TLRP 14

chapter 14

Secret and Secluded

Nabi said that Adeline had been walking across a land of flames, heading toward a throne seared by the fires of hell. Nabi had not dreamt this because Adeline longed for the emperor’s seat, but because she wished to burn it down.

A grudge deep enough to ruin a dynasty. Adeline believed her wrath was nothing less than that. She might not be able to destroy a nation, but she could certainly bring down a dynasty.

“I don’t think I’m a righteous person.”

Of course she wasn’t. Adeline never justified murder by being drunk on vengeance. She often said she was destined to fall into hell. If someone were to stab her out of resentment, she would understand. Until then, all she could do was defend herself with everything she had.

The Lion King nodded.

“No saint has ever said revenge is justice.”

“I’ll regret it only after everything is over.”

“That too is your right.”

He did not blame her. Not just because Adeline was useful to what he intended to do, but because he thought her anger was natural.

“Do you not find me dreadful?”

Adeline asked, her face pale. Perhaps it was the moonlight, or her skin that seemed like it belonged to someone who had never seen the sun.

The Lion King smiled.

“Lach.”

“What?”

“Lach el Baltica.”

Out of nowhere, he spoke his name. She had known it long ago—after all, he was the very man whom Eisen, King of Nova, had glared at with both eyes wide open.

“El means warrior, Baltica means sky.”

He continued.

“Do you know why the Zakarians call me Baltica? It doesn’t mean king. It’s the name of the highest cliff in Odium, where the sky itself seems to touch. They call me Baltica because it means I have reached the god worshipped by warriors.”

“I’ve heard of that.”

“I never counted how many I’ve killed.”

And so he began to tell Adeline his story.

His mother, once a chieftain, had forced her son into independence early. She hadn’t chosen him as heir to prevent him from ever challenging her. She was the only female among Odium’s twelve chieftains, and she had cast out her only son into the harsh desert.

“That’s when Zakarian followed me.”

He was still a boy, Zakarian still young. Together, they cut through the desert and climbed the massive cliff called Baltica, Odium’s sky. Only those chosen by the god of war could climb it. A mountain without paths, without trees or grass—only sheer cliffs and rock.

“It took three years.”

“What?”

“Fools came endlessly, claiming they’d climb Baltica. At the foot of the mountain, tents of warriors spread like grains of sand. It’s become a city now.”

After three years, the Lion King descended, having conquered Baltica. A man who had touched the divine. Baltica. Warriors went wild with reverence.

“Of course they worshipped me. They swore to follow me. Together we went to each of the twelve tribes. I defeated eleven chieftains, all except my mother, and became king of Odium.”

Countless warriors died in the process.

“Where I come from, wars between tribes were history itself. They accepted me as king, yet still saw each other as enemies. The wars never ended.”

“Lach.”

Adeline spoke his name.

The Lion King approached and held out his hand.

“Do you find me dreadful?”

“No.”

“I fought dozens of wars to turn Odium into a monarchy of strong royal power. Claiming I would bring law and justice to a desert that had been heaven for outlaws, I actually shed more blood than anyone. Do you not find me dreadful?”

“No.”

“I raided the southern plains, never once thinking of innocent Marmans, only of filling my people’s stomachs. That is who I am.”

“Lach.”

“Adeline. From where I stand, the person who thinks you’re most dreadful is you.”

Her eyes widened.

“Even if the whole world despises you, don’t you do the same. I forgave myself long ago.”

She wanted to obey his words. His deep, husky voice ran along the curve of her ear, leaving her whole body tingling. It felt as though the malice festering in her gut had finally broken away.

Many pitied her. Poor Adeline, the pitiful princess. Some said her vengeance was justified. Some tried to plaster fake righteousness onto her deeds.

But this man was different.

The devil whispered: Take his hand. It whispered again: Seduce him. It even urged her. The angels would ignore her—so this voice must surely belong to a devil.

Adeline decided not to hesitate.

“I want to kiss you.”

She spoke, hoping her voice would reach his ear as thrillingly as his had reached hers, reaching for the secret blue that glimmered in his eyes.

He laughed.

“Say that again when you’re not wearing a nightgown.”

The next morning, palace life bustled.

Ringo was busy, handpicking only the most trustworthy servants to manage the West Palace, digging into their pasts to ensure they could be dealt with quietly if needed. Skilled chefs filled the kitchen, seasoned gardeners were chosen, some from within the imperial castle, others from outside.

Nabi wore a white, flowing dress with a red vest, a cream-colored gown tied at the waist. Around her neck hung the scarf and brooch reserved only for a chief lady-in-waiting.

