection, damaging our ships, fleeing from the scene. You will not be allowed to leave here alive if the price for your crimes remains unpaid.”
The heaviness of his voice warned this wasn’t an idle threat.
However, Wein remained undaunted, naturally. In fact, to him, this information held a bit of good news.
In other words, the others haven’t been caught.
Wein was relieved for two reasons.
First, the man’s words meant everyone else had safely escaped. Second, they meant Wein had allies on the outside who could help him get out of here.
“Hey! Are you listening?!” The interrogator slammed his fist against the table, trying to intimidate him.
“Of course I’m listening. So how much will it take to release me?”
“Hmm? Confident, are we? …Let’s see how long that smug look of yours lasts. Listen closely. Your ransom is five thousand gold coins!”
The soldiers huddled around the interrogator seemed surprised. This was only reasonable; ransom was usually set at a few gold coins. Maybe a dozen for really important people. Even figuring in the ship repairs, five thousand coins was ridiculous.
A cocky brat, huh? the interrogator thought. I’ll have him begging for mercy.
An evil look spread across his face. Everyone around him could tell this monetary amount was something he had arbitrarily come up with himself.
“…Hey,” Wein said.
“You can’t talk yourself out of this one. We already agreed on those terms. I’ll add another hundred coins every time you run your little mouth. Still have something to say?”
“Make it two hundred thousand.”
Only Wein knew what that meant.
It wasn’t as if they didn’t understand him. They just thought they’d heard him wrong.
There was no stopping Wein. “Five thousand is too little. If you need me to pay, I’ll make it two hundred thousand gold coins.”
There was no mistaking it this time. After a beat, the interrogator pounded his fist on the desk.
“What the hell are you talking about?! Two hundred thousand?! Are you screwing with me?!”
“Not at all. I’m completely serious.” Wein shrugged. “I’m the treasurer of Lontra and Co. in Soljest. It has a mountain of coins that don’t move without my orders. Two hundred thousand coins will be no problem. I’ll pay you in full.”
What the hell is with this guy? I have no clue what he’s talking about.
For some reason, the interrogator and soldiers found themselves hanging on Wein’s every word.
“As for my ship…it likely escaped to the Salendina Company in Patura. After all, they’re one of Lontra’s major business partners. Things should move quickly if you contact them.”
“B-but…if that’s true… Oh right! What’s your objective?! If you’ve got that much money, why wouldn’t you just cough up the five thousand?! What’s the point in making things harder for yourself?!”
“I love money, but I love my life more. If my guys abandoned me, that tells me my life isn’t worth very much to them. But I’m still alive. They misjudged me. You know, merchants always make the appropriate people suffer appropriate damages. Think of it as a form of revenge.”
There was neither authority nor servility in his voice. Everyone sensed he was merely speaking the truth.
Wein questioned them with a smile.
“So what will you do? Two hundred thousand gold coins is enough to change the lives of everyone here. Of course, if you want to keep up your modest ways of living, you’re free to ask for five thousand. There’s no harm in that, though I can’t imagine why you would ever refuse my proposal.”
All present knew there was no downside to this deal. It was just a matter of raising the ransom from five thousand to two hundred thousand. They’d make 195,000 extra coins—free of charge.
But they were still conflicted. It was just too sudden, too ridiculous, too tempting.
Wein was ready to mentally corner them and pounce.
“One hundred and ninety thousand.”
The soldiers jumped in their skins.
“You guys are impossible. No good at all. If you’re going to dither about a deal this simple, I have no choice but to lower the ransom. If you’re still not sure, I’ll lower it until you accept.”
“What?! W-wait!”
Wein had gained total control of the situation, but he was the only one who realized this.
“No waiting. Time is money. If you squander time deciding, you lose precious gold. Isn’t that obvious? So? What will you do? One hundred and eighty thousand—and less by the second.”
“O-okay! We’ll contact Salendina! That’s all we have to do, right?!”
