I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince - Chapter 71

Half-asleep, Lucas heard someone calling him,  “Lucas, Lucas…”, several times.

Ah, another nightmare. Lucas tried to ignore it, but the voice grew louder and louder.

Terrible nightmares would come without fail whenever he closed his eyes, tormenting his body and mind. If it hadn’t been for Leon’s voice calling him in reality, he might not have woken up.

Lucas opened his eyes and instinctively turned his head. Leon was asleep, tightly clutching Lucas’s hand. His radiant skin and golden hair were still as beautiful as ever. Lucas, as if bewitched, couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

It was because the image of Leon bleeding in his dreams still lingered vividly in his mind.

It should be fine to watch him just for a moment.

The warmth of Leon’s breath flowing between his slightly parted lips, the woody scent filling the room, and the soft flush of his cheeks—all of it made Lucas’s heart feel warm. Afraid to miss even a single detail, he widened his eyes and engraved the sight into his memory. Just then, Leon suddenly opened his eyes.

Embarrassed at being caught staring, Lucas quickly averted his gaze. But before he could pull away, Leon, just waking from sleep, suddenly embraced him tightly.

“…Your Highness.”

“Lucas, Lucas…”

It was the same desperate voice Leon had used when calling out to him while unconscious. Because of that, Lucas couldn’t bring himself to push Leon away. He had no choice but to let Leon hold him. The strength of Leon’s arms pressing against Lucas’s back only grew stronger.

“How could you let yourself get to that point?”

The sharp question made Lucas’s heart sink. He was terrified because he couldn’t even begin to guess how much Leon knew.

“I merely… lost consciousness for a moment. When under stress, I sometimes—”

“Don’t lie to me. It’s because of the curse, isn’t it?”

Leon lifted his head slightly and locked eyes with Lucas. His deeply sunken gaze didn’t waver for a moment, piercing straight through Lucas’s chest like an arrow.

“Lucas, it’s been five years. Five years I’ve spent missing you. Do you know how many times I went over your face in my mind during that time?”

“…”

“I can tell when you’re lying, or when you’re unwell. How do you think it feels for me to see you like this?”

Lucas couldn’t bring himself to say that in his dream, he had seen Leon coughing up blood in his arms, and that he had felt the same pain Leon described.

“…It’s nothing serious. It’s a curse I’ve lived with all my life. Just like how Your Highness transforms into a tiger—if you get used to it, it’s nothing…”

“You’ve gotten so much thinner. More than when I was by your side.”

Despite all his efforts—layering clothes to hide his frailty, trying to build up muscle—he couldn’t deceive Leon’s sharp eyes.

“I suppose… it’s because of training,” Lucas said, knowing full well that Leon wouldn’t believe such a flimsy excuse. Even Lucas found it ridiculous, and a small laugh escaped him. That he could laugh again, even a little, was astonishing in itself. Leon, too, smiled faintly at the sight.

“Still, seeing you smile eases my heart. But, Lucas…”

Leon pulled him even closer. Lucas tried to resist weakly, but lacking strength, he couldn’t break free from Leon’s firm arms. Giving up, he remained in Leon’s embrace, feeling the soft, low voice vibrate against the strong chest he leaned against.

“Just thinking about how much you must have suffered all this time—it feels like my heart is tearing apart.”

Leon gently stroked Lucas’s hair, just as Lucas had done for him when he was younger.

“You must have been so lonely and in so much pain.”

Lucas didn’t know why those words made his chest ache so badly. Maybe it was because the warmth of another person, felt after so long, was overwhelming. His body had weakened, and maybe his heart had, too. Thinking so, Lucas couldn’t bring himself to push Leon away as the embrace tightened around him.

“Lucas, I don’t care about the throne or any of that. You are what’s important to me.”

Lucas’s heart thudded violently. The rush of blood startled him. It had been so long since he had chewed on his loneliness alone—was that why even this made his heart race now?

“…Your Highness has many responsibilities to uphold and many possessions to protect. You must not be swayed by trivial things like this.”

Lucas had no choice but to deny his own feelings. But Leon continued to gently caress him as if he were a precious treasure.

“No matter what it takes, I will lift your curse. I even studied medicine for your sake. Just like you once saved me from the depths of my own curse—this time, it’s my turn to save you.”

