The Youngest Prince Of The English Royalty House [EN]: Chapter 162

162. New Sunlight

-1203, Duchy of Aquitaine-

‘The Three Musketeers,’ which had become a sensation among the ‘Angevins’ [people of Anjou] in Rouen, first arrived in Aquitaine as a novel.

Already famous throughout Europe, the novel quickly captivated readers. Its affordability and the use of Angevin [a dialect of French], made it accessible to everyone.

After gaining a wide readership for ‘The Three Musketeers,’ a stage play adaptation began touring John’s territory of Aquitaine.

A famous line, emblematic of Anjou’s new ‘system,’ resonated deeply:

(One for all, all for one)

The actors began incorporating impromptu lines to engage with the audience.

“Are you Angevins who serve the rightful King Richard I?”

“Yes!”

“Then all Angevins must unite and be loyal to the King!”

“That’s right!”

“Long live England!”

François’s inspired performance as D’Artagnan drew enthusiastic cheers.

The majority of supporters were, naturally, from West France.

These were Angevins who bore French names, like the characters in ‘The Three Musketeers.’

The astute nobles of Aquitaine immediately grasped the political message embedded within ‘The Three Musketeers.’

It was a declaration that West France was, and would forever be, English territory, and that its people, as Angevins, owed their allegiance to England.

An elderly man, watching François’s masterful performance from a prime seat, mused, ‘Even though he’s a bastard, the blood of the Capetian dynasty… reduced to propaganda acting. Why did Philippe create a bastard only to suffer like this…’

This sentiment seemed ironic coming from Henry, who had fathered numerous illegitimate children himself. Regardless, Duke Henry of Brittany felt a pang of sympathy for Philip II, who was being manipulated in so many ways.

The Duke of Brittany, sighing inwardly, turned to his grandson.

“James, did you enjoy it?”

“Yes, Grandfather. It was wonderful.”

James had never imagined that his father, who had relinquished power to him and relocated to Rouen, would create such a masterpiece.

Of course, the unscrupulous Safe John felt no remorse, since Alexandre Dumas wouldn’t exist in this timeline anyway.

“Observe carefully. This is the comedy of the new era, crafted by your father John. Perhaps ‘Anjou’ would be a more fitting title than ‘The Three Musketeers.’ In any case, I need you to accompany me somewhere.”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

After the performance concluded, the Duke of Brittany led his grandson to a secluded location.

It was a picturesque lake.

“Your late father called this the Lake of Beginning.”

“Lake of Beginning?”

“This place holds profound significance for me. I didn’t bring your father or uncle here, but I’ve brought you, James, because you harbor dreams of an empire.”

“Thank you, Grandfather.”

He was deeply touched that his grandfather had chosen to share this place with him, recognizing his ambition.

“My father… the late Count of Anjou, gazing at this lake, once said that our Anjou family should look to this lake and dream of the sea. You, too, must dream of the sea.”

“The sea?”

“James, the lesson is now over.”

“Yes?”

“In truth… my instruction is complete. I’ve prolonged it only to assess your potential.”

“Is it truly over? I still have much to learn.”

At that moment, Henry recognized his grandson James’s sharp intellect.

“That’s commendable; learning is a lifelong pursuit. But what you can learn from me has reached its end.”

“Hahaha, the moment has finally arrived. It’s been so difficult all this time!”

Henry thought to himself.

Just moments ago, he had been filled with regret, but now, this child was the only legitimate grandson making excuses.

Arthur, of course, resided in the Kingdom of Jerusalem, but he had long been considered a disqualified member of a collateral line.

Duke Henry of Brittany, well-versed in the ruthlessness of power, believed that severing ties with the Kingdom of Jerusalem was the best way to protect Geoffrey.

He hadn’t exchanged a single letter with his grandson Arthur. He had experienced conflicting emotions throughout the process, but at this moment, he felt no such anxieties.

Duke Henry of Brittany,

The aging ruler of England, wore a relieved expression.

‘The history of England will continue safely through James.’

He felt confident that England would remain peaceful at least through the reigns of Richard, John, and James. And he thought of his granddaughter Adelaide, who was expecting a great-grandchild.

‘I must see my great-grandchild’s face before I die.’

His grandson and granddaughter had married and were now expecting a great-grandchild.

Henry resolved to live until he knew the child’s gender.

After parting with his grandson, Henry said,

“Summon the Duchess.”

He called for his wife.

* * *

Born in 1133, Duke Henry of Brittany was 71 years old this year, a remarkable age for medieval Europe.

In the original timeline, he was betrayed by King John and met a miserable end in Chinon in 1189, but thanks to the reincarnated Safe John, he was now preoccupied with the prospect of seeing his great-grandchildren.

He possessed gold, but no longer wielded power.

He had seemingly entrusted everything to his youngest son, John, relinquishing all authority.

Henry himself was surprised by his decision, but he had been able to let go because he trusted his youngest son, whom he had observed for so long.

Prince John was ruthless to his enemies, but he remained loyal to those on his side. Perhaps he had planned to spend his remaining years in Aquitaine?

‘Maybe it’s fortunate that I gave up in time?’

Henry mused.

Having relinquished all power and living past seventy, he felt a sense of ease. It must be due to the absence of pressure.

He was an old man who felt no shame before God.

In truth, his family had suffered because of his relentless pursuit of England’s wealth and power.

The Great Rebellion, in which all his sons except John and his wife rebelled, and the Lionhearts’ Fight, where his sons battled for the crown prince position, were testaments to this.

Of course, it was hypocritical for Henry, who could be said to have caused his family’s pain, to think this way, but Henry felt no shame before God.

Eleanor, disliking her husband’s sentimental mood, said,

“Why are you making that face, Henry?”