Wein clapped. “Excellent! Bring a bed to my cell before that. Oh, and a desk and chair. I’ll need some quality wine. Plus—”
“D-don’t be ridiculous! As if we’d agree to that!”
“Would you leave a two-hundred-thousand-coin wine outside? Set it down in a corner of a jail cell? You wouldn’t, would you? Keeping valuables in mint condition takes a certain level of labor. If you can’t hand me over in perfect health, my value will diminish. Obviously.”
“B-but you’re our prisoner.”
“One hundred and seventy thousand.”
The men shuddered at the new ransom amount.
Wein flashed them an arrogant smile. “So what will you do? I should mention there’s no room to negotiate.”
“How did we even get here…?”
“Hell if I know. Just hurry up and prepare the bed…!”
Badgered by Wein, the soldiers hauled a bed, a desk, a chair, and various other furnishings into the cell. By the time they realized it would have been easier to move him into a guest room in the fortress, the bare stone cell had become outfitted with enough to accommodate anyone.
“Well, I suppose this is a bit better.”
Wein lounged on the bed with a wine bottle in one hand.
The jail cell wasn’t all that bad for Wein, who’d marched for long periods and slept outside before. But he was in desperate need of a stationary bed after being jostled by the ship during the journey here.
“…Amazing.”
He heard a voice from the cell next to him.
“I can’t imagine how you managed to pull that off.”
The man must have been watching through the iron bars as everything was jammed into Wein’s cell. He sounded impressed, though his comment was mixed with a dry chuckle.
“You’d be surprised how far a conversation takes you. Care for some wine?”
“No, thank you. Those are your spoils. I do not deserve your kindness,” the man said firmly yet politely. “There is one thing I must ask.”
He took a deep breath.
“Aren’t you Prince Wein?”
“‘Prince Wein’?”
Wein sounded like he suddenly couldn’t remember his own name.
“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong man. My name is Glen,” Wein said quickly, borrowing the name of a good friend.
His mind raced furiously.
The soldiers regarded Wein as a merchant who would give them money. What would happen if they found out he was a high-profile foreigner?
It was unrealistically optimistic to think they’d apologize for their actions and escort him to a royal suite. After all, these guys had been planning to pillage his vessel as part of their “investigation.” If they found out they’d attacked a ship carrying a foreign delegation, there was a good chance they’d kill Wein to bury their crimes.
I can’t let anyone in this fortress know my identity.
It was up to him to crush any possibility of that happening. He would have to lie to this man and possibly even silence him if it came down to it.
“I see… I was mistaken. My apologies.”
The man backed down without a fight—whether he could read Wein’s mind or not.
The prince could have cut their conversation there, but he was curious to know why the man had suspected who he was in the first place.
“Hmm, Prince Wein, huh? The young hero leading the Kingdom of Natra? A diplomat skilled with pen and sword? A specimen more handsome than humanly imaginable?”
“I haven’t heard a single thing about his looks.”
“……”
They were only silent for a moment. Wein pulled himself together.
“So why did you mistake me for Prince Wein?”
“The first thing that caught my attention was your intonation. It speaks of a quality education. Second, you arrived right as the vessel carrying Prince Wein’s delegation was scheduled to arrive in Patura.”
Wein’s eyes instantly grew sharp.
“I see… Impressive that you mistook me for the prince just from my way of speaking. And how did you know when a foreign envoy would be arriving?”
“It’s my duty to know… Come to think of it, I failed to introduce myself before.”
The man seemed to command the jail.
“The name’s Felite Zarif. I’m the son of the previous Ladu, Alois Zarif, and the younger brother of Legul Zarif.”
“ ” Surprise colored Wein’s expression.
The son of Alois, Felite. Wein had heard of him but had never expected him to be right here.
What’s going on—?
Upon Alois’s death, Felite should have taken his position as the next Ladu—and been killed by his older brother, Legul, as soon as the rebellion started.
