Silent Witch

Book 16: Chapter 12: What the Kind Prince Wished For

Revenge

That has always been a terrifyingly sweet word for Monica.

When her father died, she had the choice to give in to anger and hatred and live for revenge.

But Monica just cried, grieved and escaped into the world of numbers.

It's not that she had no anger or hatred towards the person who killed her father. But she was afraid to surrender herself to those intense passions.

"I wouldn't mind if you killed me. Go ahead and strangle me, or burn me to ashes with your magic."

"I can't"

Even as Monica answered with a trembling voice, Isaac kept pressing her hand against his own neck, refusing to let go.

Isaac's hand was chillingly cold.

"If it's you, you could have exposed all of mine and Duke Crockford's deeds to the light, and declared your father's innocence."

If Monica revealed the truth about the body swap ten years ago, she could have claimed her father's innocence, as he was executed to conceal that truth. But Monica did not do that.

By pursuing the truth behind Benedict Rayne's execution seven years ago, the truth of the body swap would be exposed.

And then, Isaac's execution would be unavoidable.

"Yes, if I made everything public, I might have been able to put my father's resentment to rest."

When considering this Isaac rescue operation, that was what caused Monica the most conflict.

If she kept everything ambiguous and hid the truth in the dark, she could save Isaac.

But then she wouldn't be able to pursue her father's innocence.

"If I told the truth, they would know that father wasn't evilthat father was amazingI could shout that out loud to everyone"

How much she must have wished she could yell that at the Supreme Council's gathering.

"But even soeven so, I"

Drop by drop, tears fell onto Isaac's cheeks.

Isaac's hand loosened. His azure eyes looked up at Monica in confusion.

Monica scrunched up her face and muttered in a trembling voice,

"I wanted to save you, the you who is alive now."

Putting her father's honor on one side of the scale, and Isaac's life on the other, Monica chose Isaac's life.

Over and over and over again, apologizing to her father in her mind.

Monica slid down off of Isaac and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. Then she took out a leather-bound diary from the bag beside the sofa.

The moment Isaac saw the cover, he seemed to realize what it was. His eyes flew open, staring at the diary.

"That'sArk's"

Yes, the genuine diary of Felix Ark Ridill, which Monica obtained from the northern monastery.

Ever since reading this diary, Monica had made up her mind.

She would absolutely save Ike and show him this diary.

"Please read this."

When Monica offered him the diary, Isaac took it with a tense expression and gently stroked the cover with his fingertips.

He let out a sigh, and his profile seemed to be reminiscing about the past.

Isaac opened the diary cover. Then he slowly read through each page, one by one. Monica watched in silence.

For a while, the only sound in the silent room was the rustling of turning pages.

Eventually, as the diary reached its latter half, the image of the "Ideal Prince" appeared.

Beside the prince's illustration were the conditions for an ideal prince. One of them was "kind to everyone," with a circled check mark that Isaac traced with his finger.

"Ah, yes. I was the one who circled that."

He muttered in a half-talking-to-himself voice, and Isaac closed his eyes.

"I drove my dearest friend to suicide, burned his body, and took his place and yet, I couldn't even leave behind a proper legacy before barely surviving."

Isaac's finger turned the page. The next page recorded Felix's despair upon learning the truth.

And his childish scheme to set Isaac free.

"I couldn't become the kind prince, could I, Ark?"

His hoarse voice sounded almost like a confession.

Unable to become the kind prince and unable to leave behind a proper legacy, he would live on as Felix Ark Ridill from now on.

No longer able to aspire to the throne, in an incomplete standing.

"Please read to the very end."

Monica, who had silently watched over him all this time, clutched the hem of Isaac's robe as she told him wordlessly.

"That's where Felix's true wish is written."

"His True wish?"

The wish that Isaac thought Felix had was "to remain in people's memories."

He expressed this by alluding to the founding king's story, saying, "I want to leave my name behind, make it shine like a constellation."

But the wish Felix left right before he helped Isaac escape the manor was something else entirely.

As Isaac turned the page and his eyes fell upon the words, he froze.

I may not be able to become a king, but I will still strive to become a kind prince that Ike can be proud of.

Even if I cannot become a magnificent constellation recorded in history, Ike will surely never forget me and will remember me.

And when he grows up, I will go and meet Ike. As Ark, Ike's close friend.

I want to hear all sorts of stories from the grown-up Ike. What kind of life he chose. What wonderful things he discovered. What wonderful people he met.

I'll have those conversations with Ike over drinks.

It doesn't matter if I'm already an old man, or even an elderly man by then.

