The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

Episode 50: Servant Cedric (16) – Familial Affection

Episode 50: Servant Cedric (16) – Familial Affection

After Cedric’s departure.

A silence descended upon the garden, thick as Hell itself.

Marquis Redbell remained motionless, lost deep in thought for a long time.

One of his retainers, warily gauging the Marquis’s mood and subtly exchanging glances with his fellows, finally stepped forward to take the lead.

“Lord. Surely such impudence cannot go unpunished.”

Marquis Redbell was one of the three most powerful men in the kingdom.

Even the princes of this land wouldn’t dare treat him carelessly, having to carefully gauge his mood. And Cedric, a mere servant, what words had he dared utter to such a figure?

Even if a nobleman’s grace were to generously forgive and embrace the errors of the ignorant, Cedric had far surpassed the limits of that forgiveness.

Had the Marquis not so loathed his subordinates acting on their own volition under the pretense of “for the good of the Lord,” his retainers would have already stepped forward to punish him.

“Impudence… Indeed, a grievously insolent fellow he was.”

“Then…”

“Enough. Leave him be.”

“Sir?”

At the retainer’s widened eyes, the Marquis curled the corner of his lip in amusement.

“Meddling with him would likely yield an unpleasant outcome. I said, leave him be.”

“…”

The retainer who had brought up the matter, as well as the others around him, wore similarly complex expressions.

They clearly had much they wished to argue, but dared not challenge the Marquis’ decision, their frustration plain to see.

A rare sight indeed, for the Marquis’ household retainers, who generally did not easily betray their emotions.

‘Granted, it’s far from my usual course of action.’

Even with that thought, the Marquis did not believe this judgment was mistaken.

‘I vaguely suspected it even before meeting him, but he is certainly no ordinary commoner.’

His vocabulary, the accent of his pronunciation, his natural gaze, and his confident demeanor.

Though he deliberately masked it with whimsical behavior and remarks, Cedric exuded the air of an educated man in many ways.

‘Magic, in the first place, is advanced knowledge. Simply learning and using freely roaming spells might be possible for any adventurer, but modifying spells, especially the secret techniques of a noble house, according to one’s whims is impossible without a fairly systematic education.’

If Cedric’s modification plan for the Blood Beasts was truly factual, or even half as effective as he claimed, the Marquis was willing to spare no expense, not even a thousand gold pieces, for that technology.

A guard, powerful enough to rival entire divisions, was certainly impressive, but how could one compare it to the security apparatus of a nation?

If an individual had truly achieved such a feat, they would be a superhuman, etched into the annals of history. If it were the result of a group effort, then it was undoubtedly the work of a force even more potent than the Redbel Marquisate.

The Marquis decided the latter was the correct answer.

He was a rational and clear-headed man; unable to conclude that “the eternally overworked Crown Prince of the Izeirn Empire was moonlighting as a servant for his youngest daughter, and that Bezhien was just tinkering away with his unique gift for presents.”

In truth, if one could arrive at such a conclusion, it would be an act of divine communion rather than deduction. To judge the Marquis incompetent for this would be excessively harsh.

Unaware that he was caught in a subtle misapprehension, the Marquis began to formulate his plans.

And the first move he made was…

*

“─The Head of the family is not feeling well, so he has asked to postpone the meeting until a later date. You are welcome to return home at daybreak.”

At the Head Butler’s words, the faces of the four siblings contorted into grotesque expressions.

Naturally, they would. Summoned all the way to the main residence under the pretense of a long-awaited reunion, only to be turned away without even a glimpse of the Head himself.

Who wouldn’t know that talk of ill health was merely an excuse?

Most severe amongst them was Armin, the eldest son.

He had originally planned to use this family council as a pretext to keep Claudia confined within the main residence.

Unlike Claudia, who had no readily available allies on the outside, Armin only needed to keep her here, and the Second Prince would eagerly push forward with matters regarding the marriage.

Even if Claudia hurriedly moved to resist, by then, according to Armin’s calculations, everything would be over.

And surely, the Marquis couldn’t have failed to see through his plan.

To have knowingly tolerated it all this time, only to sabotage it in this manner?

‘…He has changed his mind.’

Armin’s face hardened.

The Marquis hadn’t taken any actions that clearly aided Claudia, nor any that seemed to hinder Armin.

If one were to be precise, it was closer to an aloof indifference, a refusal to interfere no matter which way things flowed.

Of course, even if the Marquis didn’t offer his tacit approval, the fact remained that Armin held the advantage.

In what was practically a guaranteed victory for him, a faint sliver of hope, whether real or imagined, had merely sprouted on Claudia’s side.

However, Armin, a man inclined to tap even a stone bridge several times before crossing, found the very possibility of his defeat utterly unsettling.

‘Should I call off the plan, even now?’

Cancellation was not a simple matter either.

If it were something he had spearheaded alone, perhaps. But the royal family was intertwined in this affair.

To unilaterally withdraw from a plan proceeding based on the vested interests of both sides would mean incurring no small debt to the Second Prince.