Feeling his eyes start to burn, Lucas lowered his head on purpose. As he did, his forehead gently pressed against Leon’s chest.
Unlike his own heart, which was beating wildly, Leon’s heartbeat was steady and warm, calming Lucas without him even realizing it.

Had he unconsciously leaned into that comforting hand?
He couldn’t quite remember.

“Lucas, I’m sorry for leaving you alone. I should have stayed by your side, no matter what…”

Lucas had wanted to answer somehow.
He had meant to say it was fine, that just being here now felt like a dream, that Leon’s embrace was so warm he wished he could stay in it forever.
But before he could form the words, his eyes slowly closed, and his body, heavy like waterlogged cotton, went limp.

At that very moment, Vilter was making his way toward Draco, just as Duke Kiltan had advised.
Crossing the border alone had already drained him—the land was nothing but steep mountains and sharp rocks, and it took every ounce of strength he had just to reach the castle.

He longed to stop and rest, but the humiliating thought of living under Leon’s rule forever kept pushing his legs forward.

Suddenly, the knights walking with him blocked his way. It happened just as the upper towers of Draco Castle came into sight.

“From here, you must be blindfolded.”

Before the words had even finished, the knights grabbed Vilter’s arms and covered his eyes.
Following Draco’s rules, Vilter had already dismissed his personal guards at the border. His shoulders tensed with unease.

“Don’t be afraid. We’ll guide you safely.”

And so, with his vision completely cut off, he walked blindly.
Without being able to see, he couldn’t tell how far he had gone or how long he had been walking.

After a long while, he noticed the air around him change.
The space grew damp and cold, thick with moisture, reminding him of a dark underground cave.

Where… is this place?

According to Duke Kiltan, he was about to meet the true ruler of Draco—the one who worked behind the scenes.

The infamous dark sorcerer.
What kind of being was he, that he stayed hidden from the world?

Clank.
The sound of a heavy door opening brought him to a stop.
A moment later, the knights led Vilter through the doorway.

“The second prince of the Theian Empire, Vilter, must kneel and show respect.”

The voice that filled the space was heavy and commanding.
Even Vilter, who had survived countless hardships, felt a chill race down his spine.

Swallowing hard, Vilter bowed his head and knelt.

“I greet the sovereign of Draco.”

“There is no emperor in Draco. I am only a priest who serves the god.”

“…I greet the priest.”

For a brief moment, Vilter’s anger flared at the thought of bowing to a mere priest, but he bit it back and forced himself to speak the greeting.

As soon as he finished, someone removed the black cloth covering his eyes.
Blinking against the sudden light, his vision slowly cleared.

Vilter looked around, confused.
He had heard people speaking, but there was no one in sight.
Instead, right in front of him, stood an enormous dragon-shaped statue.

The so-called priest was nowhere to be seen.
Neither was the person who had taken off his blindfold.

While Vilter stood there, bewildered, the dragon statue began to tremble.
Even though it was made of stone, it felt as if it were moving closer.

Thud. Thud.
The deep sounds echoed through the space, but Vilter couldn’t tell whether they were coming from the statue—or from his own pounding heart.

Frozen in place, he stared ahead as thick, black smoke wrapped around the dragon.
The smoke grew larger, twisting and expanding, until it formed something so huge and distorted that he couldn’t make out its true shape.

Even without understanding it fully, Vilter instinctively knew:
That crimson figure was the master of this temple.
And the one who would grant him the power he needed.

Swallowing his fear, Vilter reminded himself why he had come.

To destroy Leon.
And to claim the position of Crown Prince for himself.

Struggling to keep his voice steady, Vilter spoke to the black figure.

“O god of Draco, please tell me how I can become the Crown Prince.”

—I will lend you my power.

So easily?
It almost felt too easy.

The fact that things were going so smoothly only made Vilter more anxious.
He forced himself to think clearly.
The being had said it would lend him power—but it hadn’t said how.

Even if he managed to defeat Leon, as long as Emperor Frederick still lived, it would simply be considered treason.

“I don’t understand. What kind of power are you offering me?”

—I cannot let those two be left alone any longer.
—I refuse to be dragged into the chaos caused by that wretch.

Whoooosh—
The black smoke twisted into a violent whirl, spiraling toward the ceiling like a furious dragon charging its prey.

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