I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince - Chapter 61

Lucas let out a sigh. If he suggested looking into Draco, Sion would do whatever it took to stop him. That was why he needed a proper justification to persuade Sion—no, Michelle. Lucas calmly voiced the reason he had already prepared.

“Wasn’t Castle Rion once infiltrated by unidentified assailants? As the Grand Duke, I can’t simply overlook that, can I?”

“That’s true… but does that mean you intend to investigate Draco?”

Lucas nodded. Sion’s expression grew even more troubled. Ever since Rion had left, Lucas had hardly seemed in his right mind. This must be something he chose to do in hopes of finding a sense of purpose. Still, even knowing that, Sion couldn’t blindly agree to such a dangerous journey.

“However, Your Grace seems to have grown weaker. You’ve lost a significant amount of weight. This is going to be a long expedition—will you really be all right? If you fall ill along the way, things could become difficult.”

“I’m well aware. That’s exactly why I must go. I need to focus on my health—so I can accomplish something important.”

“…It’s fine to say that you’re doing this because you’re worried about Lord Rion. I understand. But if you go, you must take me with you.”

Lucas fell silent. Sion didn’t add anything more. He already knew—there was no way to stop Lucas with words.

The next day, Lucas and Sion mounted their horses and departed for the border region.

They had contacted Capucci in advance, who had long maintained close ties with the intelligence guild. With any luck, they’d be able to meet the guild’s agents just outside the outer walls of Pretus.

While they were at it, Lucas intended to gather detailed information about Duke Kitten’s political standing, his international relationships, and how he had come to receive assistance from Draco.

Neigh!

At the pull of the reins, Lucas’s horse pushed off the ground with force, breaking into a gallop. The bitter wind bit into his face like blades, but he didn’t stop.

The reason Rion kept surfacing in his mind was simple—because the boy was still in danger. That was why it weighed so heavily on him. And if he could eliminate that danger, perhaps it would be easier to forget.

The mere fact that there was something he could do for Rion brought a measure of relief to his chest, as though a crushing weight had been lifted.

As they rode toward Pretus, Lucas quietly chanted to himself in his mind:

It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. He’s strong and wise—he’ll make it through. As long as Rion grows up healthy, comes of age, ascends to the throne, and builds a happy family… this suffocating pressure will disappear.

When the time comes, just like how the sun rises, flowers bloom, and snow falls only to melt—Rion too will grow up. Eventually, he may even begin to forget me.

That didn’t sadden Lucas. On the contrary, he truly wished for that to happen.

The sound of the horse’s hooves grew louder as it sped across the snow-covered plains.

Three days after Lucas and Sion arrived in Pretus and began scouting the area, the intelligence guild finally made contact. Though it was a negotiation where both sides had something to offer, Lucas couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

As a rule, the guild members went to great lengths to avoid being seen. If it hadn’t been for Capucci, they probably wouldn’t have agreed to a meeting at all.

Lucas pulled his robe over his head and made his way to the reception room. Perhaps due to the growing strength of the curse, it was difficult to walk with his back straight. He bit his lip to hide its pallor and forced strength into his legs.

When he arrived, a man in a black cloak was already seated at the far end of the room, wearing a mask and sipping tea. Lucas was a little startled but kept a composed expression as he approached and took a seat at a cautious distance. The masked man set down his teacup and bowed respectfully.

“As someone from the Kingdom of Rion, please forgive the discourtesy of wearing a mask before Your Grace, the Grand Duke.”

Lucas’s tense shoulders loosened slightly. He hadn’t even known the man was from Rion. That knowledge alone was enough to ease some of his tension.

“Thank you for coming all this way.”

“We’re the ones who are grateful for the favor Your Grace has shown us. I’ll get straight to the point, so as not to take up too much of your time.”

The man pulled a bundle of parchment—wrapped in multiple layers—from within his cloak and set it on the table. Lucas suppressed the urge to open it immediately and instead offered a polite smile.

“If there’s something you want in return, name it. I’ll make sure to compensate you accordingly.”

