I'm the third son of a viscount's family, but I have a claim to the throne. - Episode 4

The carriage, which had been running alongside a cliffside valley, came to a sudden stop. The son of the Degelz Count, who was supposed to be one of my future aides, stood up abruptly. Ever since we left the inn after breakfast, he had been nervously glancing outside. Now, with a burst of energy, he placed his hand on the carriage door.

“I’ll check what’s going on!”

“All right,” I replied calmly.

It was highly unusual for a high-ranking noble’s child to leave the safety of the carriage just because it had stopped. No one had asked him to investigate, and such behavior was practically unheard of.

If we were indeed stopped by a suspicious group, possibly preparing for an ambush, having a key protection target step outside would only add to the guards’ burdens.

Despite having spent a fair amount of time together since childhood, it seemed certain that Degelz had been colluding in an assassination attempt against me. Perhaps he had abandoned me after my collapse following the poisoned cookies at the palace, deciding that aligning with the Queen and her influential Kesbart Ducal House was more rewarding than serving as the third prince’s aide.

Even when Degelz had suggested this “recovery trip” for my health, his behavior had been off. Thinking back, I had spotted him speaking with individuals unfamiliar to the palace staff before my poisoning, suggesting his involvement in earlier schemes as well.

I suppose it was partly my fault. I had deliberately downplayed my abilities, keeping my talent for healing magic a secret. If I had been more transparent, perhaps his betrayal could have been avoided. Still, the fact that an aide would leak information to orchestrate my death was a bitter pill to swallow.

The Kingdom of Belguis owes much of its stability to the powerful magic of the royal Belguis bloodline. The monarchy has used its influence to repel foreign threats, unify rebellious factions, and subdue ambitious nobles throughout its history.

To preserve the royal bloodline, strict measures are in place. If the king or crown prince has not fathered a child with the queen within three years of marriage, they are required to take a concubine.

While the queen’s children are given priority in the line of succession, princes born to concubines can also ascend the throne depending on their abilities and circumstances. Many nobles still remember the recent succession crisis between the current king, the second prince born of the queen, and the former first prince born of a concubine.

My mother, a concubine, often remarked on how relieved she was that the queen bore two sons before I was born. She had initially given birth to a princess, and my arrival could have intensified tensions had the queen not already secured heirs.

To avoid becoming a target, I had gone to great lengths to present myself as less capable than my older brothers. I kept my magical potential hidden by releasing excess mana before lessons and purposefully underperforming in my studies and swordsmanship training.

Despite my efforts, the Queen, whose position was precarious during the last succession struggle, apparently saw me as a threat and decided to take measures to ensure her sons’ ascension.

I had never heard any rumors suggesting my brothers were incompetent, so her hostility toward me, the youngest and a concubine’s son, seemed excessive.

“Is this what they call lacking jintoku (personal virtue)?” I murmured bitterly, slipping out of the cliffside door and quickly descending the slope.

If the carriage stopped by mere coincidence and nothing happened, I’d apologize later to the knights for giving them a scare. But if this situation turned into an orchestrated landslide, staying in the carriage would be a death sentence.

Earlier, I had spotted a tree partway down the cliff through the carriage window. If I could reach it, I might have a chance to survive.

In recent years, I’d been constantly watched, making it impossible to escape before now. If I couldn’t slip away in the chaos of this attempt, I was certain I wouldn’t live to see adulthood.

I had hoped to attend the royal academy, make friends, and learn as much as I could before disappearing and relinquishing my claim to the throne. However, my father, who believed the throne should go to the most capable, had delayed my renunciation of succession, claiming he wanted to see how I developed. This decision made me a target and denied me the opportunity to even enter the academy.

“Father doesn’t even know if he was truly better than the former first prince,” I muttered. “Just because he doesn’t want people saying he gained the throne through his wife’s family’s influence, he sacrifices his children instead.”

The bitterness spilled from my lips unbidden.

One by one, those who had cared for me began disappearing from the palace. Since noticing Degelz averting his eyes whenever we spoke, I had started hoarding extra bread or cookies during meals, stashing a small knife, a few coins, and compact trinkets on my person.

I didn’t know how large a landslide they intended to cause, but I clung to the hope of survival.

BOOM!

A massive explosion echoed, and rocks and earth began cascading down the cliff.

“That’s overkill!” I yelled.

A skilled mage could have made the landslide appear natural, but it seemed secrecy was prioritized. Whoever orchestrated this had opted for large-scale earth magic commonly used by high-ranking nobles for construction or warfare.

Such blatant evidence would be easy to investigate, but they likely felt confident they could suppress any inquiry.

“AAAHHH!”

Screams echoed from behind me. It seemed even the guards and Degelz had been caught in the chaos, intentionally or otherwise.

I barely escaped the rushing landslide, diving under the tree I had spotted earlier. Pressing myself against the ground, I covered my face with my sleeve and focused on suppressing my presence, both physically and magically.

“Did we get him?”

As the landslide settled, voices drifted down from above.

“There’s a piece of the carriage over there—smashed to bits. Poor horses,” another voice replied, sounding closer.

If they came down to confirm, they might pass near my hiding spot.

I held my breath, clearing my mind and waiting. Eventually, I heard the sound of retreating footsteps.

Fearing they might leave someone behind to keep watch, I remained motionless. At some point, I must have drifted off, as the sun had shifted noticeably by the time I opened my eyes.

Cautiously, I emerged from the shadow of the tree.

“Well, well. Escaped death by the skin of your teeth, did you?”

The voice startled me. I looked up to see a figure peering down at me, their gaze unmistakably royal. The deep royal blue eyes, tinged with a violet hue, were identical to my own.

“Who are you?!”

I had never heard of another boy my age with royal lineage.

This was how I met Derekvald Calberg.