Side Story 1.9
Hunting was not his usual pursuit. Competitions over who could fell the most dangerous beast held no appeal to him. His reason for being here was simple:
“This hunt will take place in the forest of Baron Palga’s territory, adjacent to Count Vector’s lands…”
“The territory of Baron Palga.”
By the time his mind registered those words, his mouth had already spat out his intention to go—without even seeking the host’s permission, acting entirely on his own.
At this point, he couldn’t help but ask himself:
‘What exactly do I want to do?’
There was only one possible reason he had reacted like a starving dog finally spotting prey to a backwater baron he’d never cared about before, even after three months and ten days of hunger.
‘To go and see that thing, perhaps?’
The slave named Jaha had originally belonged to House Palga. Later, when Baron Palga committed treason and had his assets confiscated, that slave was transferred to the imperial palace. In other words, until then, Baron Palga had been her master.
Suddenly, he felt displeased. The thought of someone else owning her twisted his gut. Just the fact that the law had once recognized that Baron as her rightful owner made him want to tear the man apart.
Who gave him the right? How dare some worthless fool overstep his place—
If that slave were to have an owner, it should be him. The mere thought of anyone else possessing her made his blood boil. He could never hand her over to anyone.
Lost in murderous thoughts, the crown prince paused when he realized he was thinking exactly like the future emperor. If I keep this up, I’ll be no different from that pathetic fool who lost all rationality over a single slave.
‘Am I getting too immersed and merging with the emperor’s emotions?’
He tried to cool his heated head. These were the emperor’s feelings, not his. He hadn’t even seen that slave yet.
Just then, something small and pure white flickered at the edge of his vision. At first, he thought it was a tuft of cotton—but it was a white rabbit. The most common, worthless prey here, its only distinguishing feature its unusually snow-white fur. A color reminiscent of the first snowfall, untouched by impurities.
Absentmindedly, he pictured the young slave wearing gloves made of snow-white rabbit fur. It suited her well. Not because it was specifically her, but because children were naturally cute. Fluffy like cotton, with plump cheeks—it was hard to dislike them unless one was particularly cruel.
If he ignored the other game and only hunted a measly rabbit, there would surely be talk—but still, for a child that age, pristine white rabbit fur would suit her better than some dull bear pelt.
Having made up his mind, he drew his bowstring—then released it.
The nobles stared at the crown prince cradling a ball of white fur with bewildered expressions.
The fact that the crown prince had deigned to appear at the hunting grounds at all—as if some strange whim had seized him—was baffling enough. But to go through all that trouble only to hunt a rabbit? And not only that, he refused to hand it over to a servant, instead clutching it to his chest like some precious treasure. Thanks to the magic that had neatly healed the wounds on its pelt, the white rabbit now merely seemed to be sleeping peacefully in the prince’s arms.
What in the world is happening here?
Why, of all things, a rabbit—the most insignificant prey?
Logically, no one participated in a hunt just to catch a single rabbit. If one’s skills were that lacking, perhaps—but that certainly didn’t apply to the crown prince. And yet, as if to flaunt it, he had hunted exactly one rabbit and then set aside his bow. There was no choice but to assume some hidden intent behind it.
Was this a warning? A declaration that he would start targeting the weakest among them first? Or—since it was a white rabbit—was he implying he would eliminate those whose family banners bore a white background?
Instinctively, they glanced at their own house flags. The nobles whose banners featured white paled.
Amidst the absurd flood of speculation, the crown prince calmly announced:
“I believe I shall rest now.”
After catching just one rabbit—what exactly did you do to be tired…?
And he had only drawn his bow once to catch it. Not three times, not twice—exactly once. There was no room for excuses about fatigue. But then again, this was the crown prince. Rather than protest, they immediately complied.
“Then we shall escort Your Highness to a place where you may rest.”
“Or perhaps Your Highness would prefer to return to the palace via spatial teleportation magic…”
“Now that I’m here, I’d like to enjoy some fresh air.”
At the crown prince’s remark, the nobles exchanged glances. He clearly had no intention of returning to the imperial palace.
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