I'm the third son of a viscount's family, but I have a claim to the throne. - Episode 13

“Jay, how much contact have you had with court officials or their children?”

It was our rest day, a few days after my first stint assisting the Merchant’s Guild. On our way to the Explorer’s Guild, I posed the question to Jay.

Over the past few days, I had continued helping with paperwork at the Merchant’s Guild, slowly building trust and forming a tentative bond with Kurt Libour. During our exchanges, I learned that his family, the Libour Viscountcy, was one of the robe nobility without a fief.

When I was younger, I’d been given a nobles’ registry and told to memorize details about major families, prioritizing landholders and hereditary ministers. As a result, I’d only remembered the name Libour in passing.

Despite its modest size, the Libour Viscountcy seemed to have decent connections in the royal capital, and Kurt had shared some interesting insights. If Jay planned to work in the capital, it might not hurt for him to meet Kurt.

That said, whether Jay’s presumed demise would be a strategic hiding in plain sight or an invitation for disaster remained unclear.

“I spent most of my time secluded in the royal villa,” Jay replied. “Other than candidates for personal attendants, I hardly met anyone. Even Mother only socialized with her closest friends and didn’t introduce their children to me.”

It seemed the political fallout from the prior generation’s royal succession struggle had extended even to Jay’s mother, the current king’s concubine.

Honestly, if the royal court was so suspicious of her, why hadn’t they sent her away? Royal protocol did mandate taking concubines if no princes were born within a certain timeframe, but the queen eventually bore two sons before Jay’s mother did. They could have quietly sent her back to her family or arranged a remarriage elsewhere.

“What was your father thinking? If he was so unwilling to invest in your education, why did he even bother having a third prince?” I asked.

After all, even if the royal family faced a catastrophe, Carvergh Viscountcy already had two sons with royal bl00d and considerable magical power to fall back on. Jay’s neglect seemed entirely unnecessary.

Jay sighed and stepped aside to avoid a passing carriage. “Mother told me that as soon as my existence became known, the queen started panicking, claiming that I’d plot to usurp the throne. She insisted my presence endangered her sons.”

If Jay genuinely orchestrated the downfall of his older brothers and claimed the throne legally, would that even qualify as usurpation?

His words painted a picture of the queen stirring trouble, perhaps intentionally escalating tensions between the current king and my father during their own succession contest.

Originally, the current king had the stronger claim, but my father’s competence had made the race competitive. Had the queen—or her family, the Kesbart Dukes—provoked my father into an overt conflict to secure her position as queen?

A straightforward comparison of abilities might have allowed a concubine’s son to ascend the throne. But once accusations of treasonous intentions surfaced, legitimacy inevitably became paramount.

“Maybe the king suspected something when the queen overreacted to your birth,” I mused aloud. “Still, he could’ve done a better job of protecting and educating you.”

Between Jay’s lack of a proper education and his near-assassination, the king’s performance as a father left much to be desired.

“Anyway,” I continued, shifting gears, “if you didn’t meet many people, how about Kurt Libour? His family traditionally holds bureaucratic roles, but as the second son, he’s aiming for a position in the Merchant’s Guild or possibly a marriage into a prominent trading house. He knows a lot about that world, so it might be worth getting to know him.”

Noble families were allotted priority when their children applied for royal service, but each house was unofficially limited to two slots. Pushing incompetent members into the court risked losing those slots permanently. As a result, even favored trading partners might be given a one-time chance if a family lacked qualified heirs.

For third sons like Kurt, whose older brothers would fill those slots, forging private connections with influential merchants was a practical strategy. His brothers actively supported his efforts, ensuring he wouldn’t compete with them for bureaucratic positions.

Given how dangerous royal service would be for Jay, Kurt’s path seemed like a realistic alternative.

“Well,” Jay replied with a shrug, “being an explorer seems more exciting and full of dreams. But if that doesn’t work out, I’d consider the Merchant’s Guild. Meeting Kurt sounds like a good idea.”

Ah, the casual acceptance of ulterior motives. Jay, raised amidst the cutthroat world of the palace, had no qualms about opportunistic friendships.

Still, it was endearing how the former prince harbored a childlike dream of adventure.

Personally, I couldn’t shake my practical instincts, bolstered by memories of my past life. For most people, the life of a free-spirited explorer lacked security unless they had exceptional talent. Careers as a magical toolmaker, alchemist, or skilled guild employee seemed far more reliable. Then again, without the right connections, even those paths could be limiting.

In any case, Kurt struck me as grounded and pragmatic—someone Jay might get along with.

Today, Jay and I planned to accept a request outside the capital, but if I spotted Kurt, I’d make sure to introduce them.