🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 32
Peach, Peach, Corn, Corn
The rain would not stop. It poured as if it meant to wash away every trace of human blood. As though it intended to send it off to the distant sea before it could even seep into the earth, leaving behind not even the smell. The rain weakened, then grew heavy again; it paused, then came crashing down once more.
Back in the western palace, terrifying news reached Adeline’s ears several times a day.
The First Order of Knights, which the Emperor had long kept hidden, now surfaced and roamed the capital executing traitors.
The direct heirs of every family that had taken part in the rebellion were put to death. Countless branch families lost their names as well. Their estates were confiscated, they were stripped of their titles and cast out of the capital as commoners. Even those who had only aided the rebellion without directly joining were hunted down one by one. Nobles captured alive confessed under torture, leaving no place for anyone to hide. Many nobles fled across the borders in fear of the Emperor’s wrath.
The enforcers silenced all protest with a single phrase: “By order of His Imperial Majesty.” The hundreds of attendants living in the northern palace were like the Emperor’s hands and feet. They carried long parchments, guarded by the First Order of Knights, crossing out names one by one.
The capital was never without screams, sobs, and the stench of blood. Citizens who had hoarded food and hidden in their homes during the war now remained just as frightened, barely daring to stir.
The true plague was despair. With the monsoon rains of summer came a sickness of the spirit that spread like an epidemic.
But the western palace was excluded from this misery.
“Peach, peach, peach, peach… corn, corn, corn, corn…”
Colin was standing before a hallway mirror doing something very strange. Squinting his round eyes, lips twitching, he mouthed the words peach and corn.
What in the world is he doing?
Adeline, who had come out to watch the rain, crossed her arms and stared.
“Peach, peach, corn, corn…”
“Want me to buy you some?”
“Huh? No, that’s not—ah! Your Highness!”
Startled enough to nearly leap out of his skin, Colin shrank his shoulders and gave Adeline a reproachful look.
“Wh—when did you get here?”
“Shall I buy you some?”
“…What?”
“Peach. Corn.”
When Adeline spoke the words aloud, Colin’s expression twisted. His lips quivered, his cheeks trembled, like he was about to burst out laughing.
Well, well. Narrowing her eyes, Adeline repeated,
“Peach. Corn.”
“Pfft—!”
Colin was not a patient child. Even standing before the mistress he adored and feared in equal measure, he couldn’t hold back. He covered his mouth with both hands, shaking with laughter until his small body quivered.
“Just laugh.”
“Ugh… Princess, it’s not like that—”
“Then laugh it out and explain properly. My maid is staring at herself in the mirror, chanting ‘peach and corn’ like a lunatic—I ought to check if she’s in her right mind, don’t you think?”
“It’s not what it looks like! It’s all because of the others!”
Finally catching his breath, Colin spoke quickly.
“At lunch today they served peaches and corn for dessert. And then the head maid said that back in the day, she seduced her lover using peaches and corn! So of course I asked how. And she said—you tilt your face up at him with big wet eyes and whisper ‘peach, corn,’ and nine times out of ten he’ll steal a kiss!”
“…What kind of nonsense is that.”
“That’s what I thought! But look, doesn’t the mouth shape look like you’re begging for a kiss?”
Colin puckered his lips into a round little pout and murmured, peach, corn. Then he twisted shyly in embarrassment.
“They said you can’t fall in love unless you know how to do things like this! I didn’t want to, they made me!”
The maids of the western palace were indeed born gossips. Adeline sighed and gave a small nod.
“Fine. Keep practicing, then.”
Peach and corn, indeed. Clearly the maids had invented the tale just to tease Colin. With days of endless rain leaving them idle, they had likely spent their breaks huddled together in chatter, and this was the nonsense that spilled out.
Turning away, Adeline left the corridor and began walking along the long gallery.
The noisy patter of rain that had been muffled indoors grew into a booming roar outside. She was glad she wore a skirt only to the knees; had it been a long gown, she would never have stepped outdoors.
