novelraw Chapter 620: The Broken Wine Glass
Chapter 620: The Broken Wine Glass
Chapter 620: The Broken Wine Glass
"But His Majesty is not your enemy!"
In the palace corridor, Gilbert Cassel turned pale with shock.
"He is your father! You cannot be his enemy! You must not..."
Thales let out a wry smile with a hum:
"Must not?"
Gilbert composed himself, trying to remain calm:
"Listen, Your Highness, I indeed had always anticipated you, trusted you, and been loyal to you, but that was never my intent!"
"Then what could it possibly be?"
Thales said with irony:
"To have me play the Prince, just to be a mascot in the Mindis Hall?"
Gilbert's frown deepened, growing more anxious:
"No, Your Highness, you are supposed to be the future that everyone is waiting for, everyone! And you have always acted as such,
everything should have happened naturally, like water flowing into a channel!"
But Thales only silently looked at the hand that the other person had placed on his shoulder.
Wasn't everything now happening naturally, like water flowing into a channel?
Teacher?
"You are the heir to the throne, and of course, I understand you feel stifled and dissatisfied with the current situation, but that should at least wait until, wait until..."
"The day I am crowned without trouble?" Thales said indifferently.
Gilbert hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and nodded:
"Of course, by then, I will support you with all my might, no matter how difficult it is, no matter what sacrifices are needed, I swear!"
"I, Sodo, Quero, Connie, Gui, and many other enlightened people of the Kingdom, we will all help you, but before that-"
"Help me?"
Thales coldly interrupted him:
"Just like how you 'helped' me in the past?"
Gilbert halted.
Thales raised his right hand, slowly but unmistakably pushing away Gilbert's palm:
"Six years ago, I asked you to search for my 'friends' in the Lower City District."
"I requested your help to find them, save them, assist... me."
Gilbert was stunned and said sorrowfully:
"Your Highness, I, I failed in my duty, and I cannot shirk the blame..."
"I just came back from the Kingdom Secret Agency." Thales spoke calmly:
"Do you know? I found out that they were not as you said, refusing to help me because they dislike me. In fact, the Secret Agency was very keen on searching for my childhood friends."
Gilbert's face changed slightly.
"Your Highness, the Secret Agency has always had a tense relationship with you, they are so eager because..."
But Thales cut him off, speaking for himself:
"And they also told me: over the years, Gilbert, you have used your connections and face to find the Chief Defense Officer, mobilized the
city hall and the Hall of Vigilance, assembled patrols and tax officer teams, and launched several large-scale cleanings and sweeps of the Lower City District and West Ring District-just to help me find people."
The young man seriously looked into his teacher's eyes:
"I am very grateful, Gilbert."
Gilbert was shocked and didn't know how to reply.
"Until the Secret Agency told me more."
Thales remained expressionless:
"Over the years, the city hall and Hall of Vigilance have struck out so overtly, taking to the field, intervening directly in the Dark Street Brotherhood and Blood Vial Gang's dog-eat-dog fight."
"They drove away the homeless, dispersed beggars, caused great misfortune to those without power or influence at the bottom. They inspected stalls, closed down shops, making the lives of honest and poor people difficult. They arrested petty thieves, extorted local gangs, but let the truly despicable scum get away. They made an example out of a few evil figures, used them to boost their achievements and soothe the public, but turned a blind eye to greater oppression and exploitation. Their actions were rash and bombastic, but conveniently allowed those forces lurking in the corners to
scatter."
Thales scrutinized the other person closely:
"They were brutish and cold-hearted, arrogant and self-righteous,
like using an iron plow to sweep the floor, caring more about the
noise than the cleanliness."
"And after they left, the already chaotic Lower City District was left in
an even worse state."
Upon hearing this, Gilbert hesitated for a long time:
"Your Highness, I, I didn't know, I'm sorry, if I had known the Chief
Defense Officer and they...
But Thales did not let him finish:
"What's most important is."
"Their actions almost irreversibly destroyed all the clues," the Prince
raised his voice:
"From abandoned houses to Red Lane, everything has changed beyond recognition. Now to trace the clues to find those beggars
from back then..."
"It's nearly impossible."
Thales carefully gauged Gilbert's reaction:
"It's as though, as though someone did it on purpose."
"Just to stop me-from finding them."
At that moment, the Minister of Foreign Affairs suddenly changed
color!
"Is that so," in the dark palace corridor, the youth softly said, "Gilbert?
When you requested the Hall of Vigilance?"
"Is what the Secret Agency told me the truth?"
The Minister of Foreign Affairs didn't answer.
