Chapter 46: A Royal Dilemma and a Family Feud

Upon the request of Marquis Douglas Moore, who had feigned an overseas departure for other affairs and brought Hans with him, the Lord of Riga willingly offered the fortress’s inner library for their clandestine meeting.

‘Ssshk—’

Noticing Ethan draw a sharp breath at the door, as if steeling himself, Bliss tightened his grasp on his hand.

“Don’t worry,” Bliss assured him. “Grandfather is not like Mother.”

“Bliss already contacted His Excellency the Marquis, but I…”

Ethan sighed, having been unable to contact Hans due to communication restrictions. In response, Bliss gently patted the back of his hand.

“He was well aware that you weren’t in a position to make contact, so there’s no need to fret. In fact…”

As Bliss trailed off, Ethan looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Bliss merely offered a wry smile and shook his head.

“Shall we go in? I believe we’ve kept them waiting long enough.”

Watching Ethan once again draw a sharp breath, Bliss pushed open the door.

“Bliss!”

“Ethan!”

Inside the room, the two men, who had been waiting with palpable anxiety, sprang to their feet and rushed forward to embrace their family.

“Uncle Hans…”

“Ethan, you’re not hurt anywhere, are you? To think they sent you to such a perilous place… I should have stopped it, no matter what.”

While he had already received news of Ethan’s safety from Marquis Douglas, his hands still sought to confirm it, tracing over Ethan’s body in a desperate need for reassurance.

Marquis Douglas, noticing a flicker of subtle wariness on Bliss’s otherwise expressionless face as he observed them, promptly took his grandson’s hand and guided him towards the table.

“Now, now, let’s all take a seat,” he urged. “The tea the Lord of Riga provided will grow cold.”

At his words, Hans finally released Ethan.

He settled opposite Marquis Douglas and Bliss, with Ethan beside him, then offered a belated greeting.

“Lord Bliss, my apologies for the belated greeting.”

“……It’s fine.”

The seating arrangement was clearly not to Bliss’s liking, and his dissatisfaction was evident. After a brief hesitation, he offered only a terse reply, prompting Marquis Douglas to shake his head.

To others, his grandson likely appeared as impassive as ever. Yet, to Marquis Douglas, who had cared for Bliss more deeply than his own mother, the boy’s childish pique was undeniably transparent.

Deciding he would address Bliss’s behavior later, the Marquis shifted his attention to Ethan.

“Have we met before? Your face seems familiar.”

“I am Ethan Prescott. I became part of the family under Hans Palmer’s sponsorship. We briefly crossed paths at the villa last time.”

“I heard you had no memories.”

“Yes. Uncle Hans, an Esper, helped me when I was effectively a person with no connections.”

“Did you at least remember that you are a Guide?”

To the pointed question, Ethan responded without a moment’s hesitation.

“My memories are fragmented; some are present, others are not. There are certainly aspects I cannot disclose, and I would appreciate your understanding that I withhold them primarily because they would likely be beyond your comprehension.”

It was inconceivable that Bliss would not have reported such matters to Marquis Douglas.

Observing Hans’s calm demeanor, Ethan surmised that all cross-referencing had already been completed.

Ethan cleverly leveraged this point, implying that His Excellency the Marquis would likely not comprehend the more outlandish details of his past, such as tales of ghosts, thereby subtly obscuring other information about himself.

He used significant information, which had to be disclosed to some extent, to overshadow any trivialities.

Marquis Douglas, who had been scrutinizing Ethan with keen eyes, saw them widen slightly, then soften into a gentle curve.

“Don’t be overly cautious,” the Marquis said, a gentle tone in his voice. “I am simply overwhelmed by the reality of your presence here. Of course, matters of ghosts and the like are intriguing. A few hidden stories entangled with spirits always make for good conversation, wouldn’t you agree? I trust Hans implicitly, and if he trusts you, then that is more than enough for me.”

It was a classic case of a master outmaneuvering a novice. The Marquis, who had spent years navigating the treacherous waters of politics and business to protect Bliss, now smiled knowingly, having effortlessly seen through Ethan’s intentions. This time, it was Ethan who was left speechless.

