Wolf is one of those Stol people. His true name is Silver Wolf. In the Stol tongue, it’s Ten nengravle. Stol folk take their names from animals.
But to Wolf, Ten nengravle was a stranger’s name. He was Wolf, period—Wolf Bell, a common boy from Lebanon, a small kingdom on the Atania Continent. Bell was a last name Wolf had chosen for himself.
Wolf hid his Stol origins completely. Even his blond hair, with its faint silver sheen, he kept trimmed neatly to about his shoulders like other Atanian boys his age. He didn’t know the Stol language, and he had no memories of Stol at all.
In Rosipol, the capital of Lebanon, no Stol person was allowed to enter unless there was a special reason, like diplomacy. The only Stol people Wolf had ever known in his life were the Red Eagle Prince—his milk-brother—and his mother. Just the two of them.
The Red Eagle Prince was the king of Stol’s bastard. The king’s illegitimate children were typically sent, while still infants, to small kingdoms on the Atania Continent as consorts or princesses-to-be. When the Red Eagle Prince was still a baby, his betrothal to Princess Charlotte—the first in line to inherit the Lebanon royal family—was decided, and he crossed the North Sea in his nurse’s arms.
The Lebanon royal family trained the Red Eagle Prince in the Atanian way until it sank into his bones. The point was to prevent a future husband of Lebanon’s next monarch from acting in Stol’s interests. Exactly as Lebanon wanted, the Red Eagle Prince grew up Atanian.
Wolf grew up alongside him in the Lebanon palace as his milk-brother. Wolf’s mother fussed over the Red Eagle Prince more than her own son, and their cold, distant mother-and-son relationship ended with her death. Wolf left the Lebanon palace at nine and started living at a boardinghouse.
That was seven years ago.
And yet.
“You recognize me now? Want to come in? I want to talk for a bit.”
The Red Eagle Prince waved cheerfully. If Wolf had had a bundle of practice drafts for some novel hidden under his bed—hell, if he’d had even three or four pages—he would’ve refused without hesitation.
“Old friend? Ignore him, ignore him.”
Roy jabbed Wolf in the side. After a moment of internal struggle, Wolf put on a shameless grin.
“Fooled you, right? I was pretending not to recognize him as a joke. He’s actually a close friend.”
“I can see right through you, you coward! I said I won’t spread rumors!”
“See you tomorrow!”
Wolf scrambled into the carriage. The carriage started moving.
“Silver Wolf, it’s been seven years, hasn’t it? I’m really glad to see you.”
“Yeah, Your Highness. You’re finally getting married next year, right? Congratulations in advance. Looks like you snuck out in disguise to see the sights? Palace ladies can’t beat bright, lively common girls, huh?”
To fight off the awkwardness, Wolf deliberately scratched the back of his head and rattled off pointless chatter. The Red Eagle Prince lowered his eyes.
“I got word that Mother is critically ill.”
“…What?”
What kind of out-of-nowhere—
“She says she wants to see me at least once before she dies.”
The Red Eagle Prince’s voice was heavy, his gaze pinned to the floor. Wolf slowly lowered the hand that had been scratching his head.
Something was wrong.
“I’m truly sorry to hear about your mother, but… Your Highness. Please tell me this outing is an official visit approved by the Lebanon royal family.”
“As if. Look at me right now.”
And sure enough, the carriage Wolf was riding in was a shabby, cramped two-wheeled cart pulled by a single horse. Maybe you’d use something like this to sneak off to meet a lover, but it was absolutely not a carriage you’d put forward for an official royal procession.
“I asked the King of Lebanon to let me return. I was refused. But Princess Charlotte told me to go see my mother… Once I’m married next year, I’ll never set foot on Stol again…”
In front of Wolf, who’d gone speechless, the Red Eagle Prince bowed his head.
“So I disguised myself and slipped out of the palace. With Princess Charlotte’s help…”
“So, in other words, you ran away.”
Wolf couldn’t help saying it. The Red Eagle Prince rubbed his knee with his fingertips.
“The coachman driving this carriage is River Rat—Mother’s messenger. River Rat said River Rat would escort me all the way to Stol. Silver Wolf… I want you to come with me.”
“…Pardon?”
Wolf blinked. The conversation just veered off in some insane direction again.
“Silver Wolf! Please!”
The Red Eagle Prince snapped his head up.
“Come with me, okay? You and I are milk-brothers.”
“…That’s true, but…”
Wolf almost said, Your Highness and I aren’t even close, but stopped. The Red Eagle Prince clinging to him looked far too desperate.
“Your Highness, I honestly don’t understand. I don’t know why I have to go to Stol with you. If you came looking for me because something serious is going on, then tell me properly.”
After his mother died, Wolf had never once gone back to the Lebanon palace. Milk-brother or not, the Red Eagle Prince was the rival who stole his mother’s love. With even a shred of sense, the Red Eagle Prince would know what Wolf really felt.
“I have zero reason to go to Stol. I heard the man you’d call my father is still alive, but spending months just to go see him… it’s not worth it.”