In the air, only Gilbert's steady breathing was heard.
The silence lasted for a very long time.
Thales shook his head and continued to speak.
"Six years ago, when I asked you to find them, you told me it couldn't.
be done, because 'it was for confidentiality""
"After I became a Prince at the national conference, you still said it couldn't be done, 'for their safety""
"Then when I went to the Northland, you wrote that you were working on it but progress was slow, 'to avoid alerting those with ill
intentions!"
"Until I returned to the Kingdom, you told me you hadn't found them
and at the same time, advised me not to look for them, because-'you
can't go back!"
Thales calmly faced his teacher, as if telling someone else's story.
No answer.
The silence remained an uncomfortable presence.
Thales lifted his head with a light chuckle.
"The Secret Sector said that after six years, you still haven't been able
to find them."
"Because you never really wanted to find them."
Thales said softly,
"Or should I say, is the Secret Sector lying?"
But Gilbert only kept his head deeply bowed, his expression indecipherable.
The silence that followed lasted a long time.
"Never mind, Gilbert, whether the Secret Sector lied or how much
they lied," the youth turned away, speaking as if in a trance, "It doesn't
matter anymore, it's no longer important."
Just then, Gilbert suddenly spoke up:
"The Secret Sector hasn't told you anything, have they?"
"You were just trying to test my reaction, just like you tested Duke
Iris."
Thales exhaled a long breath.
The Sly Fox of Starlight.
"Yes."
Thales had a look of desolation.
"The Secret Sector fears me and told me nothing."
"Everything I know, I deduced from revisiting old places in the Lower
City District and the West Ring District, and from what I observed."
Gilbert closed his eyes.
In the corridor, Thales and Gilbert didn't speak. The two just tacitly
avoided each other's gaze, looking elsewhere.
After what seemed like an eternity, Gilbert finally spoke again.
"I'm sorry,"
he said, his voice weary and his words the same:
"But you cannot find them."
Thales let out a long sigh, one that carried both pain and relief.
Once again, both men fell silent.
"You know, I once tried to convince myself, Gilbert."
Thales faced the darkness in the corridor, his tone ordinary, even kind
and friendly, as if chatting with an old friend.
"Really, I tried. I worked hard to convince myself: although Gilbert
Cassel is known as the Sly Fox and holds a high position, he doesn't know the ways of the Lower City District. He doesn't know; he wouldn't intentionally ruin leads or deliberately stop me from finding people, which is why he resorted to the most straightforward and brutal method in the world."
"And he is my teacher, one of the people I trust most in this world. I should not and cannot doubt him."
"I told myself that as long as you tell me you haven't done such things,
I would believe you."
Thales had a vacant look in his eyes:
"I tried, really, I tried."
Upon hearing this, Gilbert lifted his head, struggling to speak:
"Your Highness, I, I..."
"Why?"
Gilbert fell silent for a while before saying wearily: "During the Year of Blood, His Majesty was crowned in haste,
surrounded by enemies, the throne unstable. Renaissance Palace had to resort to strange tactics, strict policies to quell the chaos." "Morat Hansen was also the former king's old friend with considerable experience. The Kingdom Secret Agency thus received substantial trust and operated independently, wielding power beyond the law." "Such methods were initially very effective-simple, brutal, and straightforward. But over time, it indulged His Majesty's impulsive nature and blurred the lines of the Secret Sector's authority." Thales furrowed his brow.
"Now they have His Majesty's support, but what about when you
ascend the throne?"
"As you can imagine, in order to retain their influence, the officials of the Secret Sector will go to great lengths to grasp means of controlling you, and your past and origins are their most criticized
weaknesses. Your old acquaintances are exactly the leverage the Secret Sector needs!"
"But you are the future of the Kingdom of Starlight, the hope for
reforming the royal policies. I could not let the Black Prophet or anyone with ill intentions confine you in the slightest." Gilbert looked at Thales, his eyes dim: "So you cannot find them, you simply can't."
"Even if you find them before the Secret Sector does, it's unacceptable. The leads about you... about them... should be buried forever, known to none."
The words of the Minister of Foreign Affairs fell.
In the corridor, even the Everlasting Lamp seemed to dim
considerably.
"So, Gilbert, you've lied to me,"
Thales said, seemingly in a daze: "From the very beginning." In that moment, Gilbert turned deathly pale.
