[13] The First Step Toward a Dream (5)
Rian spat out the water he'd been drinking. This was absurd—Shirone in danger? He was supposed to be seeing a friend off in a few hours; the news made him even more flustered.
"Shirone? What happened?"
"Well… um…"
"Say it! What is it?"
"It seems… Head Steward Louis has reported it to the House Lord. I don't know all the details, but I heard the young master and a boy named Shirone have been acting like friends…"
"Gods damn it!"
Rian grabbed the clothes that had been rolled on the rock and began dressing. Kite, who'd been watching, asked.
"What's going on? Who's Shirone?"
"He's a friend. I hadn't told anyone because he's a commoner, but Louis must've tattled. The bastard! Master, let's end training today. I have to go to the manor."
"No. You can't."
Rian froze mid-step and looked back at Kite in disbelief.
"What do you mean? My friend's in danger."
"You said he was a commoner."
"What does that matter? Master, you're like that too! Anyone who can talk with a blade can be a friend!"
Kite clicked his tongue. His reckless pupil had finally stirred up trouble. He didn't know every detail, but after so many years he could see the outline.
"What do you plan to do when you get there? Cry and beg? Or try to win your father over with some show?"
"Master!"
"Rian, anyone can become a friend. But that's between you and that boy. Your friendship directly challenges the Ozent family's hierarchy. This isn't a place for childish whims."
"So you want me to just stand by? I reached out to Shirone first. I don't want to be a coward!"
Kite studied his student's eyes. What fine eyes—honest, passionate, and above all, pure.
Kite drew the treasured sword at his waist and handed it to Rian. Seeing a real blade made Rian's heart pound. He didn't know exactly what Kite intended, but the meaning was clear.
If you want to save your friend, be prepared to draw your sword.
"If you can go into the manor with this sword, I'll let you. But if your resolve isn't that strong, don't move from here. This is no longer in my hands."
"Master."
A hot smile spread across Rian's face as he looked at Kite. He bowed politely and extended both hands; Kite wordlessly passed him the sword.
"Thank you. I won't forget this kindness."
"Remember this: abandoning a friend is like abandoning a part of yourself."
"Yes!"
Rian strapped the sword to his waist and ran toward the manor. Kite watched him go with satisfaction. It was over now. The farewell had come a little early, but at least his student would leave like a man.
May fortune favor the boy's future.
* * *
A chill hung over the manor. Work had stopped; stewards and maids stood frozen, not daring to make a sound.
Behind the sofa where the immediate family sat, Head Steward Louis adjusted his glasses. Beside him, Deputy Steward Temuran glared at Shirone with a hard, contemptuous stare.
Shirone knelt before the family, taking a torrent of hostile, scornful looks. He might as well have been in the middle of a coliseum.
"Steward, report."
"Yes, House Lord. The Shirone employed by Temuran has lived here for a year and a half and is accused of trampling the Ozent family's dignity. Numerous stewards witnessed the youngest master associating with Shirone, and I myself have heard Shirone speak to the young master in an impertinent way. I will attach the stewards' sworn statements compiled by Temuran as evidence."
Bishoff placed his hands behind his back in silence. He snapped through the files Louis handed him with a crisp sound.
While Bishoff skimmed the documents, Reina edged up to Shirone and whispered in his ear.
"Shirone, don't worry too much. I'll try to persuade Father. Nothing bad will happen."
Shirone lifted his head slowly; his face was unnaturally calm. It sent a chill through the room. Even in this situation there was no trace of fear on him.
'He's not pretending to be calm. He's really not afraid.'
Shirone felt no fear. His mind hovered outside the precipice; the future was a mirage. Nothing had been decided yet.
Bishoff closed the file and spoke. Pale, matching his dark hair, his voice carried a chill that made people draw back.
"Arian Shirone, is what these papers say true?"
"Father, Shirone and Rian—"
"Reina, I didn't ask you. I'll give you a chance to speak later. For now, be silent."
Reina felt it would be hopeless. Bishoff, who wielded principle and coldness as power, would not be swayed by emotion.
"I have one question."
Shirone said it calmly. The stewards watching him flinched at his composure, but it did not move Bishoff.
"Speak."
"If the youngest master and I are friends, what will become of the youngest master?"
Shirone's concern for his friend before himself brought a soft, affectionate expression to Reina's face.
"It won't affect him at all. This hearing is to question you, a commoner. No matter what crimes Rian may commit, as long as it concerns the family we will protect and shield him."
Bishoff's words were laced with thorns—don't expect us to treat a noble's son like a commoner.
Shirone accepted that and seemed relieved. He smiled brightly and told the truth willingly.
"In that case, I'm glad. Rian and I are friends. We've built a strong friendship over a year, and it will continue."
