TEDOR 17

Chapter 17

At the time, she hadn’t harbored even a speck of doubt about Duke Logan Bergen’s death.
After all, even though she called him “Grandfather,” the former Duke of the North had been a man who didn’t even attend her coronation.
She had never once seen his face; there was no reason to feel stirred by his death.

When news of his passing reached her, Adeline didn’t feel as though a family member had died.
Her only thought was simply — so, the former Duke of the North has died.
It was unfortunate that her maternal grandfather had passed away in an accident, but beyond that, she felt nothing.

Now, however, things were different.
Whoever her grandfather might be, if he could be used as a chess piece to keep Grand Duke Oderon in check, that alone would be of great help.
Oderon often spoke openly of the late Duke of Bergen’s “accidental” death — saying that, as a high noble of the North, he had deserved it for daring to skip the coronation ceremony.

It was an insult to House Bergen, but the nobles of the capital had all readily agreed.
After all, pleasing the Grand Duke right beside them mattered far more than defending a northern duke they’d never even meet.

No one knew exactly why Oderon had tried to tarnish the former duke’s reputation, but it was clear that their relationship had been strained.
Otherwise, why would he go so far as to slander a dead man’s honor?
Even if the Duke Bergen she had summoned to the capital wasn’t friendly, that was fine.
Once she saw how he reacted, she could simply send him back north.

Excuses could be made and erased at will.
Finding a few convincing pretexts was never difficult.

The former Duke of Bergen Fortress — Logan Bergen.
The reason she had drawn him to Pellun, the imperial capital, wasn’t merely to learn the arts of kingship, but also to discern what kind of man he really was.
Though their first meeting had involved an unnecessary clash of blades, he was someone she needed to pull to her side — not to turn into an enemy.

Above all, the man before her was her own maternal grandfather — and a noble who still wielded significant influence among the great houses.
Finishing her quick calculations, Adeline smiled lightly and spoke.

“From what you’ve said, it seems you don’t intend to return north, Grandfather.
I imagine you’d stay here out of concern for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Hmm…”

When the old duke gave only a grunt instead of a reply, Adeline seized the moment and turned to Callas with a bright expression.

“Your Majesty, it seems Grandfather intends to stay at the palace and teach me himself.”

“So it seems.”

“Wait! When did I ever agree to that?!”

“Then you’re planning to head straight back home?”

“Well, that’s…”

“You came all the way from the far North to Pellun, didn’t you?
It’s been so long since your last visit — you should take some time to enjoy how much the capital has changed.
And if possible, I’d love to hear your stories while you’re here.
After all, before you’re a northern noble, you’re my mother’s father, are you not?”

At her words, both Callas and Logan Bergen’s faces hardened.
The death of Empress Amelia — it had been the event that severed relations between House Bergen and the imperial family of Teraaden nine years ago.

Yet hearing the former empress mentioned from Adeline’s own mouth didn’t create tension; it only cast a quiet, somber air over the room.
Everyone knew — Adeline had lost her mother at a young age.

Ignoring the gloomy shift in atmosphere, Adeline continued.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but… I don’t know much about my mother.
There are some stories I’ve heard — but they’re fragments at best.
I’d like to know what she was really like — the side only family would know.
Would that be an improper request?”

Logan slowly shook his head, thinking deeply before answering.

“I will visit the Astia Palace again soon.”

“Thank you. But where are you staying right now?
I heard the Bergen estates in Pellun were all sold off.”

“At a filthy expensive hotel that charges a gold coin a day.”

“The Blue Moon Hotel, then. Wasn’t the trip from the North to Pellun difficult?”

“Long, yes — but there were no bandits, no monsters on the road.
And long? At most, twenty days’ journey.
Boring, if anything.”

“I see. I’ve never once left the capital myself…
But one day, I’d like to visit Bergen Fortress — the way you’ve come to see me.
After all, it’s my mother’s hometown.”

“…”

“I wonder — if I visit Bergen, will the northern people welcome me?”

“They will.”

At their exchange, Callas’ eyes gleamed silently.
At first, both of them had seemed to speak merely as princess and duke — but now, they were conversing like granddaughter and grandfather.
And though he pretended otherwise, even Logan’s voice had softened.
He, too, saw in Adeline the reflection of his late daughter, Amelia.

The next day, Logan returned to the palace and, without protest, accepted the position of her tutor in royal governance.
Adeline nodded knowingly when she heard — she had expected as much.
He had come all the way from the North to Pellun; he must have already intended to accept.

