Bad Debt

"Mother!" Josephine's words and expression stunned not only Wright but also Tang Feiliu standing nearby. Wright clearly couldn't believe it—his appearance alone showed he hadn't fared well these past days, even looking disheveled. Compared to the dashing prince Tang Feiliu had glimpsed last time, the Wright before them now had messy hair, a haggard face, traces of blood still stained his face, and his tuxedo bore torn fabric and splattered blood. It was clear his return to the place of his birth had been anything but easy.

But he had no time to assess his own state. Instead, he stared at Josephine in shock, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Mother... didn't you say I was your favorite because I was obedient, compared to my brother? Didn't you promise that as long as I obeyed, you would always love me... you swore it to me..."

His words were both innocent and desperate. Her Majesty Josephine, however, looked at Wright intently, her tone stern. "You still bear no resemblance to me—weak and naive. Even when faced with despair, you only know how to beg for others' help..." Her expression softened slightly as she continued softly, "At least your obedience was once a redeeming quality. But now..."

Tears instantly welled in Wright's eyes. He stared at his mother in disbelief, whispering, "Why... Why are you doing this to me? You sent me to the Temple when I was a child. The first time I came back, I told you the Pope was touching me and my friends... I wanted to go home, but you made me endure it..."

Lait trembled uncontrollably, his tears flowing unceasingly. He cried out, "You said I was your favorite son! I endured all that, all that for you... I betrayed my friend for you! My friend is dead! He died inside the Temple!"

"That was your fault!" Queen Josephine snapped. "He was your friend. You are Prince of Natt. Had you been strong enough, no one would have dared harm you. It was your cowardice that gave the enemy an opening!"

"I was only six years old then!" Raite finally bellowed through his sobs. His crying turned hysterical, his eyes burning with madness and desperate fury. He raised the sword in his hand, swinging it like a butcher's blade toward his own mother.

"Cut it off!" Her Majesty Josephine glared, her voice a harsh command to her own child. "Lait, aim straight—no trembling!"

Light's eyes widened, his face twisted with savagery and terror. The sword in his raised hand trembled uncontrollably, its arc growing wider and wider... Finally, Light let go of the sword with a wail. It clattered to the floor as he collapsed to his knees, sobbing until his face was streaked with snot and tears... His voice slurred as he repeated over and over, "Why... Mother, why..."

"You want to know why?" Josephine watched him, stepping closer. She wore only her morning gown. Facing her own child who sought to kill her, she remained utterly unmoved, like an impenetrable steel wall.

She looked down at Wright, kneeling before her, and spoke softly, "Because you are weak. You are cowardly. Even a cornered beast bares its fangs, but you... you have disappointed me so deeply."

"I don't understand, Mother. I don't understand..." Wright lifted his tear-streaked face to his mother's, staring at the woman who bore him with utter despair. "Mother, didn't you say I was your favorite?"

Josephine sighed, then abruptly turned to Edward. "The banquet is about to begin. I'll freshen up first. You handle this."

With that, she turned and walked away without a backward glance. Wright cried out, "Mother, don't go! Please, Mother..."

But Queen Josephine turned and walked away. The ladies-in-waiting beside her kept their eyes downcast, all appearing calm and composed. As they receded into the distance, Edward sighed and said to Tang Feiliu, "Would you like to step outside for a moment?"

Tang Feiliu didn't want to leave. Everything here felt utterly bizarre, and only Edward offered him a shred of security. Edward clearly didn't want Tang Feiliu entangled in this mess either. But Evans hadn't come to the imperial palace, and Dave was too old—he hadn't been able to travel far in recent years. The knights they'd brought into the palace weren't particularly familiar with Tang Feiliu, and he'd be afraid. Edward understood that.

So Edward merely patted Tang Feiliu before walking directly over to the still-sobbing Wright. "You know that even if you see her, this is the only outcome you'll get."

Lait stared at Edward, silent for a long moment. Then he suddenly laughed, his voice soft yet venomous. He turned to Tang Feiliu and said, "Did you know? That disgusting old monster at the Temple adores blond children like you..."

"Lait!" Edward's expression hardened as he snapped at him, "Shut up!"

"Do you know what he does to those seven or eight-year-old children?! He... mmmph mmmph mmmph mmmph mmmph..." Edward clamped his hand over Light's mouth in fury. Light, nearly mad, stared into Tang Feiliu's terrified eyes. After a moment, he suddenly burst into wailing sobs. Collapsing like a heap of mud onto the floor, he stared at Tang Feiliu, then began tearing at his own long hair, screaming, "Danny, Danny, don't die... I'll save you, I can save you... Danny..."

Lait reached out, trying to move toward Tang Feiliu. But at Edward's command, waiting guards seized Prince Lait. Edward ripped off a sleeve from his formal attire and stuffed it into Lait's mouth, his face turning ashen as he ordered the guards to drag Lait away.

Prince Wright was dragged away, wailing and crying. Tang Feiliu, still shaken, clung to Edward. Though Wright had spoken very little, the information he had revealed was already terrifying.

"Does Queen Josephine know?" Tang Feiliu asked Edward in disbelief. "No way... How could the Templars do this? ...Weren't only nobles and royalty sent there?"

"...Shh, don't dwell on it. Let me take you back to rest first, okay?" Seeing Tang Feiliu rambling incoherently, his face etched with panic, Edward quickly patted his back, coaxing him softly to calm down.

But how could Tang Feiliu possibly calm down? When Prince Wright had cornered him in the kitchen last time, Tang Feiliu had inquired about the prince's background and heard of some of his deeds. Deep down, Tang Feiliu despised and scorned Prince Wright. Now, hearing these tales of the Temple's past, Tang Feiliu could only stare in stunned disbelief.