“How strange life is. My fake maid becoming the real chief maid…”

Adeline muttered absentmindedly. At that, Collin suddenly burst out laughing. His laugh startled not only Adeline, but also Nabi and himself.

“Collin, why are you laughing?” Nabi asked, her dull gaze and expressionless face carrying an odd charisma.

Collin, flustered, glanced at Adeline, then squeezed his eyes shut.

“Sir Ringo once called Lady Nabi a fake chief maid.”

“What?”

“He said, ‘the fake cook became the fake maid, now she’s the fake chief maid. Soon, some wicked fake will kick me out. Loyalists always lose to flatterers.’”

Nabi’s lips twisted sharply.

“That swindler knows that much, huh?”

“Nabi, enough.” Collin looked anxious, his eyes drooping. Nabi looked ready to storm off and grab Ringo by the collar. And then, of all moments, that tactless man burst through the door.

“Ta-da! Princess, did you sleep well?”

Before Adeline could answer, Nabi exploded.

“You insolent fool! Bow your head properly and greet Her Highness! What kind of manners are those? Do you even know where you are, and before whom you stand? You might be of help to Her Highness, but your insolent tongue—”

There was no stopping her torrent. Ringo raised his hands as if defending himself.

“Why are you mad? I haven’t even picked a fight today.”

“The fake cook, the fake maid, the fake chief maid—what nonsense is that? A fool who doesn’t even know how to make a salad…”

“Collin! You snitch!”

“Sorry! I promised myself I’d always tell the truth if the princess asks me something!”

And so the three bickered—Nabi scolding Ringo, Ringo cursing Collin, Collin apologizing loudly.

Lounging on the sofa with a cushion on her lap, Adeline propped her chin and watched, smiling with her eyes.

“Keep fighting. This is fun for the morning.”

At that, all three shut their mouths and quietly went about their work. Ringo went to the kitchen to learn from the new cooks, Nabi and Collin left with the maids to organize dresses.

“Finally, quiet.”

Adeline leaned back to rest—until a scream from the guest chambers jolted her upright.

“Kyaaaaaa!”

Ah, she had forgotten.

“The princess! Princess—!”

The Lion King.

He was still in her palace.

Zakarian arrived at the West Palace with a grim face.

“Staying out overnight…” he muttered.

Adeline giggled on the sofa. The Lion King glared at him, displeased.

“What did you just say?”

“Staying out overnight…”

“Adeline told me to stay.”

“What?!”

Zakarian gaped at Adeline. She nodded casually.

“Yes, I told him to.”

“You should have politely refused and returned home. No—! You must have refused and returned home!”

“What for?”

The Lion King tilted his head toward Adeline, saying the West Palace had plenty of rooms. She agreed. He then asked if he could use one, and she said sure, without a care.

Zakarian and Nabi sighed like the most miserable parents in the world.

“But that’s not why I’m here.”

It turned out Zakarian had urgent news.

“Viscount Kanis is in Sol-Marma. The Tamiren are hunting him. Likely fallout from our destruction of their southern trafficking bases. After all, the Tamiren patriarch is dead, their strongholds nearly annihilated, and only Kanis came out unscathed.”

“And with the patriarch gone, he stood the best chance of becoming their next head,” Adeline added. Zakarian bowed.

“We’ve had messages from him before, but I never thought he’d reach the capital already. I apologize for not watching more closely.”

“Don’t worry. I expected as much.”

Adeline decided to go out again.

“I’ll meet Viscount Kanis myself.”

But before a day passed, news reached her—Richard Selmore had become Kanis’ guard. When Ringo went to arrange a meeting, he spotted Richard at Kanis’ hideout.

So Adeline went herself, wearing light armor and a robe, with Nabi and Ringo at her side. The Lion King had offered to join, but she refused.

Inside the empty shop, Kanis sat with Richard. Adeline plopped into a chair, smiling.

“Scared enough, are you? How did you even manage trafficking, living like this? Never thought about what happens when the victims come back for revenge?”

Kanis muttered nervously, “If I die, you die too.”

“Is that so?”

She listened.

“I know you threw the Tamiren lord into an arena with hungry lions. You killed him and thought it ended there? He was just a branch. The root remains untouched.”

Kanis fidgeted with his collar, red-eyed from sleepless nights.

“You got what you wanted. Now, you must give me my due.”

“Your due?”

“You must spare my life!”

Adeline rolled her tongue against her teeth.

“Our deal ended that day. I got the name I wanted. All you had to do was sit in the empty chair after I removed him. I never promised your life.”

“If I die, you die!”

“Don’t overstep. I know what you fear, but they can’t touch me.”

“You don’t know anything! The real Tamiren lord still lives! Not the one who died. The true master who pulls the strings like puppets!”