Still, Thales gave him a consoling smile "It's okay, Gilbert, I understand," Thales said tiredly:
"But now, do you feel it-the weight and thickness of this net." "Your subconscious obedience to it, its silent control over you, including its influence on me and my wariness of it, all come secondary to our sincerity." Gilbert looked bitter, swallowing hard. Thales stared blankly at the shadows in the corridor: "Just like a student facing a teacher, an employee facing a boss, a wife facing a husband, a subject facing a king-if from the beginning, they stand on an unequal scale, remaining in tainted waters, then what governs their relationship isn't just each other." "When we are enveloped in an established power structure, Gilbert, when you have to use all your might just not to be thrown off by the skewed scales, when you are constrained on all sides, overwhelmed by a great burden, when your choices are reduced to 'adapt or
perish." "Even before you realize it yourself, you have completely lost the right.
to choose freely."
"Unless you reject it, step out of it, rise above it." "Overcome it."
Gilbert's breathing became rapid.
"No, Your Highness, I don't understand!" Gilbert's voice was low, almost a subconscious murmur:
"All this, is for, for, for-"
"For my own good?"
Thales continued softly. The Minister of Foreign Affairs did not answer.
Thales exhaled with a smile.
"Gilbert, have you ever wondered why Wyatt always refrains from mentioning you, even though you are father and son?" Upon hearing his son's name, Gilbert trembled slightly.
"I never asked him for the specific reason. But I think I know the deeper cause."
Thales became absent-minded, his thoughts drifting to the Northland:
"Perhaps you know, Gilbert, that I have a friend in Ekster, or so I considered her to be my friend."
"When she was in trouble, I worried about her day and night, agonizing and pondering."
At this point, Thales chuckled:
"I was such a fool, always thinking she relied on me, needed me,
always thinking I was protecting her, helping her, always thinking I
was..."
Thales's smile gradually faded:
"For her own good."
"But I was wrong."
"Because that was not what she wanted." Remembering that familiar face, Thales closed his eyes deeply:
"And I never treated her as an equal friend, at most just someone 'who
needed me!"
Gilbert stared blankly at him, beginning to tremble. "Gilbert, ever since we met, everything you've painstakingly done was
to make me a good king, sparing no sacrifice, going all out to help me
and protect me. I'm grateful, but..." Thales opened his eyes, his gaze clear: "But I am not the sagacious monarch you are looking for, Gilbert."
"Just like my father isn't either." Gilbert jerked violently.
"You can't carve a mold for everyone in your heart and then use all your means to influence and guide them-without feeling anything amiss, even taking pride in it, believing that it's 'for their own good-
just to fit them snugly into that mold." "Because neither I nor Wyatt, not even my father, nor even yourself, Gilbert, we are not people born for molds."
Thales said gently:
"That's why I will never become him." "No matter how you teach me to dress like him, acquire knowledge
like him, and even behave like him, I will never become the next..."
"Prince Mider."
"No matter how perfect his mold might be."
Upon these words, Gilbert shook violently, exclaiming in a lost voice:
"Your Highness, I...
But Thales just smiled kindly, as always. "You are a good teacher, Gilbert, really. You treat your students with
meticulous care, give selflessly, are always ready to answer questions,
think through every detail, are considerate-you really are amazing,
so much so that I can't even find a single flaw." "But it wasn't until I met Old Crow, until I encountered that head-shaking, murmuring Hexer teacher, who always used the three words 'what do you think' to get through the lessons, that I realized."
Thales stepped forward, looking straight into Gilbert's red, moist
eyes:
"Your biggest problem, Gilbert, is that you are too good." "So good that your students can rely entirely on you, need you, so
good that you haven't left even the slightest space for them to be 'not
good."
Gilbert opened his mouth to speak but could only quiver his lips,
welcoming two streams of hot tears.
"But as it turns out, my friend can live just fine even without me
'doing what's best for her!"
"Even better."
Thales sighed deeply, unconsciously wearing a smile: "I'm happy for her."
The next second, Thales hesitated not a whit as he opened his arms
and embraced Gilbert, who could no longer utter a word.
"And I hope, you can be happy for me too, Gilbert."
Thales spoke into his ear, his voice quivering:
"My friend."
The Minister of Foreign Affairs shivered in his embrace. Thales suddenly realized how emaciated Gilbert looked beneath his
impressive
clothes.
But the next moment, the young man repressed his emotions, pushed
back the moisture in his eyes, and said through clenched teeth:
"By the way, Earl Cassel."
"I don't like your timetable."
Thales released the stunned Gilbert, corners of his mouth turning up:
"It's too full."
As his words fell, Thales raised his hand to his chest, bowing
respectfully and meticulously to Gilbert. Just as Gilbert had bowed to him six years prior.