Except he was alive now, in prison.
Is he lying about being Felite? But he has no reason to lie to me.
The gears in Wein’s mind turned, trying to churn out questions that would help him get to the bottom of things. As if to interrupt his thought process, Wein could hear the pattering of feet coming down the corridor toward them.
There was no choice but to cut the conversation short. Wein leaned against the cell wall.
Coming into the corridor were soldiers led by a single man. Based on his clothes and the soldiers’ behavior, he had to be someone very important.
Wein pegged him for the fortress’s commanding officer. The man brushed past him, casting a fleeting glance his way. His feet stopped in front of the cell next to Wein.
“Hmph. Looks like you still have some life in you, Felite.”
“Yes… Thanks to this comfortable cell, Brother.”
Brother.
So, this was Legul, the rebel. And the man in the next cell over was Felite. Wein strained his ears to hear their conversation.
“How long do you plan on keeping this up? You think help will actually come for you?”
“……”
“I’ve already gained full control of the central island. The opposition was uncoordinated. Crushing them was easier than taking candy from a newborn babe. Get it through your head, Felite. Your fate was sealed long ago.”
The man—Legul—sneered at his brother.
“I bet you’re thinking about the future of the islanders, aren’t you? You’ve always been meaninglessly altruistic. If you really feel that way, you should understand that the fastest way to end this rebellion is to make every citizen of Patura kneel before me.”
Legul seemed to gain strength with each word.
“If you care about the future of these islands, there is only one thing you can do. Tell me where the Rainbow Crown is. Spit it out.”
The Rainbow Crown. Wein flinched.
The name had come up while he was researching Patura. Its true form was—
“Brother…I have looked up to you since we were kids,” Felite said suddenly. “No one could match you as a seaman. I, an ordinary layman, always admired you. I was certain you would be the next Ladu.”
“Oh, so you’ve come around.” Legul pressed him to continue.
“However,” Felite said. “Do you honestly think I would hand over the islands to our parents’ murderer? Leave this place, Legul Zarif! Glory will never come to someone who chases the edges of a rainbow without thinking about the rest of us!”
Metal clanged. Legul had struck the iron bars.
“You think you can tell me what to do? You—the second-choice Ladu?” Legul’s voice was thick with unbridled rage. “Don’t get carried away, Brother. Have you forgotten that my mercy is the only reason you’re still clinging to your pathetic life?”
“You’re the one who’s forgotten the unforgettable. I imagine you’ll never remember it… I hate to see you this way, Brother.”
“…It seems I’ll have to remind you of your place.” Legul radiated the primal urge to kill. “Take him to the interrogation room. Use whatever methods you want. Make him tell you where the Rainbow Crown is.”
“U-understood!”
“Rejoice, Felite. Once you confess, I will snap your neck myself… I’m going back up. Tell me as soon as he says anything.”
His business finished, Legul turned on his heel. He passed by Wein’s cell again—and stopped.
“…Hey, who’s this kid?”
“Ah, a crew member that was thrown overboard from a suspicious ship we spotted the other day. We’re keeping him captive until we find out more…”
“And you’re treating him like this?”
Wein was not living the life of a normal prisoner—equipped with a fancy bed and desk.
“Um, well, uh…”
How could the soldier possibly explain?
It was Wein who came to his rescue.
“Ah, I’m very sorry. I have a weak constitution, and I had them prepare more than I should have been given.”
“Th-that’s right. It would spell trouble if something happened before we finished our investigation, so…”
Legul looked at Wein’s complexion and snorted. “Hmph. You’re telling me this man is frail? If you’re trying to make a quick buck, you should at least hide it from me. If you dare get on my nerves, I’ll make sure you sink in the sea—ship and all.”
“Y-yes, sir!” The solider nodded over and over.
Legul fixed Wein with one final side-eyed glare before leaving the room. The remaining soldiers shuffled out, dragging Felite to the interrogation room.
