Tales of Leo Attiel ~Portrait of the Headless Prince~

Volume 4, Epilogue

Percy Leegan left Guinbar and made his way to Aconrey about ten days after receiving the news of Oswell Taholin's death.

Within Archon, the towns and villages alike had been thrown into confusion. There had only just been the affair with Darren Actica. Like most of the principality, the people of Archon had turned Darren into a target for mud-slinging:

That high-and-mighty lord noble sure was stupid for turning his arrows against the princely House.

He must have been jealous of His Highness' fame after he rescued the temple.

Fundamentally, though, it was simply someone else's problem, and they would never have dreamed that the lord governing them would ever have plotted to assassinate Leo. The search made in Aconrey's castle had apparently revealed some documents which indicated a connection between Oswell and the late Darren. The people of Archon were shocked and grieved. When their domain lord died, the younger people wondered with eager anticipation if something different from the usual might happen, while the older ones worried that their peaceful days might be shattered.

From what Percy had heard, reactions at court had also been varied. Usually, he would have have sent messengers to Tiwana, or asked the people from his parents' house to gather information, but right now, he didn't have the composure for that.

He was furious at the prince, who had readily left behind someone who didn't agree with his own opinion.

I'm obviously not needed.

Disgruntled and sulky, Percy made a point of remaining at Guinbar with the soldiers that had been left with him, as per the prince's orders.

Since he went flying even though he knew it was a trap, he can just do whatever he likes.

Since the prince had cut him off, he intended to cut the prince off too, yet no one knew better than Percy himself that he was just putting a brave front on things.

He spent his days in Guinbar and by the time he received the news that: “His Highness has collapsed,” the matter had already been settled over in Archon. When he heard about Oswell's death, he himself wasn't sure how he felt about it. His emotions were made up of surprise, admiration and anger.

He's always so impatient. At this rate, one of these days, he'll be tripped up by a pebble by the roadside.

Percy rode hurriedly to Aconrey. The first person he met there was Kuon. The sun had already set, but Percy was impatient.

“Where is His Highness?” he asked, intending to go see him at once. Kuon, however, shook his head.

“He's resting... er, no, I mean 'His Highness is partaking of his rest'. You can see him tomorrow.”

“Resting?”

Even though the sun had set, it was still early in the evening.

Percy could well imagine the uproar that Oswell's death had caused in Tiwana. Normally, Leo would have made the first move by immediately going to the capital and explaining the circumstances. Yet for now, he had apparently left that task to one of his subordinates and was resting at ease at Aconrey's castle.

“What is this? Does the prince think he can just slack off because he's taken down his political opponents for now?” Percy bore down on Kuon with rare vehemence.

Kuon seemed to find it a pain, but since he knew he wouldn't be able to divert Percy's attention, he resigned himself to telling him the full story about how they had driven Oswell to his death.

What? The blood drained from Percy's face. His emotions could no longer be described as simply a mix of surprise, admiration and anger. In order to deceive Oswell and gather information, Second Prince Leo had chosen to drink poison. And now, perhaps because of the after-effects, his state of health meant that he had to spend over half his days in bed.

“He's slowly getting better. The doctor says he should be fine in a month. Oi... what's wrong?”

Seeing Percy start to sway, the boy-soldier quickly held out his hand. Roughly shaking away Kuon's hand, the young Atallese noble felt like he wanted to laugh.

It's not going to make any difference, even if I worry about him – his expression was somewhere between laughter and tears.

There's no telling where the prince's enemies are, or when they will brandish a weapon at him... I was always being so careful because of that – and then he goes and drinks poison of his own free will.

Just do whatever you want, Lord Leo. I don't care anymore. Don't listen to what anyone says, don't pay any attention to how much anyone worries about you, just go and do whatever you decide to do. Like hell I'd care about a reckless brat like you!

Percy went alone to the bustling entertainment district and gulped down tasteless booze. A messenger from the castle came to fetch him almost at once however. Leo was already resting in bed, just as Kuon had said, but when he heard from him that Percy had arrived, he had apparently said he wanted to see him, and had sent a messenger. Said messenger was now glaring at Percy, his expression clearly saying that he had a hard time finding him.

Percy was aware that he was already drunk. He wondered for a moment if he should turn him down, just like he had back when Liana's father had tried to get closer to him. Still –

“He 'wants to see me'? Hah, he 'wants to see me'! Fine, I'll let him see me.” He left the tavern with drunken, tottering steps.

As he approached the castle, his anger swelled all over again. Even though he had told himself that there was no way he cared about someone like the prince, there was no way he could stop himself from venting his complaints.

Do you think everything in the world is always going to go the way you want? What an idiot. You should just go and swallow as much poison and as many blades as you like.

He muttered savagely to himself.

Yeah, and I'll do the same. I won't care even if I'm sent away from the Guards or if an assassin comes after the prince. I'll just do whatever I like.

He started snickering. The messenger was looking at him strangely as he brought him to the prince's appartements.

The door opened onto the antechamber, where Camus was.

