MPNS Ch 22

Chapter 22

Then Lucien let out a short, incredulous laugh, as though he found the situation absurd.

“…Unbelievable.”

…Honestly, the people here all seem to think of this prince as nothing more than a convenient feed trough. The moment they open their mouths, it’s half the time informal speech, the other half outright insults.

Nikiel held himself back. There were things he wanted to get out of Lucien.

‘Still, he’s better than those other two. One of them blocks me on the road, the other barges into my bedroom first and then has the gall to call me lecherous.’

Thinking of those two strikingly good-looking yet unbearably rude men, Nikiel judged that Lucien’s level of rudeness didn’t even compare.

At the very least, Lucien had greeted him politely. Nikiel himself had, during his graduate school years, once flipped a professor the middle finger behind his back, and he’d cursed out the king in his own home when no one was listening — so seeing someone at least try to maintain a modicum of courtesy wasn’t all that bad. Considering Nikiel’s infamous reputation, Lucien’s reaction almost seemed favorable.

Gently stroking the bird nestled peacefully in his arms several more times, Nikiel observed Lucien as if gauging him.

When the narrow vertical slits in those eyes returned to their normal roundness, Lucien’s expression was back to that usual impassive, slightly bloodless face.

‘If I remember right, he isn’t in the best health because snake venom flows through his veins.’

Every time Lucien transformed into the snake while in a state of madness, venom would circulate through his body — and the problem was, even after returning to human form, the poison would remain inside him.

It wasn’t enough to kill him thanks to his developed resistance, but the venom seemed to settle into vulnerable organs, causing chronic inflammation.

In Lucien’s case, it appeared to have spread to his lungs, leaving him with pneumonia and asthma. In the medieval setting, such an illness would mean the average person wouldn’t live long — yet thanks to his naturally strong constitution, it seemed he suffered no more than occasional coughing fits.

That said, he wasn’t completely healthy, and had always been making medicine for himself with his own pharmaceutical skills.

‘And the moment that damned asthma subsides will be exactly when my holy power shines brightest.’

Nikiel was confident. The real Nikiel had acted so much like an idiot that all four heads of the noble families despised him, but at the very least, they couldn’t deny his usefulness.

‘I’m not actually going to date these guys — if I consider them useful and they consider me useful, isn’t that enough?’

It was a simple and clear conclusion. Petting the bird in his arms, Nikiel extended his hand toward Lucien to naturally prompt some skinship through a handshake.

“It’s good to see you after so long. We haven’t spoken in some time, so I’m glad we’ve met. Perhaps a handshake…”

“Kwaaak—!”

“Kwaaak?” Nikiel, hand extended for a handshake, froze at the sudden cry before realizing it came from the black hawk-eagle in his arms.

“Hey, why are you suddenly screeching like a crow? Did you eat crow meat for lunch or something?”

It was baffling. This polite, gentle, and beautiful bird was suddenly shrieking like it was screaming and flapping its wings furiously.

Thinking it might just be feeling suffocated in his arms, Nikiel loosened his hold a little, but instead of flying away, it gripped onto his blouse with its talons and beat its wings threateningly in Lucien’s direction.

Flustered, Nikiel withdrew his extended hand and tried to calm the agitated bird.

“What’s wrong with you? It’s fine, calm down.”

From the strength of its flapping, the wing it had injured before seemed fully healed, but the ruckus it was making made it difficult to have a conversation with Lucien.

Still, after some coaxing and careful cradling in both hands, the bird gave a soft “piro-ro” yet stopped flapping so wildly.

“I wonder why it’s acting like this. It used to be so calm…”

“Your Highness, that is not a calm creature,” Lucien said in a weighty yet softly level tone, devoid of emotional fluctuation.

Surprised and glad to meet someone who seemed to know this bird, Nikiel turned to Lucien and asked, “Oh, you know this bird well? Then is it yours?”

“Absolutely not. That damned bird—”

Lucien didn’t have the chance to finish before the bird flapped its wings again, turned its back to him, and half-wrapped one wing around Nikiel’s neck as though hugging him.

“There, good bird. Why did you disappear back then? I wanted to give you more food… Ah, what were you going to say, Duke?”

“…It’s nothing.”

Lucien pressed his lips together, his expression blank. Nikiel wondered if he’d paid too much attention to the bird and neglected the man in front of him.

“You may or may not have heard, but I will also be participating in this year’s Subjugation Tournament.”

It was an attempt to break the slightly awkward air — a sort of polite notice to say, “I’ll be participating, so I look forward to working with you.”

