“I’m toast. If I go to the academy, I could die. If I try to change things now, they’ll belittle me, and if worse comes to worst, I’ll be branded a do-nothing. No one needs a useless prince. I die again in that scenario.”
Schroden slumped and whimpered as if his demise had come early. Even if he did manage to retract his own proposal, it would squander all of his goodwill with the nobles and possibly make them suspect him of treason. Right now, with the imperial throne on the line, such accusations would not be taken lightly. Death was a very real possibility should someone accuse him of treason. Even Shuuichi could deduce that much.
A politically inept prince was no prince at all, but rather a hindrance. And hindrances would be removed, one way or another.
Schroden only had one choice.
“Time to leave the empire.”
It really wasn’t a choice. Not for a prince. But this was Shuuichi, basically a commoner, speaking now. The state of the empire did not mean half as much to him as his own life did.
He moved fast. Though a commoner in mentality, he retained the skills he’d spent his childhood cultivating. In no time, Schroden made his preparations and leaped from the balcony. Without aid. Using a curtain or some other makeshift rope would have left evidence behind. No, in true parkour fashion Schroden simply leaped. The guards posed no problem either. He knew their patrols front to back and slipped out of the palace with ease. If there had been any doubt that this newborn coward had been the one to suggest toppling a kingdom from the inside out, this display certainly dispelled it.
Schroden left a note before leaving. A single sentence: “Do not look for me.”
An attendant would notice it the next morning and bring it to the emperor in a wild panic, but by then Schroden was long gone. The emperor was in shock. The firstborn prince couldn’t believe it. All of the missing prince’s supporters were beside themselves. The throne had been in his grasp. He was leading the charge against Theolas. But now he was gone.
While the empire floundered, their plans delayed, Schroden found his way south into Theolas, but not by way of the bridge. Mountains bordered the country to the west, and a vast forest stretched from the foothills, through which the river that defined the north-south border ran. There was a stretch of that river where the current was gentle enough that small parties could cross without risk. Through here, Schroden furtively entered the kingdom.
As it happened, this particular route was the very same slavers used to attack Bjork’s village as a child before he became the fourth love interest. For better or worse, no one in the imperial court knew of its existence. The general leading the attack had thought only of himself and informed none of his commanding officers of his route, while simultaneously ensuring his subordinates’ silence. Those men had either died in action or were dismissed with their commander and became mercenaries, who did not live exceptionally long lives. All of this to say, Schroden was the only one in all the empire to know of this route.
That he knew it at all was implicitly frightening.
Schroden’s initial plan was to pass through Theolas into Hemnates, another westerly kingdom, but such a journey proved too taxing an endeavor even for the prince’s thoroughly trained legs. Before long, his body professed its limit.
“Water,” he wheezed. “Magic… How do I use magic?”
An imperial prince could not go without training in the arcane. Schroden had received the best, and while not at quite the level of an archmage, he commanded a powerful understanding of spellcasting. Unfortunately, presumably to make room for Shuuichi’s large personality, that knowledge was now lost to him.
Schroden lay in the dirt staring at the sky. His journey had left his icy skin darkened and thus obfuscated his identity. He’d walked topless for much of the way expressly to disguise himself, perhaps a tad shortsightedly. Exposing himself to the elements without food or water had drained his stamina.
“Here we go. Another bad end. Sorry, lady. Wish your warning didn’t go to waste.”
He didn’t know whom he was apologizing to. The voice in his head, perhaps. Yet he apologized nonetheless as his consciousness slipped away. Just before it went entirely, his lips moved on their own.
“I’m sorry, Re—”
“Ho, there. You all right, lad?”
A shadow darkened the sky and loomed over him, interrupting his thoughts.
These were the very first words Hubert Rudleberg spoke to Schroden. He hoisted the boy up and offered him water. The boy explained his situation in a roundabout manner, so as to hide his identity.
“Passed out in the middle of running away from home, hm? Say, need a job?”
“What? You’ll hire me?”
“We just so happen to be newly debt-free, and I just so happen to be looking for a young man willing to do a little labor. You’d work as a valet, and while I can’t promise extravagant compensation, the offer stands.”
“I-I’ll take it!”
The man guffawed. “Enthusiastic. I like that. I’m Hubert Rudleberg, acting bailiff on behalf of Count Rudleberg.”
“Sch…Schue! Pleasure to meet you!”
Schroden realized just in time that he couldn’t use his real name anymore. He ought to come up with a new one. In that moment, he felt a sort of inclination. An echo. Something drew him to that single syllable—Shuu.
“The feeling’s mutual, Schue. Let me show you the way. While we’re at it, why don’t you tell me the sort of work you’re interested in. I’ll take into consideration any particular talents you have, if you’ve got them.”
“I…suppose I’d like to work with plants.”
He didn’t know why, but the earth spoke to him.
“Plants, huh? Oh, you’ll want for nothing, in that case! You and I’ll do great things in these fields!”
“I don’t think that’s really what I meant, but thank you!”
“Finally, a fellow dweller of dirt!” the bailiff laughed. “I like you, Schue. When we get back, there are some weeds with our names on ’em. Let’s get moving! We’re burning daylight!”
“Yes, Mil—L-Lord Hubert! Too fast! Too fast!” Schue gave chase as his new, extraordinarily large lord darted away at a pace unbefitting his size, a melty grin on his face.
And so Schroden van Rordpier, second imperial prince, became Schue, valet-in-training to House Rudleberg of the Kingdom of Theolas.
The world lacked both its fifth love interest and direction. Where it was headed now, no one could know, not even the black-haired maid who had sabotaged events in the first place.