“Bastard,” Percy was the first to speak. He was going to immediately seize the monk by his lapels, but Camus dodged his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up. You were here, so how did you let this happen?” Percy glowered murkily at him. “This is a pious believer? I'd feed your piety to the dogs.”

“Percy, you're drunk, aren't you? I'm not letting you meet His Highness in this state. Come back tomorrow once you've sobered up and you're in your right mind.”

“You're the one who isn't in his right mind, you damn Bible basher. But I'll beat your personality back into shape.”

He punched him. Caught by surprise, Camus took a blow to his chest from Percy's fist.

“Bastard,” this time, it was Camus who growled at him. “I'll help you sober up right now. The treatment's going to be a bit drastic though.”

“Go right ahead and try.”

Just as the two of them were about to break into a fight –

“Camus,” they heard Leo's voice coming from the room.

Camus immediately returned to his senses.

“I apologise for the disturbance, Your Highness. I'll throw this drunkard out right away and...”

“No, it's fine. Show Percy through.”

“But...” Camus protested, yet he couldn't oppose Leo's order. The prince then went further:

“I want to talk privately. Camus, could you leave for a bit, please?” he said.

The monk reluctantly left, but he didn't forget to give Percy some whispered advice just before doing so.

“I'll be waiting right outside the room. If I hear anything, I'll come running. And when that happens, I won't let you off.”

Humph – feeling like he wanted to spit at him, Percy stepped from the antechamber into Leo's room.

Leo Attiel was lying in bed. When Percy saw him, he was going to hurl everything he had to say at him, yet the words suddenly vanished before leaving his mouth. Instead, as he strode up towards the bed, Percy Leegan hit Leo. His fists could have punched holes in the stone wall, but there was only a sharp sound as he slapped Leo's cheek.

“You...” said Percy as he grabbed Leo by the shoulders and shook him. “You look completely pathetic.”

“You're right,” Leo smiled.

His eyes had sunken into their sockets, his cheeks were as hollow as they could get, and his skin had turned slightly blackish. Although they were hidden beneath the blanket, his arms and legs were definitely needle-thin. A few days after taking poison, Leo had claimed that he felt better and so had taken part in the meeting, but that had actually just been a pretense, and one that had put his health at further risk. In reality, he showed no sign of getting better and, with every passing day, the poison continued to undermine his vitality.

“There was no other choice.”

“Don't mess around. There were plenty of other ways. But you think only your way is right, and this is the result.”

“Oswell died.”

“You're dying too.”

“I'll get better in no time.”

“Even though you look like you're having a hard time just talking?”

“Yeah.”

“You're an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Idiot.”

“Percy...” Percy's hands were still grasping Leo's shoulders, and the prince placed an emaciated hand on top of one of the knight's. It trembled. But not because Leo's hand was shaking; Percy's trembling was being transmitted to it. “Are you crying?”

“I feel like crying. So why shouldn't I cry?”

Tears fell from Percy's eyes and dropped on Leo's chest, one-by-one.

Oh, I see.

Words spun endlessly around and around in Percy's mind.

So much...

I love the prince so much.

So very undependable and so very lonely; a razor-sharp mind allied with the ability to always take action; horrifyingly cold-blooded and worryingly kind-hearted; it was dangerous to take your eyes off of him for too long, and you never knew what he might do if you turned your attention away from him... that was the prince.

Percy Leegan realised something. The anger he experienced when he was left behind, and the feeling close to hatred that he felt when he was riding to Aconrey – both of them stemmed from his love for the prince.

In the past, he had wielded his spear for the prince and had been willing to become a shield for him if danger approached simply because he found him 'interesting'. Now it was no longer so simple. Part of it was his feeling that: the prince is the right person to carry Atall into the future. He was also worried that: if the prince isn't here, huge beasts like Allion or Dytiann will devour Atall.

It was a mix of all those emotions that made up Percy Leegan's love for Leo. Even if, in the future, they had another clash of opinions, that feeling would definitely not change.

“I'm sorry, Percy. I knew that you were right. I know that I was too impatient. I forced the situation to twist in a direction that would make me right and...” At that point, Leo starting coughing violently.

“Don't say anything more,” Percy gently pushed him back towards the pillows. “For now, please rest.”

“If I fall asleep like this... I'm worried that when I wake up, you won't be there.”

“That won't happen.”

“Really?”

“What is it you're afraid of?”

“Afraid... right, maybe I was afraid. Even though I believed that I had to go against you and do what I had to, I was really worried about what might happen with you, Percy. What if I'd used up all of your goodwill towards me, and you were already gone from Guinbar, or even from Atall? What if I'd lost the best of companions... of friends... of brothers.”

“There's nothing to worry about. Percy Leegan isn't going anywhere,” Percy smiled like a father laying a fretful baby to sleep. “I learned some charms a long time ago. I'll teach you one of them. If ever you don't know where I am and you don't know how to find me, raise your forefinger and chant the names of the three fairies Pique, Lotta and Torin. If you do that, the fairies will come to dwell in Your Highness' finger. After that, take a single strand of your own hair and wind it around your finger and tell them: 'Look for Percy Leegan. You can't leave until you've found him'. If you do that, the fairies will use their magic and I will immediately appear in front of Your Highness.”

