There was a party today to celebrate the Seventh Prince of Gracis turning five years old.
It really is Shichi-Go-San... Herscherik greeted each guest alongside his father, the king. They had just finished greeting the rest of the royal family, as the princes, princesses, and queens returned even more stunning than they were at the party two years ago to deliver a critical hit to Herscherik’s self-esteem, crumbling it to dust all over again. I thought I might be in the same ballpark after two years, but nope! Not a chance! Who could have blamed him for being a little self-deprecating? Herscherik was once again being reminded that he was much less attractive than his father and brothers. Of course, he didn’t have any magic or physical talents, either. While his brothers may not have been the most fair objects of comparison, Herscherik couldn’t help but mope behind his smile. He must have been the runt of the family in everyone’s eyes. While Herscherik had attended the parties to celebrate his siblings, as a child he was always sent back to his room right after saying a quick greeting.
“Prince Hersch,” Kuro called from behind him. In public, Kuro spoke to Herscherik with formality, adding his title to his nickname.
Herscherik turned to Kuro and followed his gaze to see the person he wanted to see the most at the party. The prince smiled. Anyone’s mood would have been softened by that smile. “Excuse me a moment, Father.” With his father’s permission, Herscherik walked up to the person in question, with Kuro in tow, of course.
“Welcome, Count Grim. Thank you again for hosting us last year.” The prince gave Grim, who had been cowering in the corner of the ballroom as if he couldn’t afford to let anyone find him there, a genuine-looking smile. As the prince gave him a blinding smile, Grim’s shoulder jolted and he took a few steps back. He looked like he had just seen the devil. Herscherik immediately looked concerned. “Are you unwell, Count Grim? Should I have Schwarz bring you a glass of water?” He turned to Kuro.
Upon noticing Kuro, Grim twitched again, all color draining from his face. Herscherik let out a momentary chuckle, realizing that he was having a little too much fun. Knowing that pushing Grim too far would hurt his cause, Herscherik decided to give him an out. “Count Grim, you must be coming down with something. Why don’t you call it a night...? I’ve heard from your people that you’re treating them well. Meria wrote so, too. I’m sure things will still be tough, but I’m counting on you.”
The count nodded like a bobblehead to Herscherik’s smile and scuttled out of the ballroom with a rushed farewell.
“He looked like he was losing his mind until I talked to him,” Herscherik muttered after watching Grim run off with his tail between his legs.
“You have a wonderful smile, Prince Hersch. Count Grim looked like he had just seen a warden of the Darkness Below.”
“That’s not a compliment, is it, Schwarz?” Like you have room to talk, Herscherik silently added. All color drained from his face when he saw you, too. He’s lost hair since last time, and I’m sure that he has lost some weight, too.
Herscherik had ended up saving Grim from both prosecution and obesity. Herscherik thought that that was a feat worthy of praise. He only restrained himself from saying it out loud because his father had called him back to his seat. Before him stood Barbosse, exuding a powerful aura. Barbosse seemed the same as before, in his fifties but far from unhealthy.
“It’s been too long, Prince Herscherik. I’m glad to see that you’re doing well.”
“You as well, Minister.” Wish you’d be like Grim. You should go bald, too. Bald-bosse. Herscherik replied without showing a shred of his true emotions. Ryoko’s business smile was as effective as ever.
“I’ve heard that you paid a visit to Count Grim’s territory last year. Did something happen while you were there?” Barbosse looked at Herscherik like a bird of prey honing in on its next catch.
Herscherik pretended not to notice it. “Yes, I visited his land for a personal errand. During the stay, we were attacked by robbers... The royal guards, and Count Grim, saved my life. I just feel terrible that some of the guards were killed trying to protect me.” Herscherik dodged Barbosse’s dig with the words and expression of a woeful prince. In fact, he did feel terrible for their losses. His guilt only worsened as he couldn’t help but feel like he was taking advantage of their death by bringing them up here.
“How tragic... It is unacceptable that the likes of burglars thrive in our country. Something must be done about this.”
“Yes, that would be wonderful!” Herscherik switched his woeful expression for one of relief. Internally, of course, he was cursing out Barbosse with every insult imaginable.
After the minister walked away, his father turned to him. “Hersch... Are you getting tired?” he asked, his true concern hidden in the subtext.
Herscherik showed his father a genuine smile. “I’m all right, Father...! You can tell me if you ever get tired, too.” Herscherik held his father’s hand that had gotten a little cold and continued. “You might worry about me because I’m still young, but I can at least be by your side.”