“…Thank you.”

Observing their exchange, Bliss let out a short sigh, feeling both a sense of relief and a grudging acceptance that he ultimately had to acknowledge Hans’s influence.

Indeed, Marquis Douglas’s deep-seated trust in Hans Palmer, cultivated over a considerable period, had undoubtedly made Ethan’s acceptance much smoother.

Reaching across the table, Bliss placed his arm near Ethan, who sat opposite him, and then spoke. His eyes, however, remained fixed on Ethan, even as his words were directed at Marquis Douglas.

“…What is the reason for your personal visit here?”

If there was something to discuss, a secure line would have sufficed.

A figure of Marquis Douglas’s stature, going so far as to fabricate his travel itinerary to visit this location, surely had reasons beyond mere curiosity about Ethan.

Bliss waggled a finger at Ethan, who watched him with wide, curious eyes. It was a clear gesture, asking for his hand.

Witnessing this, Hans feigned taking a sip of tea, raising his cup to conceal his deepening frown.

Marquis Douglas cleared his throat, then subtly reached across the table, gently pulling down his grandson’s hand, which had been impertinently waggling.

“There is a message from His Highness Prince Herace,” the Marquis revealed. “It seems your opinions—yours, Ethan’s, and Hans’s—are crucial enough that a secure line wouldn’t suffice for this exchange.”

“……Are you suggesting you intend to use Ethan as a pawn?”

At Bliss’s blunt question, delivered with a rigid face as if he had already surmised the answer, both Ethan and Hans were startled, straightening their postures and widening their eyes.

Marquis Douglas continued, his voice even.

“Ethan, or rather, I’ll simply call you Ethan,” the Marquis began. “Both you and Hans must already be somewhat aware that we are aligned with the First Prince’s faction.”

“Yes, it seems a bit… complicated, but you two certainly appear to be,” Ethan replied.

A bitter smile touched Marquis Douglas’s lips at Ethan’s observation.

“Indeed,” the Marquis affirmed. “Even within the Moore family, there’s a stark division between those who support First Prince Herace Green and those who back Second Prince Devon Green. Most of Devon Green’s supporters come from collateral families where Guides hold prominent positions. And Bliss’s own mother, who obsesses over bloodline and lineage, entirely disregarding Guides, stands with them. This factionalism has become rampant not just within our family, but across many high-ranking noble houses with numerous branched lines, ever since the current King fell ill.”

“I’ve also observed this since my arrival here,” Hans interjected, “but why is such a situation unfolding?”

Hans, who had been listening in silence, finally posed the question.

“It’s due to the vastly divergent policies advocated by Prince Herace and Prince Devon,” Marquis Douglas explained. “Typically, the Green Dynasty, renowned for producing exceptional Guides and Espers, maintains a delicate balance through a measured rivalry between the two. The specifics tend to shift slightly depending on whether the reigning monarch is an Esper or a Guide. However, this time, only two direct princes are contending for the throne, and the policy directions of both could shatter the equilibrium that has been upheld until now.”

As Marquis Douglas took a thirsty sip of tea, Bliss leaned forward, finally taking Ethan’s hand and placing it on the table. He gently stroked the back of Ethan’s hand with his long fingers as he added, his voice low.

“First Prince Herace married a female Guide with a matching rate in the 70th percentile to be his princess consort. Though her family is of humble origins, he is a monogamous royal, a precedent utterly unheard of among past kings. His Highness Herace is imprinted on the Princess Consort. If he ascends to the throne, the ‘White’ faction will vanish from the royal palace. And with that, a myriad of changes will surely follow.”

“Such a thing…!”

“Second Prince Devon, on the other hand, is championing a Guide-first policy. Given his control over the Center, an institution wielding immense public influence, numerous policies benefiting Guides have already been improved and put into effect.”

“That… isn’t that a good thing?”

While there had been issues, such as Hans’s predicament, this was undeniably a monumental advancement in Ethan’s eyes, especially when compared to the Guides’ past, where their human rights were far inferior to Espers.