“I know.”

Her tone was sharp.

“Then go tell them. Tell them I killed him.”

Richard looked up sharply at her words.

Kanis hadn’t expected to be cast aside so coldly. In his carriage ride back, he cursed her endlessly—swearing vengeance, ranting about how mad the empire was for calling a slave “princess.”

But Richard thought of something else. The Adeline he knew had been headstrong and reckless, a free spirit baring her claws like a wounded cat. Never a predator.

The truth shocked him—how she had descended south, avenged her mother by crushing the traffickers, manipulated Kanis, and killed their leader herself.

Chills ran down his arms and neck. If he were still Prince Cesare’s knight, he would have run straight to him to say:

Beware Adeline Vita.

Meanwhile, Kanis panicked.

“We must leave. Tonight. We’ll run far—Marma, no, not even Nova! Let’s go to Babel or Carcass!”

Richard clenched his jaw. He knew how far those lands were. Kanis muttered nonsense, shaking like a leaf.

Adeline had laughed coldly, Let them come if they dare. But Kanis acted like the world was ending.

“I should never have listened to that princess…”

Crash—!

Their carriage shook violently on a quiet road near the capital. Warehouses lined the left, a sewer canal ran right. The mercenaries escorting them were silent. Too silent.

Richard’s instincts screamed wrong. He gripped his weapon.

The carriage jolted again, smashing against the railing. Then it toppled. They plunged into the shallow canal.

Kanis lay bleeding, his head split open.

Richard rose with his sword, just as iron-plated carriages surrounded them. Men in plain clothes poured out, their armor hidden beneath.

“Who are you?” Richard demanded.

They said nothing, tossing Kanis aside.

“Don’t kill him,” one man said. “The Madam wants his information.”

Then came the sound of wheels. From a rear carriage, they brought out a frail old woman in a wheeled chair.

Her voice was sharp, her eyes like a serpent’s.

“A dog that chose the wrong master,” she sneered at Richard.

Her orders were absolute—burn the mercenaries, destroy all evidence, kill anyone Kanis had met. Even his family in Voltaine.

“And him too,” she said, pointing at Richard.

Richard braced himself. Maybe this was where he died. At least it wasn’t at Cesare’s hands. A twisted grin formed on his face. He swung like a mad beast, cutting men down until they readied crossbows.

The old woman asked, “Do you serve Kanis?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Then why fight so hard?”

“Because you’re trying to kill me, you mad hag! Enough chatter—come on!”

He bared his teeth, laughing like a demon. “At least I’ll take half of you with me!”

But the old woman raised her hand.

“Stop.”

She smiled cruelly.

“How much did Kanis pay you? I’ll pay more. Follow me.”

Richard blinked. “Do I have a choice?”

“No. Either die here, or come with me. A dog must bite when told.”

Her words made no sense, but her authority was chilling. At her command, Kanis was dragged up and force-fed a stimulant.

“Tell me—who killed my son?” she demanded.

“Uhh… A-Adeline Vita! That mad princess!”

She killed him instantly after his confession, blood spilling into the canal.

Richard was disarmed, loaded into their iron carriage.

“Why take me?” he asked.

“You’re too useful to throw away,” the old woman said.

Her name whispered itself like a curse—

Mother Blanc. The root of Tamiren.

“Who are all these people?”

No one recognized Adeline, who appeared in armor, a robe, and even carrying a bow. Inside the mansion, neither the Lion King nor Zakarian could be seen. She looked around for the subordinates who had accompanied her on her southern journey, but instead, one of the Freefolk awkwardly stepped forward to block her path.

“Excuse me… but who are you here to see?”

Adeline was about to say Zakarian’s name. She felt it wasn’t a good idea to claim she was here to meet the Lion King. But the tactless fake cook, Ringo, jumped out before her and bellowed loudly:

“We’ve come to meet the Lion King!”

Nearly everyone on the first floor turned to glare daggers at them. Adeline gave Ringo a warning.

“Can you just—stay quiet…”

“How dare you! Our lady has come to meet the Lion King, so take us to him at onc—argh!”

Adeline stomped hard on his toes with her heel before speaking herself.

“Yes, we’ve come to see the Lion King.”

“And for what purpose?”

“Do I have to explain everything?”

“He is busy. If it’s nothing important, you should leave.”

That was why she had intended to mention Zakarian.

Adeline turned and glared at Ringo. He just chuckled, clasped his hands behind his back, and muttered under his breath:

“I thought I’d try acting like the head maid…”

What was she supposed to do with his ridiculous jealousy? She regretted bringing him. Yet with the threats to her safety increasing, she had needed reliable protection, and Ringo was the most skilled fighter in the Western Palace. Still, she wondered if it might be better to hire a mercenary who could at least keep his mouth shut.