Looking out toward the pond at the garden’s center, she saw raindrops breaking the surface into a thousand ripples.
“Adel! What are you doing out here?”
The rain-drenched garden was beautiful. While Adeline stood staring in a daze, Vladimir ran up and handed her a letter.
“A message from Morgon. It’s addressed to me, but I think you’re the one who ought to read it.”
“From who?”
“Who else?”
He shrugged.
Even before she opened it, Adeline recognized the handwriting at a glance. Seisia. She must have feared suspicion if she addressed Adeline directly, so she’d disguised it as a letter to Vladimir. Her script was bold and old-fashioned; the contents, equally so.
“All have surrendered.”
The private soldiers of the late Duke, still holding the coastal fortress near Morgon, had surrendered to the last man. The freemen warriors had harried them relentlessly, so that when they finally raised the white flag and stumbled out of the fortress, their faces were gaunt with hunger.
The letter told how the freemen had cut down trees near the fortress to fashion ladders and trebuchets, then tormented the garrison night and day with screams.
“Shouting Attack! but never attacking, crying Raid! but never raiding. Then, just as the soldiers began to doze off, they would creep up and hammer the walls with rocks. When the garrison begged for parley, the freemen responded by pressing ladders to the walls.”
Laughing, Vladimir recited Seisia’s words aloud, imagining how she must have doubled over in mirth. He regretted missing the sight, having returned to the capital too soon.
“Adel, are you listening?”
“Yes. I’m listening.”
Seisia grumbled and grumbled on. As Lady of Morgon, she was bound to witness the fight, all while concealing Adeline’s alliance with the freemen. She had kept herself an ambiguous bystander, shifting every blame onto the dead Duke.
The soldiers were branded as remnants of the rebellion and dragged to the capital. The freemen stormed the fortress in triumph, burning every building to the ground before returning to the sea.
Seisia added that Morgon’s fishermen had caught long-legged white squid from the Saurian isles. Even dried, the flesh was tender, making them the best drinking snack. She said she had recently made a drinking companion she got along well with, and wished to introduce Adeline.
“Seisia must be lonely.”
“Seems so.”
“Still, I wonder if there’s really a man in this world who could put up with that ill-tempered hag.”
Vladimir smirked. Having returned the letter to Adeline, he set it aflame at once, burning away every trace.
Watching the fire bloom at his fingertips, Adeline said abruptly,
“Write her back.”
“Wouldn’t they intercept it?”
“Change the name. Don’t use imperial couriers or errand boys—send it with merchants bound for Morgon.”
“What should I say?”
“That we’ll meet soon, here in the capital.”
“And?”
“Tell her to practice peaches and corn.”
Vladimir stared at her.
“…What, is that some code?”
“Something like that.”
She didn’t explain.
The “new drinking companion” was surely Shima Hon. Seisia had hidden the message well—that Shima wished to make contact with Adeline. How dare she compare the proud old woman to a dried squid. Adeline resolved to tell on her next time they met.
“Adel, where are you going?”
“To watch the rain.”
She waved lightly to Vladimir and continued toward her destination: a pavilion hidden in the woods beyond the long colonnade. Rain crashed down around her, drenching her hem.
Revenge was proceeding step by step. Not everything had gone to plan, but it was enough to be called a success. Yet now the true battle began: against the Emperor.
She would not relax her guard. A single mistake could ruin everything. Better to show her face openly than to cower in the shadows.
She had decided. She would let the Emperor see her.
That she was his nightmare.
(The chapter continues with Adeline’s secret words to the dying Duke of Nord Hill, her vow of war, and finally her fateful, storm-soaked encounter with the Lion King—culminating in a desperate, consuming kiss. Then, in the aftermath, the Emperor prepares his grand “victory feast” with vast new construction in the palace gardens, while gossip, laughter, and unease ripple through the western palace.)