The next second, he summoned all the strength he could muster to
suppress his shaking, straightened his back, lifted his feet, and turned
to leave.
Not daring to look back at him again.
Thud.
The sound of a cane hitting the ground came from behind.
A pang shot through Thales's heart.
But he maintained the perfect smile, took a step forward, and entered
the dark unknown of the corridor. The Royal Court was profound, the lights dim.
But the distracted Thales had hardly walked far before he collided
with a familiar face around the corner. "Oh, I apologize, Your Highness," said the Court Steward, Baron
Quentin, who once lectured Thales not to squander the property of
the Royal Family, while rubbing his forehead:
"I, I didn't see you, it was not intentional."
Thales also pressed his chin in pain.
"It's alright, just an accident." But he was glad that at this moment, there was someone to talk to.
Even if it was just nonsense.
"Baron."
Thales forced a smile.
"I've heard from Captain Adrian that you're not feeling well?"
"Oh, it's nothing, I used to fake sickness to get out of work all the
time." Quentin casually adjusted his elegant cuff and wiped an old notebook with peeled covers, unconcerned. "It's no trouble at all."
"I'm sorry to have troubled you."
The prince apologized in a subdued tone. "Whether it's about the
wine glasses at the banquet, or today... But Steward Quentin waved his hand, interrupting him.
"You know, the glasses aren't really the problem." "They are not that expensive - ah, sorry, I meant to say, they are quite expensive, but there are many workshops and merchants who
rush to pay us, to give us money for the honor of the Royal Family and
the Renaissance Palace using their wine glasses." Quentin sighed.
"Besides, I've wanted to replace those glasses for a while; they're fragile and provide too many excuses for slowness. Now, I just hope
the metal and thick wooden cups will be more reliable."
Thales smiled, nodded in acknowledgement, and prepared to leave.
"But... why?"
Thales paused at the question.
He saw Baron Quentin looking at him thoughtfully. "Your Highness, I've always been curious, why do Northerners feel the
need to smash their wine glasses when they drink?"
Smashing wine glasses.
Thales was silent for a moment.
"You know, even though I've stayed there for six years, I'm also
puzzled."
Baron Quentin said, with seeming indifference.
"To exert force, to throw, to break, to collide, to shatter, to smash -
but what does all of this prove? Extravagance? Bullying? Generosity?
Ferocity? A desire for power? Masculinity?" Quentin looked at him, his tone suddenly softening. "You know, to use those rare and precious glasses passed down through history, used by grandfathers and fathers, to drink wine in gratitude and peace, wouldn't that be joyous for everyone?" Thales was silent for a while longer. "I don't know."
"But if I hadn't smashed it in Mindis Hall."
Thales raised his head, a weak smile on his face. "The Renaissance Palace wouldn't have new wine glasses, right?"
Quentin gazed at him, lost in thought for a moment.
"The new batch of glasses might not be better than the old."
"Maybe," Thales responded, his emotions complex.
"But you
don't know."
"What if I do know?" Baron Quentin responded quickly.
"What if I've seen them?"
Thales looked at him.
"Maybe it's hard for you to imagine, Your Highness," the Baron sighed,
caressing the cracked old notebook tucked under his arm.
"But I've been working here for over thirty years."
"When I was just a little brat, I followed my father around with paper
and pen, taking notes and balancing books, tending to the needs of
every Candor."
The Court Steward said, lost in thought. "Every single one."
Every single one... Candor.
Thales did not speak.
Baron Quentin came back to his senses, looking at Thales with indescribable emotion in his eyes. "So I've seen every batch of wine glasses."
"Every batch."
Thales was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "You're very lucky."
Quentin smiled wryly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
In the next moment, the prince smiled at the Steward.
"But I remember, Hexer - Gilbert's teacher once said something."
"Under the sun, everything is novel."
After hearing this, Baron Quentin was silent for quite a while before
he sighed.
"You do know that, even though the Candor Royal Family is
immensely wealthy," he looked at Thales, worry in his eyes.
"You still have to pay for the glasses you broke."
Pay the bill.
Thales pressed his lips together.
"Yes."
"It's only right."
Both fell silent.
"Or should I make a note of it, Your Highness?"
Quentin broke the silence, patting the notebook and speaking with a
hint of hope.
"You know, maybe when you're older, after you've been crowned, the
Debt Lords might let you... have it for free?"
Have it for free.
Thales looked up, continuing to stare into the darkness beneath the
distant
lantern
lights.
"Thank you, Baron, but there's no need."
Thales spoke pensively, slightly distracted.
"I still have to pay the bill."
"Sooner."
"Or later."