Chapter 88

Mr. Buck spent this time very fulfilling. Every afternoon, he came to teach
the prince dancing. Sometimes the priest accompanied them, and sometimes he
didn’t. Whenever the priest wasn’t there, the prince would intentionally or
unintentionally inquire about any stories between Mr. Buck and the priest.

During his stay at the Church, the prince noticed that almost every monk in
the church admired the priest, each having their own “story” with
him. Whether the priest had helped them, inspired them, or even some childhood
anecdotes about the priest… These stories often sounded exaggerated,
portraying the priest as a saint. Yet, the prince still found them fascinating,
trying to decipher what the priest’s true intentions might have been at the
time.

“Oh, really,” the prince suppressed a smile. “The priest
rescued an injured bird. That sounds beautiful.”

Mr. Buck nodded. “Yes, the bird’s wing was grazed by a bullet and
happened to land on the altar. No one expected someone to dare to shoot near
the church. Everyone was terrified, but the priest… He wasn’t a priest at
that time. Amidst the chaos, only the priest noticed the injured bird. Though
he couldn’t see, his spiritual perception was broader than anyone else’s. He
picked up the wounded bird, and its cries gradually quieted in his arms. Oh, it
was a scene one couldn’t forget.”

The prince squinted, imagining the blonde priest holding the bleeding bird
beneath the altar. If he were a painter, he might have felt the urge to paint
the priest right there.

“Did the bird survive?” he asked.

“Of course,” Mr. Buck replied. “The priest released it
himself. The poor little thing circled above the priest’s head several times
before reluctantly flying away.”

“That’s wonderful.”

The prince suspected that perhaps the priest’s true thoughts were more
inclined to roasting the bird and eating it. However, for the sake of his
reputation, he had to reluctantly let it go.

With an evil smirk on his face, the prince made Mr. Buck shiver slightly.

“Today is my last time teaching you. I must say, Your Highness, you
have learned remarkably well. I believe you will win the admiration of all the
ladies at the ball.”

Mr. Buck bid farewell politely, and the prince had Bill drive him home. He
had prepared some money and gifts for Mr. Buck, but he hadn’t mentioned it
beforehand. He didn’t like being thanked.

The Chief of the Guards came from the palace, asking how the prince’s
dancing lessons were going. The prince modestly replied, and the Chief laughed
heartily, patting the prince’s shoulder. “I knew dancing wouldn’t be a
challenge for you.”

The prince smiled faintly, but the Chief’s praise didn’t particularly please
him. He was destined to disappoint the Chief at the ball anyway. Learning to
dance was just to please the priest; he didn’t plan to invite anyone to dance
at the ball. Let Sherman enjoy the limelight.

The Chief wasn’t one for frivolous conversation either, and his expression
gradually became serious. “Randes, the front line in Falkland has
completely collapsed.”

The smile faded from the prince’s face. “Sharman is useless.”

“It’s too late for such remarks. Sharman’s retreat has dealt a severe
blow to the morale of the army. The revolutionaries are like a pack of mad
dogs, attacking anyone in sight. At this rate, Falkland will fall within a
month.”

The Falklands was a crucial hub connecting the entire Lecy. If it fell, it
would be a great misfortune for the Lecy royal family. The revolutionaries
would be everywhere, and they couldn’t be stopped.

Brune wanted to go to the front lines to fight, but his duty was to guard
the palace completely. He couldn’t leave Fort Ess for even a day. Brune said
with concern, “Randes, Oss is a peaceful and tranquil place. I know you’ve
put a lot of effort into it. But Randes, now it’s a matter of life and death
for Lecy. You must, I repeat, you must contribute the strength of Oss, unite
everyone, and solve the problem.”

Randes replied calmly, “Since I received news of Sharman’s defeat, I
knew this day would come sooner or later.”

“I shouldn’t be the one saying this, but I’m ashamed, Randes. The royal
family has neglected you for so long.”