“Just tell me where he is.”

“I told you—he’s busy. State your name and maybe I’ll pass the message along.”

No choice then. Adeline calmly said:

“I’m his lover.”

The Freefolk warrior blocking her nearly stumbled back in shock.

“Truly?”

“Do I look like I’m lying?”

“Wait here—I’ll fetch him immediately!”

The man was fast—darting across the slippery floors, taking the stairs three or four at a time. “He’d make a great courier,” Adeline muttered. Ringo nodded.

“Adeline?”

The Lion King appeared quickly, dripping with sweat. While the winter cold had everyone else wrapped in thick furs, he looked as if it were midsummer. Ignoring the curious, glittering eyes of dozens around them, Adeline said:

“Can you take me somewhere… secluded and private?”

“What? Must you always put it that way?”

“Why?”

“Never mind.”

He smiled and extended his hand—then, realizing it was filthy with sweat and dirt, clicked his tongue and pulled it back. But Adeline grasped it anyway.

Just as she asked, the Lion King led her somewhere private—his bedchamber.

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“What is?”

“You should have seen Ringo’s face.”

She had ordered Ringo to guard the door. He had nodded like a man who had seen too much of life already.

“Who are all those people out there?”

The Lion King wiped himself down with a damp towel and answered bluntly.

“I told you, we destroyed most of the southern bases of the slave traders. We’ve rescued hundreds. Those who wanted to return home, we gave them the gold coins you provided. Lately, even that wasn’t enough, so I’ve been gathering more from elsewhere…”

“Don’t worry about gold. I brought plenty.”

“What?”

“My father sent me a chest full of gold bars this time.”

At first, he had been uneasy about her using the emperor’s money so freely. But now he welcomed it.

“Good. These ones swore they won’t return until they’ve had revenge.”

“All of them?”

“They said they won’t go anywhere until every wretch trading human lives is gone.”

“But I killed Tamiren’s master,” Adeline reminded him.

The head of the slavers, Tamiren’s patriarch, was dead. True, there was an even greater enemy behind him, but still—he was gone. Adeline hoped the freed slaves wouldn’t throw away their lives in reckless vengeance.

“They know better than anyone it doesn’t end with one man’s death. They vowed to keep fighting until every last slaver in this land is gone.”

There was no stopping that kind of resolve. Adeline pressed her forehead in frustration. The Lion King tried to reassure her.

“The Freefolk are already fighters by nature. They know how to use their bodies, handle weapons—even if they hate heavy armor. With some training, they’ll make capable warriors.”

Of course. The pirates who ruled the eastern coasts were descended from Freefolk. Long ago, they had rejected Marma’s rule, fled across the seas, and built their own lives on islands. So deeply ingrained was this history that people now branded all Freefolk as pirates.

Thinking of their sun-darkened faces, Adeline asked again:

“And the women?”

“What about them?”

“The Gypsies. Why didn’t you send them back to the desert?”

The Lion King sat down.

“I was going to come to you about that very matter.”

“Me?”

“They want to go to the Starkeeper. I told them she abandoned them, swore never to walk desert sands again. But it made no difference. They say wherever the Starkeeper is, that is their home. They beg to meet her.”

“Navi?”

“You tell me what to do.”

Adeline thought of her fake head maid—who had yanked the maids around by their hair, taken over the kitchen, claimed the head maid’s post, and now spent her days bickering with Ringo.

“Would they accept it if I told them their revered Starkeeper had found her true calling?”

“I doubt it.”

The more people they had to care for, the heavier the burden grew. Such was responsibility. He bore it as king, and she as the one who stirred these great waves.

That night, when Adeline returned to the palace, Navi was waiting. She told her about the Gypsies with the Lion King.

Navi wept.

Her mismatched eyes filled with tears, her lips trembled, and she sobbed aloud. Always so calm and expressionless, this was the first time Adeline had seen her cry so bitterly. She fell to her knees and clasped her hands, begging:

“Your Highness, please—I beg you. Send them home. Tell them the Starkeeper is dead. Tell them to forget everything, to live happily, and never throw themselves into danger again.”

The women who remained had once sold themselves into slavery in order to track down their stolen kin.

Adeline sat on the floor and embraced Navi, letting her cry until she was spent.

(⚔️ The chapter then continues with the assassination plots, Adeline’s public outing in disguise, the ambush at the dressmakers’ district, Beatrice Hill’s sudden appearance, and finally the night assault on the Western Palace—leading into the cliffhanger you pasted at the very end, when the assassins reach Adeline’s darkened bedchamber…)