He asked again even though he had clearly understood the answer. Despite being the one who had posed the question, he looked as though he had never expected to receive an immediate yes.
And understandably so. It was an assignment even the knights, accustomed as they were to such things, were reluctant to undertake.
Schwartz studied Ian for a moment. Ian had merely nodded with complete nonchalance, as though he neither knew nor cared what awaited him.
At last, Schwartz let out a quiet sigh.
“I apologize for… bringing Rox into it. The way you agreed without hesitation makes me feel rather foolish.”
Even Schwartz, who had been tasked with delivering the message, could not fathom the Grand Duke’s intentions.
He recalled Logan’s face the previous evening, when he had brought up Ian.
—I’m thinking of taking him along.
As always, his tone had left no room for the other person’s opinion.
With Logan, I’m thinking of doing it was no different from It will be done. Everyone knew that refusing him for no good reason would only leave them worse off.
Logan was not a man who offered many chances.
Nor did he hesitate to resort to unconventional methods when there was something he wanted.
If this prince’s weakness was his homeland, then scenes like the one that had just unfolded would likely become an everyday occurrence.
Even so, Schwartz was left with a bitter taste in his mouth.
He had always despised methods that involved trampling on the weak. Although he had obtained the answer the Grand Duke wanted, he felt no relief whatsoever.
Ian, unlike Schwartz, remained perfectly composed.
He had no attachment to Rox at all.
It was a country he knew only by name, a place he had never seen and knew virtually nothing about. If he were being honest, he did not particularly care what happened to it.
Besides, judging by the circumstances, hadn’t Rox more or less sold him off to an enemy nation?
Still, that was not why Ian had agreed.
He had no idea what exactly an expedition entailed, but one thing seemed certain: it would give him another opportunity to encounter that man.
There had to be a reason he had been singled out instead of any of the other knights.
And in fact, Ian had a vague idea of what that reason might be.
It came from the things he had unintentionally overheard while wandering outside his room.
──To think he still hasn’t taken a wife.
Most people were careful about what they said around him, but they could hardly take back words that had already slipped out while passing through the corridors.
The hushed conversations, spoken as though someone might overhear them at any moment, were usually about the knights or the Grand Duke.
A wife.
Marriage.
An heir.
In particular, the servants seemed deeply anxious over the fact that the Grand Duke still had no children.
From what Ian could tell, the man looked to be only in his late twenties, so it hardly seemed like something worth worrying about so urgently.
But after remembering what Kyle had once told him, Ian could more or less understand why they were concerned.
Hadn’t he said they all died young?
If Ian remembered correctly, members of that bloodline tended to die suddenly, as though struck down by some unforeseen cause, sometime in their early to mid-thirties.
The physically frail Grand Duke had yet to take a wife, much less name an heir.
From the servants’ perspective, it was understandable that they would be endlessly worried.
If their master suddenly died, the positions they had worked so hard to secure would become uncertain overnight. There was no guarantee that whoever inherited the estate would retain them.
Perhaps that was also why no one had protected him during the attack.
A man who wielded this much power yet had no successor would inevitably be tempting prey to certain people.
If that were the case, then everything fit together.
The sudden attempt on his life.
The knights who had stood by and watched.
The unease among the servants.
Half of Ian’s reasoning was correct.
The other half was absurdly off the mark.
But with what little information he had, it was the best conclusion he could reach.
“The next expedition is in a month.”
A month had already passed since Ian had opened his eyes in this place.
The knights had returned roughly two weeks ago, which meant they would be setting out again in less than two months.
He did not know whether expeditions normally took place that frequently.
Not that it particularly mattered.
Seeing Ian nod, Schwartz added reassuringly,
“You’ll be accompanying the Grand Duke, so there’s no need to worry.”
It would have been considerably more reassuring if he had also explained what, precisely, Ian was not supposed to worry about.
“More importantly, I heard you cannot use Shettian…”
Just when Ian thought the matter was finished, they moved straight on to the next subject.
Schwartz’s expression was unusually serious. He had probably heard about it from Ed.
On top of that, the other three, who had been quietly listening to Schwartz until now, all turned their attention toward Ian at once.
For some reason, Ian suddenly felt as though he had been reduced to some helpless simpleton.
“Unfortunately, there is no one here who knows the Rox language.”
With the wall erected along the border, exchanges between the two nations had now ceased entirely.
