Chapter 482: The Royal Curse

“Brain disorder? Miraculously cured?”

The news was so shocking that Muen blanked out for a few seconds.

“How come I didn’t know?”

“For the moment it’s only a rumor, not yet confirmed, and the information is still under strict lockdown.”

Celicia took a light sip of her coffee.

“At least, that’s how it is for the outside world.”

“I see—so you’re saying it’s already a settled fact? First Prince Albert has really recovered?”

“......”

Celicia did not answer.

But from her silence, Muen already had his answer.

After being bombarded by two pieces of major news in a row, Muen, who had rushed here all the way without rest, tiredly rubbed his temples.

Although he had long anticipated Belrand’s chaotic situation, he hadn’t expected it to have reached this extent.

Coming to ask Celicia had indeed been the right choice. Even though he had the Ducal House’s intelligence network, that network ultimately lacked Duke Campbell himself—that core figure who could directly have audience with His Majesty at any time and meet other nobles. He had no way of knowing some of the deepest secrets of the palace.

But even now that he knew them, he didn’t feel any sense of sudden clarity. Instead, his headache only grew worse.

Damn it, such coincidental timing. Could the First Prince have been faking it on purpose all this time...?

No, that didn’t really make sense either.

He was the First Prince, born as the Empire’s first in line to succeed. He had no need for any kind of act. By law and principle, he already possessed the strongest legitimacy, let alone pretending to be some mentally handicapped idiot.

After all, a true idiot cannot be faked, much less flawlessly faked for over twenty years without anyone noticing.

Not even the greatest actor could pull that off.

Huh?

Wait.

A congenital idiot suddenly has a flash of clarity, returns to normal—or rather, completely turns into a different person—and immediately joins the Imperial struggle for the throne... Why did this plot sound so familiar?

For example...

Rebirth: I Transmigrated as the Empire’s Retarded Prince...

Transmigrated to Another World and Used Modern Knowledge to Transform the Empire...

Thirty Years East, Thirty Years West, Never Look Down on a Young Man’s IQ...

The Battle of Two Princes: I Am the Empire’s Retarded First Prince...

Hiss......

Muen shivered, then immediately asked Celicia seriously:

“Is there any reason for His Majesty Albert’s recovery? Even if you say it was a miraculous cure, such a sudden recovery is still...”

“......”

Celicia still didn’t speak. She only gently stirred the silver spoon in her cup.

Seeing Celicia like this, Muen’s question cut off. He probed cautiously:

“Sorry, did I ask something you can’t answer?”

“...No, it’s not that big a deal.”

After another moment of silence, Celicia lifted her head.

“Have you ever heard of the royal curse?”

“The royal curse?”

Muen touched his chin.

“You mean that urban legend that members of the Imperial Royal Family can never advance to the Crowned One realm?”

“It’s a legend, and it’s real.”

Celicia spoke softly.

“The Empire’s royal offspring truly cannot advance to the realm of the Crowned Ones. However...”

“However?”

Celicia paused.

“However, that is not the full extent of the curse. Compared to the already extremely difficult and nebulous Crowned One realm, the other side of the curse is the true nightmare that has plagued generations of royal children.”

Hearing this, Muen immediately straightened his waist, looking at Celicia with a hint of nervousness.

“What do you mean?”

“Relax. It’s not me.”

Celicia glanced at Muen, a flash of icy light flickering deep in her eyes.

“It’s Elder Brother Albert.”

“So that means...”

“That’s right. Elder Brother Albert’s brain disorder came from the royal curse.”

Celicia lowered her head and looked at her own hands. Those hands were white, with faintly visible blue veins. The royal blood, so close to that of her elder brother Albert, flowed within them.

“Pollution, illness, deformity, congenital deficiency... It takes different forms, but in every generation of royal offspring, there will always be one unlucky child who bears this curse from the moment they are born.

“In this generation, it’s Elder Brother Albert. In the previous generation, it was Father. In the generation before that, it was my grand-uncle (Note: earlier it was written wrong, it should be ‘grand-uncle,’ not ‘uncle.’ ‘Uncle’ is the same generation as Father.), Pink Bear.

“They live every moment of their lives under the torment of the curse. And at the same time, those royal children who bear the curse are always the most outstanding among their peers.

“...That is probably why Elder Brother Andrew is so afraid right now.”

Celicia finished the last sip of her coffee.

“As for why the curse on Elder Brother Albert’s body would fade, I’m not very clear on that yet.”

“I see...”

Feeling like he had just learned some earth-shattering secret, Muen nodded very solemnly.

