Chapter 20

The road to the palace was rough. The idea of taking a train was quickly dropped; since their entrance had to be secret, a carriage was chosen.

They traveled for half a day without rest. Finally, they arrived at the center of the capital, the royal palace. With his memory gone, the new sights should have seemed amazing, but George remained unchanged. He leaned back in the carriage, legs crossed, eyes closed. He was far too relaxed.

Petricks muttered to himself the whole way, ‘He’s really a pain.’ Of course, that attitude was just part of his nature. But there was one reason Petricks couldn’t know.

For George, the capital was just where Amber had lived, where she’d gone before him—nothing more, nothing less.

And that was more important than any personality trait.

“Yes. I’ve come back.”

Lost in thought, George looked up at the voice above his head. Things that held no meaning for him were right in front of his eyes now.

A dignified-looking man sat on the throne. His hair was white with age, his eyes blue, and his gaze indifferent… The words that self-proclaimed secretary had chattered about on the way here came to mind.

Those words were true.

The man—no, the King—was not pleased to see his son. According to what George had heard, he was returning after being missing for several months. Yet the King was neither pleased nor surprised. He looked at his son as if he were a passing stranger.

George felt the same. He thought it was remarkable how much they resembled each other, and that was the end of it.

“Yes. I’ve returned.”

George replied out of courtesy. He remembered Petricks’ advice not to reveal his memory loss, but it wasn’t conscious; his body just moved, like when greeting Mrs. Joren or at meals. The King nodded once and ordered him to leave.

“Go see the Crown Prince now. Your brother.”

He sounded bothered, as if shooing away a nuisance. Then he gestured more gently to the nearby dancers than he had to his own son.

…This family is a mess. He wondered just how pathetic his brother would be.

George’s lips twisted in a lopsided smile before returning to normal. He said he understood and left the audience chamber. Petricks, waiting outside, approached and asked, 

“Did he tell you to meet the Crown Prince?”

“Do I have to?”

“You says the same thing, before and after you lost your memory.”

How chilling is a person’s true nature? Petricks realized anew and led the Prince onward.

The Crown Prince, as always, was buried in paperwork. Without even looking up, he spoke.

“So. You’ve returned?”

Just like the King, except it was phrased as a question.

“Yes. I’ve returned.”

George replied in the same way. The Crown Prince didn’t even nod, just spoke absently.

“You must have met Father before me… Then go rest in your room and recover from the journey.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then how about meeting Lady Layla, daughter of the Marquis? She lost her husband recently.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Wasn’t your preference widows?”

He realized, thanks to Petricks’ hint, that this trashy comment was the result of his past behavior, but couldn’t help but grimace.

At that moment, the Crown Prince stopped twirling his pen.

“…No. For now, don’t meet anyone and stay in the palace. It’s better to be pure before the royal marriage.”

He resumed his paperwork, sliding the next file in front of him.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“I won’t do the royal marriage.”

“Hmm?”

Only then did the Crown Prince look at his brother. As always, the younger brother’s face was expressionless, but something felt different. In the past, he’d seemed empty, but now…

Well, that didn’t matter.

He glanced between the Prince and Petricks, as if doubting his ears, then spoke to the one who seemed more reasonable.

“Petricks. Tell my brother that matters of state between nations aren’t decided by personal desire.”

“As what you say, Your Highness.”

Petricks relayed the message. Even though he thought it was a waste of time to repeat it for someone who was clearly ready to argue, he had no choice. As expected, George retorted with sarcasm.

“Petricks. Tell my brother that no one can decide a person’s life for them.”

“As what you say, Your Highness.”

“Petricks. Tell my brother that royalty must sacrifice for the nation, and ask if he never learned that in royal studies—and also, calling your brother ‘that guy’ is basic rudeness.”

“As what you say, Your Highness.”

“Tell him I never learned that.”

“As what you say, Your Highness.”

“Ask him why he never learned it.”

“As what you say—”

“Tell him I have no memory.”

“As wh—oh, Your Highness!”

‘This crazy Prince! We were supposed to keep that secret!’

But the Crown Prince had already taken the bait.

“Why don’t you have any memory, Dieldo?”

The Crown Prince finally asked George. Leaning forward, fingers interlaced, his expression was serious—something like, ‘What nonsense is this?’ George shifted his legs and replied.

“I don’t know myself.”

“How much did you lose? You don’t seem to be an idiot.”

Apparently, he believed the memory loss. George chuckled.

“I thought I was a d*ldo. More precisely, I thought I became human from being a d*ldo.”