No one showed it openly, but Shirone's words sent a shock through the room. The stewards who had doubted were stunned to see it was true.
A noble scion and a woodsman's child had been friends for a year—something seen only in plays was actually happening.
"The family's prestige has been trampled. Shirone, by my authority as House Lord of the Ozent family, I sentence you to execution."
"Father! Please, just listen a moment! You said you'd give me the right to speak!"
"You confessed yourself. There's no point in wasting time. Steward."
"Yes, House Lord."
"Carry out Shirone's execution. And under no circumstances is this to be spread outside."
"Understood."
Reina grew desperate. She could hardly blame Shirone for being unnervingly calm at a time like this.
But how could she stop it? Her father had never once reversed a decision made as House Lord.
"Who said you could execute him!"
Rian burst through the manor doors as if to break them down. His very presence seemed to raise the temperature in the hall.
Everyone knew Rian's nature—his fire against injustice.
"Who dares to execute my friend without my permission?"
"I do."
Bishoff answered curtly.
"Why? He hasn't committed a capital crime; he's only become my friend!"
"You don't have to commit a capital crime to be put to death. The affairs of nobles are complicated. You've grown up enjoying privileges because you were raised to bear those complications as a noble's son."
"If the privileges require killing my friend, I'll refuse them!"
"You're foolish, Rian. A friend is someone on equal footing who shares feelings. Does that boy consider you a friend? How can you be sure? Suppose he approached you for money—you wouldn't know. Even so, would you trust him?"
"Shirone isn't the kind of kid to do something so base!"
"Then prove it. Show that Shirone isn't such a person."
Reina bit her lip as she listened. Bishoff's logic ensnared her. There was no proof Shirone was a true friend. Whether he had ill intent or sincere affection, his behavior would be the same.
Rian felt the chill of his father's reasoning. It was cold—asking for evidence of friendship. It threatened to freeze him.
He gripped the real sword at his waist. The heat from his master's hand seemed to pass into him.
"Hahaha!"
Then he laughed openly. He finally understood his master's intent. Kite hadn't given him the sword to sulk with or to act spoiled.
"You can't beat Father. I almost would've given in. Evidence? I believe him. Even if Shirone doesn't think of me as a friend, so long as I believe it, Shirone is my friend. That's proof!"
Bishoff's face reddened. In any case, Rian's words were true.
"So you intend to defy the House Lord? This isn't a matter between father and son. If you disobey the House Lord's orders, you could be expelled from the family."
Bishoff took a hard line. To disown a son—the stewards and immediate family were stunned by the declaration.
But Rian didn't blink. He spoke to his father with an unfamiliar, formal politeness, as if addressing a superior rather than a family member, and stated his will.
"If I must accept being disowned to protect my friend, I'll accept it gladly."
Bang!
Bishoff slammed his foot down. He couldn't allow it. His son was only seventeen—declaring he'd accept disownment? It was childish and insolent, exploiting the weakness of the parent–child bond.
"Draw your sword. If you willingly accept disownment, it means you'd abandon even your family. If you truly care for your friend, stake your life."
Rian drew his sword. The gesture only angered Bishoff more.
"Do you even intend to raise a blade against your father?"
"This sword is not to slay my father. It's to protect my convictions."
"When did you become so sentimental about friends? You didn't even mingle with nobles your age. You sought them out because they seemed to shine. You take comfort by sacrificing commoners."
"No. This time you're wrong, Father. Shirone is the brighter friend. I want to help him shine more."
Bishoff was at a loss. What was it about that boy? What words had so thoroughly swayed his simpleminded son?
"You? You were the one who convinced Rian? That a commoner and a noble can be friends? You persuaded him?"
Even as the family teetered on the brink of disaster, Shirone remained composed.
"Yes. I said so."
Rian stepped in front of Shirone and said, "Shirone, stay still. I'll handle this. No matter what happens, I won't—"
"Rian."
Shirone cut him off. The coldness in his voice Rian hadn't heard before made him turn in surprise.
"Take responsibility for what you must take responsibility for."
His voice, tone, demeanor, and intent were as cold as Bishoff's. The family—even Rian—felt a chill.
"Oh—of course. Naturally."
"But—"
Shirone continued.
"You don't have to shoulder responsibility for things you aren't required to. We've always done everything together and come this far. We can get through this together, too."
As if nothing had happened, Shirone's face softened kindly.
"Even if I die, I won't regret becoming your friend."
Shirone's final words detonated in Rian's already blazing chest. Tears welled up. From that point, he could see nothing else.
"Exactly! Even if I'm cast out, we're still friends!"
The stewards began to murmur. Those who had been cynical at first now didn't know which side to choose.