“I didn’t expect that behind all this there was actually... Wait a second, who did you say just now? Pink Bear? I can accept that his seniority is high, but you’re saying he was the most outstanding of his generation? You’re joking, right?”

In his mind, Muen saw that ridiculous bear who did nothing all day but scratch his butt and read dirty books, and he felt a very real doubt toward the words “most outstanding.”

“Although I really don’t want to admit it, it’s true. Pink Bear—my grand-uncle—was the youngest of his generation, probably about the same age as Father. Even though he usually doesn’t do anything proper and often uses his seniority to do things that even make Father helpless against him, he really was the most outstanding of that generation, and perhaps the most outstanding in the history of the Royal Family.”

“In the history of the Royal Family?”

Muen was even more dumbfounded.

“That’s right.”

Celicia sighed.

“Father once said that if not for the curse, with that guy’s talent, he very likely could have stood at the true pinnacle of the continent in the future.”

“The pinnacle...”

The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched.

A scene suddenly appeared in his mind: a solitary figure with hands clasped behind his back, standing at the top of a wind-lashed mountain, looking down on all things below.

But when the scene came into focus, the figure he saw was a pink bear scratching his butt and giggling at a dirty book...

Muen shuddered and hurriedly chased that highly polluting image out of his head.

“I understand the cause and effect now, but there’s still one thing I don’t get...”

After digesting the information, Muen folded his hands, propping up his chin.

“I can understand His Highness Andrew being afraid that a restored Albert will take away the throne that should be his. But he’s been Crown Prince for over twenty years. In every respect, his advantages can’t compare to Elder Brother Albert, who has just recovered...

“So why would he cut off his own arm, betray the royal faction, and instead go mix with those greedy nobles?”

“Is that so? So Elder Brother Andrew has indeed taken that side?”

Celicia nodded, as though she had expected this.

“That is perfectly normal. Elder Brother Andrew wants the throne, and the royal faction is indeed his greatest support. But that rests on one premise.”

“A premise?”

“Yes... and that premise is...”

Celicia looked into Muen’s eyes.

“Father wants him to be the emperor.”

“Wha—”

Muen didn’t even know how many times he had been shocked today.

“You mean...”

“Before Elder Brother Albert woke up, Elder Brother Andrew’s position as Crown Prince was too secure—so secure that he would often do foolish things... foolish things that did not make Father happy at all.”

Celicia lightly tapped the silver spoon, her thoughts drifting back to that time, when Belrand as a whole had been plunged into the crisis of an Evil God’s invasion.

At that crucial round table conference, the one who should have stood at Father’s side was Crown Prince Andrew.

Should have.

But he never appeared. He had left Belrand, and the reason he gave was heat phobia sickness.

It was an excuse he had used countless times since childhood. Whenever there was something he didn’t want to do, he would say this to Father.

But... there is no such thing as heat phobia sickness in this world.

There is only cowardice and craven malice.

Just as there is no such thing as love that lasts forever in this world.

The emperor was gravely ill.

But in the end, he had not yet died.

Thus, the will of that man—who was still the highest ruler of the Empire—was the most important weight on the scale in this struggle. Important enough to overturn the twenty years of accumulation and effort of a former Crown Prince.

“So... realizing he had already lost His Majesty’s favor, Prince Andrew, who craved any power that could secure his position, naturally ended up hitting it off with those old-line nobles who had long been suppressed by His Majesty and now sought to seize control of the Empire again, and started running with them?”

“Exactly.”

Celicia nodded lightly.

“It looks complicated, but the overall gist is quite simple.

“Elder Brother Albert has just awakened and is weak in power. But in Father’s final moments, his gaze is very likely to fall on this son who was cursed because he was the ‘most outstanding.’

“And Elder Brother Andrew naturally cannot give up the throne that is now almost within his reach. He will try to win over every possible force.

“The storm brewing over Belrand—and even the entire Empire—basically comes from the struggle between these two. In comparison... the assassination attempt you suffered is nothing more than the fringe ripples of that storm.”

“I see...”

Muen gradually leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath.

After sorting out the entire chain of events, he felt an even greater pressure.

Without his cheap father, the Duke, around, there were truly many things he had to shoulder himself.

“What about you?”

Muen suddenly asked:

“Celicia, which side are you on?”

“Me?”

Celicia arched her beautiful brows. The corner of her lips curved up slightly, as if with a hint of mockery.

“Do I need to take a side? Whether Elder Brother Albert becomes emperor or Elder Brother Andrew becomes emperor, how does that affect me, the Empire’s Third Princess?”

