The prince occasionally stood alone on the deck, taking in the scenery or even talking to himself. This was no secret.
Ever since reaching an agreement with Theus, the prince had practically rushed aboard the ironclad bound for Castel.
The reconstruction and reorganization of Blood Port had barely begun. The disaster victims needed reassurance, the extent of the damage needed to be assessed—by all rights, the prince should not have left his territory at such a time. Yet he had done exactly that.
After giving a few brief instructions, the prince dumped the work onto Galahad and the bureaucrats he had personally promoted, then boarded the ironclad without even bringing attendants.
Theus could not tell whether that was courage or recklessness. If he had harbored even the slightest ill intent toward the Grand Duke of Tis, he could have had him die inexplicably in Castel without leaving behind any evidence.
Later, Theus thought that perhaps his refusal to swallow up Blood Port had somehow earned the prince's trust. Who knew what that man, who always acted so unexpectedly, was thinking?
The Faithguard Army soldiers aboard deliberately kept their distance from the prince. After all, this was Castel's ship; getting too close could easily be mistaken for surveillance.
Yet the prince was always the one taking the initiative to approach the Faithguard Army. Whenever he had the chance, he chatted with them, and occasionally even borrowed the Holy Scripture to read.
He never touched on sensitive subjects and never asked about weapons or equipment. He was merely deeply interested in Castel's system.
Theus had not adopted the Empire's civil service system on the island. The thirteen-rank civil service system was exceptionally advanced for this era, giving talented people from the lower classes a path upward.
But it was not advanced enough,