“Neglect? I don’t think so. Living in Oss, I feel free and happy.
Enough, Brune. Let’s end this discussion about whether you owe me or not. I
don’t care about that. I need a clear answer and a date. I need a proper title
to represent Lecy. This isn’t about my personal honor but about truly uniting
all available forces. Otherwise, my brothers will surely do something to
undermine me.”

Brune truly felt ashamed because he thought about Sharman’s actions during
the epidemic. He knew Randes was right. There were too many fools in the
Hackett family, short-sighted and selfish, not truly considering the interests
of Lecy.

“I came today to assure you, Randes, that tomorrow the king will issue
a decree appointing Father Eugene as the bishop of this district. Before the
ball, Father Eugene will baptize you. The day after the ball, it will be
officially announced that you will directly assume the throne of Lecy.”

Upon hearing such good news, Randes remained calm. For him, this wasn’t
about honor but about responsibility, the longing buried deep in his heart.

Suddenly, the prince wanted to see the priest. He wanted to inform him of
this news, although the priest might not be pleased. For the priest, achieving
his goals was still far away.

After conveying the orders, the Chief of the Guards prepared to leave. The
prince then asked the monks where the priest had gone. Learning that the priest
had gone to the slums to give alms again, he smiled faintly, feeling a sense of
intimacy and happiness in his heart. “This little priest who loves to put
on airs.”

The prince called for his attendant and had him drive the carriage to the
Colby District.

Bill was somewhat reluctant. The last time the prince went to the Colby
District, he was stuck there for two weeks and even encountered the danger of
the epidemic. The slums were a breeding ground for disease. Bill said,
“Your Highness, do you want to go there? If you want to meet someone, I
can have them brought here.”

“Stop babbling,” the prince said, leaning on his cane. Suddenly,
he felt light-hearted, as if he were going for an outing. He walked past Bill
briskly. “Hurry and prepare the carriage.”

Bill could only sigh and comply. He muttered, “You should take care of
yourself. The ball is coming soon. Can’t you rest in the church until
then?” The prince lifted his cane and lightly tapped Bill’s leg.
“Listen to me.”

The carriage traveled through the streets of the capital. The prince looked
out the window at the scenery. He hadn’t been in the mood to see if the capital
had changed over the years, but now he suddenly felt different, finding the
city’s scenery quite pleasing. The signs of the shops on the roadside were new,
and the fruits on the fruit stalls had vibrant colors.

“Stop the carriage.”

The prince called for a stop and got off, walking to a fruit stall by the
street. His appearance startled the vendor, but his imposing aura made the
vendor smile.

The prince picked up an apple and sniffed it lightly, feeling the sweet
aroma. It made him smile involuntarily, though not because of the apple itself.
“I’ll take a bag of apples.”

With the bag of fragrant apples in hand, the prince returned to the
carriage. On the way, he took out each apple and smelled it.

Apples were ordinary to the prince. There was a large apple orchard in Oss,
so what made these apples so enchanting, intoxicating? What made the mundane
street scenes suddenly interesting?

The prince smiled, feeling the indescribable sweetness of love.

Now he really wanted to see the priest immediately, couldn’t wait until
dinner. They hadn’t had much private time together these past few days. The
priest was busy, and the prince had to entertain the various noble ministers
who came to court favor upon hearing the news that the prince might inherit the
throne. The prince didn’t like this kind of socializing, but he understood that
it was necessary to be a good king. Being a good king wasn’t about doing things
according to one’s own preferences but about doing the right things.

The prince hadn’t had intimate time with the priest for a long time. Today,
he was going to see the priest with a gift… This looked like a date…

The word “date” made the prince’s heart flutter. After a while, he
called for the carriage to stop again and bought a bouquet of flowers.

Bill was somewhat puzzled. He could understand buying apples, but why
flowers? He looked at the prince with a smile plastered on his face.