“That’s true, but...”

Muen fell silent for a moment, then asked:

“You still have a preference, don’t you?”

“A preference? Heh, that word shouldn’t appear on the lips of a princess with the purest royal blood.”

Celicia stared at Muen with a smile that was not quite a smile.

“In the end, you just want me to help you, don’t you?”

“That’s right.”

Muen did not avoid Celicia’s gaze. He met those beautiful, cold eyes calmly but earnestly.

“I want your help. If I want to deal with the Inner Council—that massive shadow where who knows how many nobles are secretly united—then relying only on myself, only on the Campbell family with its pillar currently absent, is almost impossible. So I need more power.”

“The Inner Council... so it ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) really is those people.”

Celicia was not surprised by these three words. She had already set down her coffee cup, and her slender fingers were lightly tapping on a page of her book.

“I understand what you’re saying. But don’t you get it yet, Muen Campbell? The reason you’ve been assassinated over and over again is precisely our relationship. The moment our engagement was announced, it already scared a lot of people so much that they were willing to defy the Lion King himself to make a move on you.

“If I choose to help you completely, then without a doubt, what awaits you will be an even more violent storm.”

“You’re worried about me?”

Muen blinked.

It was the exact same sentence Celicia had said earlier, but coming from Muen’s mouth it sounded far more playful.

Celicia’s expression chilled.

“I’m merely considering things from a princess’s standpoint. If things reach the point of no return, the entire Empire will be swallowed by the flames of strife.”

“Besides, the situation is still not clearly defined. Father has not openly expressed support for Elder Brother Albert. He’s hesitating too. If he chooses Elder Brother Albert, who currently has no foundation at all, he’ll be pushing the Empire toward division and confrontation.

“So it’s entirely possible that you—and the royal faction behind you—will have to shake hands and make peace with Elder Brother Andrew in the end. Politics will not accommodate your personal likes and dislikes.”

“You really are worried about me.”

Muen grinned.

Before Celicia could unleash her killing intent, he hurriedly put away his smile and said seriously:

“You make a lot of sense. But there’s one thing you might have misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?”

Celicia frowned. Even though she was still icy, in Muen’s eyes she looked a bit cute.

“Yes. Just like you, I don’t particularly care which prince ends up as emperor. Honestly, I have plenty of escape routes. The Campbell family has a huge foundation, and my old man is still leading hundreds of thousands of troops fighting the demon race. No matter who becomes emperor, they can’t really destroy the Campbells. At most, we’d be suppressed, our status a bit lower.

“In the worst case, I can just cling to your black stockings—no, I mean, as your husband, be a useless kept man who doesn’t concern himself with anything.

“But...”

Muen’s expression suddenly became serious.

“No matter what, certain people still have to pay the price for certain things, don’t they? Otherwise, in a world that isn’t very good to begin with, it would be far too tragic.”

“Childish.” Celicia commented coldly.

“It is childish.”

Muen nodded, but did not add anything.

“So what’s your answer, My Princess?”

Muen stood up, bent at the waist, and extended a hand toward Celicia.

He waited quietly.

For a long time.

For a long, long time.

Celicia looked at him, then at that hand, extended as if inviting her to a gentleman’s dance. A faint ripple rose in her eyes, only to freeze once more.

“You’re asking the wrong person. Right now I’m nothing more than a pitiful princess under house arrest. I have no way to take part in your grand undertaking.”

“...Is that so?”

“That’s how it is.”

“What a shame.” “There’s nothing shameful about it. Please leave, Muen Campbell. Muen Campbell and Celicia Leopold should not meet again before the engagement ceremony.”

“Understood. Then goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Muen turned and left.

He had only taken a few steps when he couldn’t help glancing back.

But Celicia did not even look at him. It was as if she had completely sunk back into her own world, head bowed over the book she hadn’t finished reading.

She sat there with perfect grace. Under the soft light, her whole body seemed to glow, like a flawless ice sculpture.

So in the end... was I still just fantasizing too much?

Muen gave a self-mocking smile and this time truly turned to go.

“Sigh.”

Just as he was about to step fully into the night, he heard a sigh so soft it was almost inaudible.

Then came a voice—faint, cool, like the first breeze of spring. Weak, cold, yet strangely warm.

A voice he knew all too well.

“Three days from now. Lower District. No. 13, Fafran Street.”

That voice said:

“Wait for me.”

“...I understand.”

Muen did not look back. He only showed a heartfelt smile and tipped the hat on his head.

“If this is a lady’s invitation to a date, then even if I have to bet my life, I will absolutely not be late.”