“…So you did become an idiot.”

The Crown Prince rubbed his chin.

“Is this true, Petricks?”

The question shifted to Petricks. Seeing Petricks pale when the memory loss was revealed, the Crown Prince seemed half-convinced.

Meanwhile, Petricks couldn’t read the Prince’s intentions. Hadn’t they understood each other in the carriage? He was sure he’d followed his advice…

“Prince, you must recover your memory quickly. Even if you never do, you mustn’t let anyone know you’ve lost it. Of course, I’ll help.”

“I’ll think about it.”

…So that wasn’t a definite answer. ‘I’ll think about it’—what an annoying response. Petricks couldn’t hide his frustration. He looked at the Prince with a ‘Why did you do this?’ expression, sighed, and answered.

“Yes. That’s right. He lost his memory and lived in a village called Napolia.”

“He lived off someone.”

“Yes. He even worked as a server at a restaurant.”

“As a server.”

The Crown Prince picked out the most unbelievable words and repeated them. Then he stared at George.

“But your personality is the same.”

It sounded like, ‘You can’t change what you’re born with.’ Petricks had thought the same on the way here. And now, for the second time…

“Brothers do resemble each other.”

‘…Your Highness, why would you say that aloud?’

Petricks looked between the two brothers, who were now criticizing each other’s terrible personalities.

“I’ll have to teach you manners from scratch. Preparing for a royal marriage will take quite some time.”

The Crown Prince muttered seriously, staring at the younger brother’s slouching posture and constantly fidgeting fingers. He seemed to think that while a libertine could be forced into a royal marriage, someone lacking basic manners was impossible.

Only now did Petricks realize why George claimed memory loss. The Crown Prince wouldn’t proceed with the marriage seeing his brother act like a commoner.

“Don’t you want to recover your memory, Dieldo?”

“Not really.”

“Hmm.”

The Crown Prince sighed briefly, looking troubled. Petricks was surprised by the Prince’s firm attitude. He knew the Prince had no interest in regaining his memory or his status, but… was he serious?

Petricks spoke again to the Crown Prince.

“…You may not remember, but I know someone who can help decisively.”

“Call that woman here immediately.”

The Crown Prince understood at once. He summoned a knight and ordered him to bring in the black-haired woman who had insulted the royal family. He added, unable to hide his annoyance,

“I’m curious how my clever brother ended up thinking he was a d*ldo, and how he lost his memory.”

His tone made clear his displeasure.

“I’ve heard I was no different from a d*ldo before.”

George, silent until now, finally spoke. Unlike his earlier sarcasm, his voice was calm.

“Yes. Petricks must have told you well. There wasn’t a day your name didn’t appear in the tabloids. No matter how much money we paid, it leaked.”

“So.”

It was then that George stepped toward the Crown Prince. His hand pressed firmly on the table.

Ah, no…

Watching the paperwork crumple, Petricks could only hope a major dispute wouldn’t break out.

Petricks was a pacifist. But those two were his superiors, and conflict between them would affect him greatly. He had no idea how much, having never experienced such a situation…

“I’ll just live quietly somewhere. There’s no place for me here, anyway.”

George’s expression was serious as he spoke. His cold blue eyes softened for a moment. After serving him for so long, Petricks could say he’d never seen such a sincere face from the Prince.

But the Crown Prince was unmoved.

“That’s because your place is in the Empire.”

“If the royal marriage is so important, I’d like to see you set an example.”

“…”

“Someone so devoted to royal studies.”

“…You’ve changed.”

The Crown Prince struck back sharply.

“Whose house did you live in?”

Sharp as it was, the content was rather pathetic.

After all, the status of Prince and the phrase ‘lived off someone’ were a strange match.

But no one in the room laughed. Asking whose house he lived in was asking who had changed him.

“…”

As if recalling someone, George’s eyes lowered. Shadows fell beneath his lashes.

George let go of the table and turned away a moment later. Deciding further persuasion was pointless, he left the Crown Prince’s office.

“Your—Your Highness!”

Petricks hurried after him, anxious.

“I’ll come back later.”

Just before leaving the office, Petricks added quickly. The Crown Prince waved him off.

“Fine. Just persuade him well.”

The brothers seemed to reject each other, refusing to communicate. Only Petricks knew how determined he was to quit this job one day.

“Whew…”

After they left, the Crown Prince set down his pen. There were still troublesome matters left for him, but one conclusion remained.

In any case, the Prince had returned to the royal family.

It had been about three months since his disappearance.