Levin Oneson Sifah, historically the brother in name of Princess Griffine.
Compared to his illustrious reputation before the civil war in Erune, after the war, the name of this Crown Prince seemed to have vanished. Some said he died amidst chaos, others claimed he was a puppet of Duke Xifah and the Queen, and some even said the Princess had spared him, allowing him to retreat into the mountains. Yet, as with all the romanticized folk tales overshadowing historical truths, the real story often feels expected and surprising at once.
After Wood’s introduction, Brand and Her Royal Highness the Princess waited in the front courtyard for about a quarter of an hour; no one spoke, save for the sound of Lord Priest clipping the leaves. No one could fathom what the Great Priest of Ambeser was thinking, bringing someone as sensitive as the Crown Prince into the public eye seemed anything but wise.
The Princess might not wish to see this brother of hers, and as someone who was their enemy not long ago, did he truly intend to help them? Though possible, surely there would be some conditions attached.
Brand couldn’t guarantee that Her Royal Highness was willing to compromise with her enemy. But after a moment, he heard a soft footstep from behind the hedge trimmed holly wall, and everyone turned their heads to see a maid leading a noble youth around the leafy wall appear in front of him and the Princess.
Even though he had never seen him before, Brand immediately realized that this might well be the historical Prince. His attire was not luxurious: a plain military uniform, pale purple, with a long cloak trailing onto the lush green meadow, blending into the afternoon sun, looking more like a knight of some means from Brags, Magitan, or Kulke Castle, not an imperious crown prince.
The young man wore a sword at his waist, but it was not one of those ornamental varieties. It was a genuine cavalry sword, with the leather on the hilt so worn it seemed hardly fitting for a royal. But from this, one could not simply deduce that the sword’s owner was a master of swordsmanship, as the composed face bore eyes shut tight, long eyelashes lying gently as though asleep—or blind.
His Royal Highness the Prince was very handsome, even charismatic, but he was blind. A blind person clearly could not practice swordsmanship, and it was difficult to imagine being involved in a series of complex intrigues, let alone becoming the King of Erune.
Brand couldn’t help casting a glance at Her Royal Highness beside him, her expression also one of surprise. A trace of hesitation flickered in her eyes, but she spoke, "...Levin brother, your eyes?"
Her tone was somewhat hesitant and astonished.
"Some minor things happened, no need to worry, Griffine," Prince Levin seemed unconcerned, smiling faintly: "But rather, it’s after losing my sight that I can see much broader, people are often deceived by everything they see."
He continued, "Griffine, it’s been nearly ten years since our last meeting at Winter Castle. By now you must be seventeen, surely you’ve grown taller and become even more beautiful. I’ve frequently heard people talk about you recently."
His tone was quite casual, as if chatting with his sister—and not his enemy. Though in a sense, his awkward status today was directly caused by this sister of his.
Princess Griffine was silent for a moment before speaking, "That’s in the past, brother, this time you did many wrong things. The Kingdom, Father, the people, none will forgive you, and everything will eventually be set straight."
"I won’t shirk responsibility, but as a son, I have to support Mother. Even if now she has failed, Duke Xifah died in defeat, and I’ve become a prisoner. Griffine, you must think I harbor resentment, but actually it’s not so. I’m here today not for forgiveness, I hope you understand that. No matter how the situation changes, I am still a member of the Erune Royal Family," Levin said, lowering his eyelids with a smile.
"Then you mean..." Princess Griffine was slightly startled, glancing somewhat confusedly at Brand beside her.