The Prince Doesn't Cry From Mere Onions

Now that Bertram was crumpled in one corner of the room with the pillow in his arms, Anna was finally able to talk again.

“Lara. What’s the problem?”

“Oh, right! I was so shocked, I couldn’t even talk. Anna. Somebody’s looking for Mr. Bertram!”

“What? What kind of person?”

“He said he was a knight, but…. I think he said his name was Erich, or something.”

Anna and Lara turned to Bertram simultaneously.

Bertram shook his head.

“I do not recognize the name.”

As far as he knew, there were no knights by the name of Erich in the castle. Bertram speculated that it must be a man who’d been knighted after he’d left the castle.

“May I ask what this man named Erich said about me?”

“He said that you’d be big, have black hair, and is grubby. And that you’re not a criminal.”

At those last words, Anna let out a sigh of relief.

Without noticing that, Bertram narrowed his eyes a little.

“Grubby…? Erich…… I will have to remember him.”

“Ahaha, it’s true that you were grubby, though! Even if you’re clean now.”

“That is the problem. When looking for someone, using appearance as a lead is a given, but subjective descriptions such as clean or dirty are things that can always change and thus only make the search harder.”

“Why are you worrying about that for them, Mr. Bertram?”

“It’s an occupational habit.”

“Ah, right, you said you were an officer.”

Bertram thought at that moment.

Though he didn’t know who this Erich was, as soon as he returned to the castle, he would have to advise Franz that he should ‘educate the incoming knights properly.’

“In any case, this is unwelcome news.”

“Mr. Bertram, do you know what’s happening?”

“I do have something I suspect.”

It had already been three years since he’d left the capital, Schleisen.

His uncle, who had risen to the throne in his nephew’s stead, must have been relieved for about the first year to have the thorn in his side out of sight.

But now that three years have passed, he raises his head, beginning to feel anxious.

The reputation of the monstrous prince who’d lost his emotions had been quite low.

However, if the prince who had fought for the country died while wandering around in the world, then the reproach would head to his uncle instead, rebuking him of ‘how could you do that to him?’

Therefore, to both check that he is indeed alive, and to slowly bring him back, he must have sent knights to him.

“It seems my uncle is looking for me.”

“So it was family!”

Lara’s expression softened. Apparently, she was relieved to see the mystery novel-like premise of ‘the knight on the track of the wanderer’ turned into something more realistic.

“If he’s asked a knight to do so, then he must be really desperately searching for you! Are you going to go back with him?”

Lara was the one who asked the question.

But it was Anna that Bertram turned to, and Anna he answered towards.

“Miss Anna. Do you find me burdensome?”

“What? Uhh, no!”

“If I have been of help to you, Miss Anna, and if I’m not an inconvenience….. Could you perhaps help me?”

There was only one form of help he wanted.

“I do not want to lose this lead I have. Miss Anna, please allow me your daily life for just a little more time.”

In other words, please let him go back to the village with them.

Without being conscious of what she was doing, Anna nodded.

***

Morning. Franz and the soldiers were gathered at the table with tired expressions.

The soldiers had gone around until late into the night yesterday, without results.

The surprising difficulty had been that the residents had shown more resistance towards the soldiers than to the ‘black-haired wanderer.’

The residents didn’t try to hide the fact that they were avoiding the soldiers, and the few people they did talk to trailed off their sentences as soon as they heard ‘it wasn’t a criminal they were looking for’ and left.

Franz scowled.

“I’m telling you, this is the problem the deeper you get into the countryside. There’s no way for them to meet actual governmental authorities, so they don’t believe in the authorities and only try to keep their front yards to themselves.”

“Should we request official cooperation from the institution?”

“We can’t sprinkle His Highness’s name in this kind of countryside. Maybe we should try the patrol guard front again.”

“I’ve already checked there. Apparently, the majority of the guards are going to be assigned to the village festival they’re opening today, so they said they can’t cooperate.”

“This is why the countryside is hopeless!”

Franz clutched the bottle of jam in his hand. However, as a cultured noble, he shook the contents of the bottle onto his bread instead of throwing it.

Erich deflated, as he had not been able to put jam on his bread yet.

Having recharged his sugar levels, Franz spoke again.

“What kind of festival is it?”

“A pig festival, they said, and the highlight of it is some kind of game avoiding the boars they release inside a gate.”

“A game to sift out idiots full of needless vigor, I see. And the prize?”

“You get the fattest pig.”

“There is no possibility that His Highness will go to the festival. He’s one to avoid noisy places, and…. He has no reason to want a pig, does he?”

Erich stammered out his rebuttal.

“Wouldn’t he try to use the pig as food? Pork is very delicious to eat.”

“Utter nonsense. The pig would rot before His Highness could finish it all up. His Highness knows how precious food is; he would never indulge in such a waste.”

“The patrol guards said that His Highness was with two countryside girls, however. If he has companions….”

“With that personality of his, as if His Highness would really have made companions. He must have been with the girls he’d saved from the trafficking ring for a few moments, that’s all.”

The soldiers all nodded in agreement.

With how confident he spoke, there was no way he was wrong.