Originally, Rox had sent interpreters who could speak both Shettian and the Rox language along with Ian, but every one of them had been murdered.
“It would be best for you to learn the script, at least for basic communication. It’s fortunate that you have no trouble understanding what people say… but surely there must be things you wish to say as well.”
They could request someone from the royal capital, but there was no guarantee anyone would volunteer to come.
And considering Ian would soon be joining an expedition, Schwartz had a point.
Aily, who had been nodding beside him, joined in.
“Then find him a proper teacher. Shettian is quite difficult for foreigners to learn.”
“Ah, that is true. Then, Aily, perhaps you could—”
“No. I am far too high-level a talent. It would be a waste of resources.”
She cut him off flatly before he could even finish the suggestion.
Aily’s sharp response was not entirely unreasonable.
Schwartz rubbed his chin, visibly troubled.
“Then what about me?”
The suggestion came from Kyle, who had been standing behind Ian like a shadow throughout the entire conversation.
Ian had actually been wondering why Kyle had remained so quiet. Normally, he would have found fault with something the commander said by now and snickered about it.
“I’m fairly free since I only just got back. I might not be as refined as those noble gentlemen, but the goal isn’t eloquence, is it? We just need to be able to communicate.”
“Kyle? But having a teacher who is too low-level is also a problem.”
“Wow. That’s cruel.”
Despite whining about being dismissed as low-level talent, Kyle did not look remotely offended.
He bent at the waist.
“In that respect, our prince and I actually have something in common.”
Kyle leaned over Ian’s shoulder and lowered his voice to a whisper.
“I could only listen too. I couldn’t write until I was about fifteen. But look at me now. Hey, I even submit reports directly to the Grand Duke.”
His breath brushed against Ian with every word.
Faced with Kyle casually closing the distance between them as though they were close friends, Ian briefly considered whether he should strike him in the jaw or simply tolerate it.
“Back off.”
As though sensing exactly what Ian was considering, Claude spoke in a gruff voice.
It was an order delivered without hesitation, despite the fact that he knew perfectly well Kyle would not obey quietly.
“Don’t want to.”
And, as expected, the habitually contrary Kyle seemed determined to take things one step further.
Anyone could see that he was deliberately reaching for Ian’s loosely arranged hair with a grin.
Claude’s brows drew together as Kyle wound several strands around his index finger and idly twirled them.
He looked at Kyle as though he were watching some vulgar hooligan with appalling manners.
Hostage or not, Ian was still royalty from another nation.
To Claude, who had been taught etiquette and law from an early age, Kyle’s behavior was blatant disrespect.
And since the people of Rox were said to cherish their hair, perhaps this would be a good opportunity to cut off Kyle’s fingers.
“Stop…”
Claude was just about to issue a curt warning.
Had Ian not turned his head at that exact moment, Claude might genuinely have asked the commander for permission to remove Kyle’s fingers.
“Hm?”
Until now, Ian had done little more than nod while sitting there with the blank expression of a doll.
So when he suddenly turned to look at him, Kyle stopped playing with his hair and met Ian’s gaze with unexpected gentleness.
“What is it?”
Ian stared up at him in silence, then made a small gesture telling him to come closer.
They had not known each other long, but this was the first time Kyle had ever seen Ian ask someone for anything.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
He lowered his head a little farther.
And then—
“Agh!”
Ian grabbed him by the hair.
It happened so suddenly that no one even thought to stop him.
Not that any of them particularly wanted to.
Everyone simply stared at Ian in astonishment.
Only a moment ago, he had been sitting there with flawless posture and an elegant, expressionless face.
Now he had a fistful of Kyle’s hair clenched in one hand.
Even Kyle himself blinked in confusion.
Then Ian tightened his grip.
“Aaagh!”
Pain shot across Kyle’s scalp.
“What’s this? Prince, are you trying to pick a fight with me?”
Judging by his tone alone, he sounded ready to grab Ian by the hair in return and turn the whole thing into a full-blown brawl.
Ian, whose hair was considerably longer than Kyle’s, would have been at a distinct disadvantage in that regard.
But the threat had no effect whatsoever.
And Kyle made no attempt to touch Ian’s hair.
“Alright, alright. You don’t want me touching it? It was all my fault for failing to understand our prince’s delicate feelings. So—agh—it really does hurt, you know?”