Salvation of the Scum Fifth Prince

Sitting in the kitchen sprawled between two seats was a mop of white hair, poking out at the edge of the chairs. Brioc had sat in a similar fashion the other day and a particular prince decided it looked comfortable — and copied it.

"Aren't you being too relaxed for somebody who shouldn't be in this kingdom?" wondered Raphael as the sound of cutting filled the air. 

The smell of baked bread floated from the oven, mixed with herbs and spices. There were other scents mingling with them, all fresh and delicious. 

"Atlas said he'd handle it." replied Soren lazily, nibbling on a candy without a care. There was more than one kitchen in the castle, and this was one of the minor ones hidden in the corner of the castle.

Atlas had said it was built at random, but not frequently used. The maids often practiced their cooking in this kitchen, when anything less than perfection wasn't allowed in the royal kitchen. 

However, Atlas had dismissed the maids in the area, so Soren cared little.

Though it was unlikely that he'd behave cautiously even if the maids walked in at that very moment.

Alvara popped her head around the wooden door cautiously and smiled. "Hi?"

Raphael looked up. "Hey, what's up?"

"No, I was looking for something to do. Need any help?"

As she asked that, a loud voice added from behind her, "Oh~ me too! I've been told I'm great at cooking."

"By who?" asked Alvara suspiciously.

"Myself, of course~"

"....."

"If I may, I'm also available to help if needed." said Vendra elegantly as she strolled inside, tumbles of ocean hair tied back in a ponytail. 

Raphael chuckled, moving his cutting board over slightly to the side. "Sure. The more hands, the better. And you, little prince? Will you be joining us?"

Soren paused, not expecting to be called out. His gaze lingered, trailing slowly between each person and at the strange atmosphere which hung heavily in the air. 

Odd, but not unpleasant. 

"...no."

"What? Don't tell me, you don't know how to cook? Truly a spoiled prince, aren't you?" said Raphael lightly, raising his brow in challenge.

Soren frowned, squinting at him. "I know how to."

"Then why won't you?"

"Why would I cook, if you're already doing it for me?"

"....."

Raphael really couldn't refute that.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Really. What was the point of this? He'd never understand. 

Ignoring the lazy sloth on the side, he looked at Alvara, who was peering into the small oven curiously. 

"Woah, it's rising!" exclaimed the girl who had never seen such a thing before. 

Brioc laughed, hands shoved in his pocket as he walked over. "That's all it takes to make you excited?"

"Isn't it like magic, though?"

Soren's ears seemed to perk up a little. Honestly, he'd never seen bread rising before, much less an oven. For the life he remembered, he always found scraps of food here and there. 

The apocalypse took most of his memory, with childhood memories being almost non-existent. And during the apocalypse, the luxury of food was something that few received. 

The prince tilted his head slightly, but he couldn't see the oven from where he laid. 

To get up or not get up, that was the question.

However, before he could resign himself to his own laziness, Raphael walked over. The man had placed the knife down at some point, trading places with Vendra who kept the steady rhythm of chopping going. 

Soren looked up expressionlessly. "What?"

Raphael stared at the impassive prince and shook his head. For some reason, he couldn't leave this person alone. "Stand up."

"No."

"Just get up."

"No."

"You want to see it, don't you? It'll stop soon if you don't stand up now." said Raphael with another heavy sigh.

Seeing Soren's absolute stubbornness that was annoying, if anything, Raphael lowered his hands. In a struggle, he lifted Soren up. Into the air. Wrapping his hands around Soren’s waist. Tightly.

Soren felt his brain go numb.

"What..." said Soren in a dangerous tone, pushing at the hands that had forced him into standing. "...are you doing?"

"You're radiating energy that says you're curious. I'm helping you out."

"I don't need your help."

"But you want it."

Soren narrowed his icy eyes, and Raphael felt as if he'd turn into an ice cube under that chilly gaze. He always did, though. And he never minded it.

'So troublesome.' thought Raphael as he dragged Soren over to the oven. 

When they reached the oven, Soren stopped struggling and peered lowered his eyes, watching the two delicate mounds slowly rise under the warm heat of the oven. Clearly, it wasn't magic, but Soren thought it was interesting. 

It was simple, plain. Normal. Yet for him, it felt so strange — this sense of peace and stability. 

"Isn't it cool?" asked Alvara with a beam. 

Soren glanced at her. "...yeah."

A light laugh came from beside, and Vendra smiled pleasantly. "Will you two continue to hold onto each other?"

Soren immediately tensed and the corners of his lips tugged down into a deep scowl. 

"Let go."

Raphael, who had every intention of doing so, paused. There was a little vengeance in his heart after all of the times this sharp tongue of Soren's verbally injured him, and seeing how irritated the prince was...

...Raphael felt like he'd be willing to risk his safety to annoy the prince a little longer. 

"I don't want to?"

Brioc whistled. "Hahahaha, pretty cute~"

Soren, "....."