In fact, it almost seemed as if Guides now held a slightly elevated status.

“On the surface, yes. Indeed, some of these policies were even welcomed by Espers. Thanks to them, Guides who had been living in hiding registered with the Center, which then became the empire’s foremost institution, boasting the highest number of top-tier Guides. Consequently, Espers were also assigned Guides without the fear of succumbing to agony. Many Espers even support Devon. However, if one truly examines the essence of Devon Green…”

Bliss squeezed Ethan’s hand firmly. Instinctively, Ethan felt that this conversation was also connected to him. Instead of Bliss, who hesitated, the Marquis let out Devon’s true intentions in a sigh.

“He desires to leverage his status as the first supreme multi-Guide since Anna Green to dominate Espers, alongside the Guides who ardently support him. Furthermore, he wishes to restart the wars of conquest against neighboring nations. Therefore… the Esper he most desires to possess is…”

The future head of the Moore family, who commands an elite force of powerful Espers and runs a weapons business. Moreover, the possessor of Shadow, the rarest of abilities.

“…Bliss Moore.”

Ethan’s blue eyes wavered as he muttered the name, almost chewing on it.

“Are you saying that Ethan will also be put in danger by leveraging his status as a supreme multi-Guide?!”

Hans sprang to his feet, while Marquis Douglas drained the last of his tea and, with a weary expression, affirmed his statement.

“Precisely. But that is not something I welcome either. Is that not right, Bliss?”

“Hans Palmer is already more than I can handle.”

His low voice, conveying his genuine feelings, sounded almost like a growl. Hans met Bliss’s gaze head-on and finally blurted out the words he had been holding back.

“And who says you’re so great? I wished Ethan’s Esper, the one he’d allow mucosal contact with, would be a pretty lady, not some gloomy man!”

“Uh, Uncle. We haven’t… kissed yet…”

“You haven’t had mucosal contact yet?! Ethan, then there’s still hope!”

“What on earth are you talking about? Ethan is already our Bliss’s matched Guide…”

“As long as he isn’t imprinted, that’s all that matters, Your Excellency. I won’t tell Bliss not to Guide him. However, I hope you won’t interfere if Ethan eventually falls in love with another woman.”

“What is this nonsense?! Bliss! Hans, are you saying you won’t accept Bliss?!”

“Shouldn’t you grant me the wish of seeing a niece or nephew who resembles Ethan?”

“That… I’m curious about that too, but shouldn’t Ethan’s partner naturally be Bliss?”

“Are you saying you’ll make Ethan a Moore? I object to this marriage!”

“What’s wrong with our Bliss?!”

“No, wait…”

Suddenly, it had devolved into a squabble between the elders of both families. Ethan rolled his eyes, feeling as though the room was growing impossibly warm. Why had the conversation taken such a drastic turn to this topic? If he were to confess that while they hadn’t kissed, they had engaged in mucosal contact, would Uncle Hans understand?

“We did. Mucosal, that is.”

“…!!!”

The two men, who had been arguing, were instead flustered into silence by the strange expression Bliss wore—a face usually devoid of emotion, now filled with every conceivable regret. Bliss, his pride clearly wounded, forced out the words, his face like he was chewing sand.

“Ethan… performed mucosal contact Guiding on me… and because of that… I experienced a Guiding shock. To be clear, it was not a kiss; it was precisely mucosal contact Guiding.”

“Guiding shock?”

Bliss shot an accusing look at his grandfather, who had asked the question with a wounded expression. Marquis Douglas flinched, but Bliss, still looking as though he was spitting sand, conceded.

“I fainted.”

“……”

A flicker of pity crossed the eyes of both Hans and the Marquis. Ethan, whose ears were burning as he watched and listened to it all, suddenly broke the silence with a look of realization.

“So, are we getting married?”

“I object!”

“Of course we are!”

Perhaps the long-standing trust between Hans and Marquis Douglas was not as unbreakable as it seemed. Ethan thought this as he gently patted the back of his Esper’s hand, who was still floundering in the swamp of his bruised pride.