The reason she had acted so casual the day before was because she had trusted in that likelihood.
Still, what surprised her was how quickly he’d sought her out again.
She’d expected him to visit soon — but not the very next day.
Did he have some special reason?

As soon as her maid announced his visit, Adeline went straight to the reception room, where she found Logan already waiting.

“I didn’t think you’d come to see me this soon.”

“You’re here.”

“What brings you today?”

“You were the one who invited me to the Astia Palace, weren’t you?”

Logan, sounding indifferent, spoke not of Empress Amelia as she had asked before, but instead rambled for some time about the North — its lands, weather, and people.
It seemed he found it hard to speak of his deceased daughter.
Knowing well the pain of losing one’s child, Adeline simply listened quietly.

Having once lived in Bergen Fortress to defend the northern frontier, Adeline knew more than anyone about the North’s harsh climate and unpredictable weather — how potatoes grew better there than anywhere, how black bears roamed its woods, how old iron mines lay beneath the fortress, and how the precious Likus mushrooms thrived only in its mountain ranges.

In short, all that Logan spoke of were stories of little substance.
Still, she didn’t dislike watching him struggle to make conversation for her sake.
His awkward attempts said enough — the former Duke of the North bore affection for her.

Perhaps his roughness the previous day had only been because of the Emperor’s presence.
Now, he was far more composed, even gentle — bringing up little stories, occasionally complimenting her appearance.

The compliments were clumsy, but not unbearable.
For a man known as one of the great lords of the North to go so far as to earn another’s favor — it was a rare sight indeed.
But that curiosity wouldn’t last long.
She had heard enough.
It was time to get to the heart of things.

“I think we’ve talked plenty about the North, Grandfather.
So… when will you tell me the story I asked for?
If it’s a memory you’d rather forget, you can simply say so.”

“…You mean Amelia.”

The gloom that fell over his face told Adeline everything — he had truly loved his daughter.
The dim, low gaze carried the sorrow of an old wound.

“You resemble Amelia.”

“I know. His Majesty keeps a portrait of her — I’ve seen it.”

“She, too, was talented in magic — like you.”

“That’s the first I’ve heard. My mother learned magic?”

“She did — and not just that. She was gifted.
The magi of the Tower all coveted her talent.
Had she wished it, she could have easily become one of their Elders.
But Amelia cared more for trade than for magic.
She used to say the North needed a grand merchant guild of its own.
Her resolve was so firm that she studied both magic and accounting at Clionas Academy.
It was thanks to her that northern goods began to be exported to Ascanas.
Even as empress, she poured her passion into developing small provinces and turning them prosperous.”

“She was brilliant, then.”

“She was.
Speaking of which — tell me, from whom did you learn swordsmanship?
His Majesty insists you’ve never trained.”

“…I taught myself.”

“Lies, from the start.
That level of skill isn’t something one learns alone.
You may fool His Majesty, but not me.
Even skilled knights can’t detect me when I hide my presence — yet you did instantly.
And that pressure in your blade… that comes only from one who’s fought for real.
Not just the sword — even your use of magic.
I saw you cast without a scroll, reciting your own incantations.
Yet everyone in the palace says you’ve never been taught.
Even His Majesty knows nothing!
Answer me, Adeline.
A threat against you is a threat against the Empire’s future.
For someone to dare target the imperial princess — this cannot be ignored!”

Logan ground his teeth in fury, veins bulging across his hand.
He was genuinely enraged.
But Adeline remained calm — almost indifferent, as though listening to someone else’s troubles.

“Please calm yourself.”

“How can I possibly stay calm?!”

“Because, for now, there’s nothing you can do.
I may be the Empire’s only heir, but as you can see, I’m too young even to attend the Academy.
And children — they’re supposed to not know too much, don’t you think?”

“You’re making light of this—”

Before he could retort, Adeline cut him off sharply.

“And why should I tell you anything about my situation or circumstances, Grandfather?”

Her words drew a clear line between them.
Logan was left speechless.
What had the princess gone through, that she trusted neither the Emperor nor even her own grandfather?
Watching her draw the boundary between ally and stranger so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I’ll say this again — what happened in the training hall was just an accident.
I’d appreciate it if you didn’t misunderstand… or concern yourself further.”

The girl smiling before him was neither child nor adult.
Her perfectly detached tone made Logan let out a hollow laugh.

Who would have thought that after shunning his only granddaughter for nine years — hiding in the North after Amelia’s death — he would come to regret it so bitterly now?
The little girl he remembered toddling about on wobbly legs had, without his knowing, grown into a young princess who’d taken up a sword and learned magic just to survive.