Someday, I will absolutely, without fail, go to meet Ike.

That is my dream from now on.'

Felix helped Isaac escape the manor, wishing for the day they would meet again.

Even if he couldn't leave behind a grand legacy or become a magnificent star, he believed his close friend Ike would never forget him.

"Felix's death was not a suicide it must have been an accident."

The memories of that night resurged vividly in Isaac's mind.

Even after ten years, the recollection remained fresh and vivid.

The two of them sneaked out of the manor to gaze at the stars. A strong gust of wind blew, tossing their hair about.

Branches swayed and leaves rustled, and Felix's hand clutching his was completely cold.

"The wind is getting stronger. Let's head back, it's not good for our bodies if we stay out any longer, Ark."

"Yeah"

That's right. The wind was strong that night.

A ladder had been propped against the top floor balcony of the manor.

On the roof, Felix's golden hair glistened faintly.

A powerful gust of wind blew, and the round moon peeked out from behind the clouds.

Twinkling stars surrounded the dimly glowing moon.

As if finally able to see them, Felix reached out his hand toward the shining stars that's right, he let go of one hand.

And then, he fell.

"It was an accident?"

It was true that Felix caused a commotion to help Isaac escape, but he had no intention of suicide.

Felix, abandoned by his grandfather, did not choose death in despair.

He truly dreamed of reuniting with Isaac someday.

"Felix wanted you to live freely. To find things you like, people you like and then, someday, meet you when you have found those things."

Isaac's downcast eyes were hidden by the fringe hanging over them.

But Monica saw the tears soak into the diary's pages as they dropped.

"Ark."

His hoarse voice uttered his departed friend's name.

Isaac had blamed himself for driving Felix to his demise. So he tried to discard his face and name to become Felix, believing it would fulfill young Felix's wish.

But Felix's true wish had been for Isaac's happiness all along.

From now on, Isaac would have to live as the Second Prince of this country. Having already discarded his face and name once, he could no longer live as Isaac Walker.

Even then, Monica thought.

"I believe there is something you can do from now on, to fulfill Felix's wish."

Even if his actions were restricted, Isaac was still alive.

As long as he lived, there were many things he could do.

"Find lots and lots of fun things, things you like, for yourself and no one else Because that's what Felix wished for."

As Monica desperately tried to weave her words together, Isaac slowly raised his face.

His azure eyes were swirling with confusion, but the fire of obsession was gone from their depths.

Monica furrowed her brow and smiled at Isaac.

"So please, live. Never think that you'd be better off dead. If you died Felix's wish would never be fulfilled."

Isaac stared at Monica in silence for a while.

Although tense, Monica looked back at him without averting her eyes.

"You"

Isaac's lips trembled slightly.

"Why would you go this far"

Why would she go this far, why could she do this muchfor the man who was the reason for her father's death?

To the perplexed Isaac, Monica straightened her back and cleared her throat.

"You know someone once said something to me that made me happy, and I've wanted to say it myself just once."

"?"

To the bewildered Isaac, Monica puffed out her chest and declared.

It was the words Lana had once said to Monica when she seemed apologetic for always being the one rescued,

"You don't need a reason, to help a friend, Ike!"

It felt as if the lump that had been stuck in his chest for so long was melting away.

As he inhaled deeply, fresh air filled his lungs. It was like breathing fully for the first time in ages.

That's right, he had always felt suffocated by guilt.

The girl who had magically dispelled what bound Isaac seemed about to puff out her chest proudly, but then hunched over and fidgeted with her fingers nervously.

"Ah, um, well, it might be presumptuous of me to call myself a friend since, well, we're just nightlife friends and"

Ah, this is bad.

Isaac let out a wry laugh of a sigh and raked his fingers through his disheveled hair.

Seeing Monica anxiously furrow her brows at him, Isaac squinted.

What filled the emptiness in his chest was a warm emotion.

How could I not fall for her?

Giving in to the impulse of affection, Isaac pulled Monica into an embrace. A muffled "bwah" sound came from just below his chin.

Isaac chuckled, the vibrations rumbling in his throat, and whispered into Monica's ear.

"Thank you, Monica."

He then gently pressed his lips to her blushing white cheek.

The slender body he held in his arms went rigid as a board. Monica clapped a hand to her cheek, turning beet red and trembling violently.

"Whwhwhwh"

"Wh?"

"Not a paw paaaad!"

Isaac threw his head back with a hearty laugh he hadn't had in ages.

Outside the door, Nero muttered "I'm a cat that can read the atmosphere," as he held a small jar of ointment and stifled a yawn.