After a long silence, the Red Eagle Prince spoke.
“I’m saying it again—Silver Wolf, you’re my milk-brother. While we’re at it, you can see your father once too… I heard he was a bad man who’d beat your mother whenever he felt like it, but… he’s still your father…”
His voice slowly trailed off. Wolf clenched his fist hard.
“Right. I get it. You needed a servant your age to play cards with in the carriage and keep you company on a boring trip.”
“No, Silver Wolf! That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
The Red Eagle Prince’s lips parted, but no words came out. No matter how long Wolf waited, all that came back was heavy silence. And before he knew it, a ridiculous suspicion crawled into Wolf’s head.
“Your Highness. The reason you can’t answer is… is it because…”
Wolf pointed at his own face and forced an awkward smile. Cold sweat beaded at the back of his neck.
“Don’t tell me this is something where my life’s on the line. It’s not that, right? Please tell me it’s not.”
“Of course not. If that’s what you’re worried about, you can relax. So listen to me—do this for me!”
The Red Eagle Prince leaned in close to Wolf’s face.
“Just once, okay? Don’t ask anything, just once. I’ve never asked you for something before!”
“Your Highness, could you back up a litt—”
“Please, just this one time. Okay? Okay?”
The Red Eagle Prince grabbed both of Wolf’s hands and begged—“Please. Please.” Wolf couldn’t move an inch. Why was he pleading like this? If a prince clung this hard to some common boy…
It got really hard to say no.
How the hell did this happen…
Too late, Wolf regretted it with everything he had. He should’ve stolen the boardinghouse owner’s novel manuscript and shown it to Roy. Sure, his classmates would mock him forever, but that would still be better than getting grabbed by the collar and dragged off to Stol by some damn prince.
He needed to act rationally. The Red Eagle Prince had been paying Wolf’s living expenses—his school fees, his boarding fees, even his allowance. He’d taken care of Wolf for years without Wolf showing his face once, all in the name of being milk-brothers. Wolf owed him.
“…Okay. I’ll go with you.”
Wolf squeezed his eyes shut as he said it. It felt like a gate to hell opening right in front of him.
“One thing first. You brought travel money, right?”
“Of course!”
The Red Eagle Prince’s face brightened instantly. He pointed to the floor. A big chest sat there.
“It’s filled with gold coins. Once we’re out of the capital, we’ll switch to a different carriage too. Thank you, Silver Wolf.”
“Call me Wolf. And, Your Highness—please promise you’ll see your mother and then you will come back to Lebanon.”
“Of course! I promised Princess Charlotte. I said I’d use this journey as a chance to study the Atania and Stol continents thoroughly.”
“Wow. That’s very responsible of you.”
“I feel awful for Mother lying sick in bed, but… it feels like I’m setting out on an adventure. Silv—no, Wolf. Boys are like that, right? We admire adventure.”
“Sure. I fight dragons every night. In my dreams.”
Wolf answered halfheartedly, staring out the carriage window. A scoff slipped out.
Adventure? What a poet’s line.
“You’ve never seen outside the capital either, right? From the moment I left the palace, it felt like I’d started an adventure! I held out my pass, but the guards—”
While the Red Eagle Prince rambled on, Wolf sank into thought. He’d heard it was a three-month trip from here to Stol.
It was October now. Even if everything went smoothly, they wouldn’t reach Stol until late December. If they got unlucky, it could turn into a real “adventure.” Bandits. Pirates. Con artists. Pneumonia…
Wolf shook his head hard.
Please, let this trip end as nothing more than a trip.
***
Late November.
On the Morgan coast in the southeast of the Stol Continent, deep in a forest.
Black Weasel was splitting firewood when he suddenly whipped around. In front of the campfire, Silver lay sprawled with his arm under his head, loafing.
“Silver! Work! Split wood too!”
“Don’t want to.”
“You damn slave!”
“A slave’s supposed to loaf.”
“There’s no slave who loafs right in front of his master. You have any idea how much money’s riding on this job?”
“Not my money.”
“Yeah, it’s all my money. But if you don’t split wood, it’s gonna cost you too. It’s winter.”
“…Fuck.”
Only then did Silver sit up and grab the axe. Like he wanted his master to hear, he started talking to himself loud while splitting the logs one by one.
“Ah, I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired. Every day splitting wood, carving wood. All we eat is hard jerky. We go to the village tavern maybe once every three days, if that. Fuck, I wanna drink!”
“If you’ve got the energy to yap, you’ve got the energy to work. The prince will be here soon.”
“The red peacock?”
“Idiot, you forgot already? It’s Blue Eagle. Blue Eagle.”
“Forget? I was joking on purpose.”
Silver stopped swinging the axe and looked up at the empty sky. The winter sky of November was clear.
“Think that prince bastard’s on a ship by now?”
“Either he is, or he will be soon.”
Black Weasel brought the axe down. A thick log split with a crack.
“In December even the North Sea storms calm down. The Pink Skylark Prince won’t drown and will make it here just fine.”
At that, Silver let out a short laugh.
“Poor bastard’s unlucky.”