Bill’s gaze reminded the prince, bringing a brief moment of clarity to his
love-filled mind.

Oh, yes, buying flowers was too obvious. Wouldn’t everyone realize there was
something special between him and the priest? 

The prince hesitated on the carriage, torn between options, and after a
while, he handed out the bouquet of flowers. “Give these out.”

“Huh?” Bill looked puzzled.

The prince’s expression was stern. “Go and distribute these
flowers.”

Bill asked, “You mean to whom?”

“Anyone, just distribute them. Stop wasting time.”

Bill stopped the carriage and handed out the freshly bought flowers to the
children on the roadside. He wondered if the prince was acting strangely today.
Had he suffered some aftereffects from the epidemic?

Compared to when the prince left the Corby District, it had returned to its
usual chaotic state. Sewage flowed again on the streets, and the smell of
garbage permeated the air. As soon as the prince got off the carriage, he
attracted attention.

“Your Highness—”

“It’s His Highness—”

“Oh, my, Your Highness, you’re here too—”

The crowd surrounded him. As a beloved lord, this wasn’t new to the prince.
However, the bag of apples in his hand was somewhat conspicuous. People spoke
to him affectionately, casting warm glances at him. Their eyes lingered on the
bag emitting the aroma of fruit.

The prince felt like the bag of apples was being punctured by the eager
gazes. Reluctantly, he raised his hand and handed the bag to Bill, giving him a
meaningful look.

Bill took the bag with a strange expression, feeling a bit awkward. He said
to the crowd, “The prince bought some apples for you all…”

Buying a bag of apples to give out in the slums, Bill thought the prince was
acting oddly today. He couldn’t understand it. Perhaps that was the prince’s
uniqueness?

Finally free from the crowd with empty hands, the prince found someone to
inquire about the priest’s whereabouts. The person pointed in a direction, and
the prince asked around until he found himself in a place that seemed
increasingly familiar.

The flowing river made the prince suddenly realize—he was standing in front
of the broken shack where he had rested during the epidemic!

The prince wondered, “What is he doing here? Is he commemorating what
happened between us in the past?”

The prince hastened his steps, and the green grass under his cane oozed
refreshing juice. Approaching the shack, he saw the golden hair and smiled.
“Father—”

The breeze scattered the golden hair as the priest turned his face. Just
that simple turn made the prince’s heart surge with emotions.

Quickening his pace, the prince approached, “Father.”

But as he reached out to touch the priest’s shoulder, the priest slightly
turned away, avoiding his touch. “Your Highness, what brings you here
suddenly?”

“I…”

The priest nodded towards the shack.

The prince’s excitement subsided as he immediately understood the priest’s
meaning.

Someone was inside the shack.

“I came to inspect the current situation in the Colby District.”

The prince said solemnly.

“You’re really kind. With your concern, the Colby District will surely
improve.”

The prince pretended to look at the shack behind the priest, “Who’s
inside?”

“It’s a poor soul afflicted with disease,” the priest lightly held
the prince’s arm, “Please wait, I’ll be out in a moment after talking to
him.”

“Is it serious? Does he need a doctor?”

The priest shook his head with compassion. “Let me pray for him to
God.”

The prince understood and took a step back, leaning on his cane.

The priest turned and opened the rickety door. The light inside was dim, and
the prince could only vaguely see shadows on the wall.

The priest closed the door of the shack.

The man with the hood pulled down approached the priest and spoke in a low
voice, “Is there a prince outside?”

“Yes, you heard right,” the priest also kept his voice low.

“In that case, let me rush out and kill him—”

“Don’t act rashly,” the priest said coldly, “Achill, have you
forgotten what you promised me?”

If anyone else were present or heard that name, they would surely be
shocked. How could the number one killer of the revolutionaries appear in the
slums of the capital?!

Achill’s handsome face tensed up, his hand gripping the knife handle
tightly. He said stiffly, “I’ll do as you say, Eugene.”