Now all alone, Wein leaned against the stone wall, whispering to himself:
“Well, what am I gonna do?”
A handful of days had passed since Wein had been brought to this place.
In that time, he’d achieved nothing.
Ever since the interaction with Legul, the soldiers on patrol had started to act like they were being watched, snubbing Wein and rejecting his attempts to establish a conversation.
As for Felite, he’d been battered in the interrogation room, leaving him too exhausted to talk.
At this rate, he won’t last much longer, Wein assessed.
Obviously, he didn’t want his information bank to die. Wein had tried to offer him food through the iron bars, but Felite would refuse each time, saying very little. Even the prince thought it was a lost cause.
If only he felt like there was some chance of rescue…
Wein looked through the bars of his cell window. He had wrapped a white cloth around one of the bars, which flapped outside like a tail. Wein had fashioned it from a ripped corner of his bedsheet.
He could see gray clouds in the distant sky. The whistling wind carried the voices of the patrol guards outside.
“Wind is really picking up,” one of them noted.
“It’s unavoidable this time of year, but this is something else. Storm might be brewing.”
“I sure hope we don’t capsize while on patrol.”
He listened to the guards in the distance as he lay on his bed.
…I hope they make it in time.
Wein shut his eyes, lying there silently.
Things began to change once the sun went down.
Wein thought he heard something: muffled voices coming from the guards’ usual spot. As he jumped up from the bed, someone came sprinting down the dimly lit corridor.
“Wein…!”
It was Ninym. She raced toward him, almost tripping over herself, and he held out his hands through the iron bars. Ninym drew near enough to stroke his face.
“I’m so glad you’re okay…!”
“Yeah, somehow. I’m relieved to see you got away.”
“Forget about me! We have to get you out of there…!”
It took her several tries to get the key in the lock—hands fumbling from relief or panic. When Ninym finally opened the cell door, she flung herself into Wein’s arms.
“Are you okay?! Did they hurt you while you were captured?! Is there anything unusual about your body?!”
“I’m okay, really.”
Ninym blurted out a stream of questions as she checked over Wein’s entire body, patting him down. Wein stroked her back, drawing her closer.
“Why did you have to be so reckless and jump into the ocean for me…?!”
“I thought it’d be better than you getting captured.”
“You shouldn’t be thinking about me! You didn’t have to do that!”
“Don’t be this way. That’s what was the best choice for me.”
Ninym pounded on his chest. He let this go on for some time.
“Your Highness, Lady Ninym,” ventured a nervous voice from behind her.
Ninym quickly unwound herself from Wein’s arms.
“Hurry. There isn’t much time.”
Ninym wasn’t the only one who had sneaked in. Two soldiers from Natra had joined her in this rescue mission.
“R-right. —Your Highness, we’ve prepared a boat for your rescue. We must escape before we’re found.”
Ninym cleared her throat, marking her switch from normal girl to loyal servant. Wein nodded and exited the cell, but he stopped right before the one next to him.
“Your Highness…?”
“Ninym, open this cell.”
“Y-yes.” Ninym obliged, though she seemed hesitant, and immediately noticed the limp human form collapsed in the cell. She rushed over to take his pulse.
“How is he?”
“…He’s alive, but severely weakened. He’ll be in trouble if we leave him here. Who is this man?”
“Patura’s trump card.” Wein smiled. “Well, he has the potential to be.”
“You want to take him with us?”
“Can we?”
“As long as he’s the only one.”
Ninym gave orders to one of the soldiers to carry the man out. The group would consist of one person in need of protection, one extra load, and two people to clear a path. But that shouldn’t pose any problems.
“Well, then, Your Highness. We must leave as quickly and quietly as possible.”
With Ninym leading the way, they continued soundlessly down the hallway.
In the commander’s room, Legul stared outside, stewing in his bad mood.