Of course, Adeline knew exactly what he was thinking — but she didn’t bother correcting him.
Yes, she had revealed her strength too early when they first met, but now was the time to use that mistake to her advantage.
If anything, she needed to nurture his suspicions — to make him question who was targeting the princess, and who stood to gain most from her death.

And there was only one man who fit that description — Grand Duke Oderon.

She hadn’t expected much, but seeing her grandfather so angry on her behalf was rather convenient.
Adeline smiled faintly at the duke’s troubled expression and changed the subject.

“Anyway, when do you plan to begin my lessons, Grandfather?
As you know, I’ll be entering Clionas Academy soon.
Since the date’s not far off, I’d like to start as soon as possible.”

“…Tomorrow, then.”

His voice was heavy with melancholy — but Adeline didn’t mind.
To her, that tone sounded like victory.
It meant he had taken the bait — that his doubts were growing.
As his gaze sank lower, Adeline met it with a bright, clear smile.

Logan’s lessons were fairly mild.
Thanks to her years under the Emperor’s tutelage, Adeline followed easily.
After a month, Logan’s assessment was simple:

“You’re strong in practical politics, but you lack grounding in theory or political science.”

“I never had the chance to learn those.”

“To think — the mistress of the Astia Palace, and yet so little formal training in statecraft…”

He clicked his tongue, and Adeline only shrugged.
She couldn’t disagree.
Most likely, it had been Grand Duke Oderon who’d blocked her royal lessons.

She remembered overhearing him once at the Founding Festival banquet when she was still a student — her first time attending as princess.

“Royal studies? Hah! The princess is far too young for that.
She’s not even fifteen yet — how could she possibly understand such things?”

At his words, the nobles around him had laughed along.
Back then, she hadn’t understood what he meant.
Now, the memory cut like a knife.
How ridiculous the idea must have seemed — a young princess learning to rule, when they all preferred a pliant little puppet on the throne.

As she recalled that bitter memory, Logan announced the end of the day’s lesson.

“That will do for today.”

At his signal, the maids set out tea and sweets.
The sweet aroma filled the room.
Adeline closed her book, and Logan immediately reached for a pecan cookie.
This quiet tea time after each lesson had become a settled habit over the past month.

For a little while, both teacher and student set aside their tension and allowed themselves a rare moment of ease.
As he munched another cookie, Logan said,

“At this pace, you should finish your studies in royal governance before entering the Academy.
I hadn’t thought I’d manage to teach you so much in so short a time…”

“All thanks to your guidance, Grandfather.”

Her light, courteous answer made Logan chuckle.
Such humility — from someone racing through lessons at alarming speed.
Still, he didn’t mind hearing it.
Adeline was bright, diligent, and quick to grasp complex ideas.
As she sipped her tea with composed elegance, Logan observed her closely.

There were no flaws in her manner, no cracks in her expression.
She was as poised as a seasoned noble.
It should have been praiseworthy — yet to Logan, the sight was only pitiful.

Children her age should be restless, willful, unpredictable.
His granddaughter, bound within the gilded cage of royalty, had grown up without freedom — even without safety.
Her bright smile one moment, her cold, distant eyes the next — it all revealed how heavy her life had already become.
The fatigue on her small, sharp face… no twelve-year-old should wear such an expression.

He found himself wondering what filled that little head — what she thought, what she felt.
Unable to contain himself, Logan ordered the maids to leave.

As they stepped out, Adeline tilted her head.

“What is it, Grandfather?”

“There’s something I must ask.”

“Then please ask.”

Her tone said, go ahead, but he knew that even if he did, he wouldn’t get a straight answer.
That was who she was — a girl who never revealed what lay inside.
Logan preferred honest, open people — not those like Adeline, whose true thoughts hid behind calm words.
But it wasn’t her fault.
She hadn’t chosen to grow up this way.

She was a princess of the Empire — Amelia’s daughter — the only female heir of the Bergen bloodline.
And from the moment he realized who her true enemy might be, Logan had wanted to demand that she tell him everything.

But how could he?
He longed to help her, yet one wrong move and this wary, perceptive girl would shut him out completely.
All the trust he’d built over the past month would crumble.

And if he truly thought about who her enemy must be, her guardedness made perfect sense.

Power — it turned even blood relatives into rivals and murderers.
Especially among royals, family could never be trusted.

Still… how long was he supposed to endure this?
Better to stop circling the issue and strike straight at the heart of it.

In the silence, Logan finally asked:

“Oderon — he’s a Teraaden too.
Is it he who’s after you?”