[TVL] 24 – King of Serrat

// there’s a ton of metaphors here, so lots of TL notes-

Arc 3

Dark heavy clouds hung down from the sky. Even though it was still daytime, the sky was reminiscent of twilight. The stillness in which even the sound of a burning candle wick could permeate, was gradually broken by the pattering of rain. Luciano sat on a chaise, his fingers slid over paper and inked words, as he turned over pages in a detached room in Marquis Matos’ residence. It was a book on Armenian customs. As his eyes glossed over the writing, the contents of the book affirmed what he already had known in his homeland, Serrat. The country’s influence over the world was indeed worthy of its reputation.

*目を通すにつれ、故国セルラトでも当たり前のように踏襲してきた内容だとわかり、この国が世界の大半を支配していたのは伊達ではないと知らされた。

In the original text the first phrase refers to his understanding of how the contents of the books reflected his knowledge – as a matter of fact, and what he’d been ‘observing’ or ‘following’ in Serrat, regarding Armenian customs & mannerisms. The second phrase refers to him learning that Armenia’s power exerted over the majority of the world, wasn’t mere appearance’s sake/just for show, but they were actually a country whose power far superseded most other countries in the world and were worthy of the title of ‘Great Millennium Empire’ or it’s esteemed reputation.

Luciano closed the book, leaned back, and rubbed his eyelids. After the country was destroyed, he lived a devastating life. It was an unexpected succession. Still, he overtook the other person each time and did things the way he wanted. However, marriage, was a first attempt. Albeit an instantaneous judgement. As he pondered about it, a sudden interruption came.

“Luciano, what is this about marriage! What a joke! I won’t forgive you!” Flavia slammed the door open, and screamed at him, shaking her red hair. His gaze turned frosty, “shut the f*ck up”.

Even so, Flavia was not frightened. “I’m your fiancée... only I will be the one to marry you!”

“What a loud mouth. * You make me want to puke.”

* Luciano said諄い女だwhich means verbose woman.

“You shouldn’t have gone to kill that little girl. But marriage? Why?!” Before the crazed woman with bloodshot eyes could rush to Luciano, he rang a bell on his desk. Conrad appeared, heeding his master’s call. At the same time, Luciano knocked down the woman who hugged him.

“Discard this pig.”

“Luciano! I haven’t finished talking yet! Horrible!” Flavia was forcibly dragged out by Conrad, but after Frian and Leandro appeared at the door, she shut her mouth tightly, like a shellfish. Unlike before, she straightened up. Because they were children of the aristocrats who were the political opponents of Flavia’s family in Serrat.

Suddenly, Leandro mocked her scornfully. “This is Miss Flavia, of the Duke of Vente. No, she is Marchioness Matos here. Your voice echoed loudly, you know? I don’t particularly find loud voices admirable. Cause it can be overheard. *”

*筒抜けloud voices spill secrets that are overheard

“It doesn’t matter who listens. There is no one here who can understand the language of Serrat.”

“Is that so? By the way, why are you here even though the prince forbade you to approach him.”

Flavia glared at Leandro and snorted. “This is my house. I have the right to go anywhere.”

“Right? I don’t think that exists. But what’s that appearance? The fabric is transparent, and your black nipples are visible. Your genitals are exposed. I’m surprised. Are you an oestrous dog in heat, trying to seduce the prince without fatigue every day? Conrad, take her to Amancio.”

“No! Who’s going! He’s a horrifying beast! I will break!” Flavia cried, half in desperation, half in disgust.

As they were exchanging vulgarities, Frian entered the room and closed the door, looking at Leandro. He approached Luciano and picked up the book that had fallen at his feet, politely replacing it on his desk.

“A book on Armenian mannerisms.” Luciano nodded at Frian. “You came here to give me your opinion.” Luciano raised his chin, gesturing to him to continue.

“Luciano, this once, you cannot accept it. It is dangerous to become a prince consort. Frian seemed to notice a wound on Luciano’s thumb, and his eyes widened in astonishment.

“Isn’t that wound the mark of a blood oath? What did you vow with the Queen?”

The blood oath was signed, with the intention to strictly keep it at the risk of one’s life.

“What’s the meaning of this? You can’t have forgotten how cruel Armenia is. Why did you make an oath? You know it yourself, why are you currying favour? *

*懐に入るliterally, to get into someone’s pocket. It also means to butter up to gain someone’s trust

Luciano brushed his long hair loosely. “Shut up.”

“You don’t think I’ve calculated this? Fu, to use Armenia. Let them crus Teges. It makes sense to kill the Queen after she’s fulfilled her purposed. If you understand, withdraw.”

“Sure, it is rational to let Armenia crush Teges, but…”

Luciano laughed at Frian, who continued to stand their idly. “Idiot. Open your eyes. * You can’t win if you don’t give a country to another country. **

*to come to know reality

** literally assigning one country as another’s assignment (to destroy)

“Luciano, please don’t be reckless. Take care of your life,” Frian said, his face somewhat in agony and bitterness.

“Can you look at me for a moment?”

“You are our hope. I want you to make me a promise. After burying Queen Alana, you will rise as the King of Serrat. Our long-cherished wish is the resurrection of the Kingdom of Serrat.”

Luciano flipped his silver eyelashes, and his violet eyes flashed. “I should have forbidden talk about that kind of thing until I fulfilled my purpose.” He waved his hand in toward the sky, signalling to Frian to disappear. Frian bowed and left. Once he confirmed the door was closed, Luciano let out a loud breath.

─King of Serrat? Impossible.

Even if he was a prince, he was too dirty to follow in his father’s footsteps.