“You speak too casually now.”

“You… you’re no longer the king.”

“Yes, I’m no longer the king.”

Henry smiled, his face crinkling with wrinkles at his wife’s informal address. She was right. He was no longer the king. And there was an even more important fact.

“Well, Ellie, you’re older than me, so I should respect you.”

“What?”

The title of Henry II had vanished into history the moment he removed his crown and passed it to his son Richard I. It didn’t matter if his older wife addressed him informally.

Above all, wasn’t there a valid reason?

Henry and Eleanor, a couple with a significant age gap, a rarity in Europe.

His wife, Eleanor, was 11 years his senior.

“You senile old man!”

-Slap.

He was struck on the back for his remark. But even with the sting, Henry continued.

“Ellie, my love, my enemy, my glorious history. I am old now, and I don’t know when I will die. But it is a happy thing to spend my remaining years taking a walk in the park with you like this.”

“Tsk, insincere words. You simply compromised because you couldn’t handle Richard and John.”

“You could see it that way…”

Henry looked at his wife Eleanor, his voice trailing off.

His wife, who had believed she would retain her youth forever, could not escape the passage of time.

The world’s most beautiful woman, more beautiful than Helen of Greek myth, was now an old woman with white hair and wrinkles.

Of course, she looked younger than most people in their 80s. His wife also knew that she could not escape God’s will and would return to the earth.

So.

He wanted to let go of his regrets now.

“Ellie, we don’t have much time left… Let’s not fight until the end. How much have we tormented our children’s hearts?”

“But I still haven’t forgiven you, Henry.”

“Seeing that you meet me every day, I think you’ve already forgiven me?”

At Henry’s sly response, Eleanor smiled wryly and replied,

“I’ll decide after seeing our great-grandchild. Well.”

“Now that my great-grandchild is born, I have to give all my remaining property to Richard.”

“Henry, were you still hiding something?”

“You still have something you haven’t given to Mary, right?”

They were very petty people.

* * *

-1204, England, Rouen-

“Hope has dawned for the royal family! Therefore, I shall open the warehouse and host a grand banquet!”

A banquet was held to celebrate the joyous news that my and my brother’s ‘grandchild’ had been conceived.

A court banquet for the nobles and a street banquet for the commoners.

Of course, hosting both banquets required a significant expenditure, but nothing was too much when a new life, the future of the royal family, was about to be born.

Time passed.

I was actively cultivating my close aides and the noble factions that supported me, building a power base in Rouen.

Today, Richard and I were attending a small hunt, with only a few others present.

The moment the musketeers finished reloading,

“Release the bird!”

“Yes!”

The pigeon in the iron cage was released into the sky.

-Bang.

It fell from the sky in a single shot.

As the smoke from the trigger dissipated,

Richard looked at me with satisfaction and said,

“To be able to hunt so easily. It’s an excellent weapon. John, I owe this kind of hunting to you.”

“You flatter me, Your Majesty.”

‘Pigeon hunting.’

It was a game that would become popular in the French royal family in the distant future. Of course, unlike those later guns, the current hunting gun was still in a primitive form.

After capturing a few more turtledoves in our cage, the hunt concluded.

I instructed the musketeers,

“The hunt is over. Clean up the area.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The hunt was over.

“Tonight’s dinner will be pigeon dish and wine.”

Dinner arrived.

The dish, prepared with freshly caught meat from the hunting grounds in the still-bright afternoon, was delicious.

I preferred wine to meat, so I sipped it frequently.

As I became pleasantly drunk,

Richard addressed his vassals,

“I wish to speak privately with the Duke of Normandy. Please excuse us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Richard, having dismissed those around him, looked at me intently and said,

“John, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“Yes, Brother. Please tell me.”

Since the news of our grandchild’s conception, Richard had suggested that we speak informally in private, so I no longer needed to use formal language.

“I sense that you’ve been holding back lately.”

What did he mean by holding back? He must be referring to the reforms. Recently, I had been cultivating my own people in Rouen, as I couldn’t rely solely on my existing support base forever.

My own people, those who weren’t my people but cooperated with me, those who would at least remain neutral, and those who were clearly enemies but would stay within certain boundaries.

I was still vigorously pursuing defense reforms, but rapid political reforms could easily lead to my downfall.

‘Above all, there are many dangerous individuals in Rouen.’

Even with the support of the Count of Champagne, who was related to me by blood, the emerging nobles, like the young Duke of Oxford (son of the Earl of Oxford), posed a challenge.

The nobles from prestigious families were qualitatively different from the young men who were easily swayed by their emotions.

They were refined and reserved.

The truly formidable power players were those who concealed their strength and intentions until a ‘decisive’ moment. They also held firm beliefs.

“I’m supporting you now, my brother, but reform is a very difficult undertaking. It disrupts the existing order, making it a lonely path with many enemies, doesn’t it?”

Richard looked at me with concern. Perhaps, in his view, it seemed foolish for me, with my power as heir to the throne, to pursue reforms while facing opposition.

“Brother, don’t worry. Am I not the brother who survived even in that harsh Egypt?”

“I know that politicians with invisible knives are more dangerous than enemies with visible blades.”

I smiled and said to Richard, who cautioned me about the treachery of the political world,

“Brother, my son dreams of an empire. A father would do anything for his son’s grand ambition.”

“Isn’t that your dream?”

No way. The concept of an Empire is too much for a reincarnator to handle. I am just an ordinary person. I am only thinking of neutralizing France or completely subjugating it before I die.

“Your Majesty!”

A nobleman rushed in urgently.

“The Countess of Poitiers has given birth to a male royal grandson!”

He delivered the joyous news that a grandson had been born to Richard and me.