“I'll remember it,” Leo smiled. “Pique, Lotta, Torin, right? Pique, Lotta, Torin...”

His voice faded as he repeated the fairies' names, and before long, he had fallen asleep. Percy pulled the blanket over the prince, then turned around and left.

...Later, historians would say that 'this' was the turning point for Leo and Percy. At that moment, instead of being moved by emotion towards Leo, Percy should have admonished the prince. If necessary, he should have been ready to turn his spear against Leo to make him heed his criticism. Among those who were close to the prince, Percy was the one who understood the most about Leo's thoughts, his power to take action, and the danger he represented, yet Percy let himself be swayed by emotion, and followed the wrong course of action... That is what they say.

But those are just the voices of historians with the benefit of hindsight. How could they ever reach the people who were living back in those times?

Leo and Percy were both young.

And the consequences that were created by the violent torrent of youth simply piled up one on top of the other.

Allow me to plainly lay out some of the things that happened later.

First of all, Leo Attiel sent a letter of thanks to Dytiann.

When Oswell had attempted to assassinate Leo, he had invited monks from Dytiann probably for no other reason than to trick Leo, yet these monks had defended the prince's life with unrivalled energy. Leo loudly and publicly proclaimed that fact, and deliberately spread it to Dytiann.

“It is shameful that Oswell planned to use the Cross Faith for the assassination, but God's guidance is truly awe-inspiring. Oswell intended to make use of them, but instead, he brought together those brave and innocent men as well as myself. We felt an immediate understanding for each other, saw through Oswell's plans, and smashed them together. I would very much like these braves to help with the missionary work here in the principality. Would it be possible to send their families over so that they can accomplish this holy mission without worry?”

In Dytiann, Leo's words made him famous even among the common people.

Who could tell how much loathing and disgust Baal must have felt?

It goes without saying that there was an implicit threat behind Leo's words: I know. I know very well who secretly sharpened the blade for Oswell.

Two months after Oswell's death, Neville, Godwin and the others were able to meet their families again. Incidentally, those two joined the Personal Guards at around the same time.

Afterwards, Leo established religious bases in Archon's territory centred around Father Gemili, who also stayed in Atall, just like Neville and the others.

Florrie had also heard the rumour that Oswell had poisoned Leo and, perhaps because she was constantly by his side and nursing him, Leo's health recovered to a certain extent around then. The talk of his marriage with Florrie Anglatt finally crystallised into something concrete.

Seen from the outside, everything was going well for Leo, who had magnificently gotten rid of his political opponents and who was about to get married to a young lady from the Kingdom of Allion. However – and perhaps here again 'finally' is the correct word to use – the widening rift between him and Sovereign-Prince Magrid could no longer be ignored.

The shock of Darren and Oswell's successive deaths was huge. Of course, it was widely known that the two of them deserved it because of the crimes they had committed, but those circumstances had no influence on Magrid's fears.

If I displease him, will that damn son of mine one day turn his blade against me?

Even if Darren and Oswell had made mistakes, and even if Leo had flawlessly rendered justice, the crucial point was that delivering his 'justice' without consulting anyone made Leo dangerous.

And to make things worse –

“Branton has gotten cowardly recently.”

That evening, when Magrid visited Princess-Consort Kirsten in her bedchamber, he chose Leo's older brother as a topic of conversation.

“What do you mean?”

“He's already turned twenty. I figured it was about time to find hima good partner and give him a castle. On the same occasion, I was going to officially announce him as the next sovereign-prince, and grant him the title of heir to the throne.”

“Oh,” Kirsten cautiously interjected.

“And would you believe it, he refused. 'That responsibility is still too heavy for me', he said.”

“Oh my. Branton said that? Yet before Leo came back, he was so self-confident that you were even worried about it, Your Majesty.”

“Umm, Leo,” lying in bed, Magrid nodded somewhat bitterly, apparently unaware of the way his wife had almost shoehorned Leo's name into the conversation.

“He probably got influenced by Leo. Not surprising: everything that brat does has to be flashy. I've heard that the people are gossiping about it. Things like how Leo is the one they hope to see as the next sovereign-prince, and how compared to him, his older brother, Lord Branton, is only remarkable for being unreliable...”

“Leo... that child is dangerous.” Kirsten snuggled up to her husband as though she was seeking warmth. Her white skin still looked so youthful that it was almost impossible to believe that she was the mother of three children.

“If I'm being honest, Leo is dangerous and frightens me. But... it's a fact that Branton seems a little unreliable. Your Majesty... in that case, wouldn't Roy be the best choice for the next sovereign-prince? He is still very young, but he is growing up fine and healthy, and he will certainly be a successor who would follow in your footsteps, Your Majesty. Or rather, I, Kirsten, promise that even if it costs me my life, I will raise him to be worthy of you...”

As Kirsten spoke, her eyes were misty with tears, so perhaps she was already picturing her adored youngest son sitting on the throne.