SYMDF 45

Chapter 45

 

“Yomnyong.”
“Kkuup.”

Crunch, crunch, crunch.
The cookies the butler had brought to Ion were being devoured entirely by the ghost of the great library. Lazily sprawled in the best sunlit spot at the desk, Yomnyong dropped crumbs while Ion pinched his plump cheek.

“Yomnyong!”
After calling twice, the white dragon finally rolled the sparkling gem within his eye to look at Ion.

“Kku?”

Ion placed a glass bottle filled with shimmering purple liquid before him. When he went to fetch it yesterday and came back, Yomnyong was sulking that he had been left behind and Ion hadn’t noticed the bottle earlier.
Yet since his childhood realization never to experiment on his own body, Ion always showed suspicious medicines to Yomnyong first and waited for his response.

“Here, this is a new medicine I brought this time. What do you think? Can you drink it?”

Yomnyong slid forward low to the ground and shuffled ahead. This lazy movement was his latest favorite way of moving.

“Kku…”

“Is it safe to drink?”

The violet reflected in Yomnyong’s eyes as he scrutinized the bottle with constant head tilts before he suddenly shook his head sharply.

“Kkyuu!”

“Not this one either?”

He nodded several times.

“Can’t I just try a little?”

More nods.

As a pure baby dragon, Yomnyong did not lie in his behavior. There must be a reason why he refused to drink. Once, out of frustration, Yomnyong had swallowed a forbidden medicine and strengthened his curse, fainting thereafter. He later struggled with poor eyesight for a long while.

Given such firm refusal, Ion pushed the bottle into a corner. It was regrettable since the medicine had been difficult to obtain amid ongoing obstruction by the Noah Knight Order after his recent encounter with Astatine.

“Where else can I get medicine like this?”

Just then, someone knocked on Ion’s office door.

“Young Lord, it’s me.”

Recognizing the voice of Sir Ernst, Ion quickly moved the bottle off the desk and slipped Yomnyong behind his waist. The dragon thrashed silently between Ion and the chair, ignored as Ion responded outside.

“Come in.”

The sound of the door opened twice. Ernst entered and bowed respectfully.

“I bring urgent news.”

Despite urgency, Ernst’s calm expression caused Ion to answer leisurely.

“Did the Noah Knights catch my trail?”

“No, no. It is urgent but not serious.”

“Shall we drink tea while you tell me?”

“Yes, young lord.”

Ion went to the sofa by the center table and rang the bell. Soon, steaming cups of tea appeared before them. Ion sipped the pale tea and opened his mouth.

“Tell me about this urgent but not serious matter.”

“The Emperor has passed away.”

Ion paused briefly but was not shocked. The death of the Emperor was nearly inevitable; only timing and location were uncertain.
But once officially announced, the political situation would become turbulent due to stark differences between the Emperor and Vernian.

“…I expected he’d have arrived in Iodin by now. Could it be he died there?”

“Exactly as you said, my lord.”

One question answered, another sprung to Ion’s mind.

What would become of Camillus, exiled to the North?
Though Camillus’s exile was effectively a house arrest, outwardly it was treated as voluntary relocation.
But since Vernian harbored ill feelings, if he ascended, he would surely ensure Camillus remained bound there by any means.

Perhaps he will even try to kill him.
Falsely accusing him to the execution block would be easiest.
If that happened, Ion would have to save Camillus at least once—he, who relied on Camillus for his life.

Although Ion hesitated to speak, Sir Ernst quietly refilled Ion’s emptied tea cup and resumed the conversation.

“And?”

“More news.”

“What else?”

“Camillus Clodel has been granted the title of Duke. His Majesty gave him the title Duke of Virensium just before his death.”

Ion’s hand twitched while raising his cup, causing it to clink. Tea spilled slightly, and Sir Ernst quickly pulled out a handkerchief to dab his hand.

“Are you alright?”

“Ah, a-ah, yes.”

Ion pulled back his hand but realized his response was awkward and scrambled to cover it.

“Vernian’s coronation ceremony is soon… might Camillus, the Duke, attend too?”

He misspoke multiple times. Sir Ernst, familiar with Ion’s turmoil, pretended not to notice.

“Yes, he has already left Iodin and is heading to the capital. The Duke is said to attend in person.”

“Heading to the capital…?”

The late Emperor’s funeral and Vernian’s coronation would both surely have Camillus present, so the two would inevitably meet.

[Reunion with Camillus Valderas Clodel (2/3)]
The quest window that had flickered lightly whenever Ion thought of Camillus responded once again.

〈So, Ion, you are also my miracle.〉
Fleetingly, Ion recalled Camillus blushing as he said this in childhood.
They would no longer treat each other so purely given their respective ranks. Ion was no longer the child who unknowingly accepted Camillus’s kindness.

“Young Lord?”

Perhaps lost in thought too long, Ion was brought back by Sir Ernst’s voice. Seeing Ion’s gaze refocus, Ernst smiled faintly, visible from the corner of Ion’s eye.
His inner thoughts had been read.

Feeling awkward, Ion stood and turned slowly to the window. The tapping of heels echoed softly, granting comfort.

Quickly organizing his thoughts, Ion murmured to himself,
“When Vernian becomes Emperor, he won’t delay marriage. He won’t be following me around anymore, so maybe that’s for the best.”

As mentioned before, Ion had no grand cause. His frail body barely held him together, and there was no desire to overthrow the nation merely because the Crown Prince seemed unstable.

Yet Ernst speculated darkly,
“But might he not become even more relentless? I worry. You know he’s not an easy person to predict.”

“I can’t truly have a child anyway. And if he keeps insulting the Craiger family like that, I won’t stand still.”

“Do you have plans in motion?”

Ion had no concrete plans at this point but believed at least he was smarter than Vernian.

“He’s greedy and will likely try something big once crowned. I must ruin that plan thoroughly.”

As he finished, a knock sounded before Ernst could respond.

“Ion, it’s Father.”

The Duke, who’d lately been less busy with family affairs, was spending more time at home. Since it was daytime, the visit was not unexpected, and Ion answered calmly, walking to the door.

Opening it, the Duke’s face appeared, brightening instantly.

“You seem well today.”

Ion smiled broadly and squinted.

“Yes, Father. I’m in good shape.”

Glancing slightly downward, Ion saw a torn letter in his father’s hand. Noticing the royal seal, Ion frowned slightly and moved aside slowly.

Though pleased with his son’s improved condition, the Duke soon stiffened and entered the room. Meanwhile, Sir Ernst promptly realized it was time to leave.

Ion felt a strange unease and sat opposite his father, tension rising.

“Young Lord, speak truthfully and without lies.”

“What’s this all of a sudden?”

The Duke’s letter was slammed onto the table. Ion eyed it cautiously before bringing it closer.
The first line was garbage.

“As you know, your essence is very special to me.”

“Is it true that the Crown Prince has sent you a marriage proposal?”

“…”

Tension naturally filled Ion’s jaw.
This madman, really…