His plan was proceeding almost exactly as intended. After being exiled, Legul had connected with foreign dignitaries and increased his influence, waiting for an opportune moment. When his chance came, he disguised himself as a pirate and murdered his father, who had set out to subjugate him, under cover of a storm. After that, he raided central Patura and made it his own. Legul declared himself the rightful heir, subduing opposing islands with force—
Everything was going well. It was just as he’d planned.
Aside from knowing the location of the Rainbow Crown.
…Without the hidden treasure, I will never completely dominate these waters…!
He knew Felite had acted as bait so his subordinates could escape with the Rainbow Crown. Any sort of clue would help, but it seemed his rival had taken proper precautions. Legul still hadn’t been able to uncover anything.
“—Pardon me, Master Legul.” Just then, one of his own subordinates entered the room. “We’ve received a report from our spies.”
“Anything about the Rainbow Crown?”
“No, a separate matter. We’ve received word that a foreign delegation has been staying with Voras for several days.”
“A foreign delegation?”
In Patura, there were six figures who worked for the Ladu—the sea teachers, called Kelil. Voras was the oldest Kelil, who’d been serving the Zarif since the previous Ladu. Although his fleet was small, it was powerful. Legul couldn’t take him lightly.
“Where exactly is the delegation from?”
“We cannot say for certain, but we have reason to believe they’re from Soljest. We have confirmed one of its leaders is among the group.”
“Soljest, huh…?”
Legul started to think. Could Voras have called on them in the middle of this mess?
Something wasn’t adding up. The delegation was arriving much too soon. Its visit must be pure coincidence.
But what would happen if Voras asked Soljest for aid?
I can’t imagine Soljest will intervene. They have no obligation to go to such lengths to save Patura, and they gain nothing from it. Even if they do send reinforcements, I’ll have everything settled by the time they arrive from their far-Northern nation.
The subordinate continued. “We’ve received a report that the delegation is looking for someone.”
“Looking for someone? Alois or Felite?”
“Someone else, apparently. We don’t have the details, but a member of the delegation fell overboard during their journey. Our guess is that this person is of incredibly high standing.”
“……”
For some reason, Legul found himself thinking about the young man he had seen in a jail cell several days prior. The prisoner had had the audacity to ask Legul’s men to fill his cell with stuff, and he hadn’t faltered under Legul’s gaze. But according to a subordinate’s report, he was just a merchant from Soljest.
“…Send someone to the jail immediately. There’s another prisoner besides Felite. Bring him here.”
“What?” The subordinate hesitated for a second before nodding. “I mean, yes, sir. Understood.”
“Pardon me!” The doors burst open, slammed open by another soldier.
“We just received an urgent message from the guards! The prisoners have escaped!”
“What?!” Legul stared at him before whipping over to look out the window.
Outside the fortress, in the darkness of night, the wind was starting to pick up.
Wein’s rescue group had slipped out of the fortress and was headed to an empty beach away from the facility.
“Your Highness, please watch your step.”
“I know.” Wein glanced to the side, eyeing Felite, who had been hoisted onto a soldier’s back. He was still unconscious, and it didn’t seem like he’d stir anytime soon.
Wein wasn’t sure if they’d be able to treat him in time.
The group arrived at its destination: a midsize boat where a group of people were waiting for them.
“Ah, you’ve all returned.”
They looked at the rescue team, tense expressions melting with joy and relief.
“We were able to save His Highness, thanks to you,” Ninym replied.
“Then this person must be…”
“Yes, this is His Highness, Prince Wein,” Ninym introduced, and the prince stepped forward.
The members of the other party immediately dropped to their knees.
“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Prince Wein. We’re…”
“Merchants of Salendina, right?” He took their hands one by one. “You were the reason I was able to escape. I’m eternally grateful.”
“Please… We do not deserve your thanks.” Their shoulders trembled. “It is nothing compared to the kindness the royal family has extended to us Flahm.”
The Flahm. Each person now kneeling before him was one.