In reality, the situation wasn't so cute. Soren was by no means weak, especially after gaining muscle from all his fights, and was currently pushing against Raphael's arms with a large amount of strength.

In turn, Raphael tensed his arms and firmly pressed his feet against the ground to keep hold of the escaping sloth. It was a struggle, really. 

At that moment, the door slammed open, hitting the wall loudly as several pots that hung on the area clattered to the ground.

"I knew I sensed a--" The girl froze, arrogant eyes wide in surprise before twisting into disgust. "It's you!"

"Me?" asked Raphael, pointing at himself with one hand.

"No! Him, that fool you're holding in your arms!" 

Soren blinked. "Who are you?"

"I am Alicia Heringtale. The future bride of Prince Vincent Rosenbaum, and the queen of this kingdom!"

Deja vu. 

Or it would be, but Soren still didn't remember her. He frowned in confusion as a lock of white hair fell in front of his face from his earlier struggles. "He had a fiance?"

"....." Alicia stared at him in utter horror at his words. "You dare forget your own brother's future queen? Again?"

"I didn't forget. I never remembered to begin with." said Soren calmly. 

"You... you absolute..." Her large eyes flickered to Raphael's hand. "What is this? I knew it. Vincent's youngest brother is a no good scum. The rumours of your change must've been a farce."

"....." Soren didn't care for his reputation, but being slandered for being in a relationship with this bothersome person holding him...? No. Definitely not. "Shut up. You're wrong."

Raphael looked around and read the scene, realizing what was happening. The corner of his lips tugged into a grin and he tightened his hold. "Well, I wonder?"

Alicia seethed. "I knew it. What's your relationship with him?"

"I'd say..." 

Soren shoved a candy into his mouth.

"Eat."

"Mph—"

Raphael let go, pushing him to the side before pausing and chewing carefully. He seemed to savour the taste for a second, despite the situation.

"Oh, hey. It's pretty good." He stretched out a hand with a smile. "Give me some more, won't you, little prince?"

"No." 

"Why not?"

"It's min—" Before Soren could finish claiming the candy, Raphael snatched the bag from him and opened his stupid mouth as far as it could go, dumping the contents into his mouth.

In all fairness, there was little left in the bag that Soren currently carried, but that mattered little to the prince. Raphael had walked around the food covered counter, leaning on the opposite end as he continued to chew.

Soren materialized his whip.

"So you have a death wish."

"Mm... mrmph, mph."

"....." Soren's gaze slowly darkened, and he said in almost a whisper, "I'm going to kill you."

The ignored Brioc who stood on the side whispered to Alvara knowingly. "You see, Alvy, this is a prime example of adults who look proper on the outside, but are immature on the inside."

Alvara glanced at him, and then at the two. "You're not going to stop them?"

"Why would I? It's funny~"

Vendra sighed and shook her head, though a light smile played at her lips. "They'll destroy the kitchen, at this rate."

Before she could intervene, Alicia stepped forward in anger. "How dare you ignore me?"

Soren didn't spare her a glance. "Priorities."

Alicia's fists curled up from where she stood on the recently mopped floors, her feels firmly planted and face turning red. "Excuse you. Pray, what sort of teacher must you've had as a youth to have such unspeakable manners! Your mother must've failed to teach you how royalty behaves."

Soren paused, his vicious gaze sweeping over Alicia. She stepped back, feeling the weight of the danger. 

"Unfortunately, Miss Heringtale," said Soren rather politely, with an air of alienation so strong it could keep an army away, "My mother is dead. And was dead, for as long as I remember."

Ah. 

That bubbling anger and confusion in his chest — was this the originals once again? Soren relished in these moments of feelings, but why were they so intense, so desperate, and so dark?

None in the room had witnessed Soren's polite alienation, that was both chilling and unnatural. Before them, he behaved in an occasionally obedient, sometimes frightening and typically aloof way, but it had more of an unrestrained feel to it.

This had a sense of regalness to it. A familiar one, too. Raphael recognized it. 

A mixture of Damien's obedient appearance, and Vendra's elegant tone. Carrying hints of Vincent's dominance and royalty. 

A combination of many people. 

Alicia's mouth gaped, and she scowled deeply. "Well, then it seems you were born with dirty blood, and it clearly shows."

Soren tilted his head slightly, chin slightly raised, and his chains coiled around his wrist from his earlier murderous intentions.

"And?" 

"What?"

"What does my blood have anything to do with you?"

"I, well, that—" She stepped back, stammering as her golden locks brushed against the door. "How unbefitting of royalty!"

"I," said Soren slowly, an eerie smile that was ever so faint on his lips. “never considered myself royalty."

The woman's eyes blazed in humiliation and burning anger. "You--"

"Enough." A low voice boomed, vibrating in the air as it hung low. 

From the door stepped Vincent, cold and dominating, as his deep eyes swept across the room. 

Although it seemed as if Soren was handling his own business, which he was, the threatening air of opposition did not come from the prince alone.

