How to Raise a Dumb Wolf - Chapter 87

“Are you… all right?”

When neither human girl spoke, Brandon frowned and asked.

Aisha paused, uncertain how to answer. Elizabeth’s entire body went rigid, and her wrist began trembling involuntarily.

A year and a half had passed, but neither Aisha nor Elizabeth could forget Dimska: the dark, oppressive room lined with cages, the girls’ desperate cries and screams, the terrible tension and fear.

In Wold, Aisha could set aside her hostility toward ordinary darkfolk who had no desire for war. But she could not easily lower her guard before Prince Brandon.

She had seen him in the palace at Dimska with her own eyes. He ordered soldiers to take every blond girl out, then inspected their wrists one by one.

He had been searching for Elizabeth. The darkfolk soldiers never explained why, but it was easy to guess that he wanted the princess of Ryan as leverage against the human army.

Brandon had already met Elizabeth in Wold several years earlier. Not only that, he had broken her wrist and placed a spell within it that sealed her power.

Every act was a horrifying atrocity.

And yet the postwar tribunal found that Prince Brandon opposed the war and belonged to the peace faction. Many members of the darkfolk peace faction testified that he had protested fiercely when Prince Gilbert and Prince Maxi proposed the bride-raiding policy.

Several abducted blond women testified that Prince Brandon behaved rudely and aggressively toward them within the palace. But since he did nothing beyond examining their wrists, the tribunal did not convict him as a war criminal.

After Duke split apart, he remained the first heir to South Duke’s throne under Queen Shali Grey. The blond girls frightened by his actions were furious.

In truth, Prince Brandon was not the only source of criticism surrounding the tribunal. Prince Gilbert and Prince Maxi, both explicitly named as war criminals, escaped punishment by declaring independence. Yet the Helman Federation and the Empire of Beast had just ended a war and achieved peace. Neither wished—and neither possessed the military or financial strength—to destroy the people’s hard-won hope by starting another conflict. They did not declare war on the new nations of East Duke and West Duke.

Everyone knew, however, that compared with the wavering, indecisive Queen Shali Grey, the two warmongering princes were the true danger. East and West Duke rested silently in the north of the Ring Continent like hidden bombs, as irritating as black ink spilled across white paper.

Brandon’s release was also connected to his status as prince of South Duke and Shali Grey’s only son. He would inherit the only one of the three Duke kingdoms inclined toward peace. Ministers of the peace faction did not wish to lose him and fought to protect him during the tribunal.

They insisted that Brandon, a consistently mild prince opposed to the ugly custom of bride raiding, must have had some reason for seizing blond girls.

Aisha did not know whether there had been a misunderstanding in Dimska. But she could imagine no misunderstanding that explained breaking Elizabeth’s wrist during an examination. Nor could she understand how anyone described such a man as “mild.”

Compared with Aisha’s shock, Elizabeth’s reaction approached terror. When she realized she had fallen directly into Brandon’s arms, her eyes widened and her body froze.

She remained rigid for several seconds. Then she recovered and struggled to escape.

To catch her, Brandon had used both an arm and a wing. A darkfolk man’s wings were broad and strong; fully lowered, they could wrap two embracing people like an eggshell. With the strength in her wrist sealed, Elizabeth struggled to free herself.

Panic made her cry out, “L-let go of me!”

Brandon visibly froze. He seemed unable to understand why an attempt to help had frightened her. After a brief pause, he lifted his wing, opened his arm, and released Elizabeth.

The instant she was free, Elizabeth hurried over and clutched Aisha’s arm. Aisha felt the arm wrapped around hers trembling with fear.

She quickly patted Elizabeth in comfort. Both lowered their heads, afraid to let Brandon see their faces, and hurried away.

They had come out alone, while Brandon had not. Two or three powerful darkfolk accompanied him, along with an elderly darkfolk man whose age was impossible to guess. His hair, beard, and eyebrows had all turned white. His back was bent, but he remained unexpectedly vigorous.

Even without the old man, the girls were in no position to invite conflict.

Perhaps it was Aisha’s imagination, but as she supported Elizabeth past them with her head lowered, she thought Brandon’s gaze lingered briefly upon them before moving away. She dared not turn around to confirm it and merely quickened her pace.

Once the two human girls had disappeared, Brandon paused. He raised the hand that had accidentally touched the girl’s arm while she struggled and stared at his palm with a thoughtful frown.

“…Your Highness.”

The elderly darkfolk man saw Brandon’s expression and stepped forward.

“Have you remembered… that incident again?”

Brandon seemed to flinch. He instinctively lowered his hand.

“…No. Let’s continue.”

The elderly darkfolk did not stop. He followed Brandon slowly and spoke with regret.

“That girl back then… If you were so worried about her, why didn’t you explain everything clearly? In her condition, if you had not sealed her wrist, it would not have been long before she… Ah, I admit I was astonished too. I never imagined another person in this world could share your condition.”

Brandon remained silent.

“Your Highness, forgive me for speaking plainly, but your temperament makes it very easy for others to misunderstand you. If you had only explained a little at the time—”

Brandon’s stride faltered, though he quickly recovered his original pace.

“…There was no need,” he said.