Salendina Company was run by Flahm.
I never imagined they’d help me in this way.
Of course, Wein had known about the company even before everything went down. Salendina didn’t operate on a large scale—most of its wares went to Patura’s central island, which allowed it connections everywhere on the archipelago. He’d figured Ninym would go to these people for help, refusing to give up on her search.
That was why he’d leveraged the ransom to make the guards contact the company. Sure enough, this had tipped off Ninym that Wein had been captured by Legul’s fleet and taken to the fortress. With the merchants, she’d quietly crept toward the fortress by ship, pinpointed Wein’s location by the cloth flapping against the iron bars, and waited for a particularly blustery day that would mask any sound as they went in to rescue him.
“I was planning to meet in an official capacity with the mighty clan in the South. I’m sorry for putting you in danger on your home turf.”
“What are you saying?” A man shook his head. “I heard that our ancestors, like all other Flahm, were oppressed by the state. I’m sure your kingdom was a beacon of hope as they traversed the barren wilderness to make their way to the North. Now, after all these years, there is no greater honor than being able to look upon the countenance of His Highness, who carries the blood of those great kings, to say nothing of helping save his life.”
The Flahm wasn’t exaggerating. There had been a time when Natra was the only nation to treat the Flahm as people. At present, the influence of the Empire had made the eastern half of the continent follow suit. A future in Natra must have been the thing that had given the Flahm hope.
“But won’t this put Salendina in a tough position?”
“You need not worry. We’re used to being shunned. In fact, we’re prepared to go into hiding at any moment. As long as our people are safe, we can wait until things calm down and start business anew.”
“I see… I promise to reward you once everything is over.”
“Understood. We would be most grateful.”
The Flahm bowed their heads low.
A soldier called out, “Your Highness, we are prepared for departure.”
“I see. Well, then—Hmm?” Wein suddenly felt something behind him and glanced over his shoulder.
He saw flickering flames weaving through the darkness. The fortress torches. There were more of them lit than before the escape. It seemed they’d been found out somehow.
“We better get going. Ninym, where to?” Wein asked, clambering aboard.
“The vessel and its crew are under the protection of Princess Tolcheila’s acquaintance, who goes by the name of Voras. We should return there for now and consider our next steps.”
“Voras… One of those powerful Kelil leaders, right? Sounds good. Let’s get going.”
“—Wait.”
Everyone stopped in their tracks. Their eyes all shifted toward Felite, whom a soldier had been trying to carry onto the boat.
“You’re awake,” Wein said. “Sorry for taking you without permission.”
Felite offered a weak smile. “I’m grateful for that, so don’t apologize—Prince Wein.”
So he knew Wein was the prince. He had either overheard their conversation or connected the dots himself.
“I must warn you of the ship’s destination. I will be frank: You should not go to Voras.”
“Why?”
“Because of the wind.” Felite pointed up to the sky, wincing. The pain from the wounds he’d received during his interrogation must have been coming back. “The winds at this time of year…turn into storms. If you try to go to Voras’s island, you’ll be rendered immobile halfway. Meaning there is a good chance Legul’s fleet will catch up and capture us.”
“A storm, huh…?” Wein took in the sky.
The stars had dimmed under the clouds rolling in. The wind was still blowing, but Wein wasn’t sure if it would grow into a full-blown storm. But Felite’s opinion, as that of an island native, was worth taking into consideration.
“What should we do if a storm is coming? It’s not like we can stay here, right?”
Felite pointed. “Go east. I have a hideout on a small island there. It’s only known to me and a few others. Our pursuers won’t find us, and we should…be able…to ride out the…”
“Ah, hey!”
Felite fainted before finishing his sentence.
“…What do you think, Your Highness?”
Should they go to Voras or Felite’s hideout?
Wein considered Ninym’s question for a few seconds.
“We’ll go east.”
They boarded the ship, ready to sail across the sea in the darkness of night.
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