"Alright," Edward saw Tang Feiliu was beyond agitated and quickly led him out to the garden. Once they were in the sunlight and Tang Feiliu seemed calmer, Edward let him sit down and began explaining everything about Light with utmost seriousness.

Lait represented the shadow of every royal child without succession rights on this continent—they served as tools to foster relations with the Temple, shuttling between schools established by the Temple for their education. Naturally, royal families had the opportunity to study at the most central hubs.

The Nat Empire was powerful, vast, and consistently prosperous. Logically, even if Wright left home, he would receive the best care and could never be bullied or mistreated.

Alas, Her Majesty Josephine bore two sons: one foolish and arrogant, the other thoughtful and gentle. Children separated from their families for long periods often harden and grow distant from kin. Wright was different. His difficult experiences at the Temple only deepened his love and longing for his family.

It was only much, much later that Edward learned the truth through various channels.

Years after entering the Temple, Prince Wright returned to the Imperial City for New Year's to visit his family. He quietly confided a secret to Empress Josephine: that most revered Divine Servant, the one wearing the highest crown, would summon beautiful young noble children alone to the back of the prayer chamber. Prince Wright had a best friend—a child with thick golden hair, angelic in appearance—who was among those most frequently called in.

That child was Danny. At first, Wright had admired the gentle figure. Each time Danny was summoned, Wright knew nothing of it, only sensing the figure's favor toward Danny. Danny came from a somewhat neglected branch of nobility, sent there reportedly because his father had lobbied repeatedly to secure this precious opportunity.

Yet Danny's father remained utterly unaware. He believed this education would elevate his son's social standing, having paid a hefty sum for it... But he failed to grasp a crucial truth: if it were truly so advantageous, why hadn't the relatives entrusted with the program sent their own children?

The tacit secrets among the great nobles, the unspeakable truths the lesser nobles learned through their fathers' and brothers' bitter experiences... It wasn't until Wright saw the bruises and scars on Danny that he began to suspect.

After repeated attempts, whether by luck or misfortune, Wright witnessed his friend Danny being placed beneath the statue by that nobleman. He saw the nobleman, clad in an expensive, luxurious robe, pull down Danny's pants.

His poor friend, barely eleven or twelve, wore an expression of numbness and agony. He didn't even cry or struggle, only a profound despair etched across his face.

No child should ever have to wear such an expression.

Wright witnessed it that day, hiding in the corner, crying in terror.

His whole body shook with fear. He finally understood that the nobleman's hands, which had always roamed over him, did not express affection or fondness. He finally understood why Danny would tense up like a wounded hedgehog whenever he heard anything about the nobleman.

Lait was terrified. He didn't know what to do until he returned to the palace. He rushed to find Her Majesty Josephine, begging her to save his dear friend.

"And then?" Tang Feiliu listened, her face turning ashen, though at least she didn't faint like Edward had feared she might. This was thanks to Tang Feiliu having witnessed all manner of depravity in the modern world—the kind of vile acts perpetrated by this very Pope of the Temple... There were simply too many. Sometimes, just accidentally opening the internet, one could even witness these people brazenly ranting right under their noses. They were far more brutal and terrifying than anything the Temple had done. They posted those innocent children online without any restraint, even arguing back with those who condemned them—people with conscience—spouting righteous indignation, laughing and taunting.

But whether it was what I once saw online or what I now hear with my own ears... those stories about Wright are equally painful and heartbreaking.

The mere thought of innocent children being forced to confront the darkest horrors of the world is enough to evoke profound empathy and anguish in any adult with a functioning conscience—it is a fundamental human instinct.

"...At that time, Queen Josephine had dispatched additional guards to Prince Wright," Edward replied softly to Tang Feiliu.

Tang Feiliu's eyes widened.

Perhaps Her Majesty Josephine believed she would shield Wright from harm, but for Wright... the person he loved most, the one he trusted most, had once again delivered him into that dreadful abyss.

To make matters worse, Edward knew none of the details. After all, he had emerged from the tower long after these events unfolded, only then arriving at the imperial city.

The only vague knowledge he possessed was that Danny had ultimately taken his own life—and had done so before Light's very eyes.

The Temple had reached some tacit agreement with the Nat Empire, ceding most of its territories within Nat. This incident caused immense repercussions, earning Light exceptional praise and securing his return to the imperial palace.

Having witnessed his friend's death, Light was reportedly quite unhinged upon his return.

"Do you know who that prince was who pushed you into the tower?" Edward suddenly changed the subject, addressing Tang Feiliu. "I remembered later... the one who would do something like that must have been Charles—after all, he did the same to his own brother."

"What?!" Tang Feiliu gasped. "Lait? Why would he threaten him?"

"Because Her Majesty Josephine was testing Prince Wright at the time," Edward murmured, revealing palace secrets perhaps unknown even to those involved. "...Her Majesty felt Prince Charles was too arrogant and wanted to teach Prince Wright a lesson, inevitably growing closer to him. So Charles had two blond noble children brought in to provoke Wright..."

He didn't need to finish. By this point, it was enough to evoke memories of Light's sudden exile from the palace.

"Lait... Was he innocent?" Tang Feiliu stared at Edward in shock.

"...Those two children were truly innocent. But ultimately, their deaths—as later investigations revealed—were the work of Charles." Edward replied softly.

In other words, the debt between the two brothers could never be settled. While Prince Charles was the primary cause of those children's deaths, Wright must have triggered some terrible memory, causing him to lose control and harm them viciously.

A tangled mess of a debt, intertwined with long-buried secrets—the story left a bitter taste in the listener's throat, like a fishbone stuck there.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Wusan for the landmine.