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Chapter 19
The boy who followed Logan into the imperial palace wore fairly decent clothes, but he was thin and unimpressive. His frame was small, his tangled black hair unkempt, and his red eyes were fixed uneasily on the floor.
But Adeline recognized him at once — this boy was Hircán.
She was so shocked that she couldn’t speak. Hircán lowered his head toward her.
“I greet the future of the Empire. My name is Hircán.”
“…Hircán?”
It was Logan who answered her question.
“The boy I mentioned yesterday. Your sparring partner.”
The orphan he had said he rescued from slavers? That was Hircán? Adeline quickly searched her memory. In the past, Hircán had suddenly appeared, slain the princes of Ascanas, and seized the throne. He was a calamity on the battlefield — a ruler worshiped by his people.
But now that she thought about it, little was ever known about his childhood. Hircán had arrived at the imperial capital of Ascanas in his late teens, where his identity as the emperor’s bloodline was confirmed. There had been rumors that he was mocked as the “Prince of the Streets,” but she had dismissed it as gossip. And yet — now he stood here, in the palace of Astia!
Shock pierced through her whole body.
Logan, puzzled by Adeline’s frozen silence, asked,
“What’s wrong? You don’t like him as your sparring partner?”
At those words, Hircán flinched and hunched his shoulders. That reaction made Adeline’s heart skip. Where had the proud, unyielding man she once knew gone?
There was not a trace of the “calamity of the battlefield” in the nervous boy before her.
Still — he was her nemesis. How could she fail to recognize him? In some ways, Hircán was even more dangerous than Grand Duke Oderon, a threat to be eliminated first.
He had destroyed the Bergen Fortress, turned the entire northern region into flames, dyed the Honel River red with blood, and left imperial citizens as carrion for crows. And now — that same enemy, the emperor who burned the lands of Teráden, stood before her in such a pitiful state!
Adeline’s eyes gleamed with chilling light, but she smiled brightly.
“So this is the boy you rescued from the slavers.”
“That’s right.”
“And his origin? He looks rather foreign — is he from Ascanas?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I lived in a remote area… I don’t know much about where I’m from.”
“Where did you live?”
“Near the northern Heoten Mountains. Beyond that, I don’t even know the names of the places.”
“Heoten, I see. And your family?”
“Both my parents died when I was very young. There was one elder who took care of me, but… he fell ill and died from the northern cold.”
It was a tragic story — yet none of it touched Adeline. The only thing that mattered was that Hircán was right here, in front of her. Using this sparring session as an excuse to cut down a future threat would be simple. That he was Logan’s disciple — or even a potential one — didn’t matter in the slightest.
This was a second chance from the heavens, a gift to make up for her past failure. Adeline’s mind was a storm of joy and murderous intent. Without thinking, she reached out her hand to him.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Adeline Teráden, princess of the Astia Palace.”
When Hircán only stared blankly at her hand, Adeline let out a small laugh and grabbed his hand herself.
“Never shaken hands before?”
“…It’s my first time. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m very glad to meet you.”
And she truly was. Since waking up in her twelve-year-old body, she hadn’t felt this happy. The boy before her was a once-in-a-lifetime gift — as if all the gods and fate themselves had blessed her. Or perhaps not the gods, but the former Duke of Bergen, who had brought him here — was he the one who had handed her this treasure?
She had called him here merely to keep Grand Duke Oderon in check, never imagining that choice would lead to this!
Adeline, overjoyed, didn’t even notice Hircán’s face turning red where their hands met. In her mind, there was room for only one thought: to kill the enemy who had once destroyed Teráden and started a war. Her voice trembled with excitement.
“Grandfather told me you’re gifted with the sword. How long have you trained? Can you handle a real blade?”
At her eager tone, one of the maids waiting by the training yard gasped.
“Your Highness! A real sword? Absolutely not!”
The maid — one assigned by Adeline’s old nurse Emma — had been serving in the training grounds recently. At her protest, Adeline’s brows furrowed sharply.
“Ha. Unbelievable. And what gives a mere maid the right to stop me?”
The maid went pale and dropped to her knees.
“Y-Your Highness, I wasn’t trying to stop you! I only meant to warn that using a real blade could be dangerous. I would never presume to—”
“How insolent. The question of danger or safety is for the Duke of the North to decide, not a servant like you. You’ve never even held a sword in your life, yet you dare offer me advice? You seem to have forgotten — I am the Crown Princess of Teráden. How could I command knights one day if I can’t even lift a steel blade?”
“Y-your Highness…”
“Enough. Leave. And don’t you ever presume to restrain me again.”
Her icy tone left Logan both stunned and impressed. To cow a veteran palace maid with sheer presence alone — that was the mark of a true ruler.