Lucien, however, spoke impassively: “Yes, Your Highness.”

…That was it?

Even without direct insults like Yullan or Raymon, this reaction was stripped entirely of cordiality.

‘Seriously, what kind of outrageous antics did Nikiel get up to for even a mild-mannered bachelor like this to be so done with him?’

It was pathetic. Nikiel concluded he had no choice but to give up on the idea of skinship with Lucien. With no visible reaction coming from him, suddenly grabbing his wrist would be nothing more than one of those lively acts of molestation the original Nikiel had done before.

The last thing he needed was for the “barely polite one” to evolve into someone who ground his teeth at just the sight of him.

‘At this rate, it won’t be strange if I gain a reputation as the biggest pervert in court. In this situation, retreat for tomorrow’s sake is the only option.’

Nikiel quietly reached that conclusion. Besides, holding the bird in his arms felt almost like animal therapy — the holy power that had been swelling within him flowed gently through his bloodstream.

‘…Kind of want to just play with the bird instead.’

More than anything, he wanted to sit with the bird, eat some fruit, and read a book. Once again facing someone who looked at him with contempt or dismissal left even Nikiel feeling drained.

He usually didn’t care much what others said about him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stand before people who hated him for no reason every single time.

‘I haven’t done anything and yet they keep trying to beat me down. Who would volunteer to take that?’

That thought stripped the life from his expression. His enthusiasm for the original plan — persuading Lucien into at least a handshake to expend holy power and leave an impression — faded entirely, replaced by weariness.

‘Forget it all. I’ll just stroke this little bird’s feathers and read Introduction to Demonic Beasts, then get some lower body exercise in.’

Considering his “healing therapy” plans for the day, Nikiel abruptly cut the conversation short. His face had already long since settled into an utterly unamused look.

“Well, all right. So you’ve heard about my participation. Then, I’ll see you next time.”

He flashed only the corners of his lips in a faint smile, never stopping his hand from stroking the bird, and began to turn his body to leave — intending to head straight back to the Prince’s Palace.

“Your Highness.”

That is, if Lucien hadn’t stopped him.

When the man who seemed ready to let him leave suddenly spoke again, Nikiel turned to him with a puzzled expression.

“Do you have something else to say?”

“…No.”

Lucien hesitated briefly, then shook his head. Nikiel nodded with the same indifferent look.

“Then I’ll see you next time.”

The bird in his arms purred contentedly. He was already planning to hurry back and cut up some lamb meat for it.

It was such a well-behaved bird that Nikiel thought it would be perfect to perch it on his shoulder or knee while he organized Introduction to Demonic Beasts into Hanguⁱ on parchment — it would be thoroughly enjoyable.

He set off quickly toward the Prince’s Palace, but soon realized that the sound of footsteps behind him wasn’t his own.

“Hm? Duke, this isn’t the way to the government building.”

“…Yes, Your Highness.”

A glance over his shoulder revealed Lucien following him. Startled, Nikiel pointed out that this was not the way toward the government building, where Lucien usually stayed for his duties at the Magic Bureau.

After a moment’s pause, Lucien replied with his usual brevity. A slight feeling of frustration started to rise.

“No, I wasn’t asking for an answer… I’m asking why it feels like you’re following me. That’s what I’m curious about.”

“…I will escort you to the Prince’s Palace.”

Escort? Nikiel’s expression shifted to one of exaggerated disbelief. He wasn’t some delicate noblewoman — he was a perfectly healthy adult man — so what was with this escort business?

He had been about to refuse outright — eager to hurry home and pet his bird — when it suddenly occurred to him:

‘Since it’s come to this… maybe I should at least try holding his hand.’

Recalling the adjusted version of his original plan, he nodded slowly. Thinking about it, such an offer was actually rather kind.

Lucien, at the very least, seemed aware of how frail Nikiel’s body was. Even if the two of them were both sickly, Lucien was linked to the massive serpent that was his true form, and his skeletal and muscular frame was imposing. Nikiel, on the other hand, was naturally fine-boned and slender, having needed considerable effort to get even to his current state.

From Lucien’s perspective, Nikiel might very well look as though he could collapse in the street at any moment.

‘Well, his manners are good. Much better than the other two.’

Of course, the way Yullan and Raymon had treated him had been due to Nikiel’s own conduct — but at least this time, it wasn’t something he had done here.

Compared to those who cornered him against the wall and hurled accusations of lewdness when he was trying to live decently, Lucien was nothing short of a gentleman.