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Join the ServerAfter their meal, His Highness Herace and Rosalyn Green presented them with wish papers attached to a tie pin and a brooch. Though invited to stay for tea, Ethan politely declined and proceeded to the ceremonial department’s training room in the main palace.
“Why would a training officer hand over a mere clay pot? And are we supposed to put water and herbs in it? On TV, it looked like nothing special at all.”
“It’s only called a ‘clay pot,’ but it’s actually a brown, hand-molded jar. Though rustic in appearance, it’s said to have been fired in a kiln using ancient methods.”
As Ethan exchanged words with Maxon, he turned to Kyle, who was following a short distance behind, and made a request.
“Kyle, once we’re in that training room, could you ask Bliss if it’s possible for me to meet my prospective adoptive parents as soon as possible, perhaps even tomorrow?”
“…Is this because of the Nishan? But even if it’s just a pretense of adoption, you’ll have to stay at their home after expressing your intent. Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
“If I don’t seize this period when all administrative procedures are slowed down by the festival, the adoption might actually go through.”
“It’s merely a slowdown. If they insist it’s a special case and expedite it, we’ll be powerless to stop it….”
Ethan grinned wryly.
“There’s no guarantor in Ashilton, you see. Even if I ask Uncle Hans to agree via the network, there’s nothing we can do if he keeps delaying. With the law allowing up to three delays and the slow administrative process, I think it’s worth a shot. If Uncle Hans were in Ashilton, he might have been assassinated the moment he delayed his consent. After all, if there’s no guarantor, there’s no need to obtain consent.”
“…Understood.”
Upon entering the training room, the subtle scent of tea wafted through the air. Huey Cloud, who had likely just finished his meal, seemed to have ordered tea while attending to personal business, awaiting Ethan’s arrival.
“I’ll have a cup too.”
“……Wasn’t that a dinner invitation at the Rose Palace?”
To the question of whether he hadn’t even managed to get a cup of tea, Ethan replied nonchalantly.
“I figured there would be tea here anyway. And if not, it would have been a double waste of time.”
“Hmph.” Huey, who had been staring at Ethan as if dumbfounded, silently poured him a cup of tea.
“To refuse a royal tea time with such a flimsy excuse… I can’t tell if you’re audacious or simply ignorant of the world.”
Ethan swallowed the thought that he’d be ‘recruited’ if he stayed any longer, forcing an awkward smile. The Royal Palace’s PR department, he mused. He was a history scholar, yearning to delve into countless subjects, yet lately, his visits to the academy’s ancient book library had been few and far between.
“Is this the jar?”
Beside Huey sat a single brown jar. It was not machine-made, but crudely sculpted by hand, its empty opening resting alongside a piece of red cloth. As Ethan pulled out the tie pin and brooch he had received from His Highness Herace and Rosalyn Green, Huey’s eyes widened slightly.
“…You’re quite resourceful.”
The jar was small enough to hold, fitting comfortably within his arms without being heavy. Ethan grinned, taking the jar, placing the items inside, and closing the lid as he spoke lightly.
“I hope His Highness Devon and His Majesty Elliot will give theirs soon too.”
For ten days before the festival begins, the individual bearing the title “Flower of the Empire” must receive the Nishan from the royal family. Rosalyn Green, who previously held the title, was a royal herself, so collecting the Nishan from her fellow royals posed no difficulty. Even Devon Green couldn’t simply make things difficult for another royal during the festival’s ceremonial proceedings.
Now, however, the commoner Ethan Prescott had claimed the title. If the Flower of the Empire failed to collect all the royal Nishan, they would face the dishonor of not being recognized by the royal family. Huey slowly sipped his tea, then replied.
“Collecting them is a skill in itself, I suppose.”
Ethan, perhaps not having expected much, nodded in agreement.
“Right? Oh, Lord Huey, what wish will you write?”
“I don’t bother with Nishan.”
Huey responded coldly to Ethan’s words, who held up a wish paper. Undeterred, Ethan pulled out another wish paper and offered it to him.
“I’ll put yours in the jar too, Lord Huey. Only royals write grand wishes on these ceremonial papers, don’t they? How about ‘Get along well with Enoch’? What do you think of that?”
“……Nonsense.”
When Huey recoiled, refusing the paper, Ethan simply placed the wish paper in front of his teacup, picked up the jar, and stood.
“It’s fine if you don’t give me one, but for a model student like me, it’s a virtue to offer even a small token of gratitude to those who provided education. There are still days left, so think about it.”