“We’re aware that Your Grace has looked the other way regarding our border crossings. That much consideration is more than enough.”

With a brief nod, the man rose from his seat.

“Then I’ll take my leave. Should you require further information, please contact us through Capucci.”

The man exited swiftly. His concise and composed demeanor inspired confidence. As soon as he was gone, Lucas unfolded the parchment on the table.

And at that moment, he confirmed it—his suspicions had been correct.

Lucas shut himself in his room, reading the same lines over and over—words he had long since memorized.

The rumor that Draco worshipped demons was untrue. The entity they revered as a god was a black dragon.

Draco was not a group that moved solely for money. If they had aligned themselves with Kiltan for some deeper purpose, then even if the Emperor sought to protect Leon, there would be limits to what he could do.

To think Draco was associated with a creature as legendary as a dragon—

A chill ran down his spine. He was genuinely terrified that they might harm Leon, even slightly. Pressing down on his trembling hand with the other, Lucas took a sip of tea. But not even the scalding liquid could soothe the fear clenching at his heart.

Perhaps what he feared most wasn’t the threat of Draco, connected as they were to the black dragon—but the fact that, in the face of such danger, he was utterly powerless to protect Leon.

Is this what it feels like for a parent, sending their child to war and doing nothing but wait?

His mind turned blank, as if wiped clean. Desperate to ease his anxiety, Lucas left the room and took up his sword. No matter how many times he struck the frozen trunk of an icewood tree with its vivid blue blade, the unease refused to fade.

“Lucas, Luucas…! Please teach me swordsmanship too! I want to be as cool as you when I wield a sword!”

He felt as if small footprints zigzagged across the freshly fallen snow. Leon had always walked that way whenever something excited him, his crooked steps bringing smiles to those who watched. His skin, white as snow, and his brilliant golden eyes—when they turned to Lucas, it was as though all the worries in the world melted away.

But now, only Lucas’s own footprints dotted the snow-covered ground.

This longing will end soon enough.

He shouldn’t have shaken Leon’s heart so needlessly. He could never forgive himself if even the smallest stain marred Leon’s path, which should be filled with joy and hope.

So he mustn’t long for him anymore.

Lucas’s resolve scattered in the wind, like Leon’s footprints once had.

Even after night fell and the sun had long disappeared, Lucas couldn’t sleep. And when he finally did, he dreamed.

In the dream, Leon lay in his arms, coughing up blood. With each ragged breath came more dark, thick blood, endlessly flowing. Lucas couldn’t even wipe his lips—he could only hold him close, sobbing into his shoulder.

“…Harlos, I will never forget you…”

I won’t forget you.

Leon barely managed to finish the sentence.

But—Harlos?

Only then did Lucas glance at his reflection in the snow. It was Leon in his arms, without a doubt, but the one holding him was not Lucas. Yet he could feel every sensation, every emotion, as if they were his own.

Even knowing this was a dream, he couldn’t just stand by and watch Leon die before his eyes. Clutching Leon tightly, Lucas pleaded like a prayer.

“Leon, wake up. You’re not someone who would die from this. So wake up!”

But Leon only coughed up more blood. Lucas tried to staunch the wound, to stop the bleeding, but Leon’s face grew ever paler. After a while, when the blood stopped for just a moment, Leon used his last ounce of strength to speak.

“In the next life… and the one after that… if only we could meet…”

“Le—Leon! Leon!”

At the same moment Leon’s arm dropped lifelessly, Lucas cried his name, his voice breaking into a scream. He couldn’t bring himself to let go. Even as he shook Leon’s shoulder in desperation, his breath had long since ceased.

“This is your last chance.”

A voice, not of this world, echoed in his ears. Lucas froze, barely daring to breathe.

“There is no next time.”

Did that mean Leon could never return?

Panic took hold. Lucas shook Leon harder, calling his name with greater urgency.

“Wake up! You must wake up, Leon!”

With that cry, Lucas jolted awake from the dreadful nightmare. His body was drenched in sweat, soaked through as though he’d been dragged from a storm.

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