Raphael had finished the candy at some point, smiling against the counter while watching the scene though his eyes carried no hints of amusement. 

Alvara had narrowed her bloody eyes, wisps of dark mana at the tips of her fingertips while Brioc watched in violent interest beside her. Vendra was the only one who seemed calm, cutting the food continuously with the blade as sharp as any weapon.

"Miss Heringtale," said Vincent deeply, not a single lick of emotion in his eyes. "it is time for you to return home."

"I've just arrived…"

"Without permission from anybody in the castle, that is. Whether you leave by your own terms or within the arms of my guards, it is up to you."

Alicia frowned, batting her eyes. "Vince—"

"You will refer to me by my title, Miss Heringtale."

Her innocent look disappeared. "I am your fiance."

"I refused it already."

Alicia laughed mockingly. "Do you really think you have a say, Prince Vincent?" With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving with a loud bang. 

When her footsteps were out of mind, Vincent nodded at Raphael and turned to Soren. "Soren. I apologize for her actions."

"I don't care about that." said Soren with a shrug, turning back to glare at Raphael who gave him a look of innocence. 

Raphael looked up at Vincent and raised a brow. "Romance troubles?"

Vincent frowned. "Always, as you know."

Brioc turned to look between the two of them and gasped more loudly than needed to be. "Wait, I understand! You two are friends, aren't you?"

Vincent nodded, and Raphael grinned, casually raising a hand in greeting.

Soren ignored them, moving to the side after realizing they were conversing. Vincent was the prince he'd interacted the least with since he entered this world, and he held no feelings. 

For the original, the impression was vivid, almost affecting Soren's own opinions from their overwhelming depth. Vincent had been strong, proud — the ideal prince. He was polite but cold, carrying out his duties flawlessly as he showed no weaknesses. 

The original had admired him deeply. Only, that cold and unyielding prince had not only behaved that way to his subjects, but to his own family as well.

And in Vincent's negligence, the original had gone mad. 

Although it wasn't solely the first prince's fault. The original had been alone in this large castle, one far too big for a small child to survive in alone. 

A quiet, dull pain in his chest made the kitchen, which had seemed bright and peaceful, turn bland again. 

In the end, Vincent was not an awful person. 

He was one whose story wasn't fully known, so Soren could not judge him based off one person's impression. Yet Soren didn't want to learn about these 'brothers' of his. 

He hadn't before, and he still didn't. Even if that meant this dull, irritating sensation would disturb him every time.

"When did you return?" asked Vincent to Raphael, though his eyes seemed to flicker to Soren on the side. 

Raphael observed with a casual smile. "Recently."

"Did you return with my... brother, and the others?"

"Well, no, I didn't."

"Then?"

"That's not something you should ask me, is it, Vin?" asked Raphael with a knowing look. He tapped on the kitchen counter while his lazy look made Vincent frown. 

The two were similar in that way. Both cold and indifferent, Soren and Vincent were.

Vincent looked uncomfortable as he looked at Soren. "Did you return recently, Soren?"

Soren, at some point, had moved to hang over a chair in the corner, arms draped over the back of the frame. His eyes were bitingly cold. "Yes."

"I see."

"....."

"....."

"Okay, enough!" exclaimed Brioc loudly, jumping over a bag of flour on the ground as he walked over. "You're so awkward, it gives me goosebumps."

Soren looked away, and Vincent sighed. 

"I will take my leave now." said the man, turning around before pausing at the door. "Have you... returned for a reason?"

There was no accusation in his tone, as there was once. Raphael nodded at the tone, and Soren glanced over lightly. 

"I've returned to resolve the issue in the Haze Kingdom."

"And do you intend to stay?"

Soren didn't answer and instead said, "The plans are with Prince Atlas, so speak to him if you need anything, Prince Vincent."

"Very well."

The door closed softly, and those dominating footsteps grew further and further. Brioc blinked at the door and whistled. 

"Wow~ You two really don't get along."

Alvara face-palmed at his answer, and Vendra shook her head with a troubled smile. Only Raphel behaved normally, his dark gaze resting solely on Soren. 

"You can't make trouble until the plan is over, little prince."

"I won't."

Raphael leaned against the counter with one arm, vision still on the mop of white hair. "I'm a little curious, though. Whether you're avoiding your brothers is because you despise them, or because you're scared they'll start to care."

"It doesn't matter." replied Soren coldly. 

"Doesn't it?"

"It doesn't."

"Don't you think that the fact you didn't answer means it's an answer you want to avoid saying?" 

Raphael was challenging, pushing his buttons and forcing something. It was as if the protagonist saw through everything, his piercing abyssal eyes all-knowing. As if there was something Raphael expected from Soren.

Something neither of them could understand. 

Soren stared at him and turned around in the chair, closing his eyes and ignoring the probing question. He'd wrap things up quickly, find everything he wanted soon. 

That was all he needed to do.

"The plan will start tomorrow."