Leaving Huey with a dumbfounded expression at his brazen words, Ethan opened the door and walked out, distributing wish papers to the guards standing by. Among them, a red-haired man visibly scoffed, asking who believed in such Nishan these days, yet he carefully tucked the paper into his pocket.
Once the boisterous group had departed, Huey, who had been about to review a few more documents while attending to personal business, paused. He quickly retrieved the wish paper whose edge had begun to soak in spilled tea, tucking it into his inner pocket.
****
“Bliss, what are you going to write for your wish?”
Back home, Ethan moved about, distributing wish papers. Wishing to include Uncle Hans and Marquis Douglas Moore, he openly asked them during a video call from Bliss’s room. Marquis Douglas chuckled, stating the cliché wish of ‘everyone’s health,’ while Uncle Hans expressed a desire to return home quickly, somewhat dampening the mood.
Bliss and Ethan then discussed their decision to accept the adoptive parents recommended by the Elder Council and the Marchioness. They requested Uncle Hans to ignore or reject any related emails from the relevant agencies three times.
Bliss, lying prone on his bed, watched Ethan contemplating his wish paper with a satisfied gaze before lowering his head.
“Bli… Hngh!”
A young crow ghost hovered over the bed, eyeing Ethan’s paper, a bastard ghost lay on the sofa, and Dongja floated near the ceiling. Unconcerned by any of them, Bliss powerfully sucked on the back of Ethan’s neck. He then licked the deeply marked spot, whispering.
“I have only one. To marry my Guide. So, you should write that too.”
A soft groan escaped Ethan’s lips amidst the strange sensation, yet he chuckled.
“The same wish? That’s not bad. But no, I’m going to write a different one.”
‘Was there a wish more important than marrying him?’ As Bliss’s eyes already grew fierce, Ethan quickly added.
“I’m going to pray for the peaceful repose of my parents and the elders who died for me in another world.”
“……I suppose I’ll have to concede on that.”
“But if he’s the aide to the Lord of Veliki, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t have a separate territory? I’m talking about the Viscount Gradis family.”
“…That’s right.”
“I don’t have to go to Veliki for those ten days, do I?”
Bliss kissed the corner of Ethan’s eye with a soft sound, his face creasing into a frown of displeasure.
“The Lord of Veliki is also in Ashilton due to the end of the territory war. I hear they’ve rented a fairly large mansion in the outskirts. The Viscount and Viscountess Gradis are staying there with them.”
Most lords of autonomous regions held the title of Count. Their aides, as Viscounts, typically represented the Counts in their duties rather than possessing their own individual territories, as Counts often left their domains. This contrasted sharply with families like the Cloud family, who were directly affiliated with the Empire, active in the central government, and managed their territories and businesses primarily through their bloodline.
Yet, both the Count and the Viscount were in Ashilton.
As if reading the puzzlement on Ethan’s face, Bliss continued.
“Currently, the territories are said to be guarded by the Lord of Veliki and the Lord of Gradis.”
Ethan wrote his wish—a prayer for the peaceful repose of his parents and the elders—on the paper, then affixed it to a button he had detached from his own jacket.
“Did Veliki believe that if they sacrificed Riga, the ore veins on their side would remain untouched?”
“That’s possible, or it could be connected to Zaisler. Or even his mother’s side.”
Bliss’s expression was grim as he folded what he had written, fastened it with a cufflink, and handed it to Ethan. He detested having to send his Guide into such danger, knowing the risks, but their plan was one that couldn’t be postponed. With this scheme, they needed to secure the Nishan from the King and Devon, establishing Ethan’s backing so firmly that neither the Elder Council nor the Marchioness could raise objections again.
“Don’t worry, the gwi are here.”
Dongja, who had been idly hovering above, displayed a confident demeanor.
[Don’t worry, we’re Ethan’s guardian gwi, you know!]
A deeper concern settled on Bliss’s face. Ethan, briefly comforting Bliss who had discovered the true nature of the ghosts, paused as he was placing their Nishan into the jar. He pulled out a Nishan he didn’t remember putting in, one he’d never seen before.
Clumsily attached to a small piece of gold, the wish paper bore a crow’s footprint.
“…Clearly, it’s a wish born of pure greed, wanting even more gold.”
Bliss chuckled, finding it endearing, but Ethan, unable to contain his embarrassment, burst out.
“Hey, you damn crow! You’re a ghost! Are you, a ghost, making a wish to an Aitoolian fairy right now? You’d make a wish to even Dongja if he could give you something shiny!”
You’ve got to see this next! Not Me, The Fans will keep you on the edge of your seat. Start reading today!
Read : Not Me, The Fans
