Fish Don't Know About Water - Chapter 12

“Esca, you damn bastard…”

That damned bastard. Could it be that he knew the woman’s identity and kept his mouth shut? He barely held back his laughter when handing over the list of nurses…

At this point, Viett, his younger brother, was also suspicious. Maybe those two were plotting together. Not just to mess with him, but to dethrone him from the position of Crown Prince.

“Those damned traitorous bastards…”

Minute cursed his brother. He’s pretending not to be interested in the throne, but in the end, he was just another Hartmann.

Damn bastards! Just as the sharp sting of betrayal made him bite his lip.

“Extra! Extra! Hot off the press from our ally Westenia! Extra!”

A loud shout came through the slightly open window. It was the voice of a newspaper boy.

Here it comes. Minute swallowed his tears and buried his face deep in the pillow. Now it was time to hear all the criticisms directed at the Crown Prince of Westenia.

“Second Prince of Westenia, Viett Hartmann, got rejected by Little Lady Pepe in Costonia!”

The excited shout of the newspaper boy continued.

“He went to confess with gifts and flowers last night but got ignored!”

…Second Prince? Viett went to see that woman with flowers? Minute lifted his head and looked at the window. He definitely heard Second Prince…

“A brawler from Desfield Military School! The royal family’s problem child! The scoundrel who has already switched fiancées four times!”

The newspaper boy’s booming voice sealed the deal. The area in front of the hotel, usually only filled with the occasional honk of a horn, suddenly became chaotic.

Minute jumped up and stealthily approached the window. Peeking through the curtain, he saw adults surrounding a tousle-haired boy.

“Hey kid, is that true?”

“Yes, the Second Prince went to the Little Lady with flowers and gifts, but she coldly rejected him! Extra! Extra!”

“Did the Second Prince also performed a serenade for the Little Lady?”

A gentleman who had been pestering the boy for a newspaper suddenly asked. The boy handed over the newspaper tucked under his arm and shook his head.

“That’s not in the newspaper! It wasn’t in the novel either!”

“He must have planned to play a serenade under the moonlight.”

The gentleman, unfolding the newspaper, snorted.

“I think I heard somewhere that my distant cousin from Desfield Military School mentioned the prince’s piano skills were quite exceptional.”

“That’s ridiculous. Do you think there’s an expensive piano in a nurse’s dormitory?”

An old lady retorted. She poked the side of a young man, who seemed to be her son, and grumbled.

“Did you hear that? Even royalty goes to a woman’s house with flowers at night to woo her! Do you think a wife will just fall into your lap if you sit idly by?”

“The brothers are quite romantic. I heard the Crown Prince also wooed his wife by visiting her mansion with a bouquet at night.”

Ignoring his mother’s nagging, the son focused on the newspaper. Minute, who had been blankly watching the scene from the second floor, slowly returned to the bed. Collapsing onto the bed, he impulsively shouted.

“I’m saved!”

Vivi! You saved me! He clasped his hands in prayer, trembling with joy.

As if he had never cursed and damned his younger sibling, his affection for Viett surged uncontrollably. He wanted to rush to Costonia and hug Viett tightly.

— Your Highness.

At that moment, a respectful yet cold voice came from above his head. Minute twisted his neck to look up at the bedside. The voice of Minister Hinler Heinz of the Ministry of Magic was coming from the roughly tossed pocket watch.

— Your Highness? Are you there?

He picked up the old pocket watch and opened the lid. The voice of the Minister of Magic flowed from the watch, whose hands had stopped.

— If there is no one around, please connect the communication.

Minute recalled the unique communication number of the Minister of Magic. He set the hour hand to 7, the minute and second hands to 1 and 11 respectively, and lightly tapped the back of the pocket watch twice with his fingertip.

“Minister? What brings you here so early?”

He held the pocket watch to his mouth and spoke in a startled voice. After a brief silence, the Minister of Magic replied bluntly.

— It’s almost tea time, Your Highness. I understand that Westenia and Sachella, where you are, have no time difference.

“Didn’t you ask to refrain from communication for a while due to the risk of eavesdropping?”

— It’s an emergency, so it can’t be helped. But we must finish the communication within a minute.

Minister Hinler sighed as he replied.

— The incident you caused last night…

“Me causing an incident? Wasn’t it something Viett did?”

— …I misspoke.

The minister ignored Minute’s skillful jest.

— Then, I’ll keep it brief.

He seemed ready to cut off the conversation at any moment. Minute quickly spoke what was on his mind before the minister could end the communication.

“What about Father?”

— His mobility is still limited, but fortunately, everything else is fine.

“I’m not asking about his health. I’m wondering if he was angry about last night… Did he say anything about me?”

— The Crown Prince did nothing wrong, so there is no reason for His Majesty to be angry.

Minister Hinler replied in a detached voice. Minute felt the lingering anxiety lift completely and smiled broadly.

“Of course not. I asked a foolish question.”

— Then, I will take my leave.

At the same time, the lid of the pocket watch closed with a snap. Minute stared blankly at the tarnished watch ornament before cheering loudly.

“Yes! I was worried for nothing! There’s no way Father would abandon me!”

He felt like he had come back to life. Despite the ongoing war, the world seemed as beautiful as heaven. He vowed never to be swayed by another woman again and closed his eyes peacefully.

“Amelia. From now on, I will be faithful only to you.”

And soon, he fell into a deep sleep, snoring loudly. The exhaustion from staying up all night in agony led him into a dreamless, deep slumber.

* * *

Viett stopped the pathetic act of blaming someone. There were many causes for this situation anyway.

The newspaper company that ambiguously labeled titles, the Little Lady who seemed unaware of the term ‘Crown Prince,’ the people who got excited reading the novel, himself and Esca, who foolishly hoped to correct his brother’s womanizing ways.

And a father who sacrificed one child to protect the eldest.

There was no point in being disappointed. It was obvious who the king would protect. It was no surprise that he sacrificed Viett instead of the precious eldest son.

However, it was unexpected that there had been no contact after the scandal broke. He thought there would at least be a telegram explaining the situation. Viett found his father’s indifference suffocating and tiresome.

Minute was equally silent. He hadn’t apologized to the brother who took the blame, nor had he contacted him for a whole day.

His attempts to communicate via the pocket watch were ignored. Viett learned in the evening that Minute was holed up in a hotel, sleeping soundly.

He had long been exasperated by his brother’s shamelessness, but he never thought Minute would keep his mouth shut after causing such a major incident.

Because of his brother’s irresponsible nature, Viett had to endure annoying whispers throughout his meal in the officers’ mess.

“A man who is a prince of a country is no different in the face of love.”

“Seeing him eat normally, it seems he didn’t break his head from falling from the second floor.”

High-ranking officers from the allied nation of Sandlake glanced at him and whispered, believing firmly that Viett couldn’t understand their language.

Viett considered startling the foreign officers by saying, ‘Fortunately, my head is fine,’ but decided against it to avoid drawing more attention.

While he shamelessly sat at an empty window seat and ate, some fellow officers occasionally patted his shoulder and said, ‘Congratulations.’

Congratulations? What nonsense. Just as he frowned at the absurdity, the bustling dining hall suddenly fell silent. The fellow officers who had been glancing at him and whispering shifted their gazes to the window.

Viett followed their gaze. Phenelity Cochrun was pressed against the glass, staring at him.

Her hair was even more disheveled than usual, and her apron was a mess of bloodstains, indicating she had just finished transporting the injured.