After a long deliberation, Armin solidified his resolve.

‘No, I will push forward as planned.’

This decision wasn’t driven merely by a fear of political setbacks.

If he could seize the ultimate victory, Armin was a man capable of enduring and persevering to any extent.

However, the fact that the Marquis had exhibited even the slightest hint of a favorable disposition towards Claudia was something he absolutely could not overlook.

This time, it had only amounted to balancing the scales; who was to say that next time he wouldn’t overtly side with Claudia?

Armin knew precisely what sort of man his own father was.

No matter how many achievements Armin accrued, no matter how many successes he offered to the Marquis, if he believed Claudia would be more beneficial, he would mercilessly abandon Armin.

Armin’s eyes turned coldly still.

To him, Claudia was no longer simply a younger sibling, inferior and lacking, but a clear and present rival.

*

“The Royal House of legitimacy, the Redbel Marquisate of wealth, the Sarnos Earldom of military might. These three are the strong trifecta that leads the Virka Kingdom.”

Some time after this pronouncement…

In the Etched Territory’s office, Cedric’s private tutorial for Claudia was well underway.

“However, the Royal House currently faces many troubles. Due to the King’s advanced age, a successor must soon be chosen, but the first prince, the rightful heir, suffered a severe fever and has since become… diminished. The Sarnos Earldom supports the king’s younger brother, who has demonstrated much capability, while the Redbel Marquisate backs the second prince.”

It was a bizarre scene – a mere servant rattling off ‘King’ this and ‘King’ that, instead of ‘Your Highness’ or ‘His Majesty,’ as he dissected the kingdom’s political landscape. Yet Claudia didn’t correct him. She was already too far down this rabbit hole for such niceties.

“Frankly speaking, from the perspective of a pure power struggle, Redbel holds the advantage. The Earl of Sarnos is simply no match for the Marquis in matters of political maneuvering. However, Redbel carries its own anxieties, namely its relatively weaker military strength.”

“The Sarnos side lags behind Redbel in most aspects of managing their territory, but their military power is immense. Redbel, with its ample funds, would have no great issue gathering men, but the quality of their commanders and knights simply cannot compare. This presents a serious problem for both Redbel and the second prince, who they support.”

“To remedy this, the second prince seeks to secure an ally in the Velliard County. While not among the kingdom’s leading three powers, they still rank within the top ten, possess a strong military, and, crucially, are geographically situated between Redbel and Sarnos.”

“If you were to unite with the Velliard family, the second prince and the Redbel alliance would not only bolster their military strength but also gain a formidable geographic shield. As you are both a member of the Redbel family and of royal blood, there is little concern that the alliance between them will be destabilized. Which makes you a perfect match for both sides.”

“Furthermore, the Velliard family’s finances are steadily deteriorating, making it difficult for them to maintain even their military strength, which is their sole advantage, without support from the royal family or Redbel. This means they can be controlled, and the moment you marry into the Velliard family, those reins will become yours as well.”

Cedric’s hand, which had been busily moving across the chalkboard, stilled.

His gaze, as if asking, *Do you comprehend?,* met Claudia’s. She grimaced but nodded.

“So, the bottom line is they want to offer me up as a sacrifice so the second prince and Redbel can live happily ever after. How delightful.”

“A blunt understanding, but sufficient.”

“So, what am I supposed to do next? I absolutely refuse to be sold off against my will. Every time I hear whispers of my impending betrothal, a shiver runs down my spine.”

Her tone was curt, but her voice betrayed a desperate plea.

Cedric, faced with Claudia’s imploring, almost pleading gaze, replied, “Of course, there is a way.”

“There is!? That’s the Cedric I know! What is it?”

“Stab the second prince in the back.”

A moment of silence drifted.

Claudia tapped her ears with both hands, then asked again.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Could you repeat it?”

“Of course, Mademoiselle.”

Cedric, with the guileless expression of a puppy, calmly spun his words.

“Bring the Royal Brother into our fold, and stab the Second Prince in the back.”

Claudia stared blankly at Cedric’s face.

His pupils were remarkably clear, gleaming with an odd radiance.

Cautiously, Claudia began to speak.

“Um, wasn’t the Second Prince the ally, and the Royal Brother the enemy, just now?”

“The Second Prince is an ally of ‘Redbell,’ not an ally of yours, Mademoiselle. A true ally wouldn’t presume to act on your behalf without consulting your wishes. Conversely, the Royal Brother will be one of the most troubled figures if this matter comes to fruition. In politics, enemies and allies can shift at a moment’s notice, provided their interests align.”

“So you’re supporting a political rival who’s then going to stab him in the back… Will the Second Prince just stand by and watch?”

“Mademoiselle.”

Cedric spoke in a remarkably calm, almost soothing voice.

“That is something the Eldest Brother will have to handle. Are they not family, bound to support each other?”

“…That’s right!”

Claudia decided to simply let go.

And with it, a great peace descended.

Such was the magnitude of trust in one’s family.