While Logan marveled, the maid hurried away, trembling. Watching her go, Adeline picked up two swords and handed one to Hircán. She had to finish this before the maid ran to the nurse with the news.
No doubt, by tonight, shocking rumors would sweep through Astia Palace — that a young boy had met a tragic end in training.
Adeline drew her sword and waited for Hircán to take his stance. Her heart thudded with excitement; her mouth was dry. It took all her willpower not to rush at him immediately.
“I look forward to a good match.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Your best won’t be enough. If you don’t want to die — give it everything.”
With that warning, Adeline lunged. It was almost kind of her to give him that much of a hint. Beyond this, there would be no mercy. The steel flashed white in her hands as she slashed for his throat — her eyes blazing with murderous light.
The killing intent radiating from her was brighter than the midday sun.
So people could shine like that? Or… was she even human?
To Hircán’s eyes, Adeline was dazzlingly beautiful — her skin clear as glass tinted with color, her nails glowing faintly pink. Moments ago, he had been amazed by the splendor of the golden palace, but now, the sight before him surpassed even that.
Seeing his astonishment, Logan smiled with pride.
“That girl is my granddaughter, the Crown Princess of Teráden — Adeline Teráden. You remember the greeting I taught you, don’t you? Go on, greet her.”
Pushed forward by Logan’s hand, Hircán had no choice but to walk toward her. The girl swinging her sword, unaware of his presence, was the most beautiful he had ever seen. Like a fairy from legend come to life.
Then, the clouds shifted, and sunlight poured in — Adeline’s golden hair gleamed like molten gold. Breath caught in his throat; a dreamlike daze swept over him.
Was she really human?
Just then, the golden-haired girl turned. Their eyes met. Hircán flinched. Her eyes — golden as starlight in the noon sky — sent a strange shiver through him.
But as he met that cold, emotionless gaze, his warmth faded as quickly as it had risen. Wrapped in an aura of nobility, she was clearly unlike anyone he’d ever known. Surely she would see him as the others did — a lowly commoner beneath her notice, maybe even a pest to be rid of.
Hiding his disappointment, Hircán bowed deeply.
“I greet the future of the Empire. My name is Hircán.”
“…Hircán?”
Her startled face froze him in place. She looked genuinely surprised — wide golden eyes, parted lips, as if he had startled a living doll.
“The boy I mentioned yesterday. Your sparring partner.”
Even at her teacher’s words, she didn’t react right away.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like him as your partner?”
The words made Hircán shrink. Perhaps it was true — the princess found him unworthy. What if she was angry that a mere commoner had stepped foot in her palace?
But to his surprise, Adeline’s expression softened, and she smiled radiantly.
“So this is the boy you rescued from the slavers. His appearance is a little foreign — is he from Ascanas?”
Caught off guard, Hircán hesitated. He didn’t want to seem dull before her, but he had only one answer.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t?”
“I lived in a remote area… I don’t know anything about my origin.”
“Where exactly?”
“Near the northern Heoten Mountains. Beyond that, I don’t even know the names of the places.”
“Heoten. I see. And your family?”
“Both my parents died when I was very young. There was an elder who looked after me, but… he died from illness during the northern winter.”
When he finished, the princess smiled and reached out her hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Adeline Teráden, princess of Astia Palace.”
Her white palm extended toward him — Hircán froze. Was she asking for a handshake? Before he could react, she took his hand herself. Her soft skin against his rough palm startled him, and she noticed.
“Never shaken hands before?”
“…It’s my first time. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I’m very glad to meet you.”
Her words eased his nerves. Even if it was just politeness, he wanted to believe her. He had imagined the princess of Teráden to be cold and arrogant, but she was nothing like that. Just as his master had said — she was beautiful, clever, and kind.
“Grandfather told me you’re gifted with the sword. How long have you trained? Can you use a real blade?”
Her gentle tone made him nod eagerly. She smiled — a soft, melting expression — then suddenly her face hardened like ice.
A maid had stepped forward to stop the match.
The princess harshly rebuked her and ordered her out. Hircán was relieved it wasn’t him being scolded — the princess clearly had no tolerance for anyone who challenged her authority.
He worried that he might accidentally hurt her with a real sword, but he dared not say it aloud. She was expecting him to give his all, and so he would.
“I look forward to a good match.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Your best isn’t enough. If you don’t want to die — fight with everything you’ve got.”
But… what if I hurt you, Your Highness?
He couldn’t voice the thought. It might wound her pride. Instead, Hircán simply fixed his gaze on the princess charging toward him — her small frame wrapped in a gleaming blue vest, her movements light and fluid, like a fairy from a tale.
Her golden eyes shone brighter than the sun. And within them, Hircán saw his own reflection.
