Chapter Seventy-Six: A Gift for His Highness Prince Charlie

November 20, 2237, 19:07, Club

“Haha! As expected of you, elder brother. No matter what game it is, we can never beat you, can we?” After an entire day spent together, the three brothers sat around a table, chatting about the trivialities of their day’s amusements.

“Who am I? I am Trecy, Crown Prince of the Empire. Honestly, you two are so weak—it must be from spending too much time in the palace, right? Take a page from my book: get out more, play, exercise!” Trecy was, after all, Trecy. He had been through war and had nearly lost his life to terrorists; a man who had weathered countless storms. He was, in almost every sense, unbeatable.

“Um… Elder brother, that bottle you’re holding…” Charlie stared at the wine in Trecy’s hand, its appearance strikingly familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it.

“MARTINI Company’s Ruino 2237, the latest release. I heard you’re quite fond of fine wine, aren’t you? Have you heard of it?” Trecy replied calmly, uttering a name that left Charlie utterly astonished.

“Ruino 2237? Isn’t that not out yet? How did you get your hands on it?” Charlie was dumbfounded. This wine was not due for public auction until the end of the month, yet the bottle in Trecy’s hand clearly bore the “Ruino 2237” label.

“I’m a little acquainted with the owner, that’s all. This bottle was a private gift. After all, with so many identities at my disposal, having a few useful connections doesn’t hurt.” Trecy poured a glass for Quill, then another for Charlie. “Strictly speaking, it should be left to breathe, but I hear you like tasting wine straight from a newly opened bottle. Quill, brother, join us!” Raising his glass high, Trecy prompted the others to do the same. “Cheers!” The three downed their drinks in unison.

“By the way, Charlie, I don’t think I’ve ever given you a present, have I? No matter, let me make up for all the years at once. All the wine in my cellar—you may have as much as you like. But there’s one condition…” After the toast, Trecy brought up the matter, producing a key that was clearly meant for the wine cellar.

“What’s the condition? Tell me.”

“Promise me this: never become the King of the United Kingdom. Even if our father passes the crown to you, you must refuse.”

Never accept… Such a condition…

“Wait, elder brother! What do you mean by this? Are you saying… is there some place you’ll die, somewhere you cannot inherit the throne?” Prince Quill seemed to understand. Denying Charlie the crown meant that only he could inherit it, which suggested that Trecy had already foreseen the possibility of his own death.

“Perhaps. Charlie, can you promise me?” Trecy stood, unable to remain seated. “This would greatly benefit Quill, and it would also prevent any quarrel between you two over the throne. Do you agree?” Trecy’s tone turned grave, and for a fleeting moment, Quill and Charlie thought they saw something on his head.

“A crown? Elder brother, is that… is that the crown prince’s diadem?” Seeing the sudden appearance of a crown atop Trecy’s head, Quill and Charlie could not contain their emotions.

“I’ll ask you again, Charlie. Do you promise? I ask as Crown Prince.”

“I promise. I never intended to become King of the United Kingdom in the first place.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It’s getting late—let’s head back. Otherwise, the ministers will start to worry…”

—— Author’s Note ——

I’m heading home tonight, so here’s a new chapter…