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Chapter 15
“The Emperor’s Daughter”:
The emperor’s doctors rushed out for Adeline, who staggered in shock. She was escorted to a private chamber and received the utmost care and comfort from the emperor’s attendants.
Even in his crumpled pajamas and disheveled hair, the emperor silently admired his daughter, perfectly beautiful as a painting.
At that moment, Adeline thought:
“Remember this well. My face, the shape of my eyebrows, nose, lips—engrave them on your retina and never forget. Even in dreams, after death, or if reborn, recall them easily. I am a blade grown from your heart. A blade that fed on your flesh and blood and grew monstrous.”
The emperor murmured:
“Poor thing.”
As his pity for Adeline grew, the attendants’ demeanor toward her became increasingly attentive. Those closest to the emperor instinctively sensed that his heart was tilting toward her.
“Father.”
Adeline’s performance was flawless. She had prepared for ten years—there could be no awkwardness. She mirrored the face she had practiced countless times in front of a mirror: pitiful yet beautiful, seemingly powerless. She had abandoned defiance and even resentment, silently pleading to live safely in a secure place.
“I will no longer disobey your command. I will no longer tarnish your face.”
To feign truth, one must carry sincerity. Like a daughter returning to a long-estranged father, begging for affection, Adeline prostrated herself at the emperor’s feet.
“Adeline.”
The emperor looked into her eyes with careful deliberation, then said:
“We must bring the banquet forward.”
A lukewarm hand brushed Adeline’s cheek. Like a father worried about his ailing daughter, the emperor lightly stroked her face. His expression was one of utter satisfaction. He felt that the beautiful daughter he had paid a fortune for was finally worth it.
Emperor Hugo VI declared a banquet in honor of Adeline Vita. It was said he held the hand of Adeline, who had fled in terror from assassins, and personally comforted her. The specifics of their conversation were unknown, but the scene appeared as though the kind emperor had bestowed warmth upon his pitiable daughter.
Adeline asked whether the emperor’s power could protect her from those ruthless rebels. He responded: she was granted authority to command the Fifth Royal Guard Battalion against them.
Adeline was satisfied. The emperor likely was too.
She felt her stomach churn violently. Nausea overwhelmed her. The doctors sent by the emperor diagnosed that Adeline was having a psychological rejection response due to extreme fear and shock.
Indeed, they were the emperor’s doctors. Even on the carriage back to her palace, she could not stop retching.
Psychological rejection? Shock and fear? She understood all too well. Hatred for the emperor twisted her entire body; her blood surged backward, her mind boiling with rage. Her hatred had accumulated to the point she could no longer recognize it as human emotion. It twisted through her body like creeping vines.
When she pressed her forehead to his hand and kissed the gleaming golden ring, it felt as if molten iron had been forced into her mouth.
“Your Highness, are you okay… Your Highness!”
Arriving at the western palace, Adeline staggered into the bathroom. Navi rushed in, but could only stamp her feet in frustration at the closed door.
The sound of Adeline’s painful vomiting echoed.
“Your Highness, Princess Adeline!”
Calm down. It’s not over yet. Calm down, Adeline. She whispered to herself as she clutched her stomach and sank to the floor. Practicing in front of the mirror had been easy, but facing the emperor in person made it nearly impossible to restrain the murderous intent rising within her.
“You made me a monster,” she thought. One day she would say this to him. The years of beatings, starvation, and confinement left permanent scars. Everything Cesare did was learned from her father. She had been cast into a foreign enemy country, far from being a foolish child, simply to escape his attention.
“I sold both of you,” said the late Tamiren’s steward. Adeline did not doubt his words. The emperor had bought both her and her unfortunate mother.
Her mother was dead. The emperor knew the perpetrator—perhaps it was even himself.
The thought made her stomach convulse with violent nausea. She curled on the bathroom floor, her heart pounding painfully. Blood roared through her veins, burning her heart and rushing to her head.
Finally, Adeline stood before the mirror and plunged her hands into cold water, splashing her face.
“Do not be addicted to malice,” said King Eisen of Nova.
At that time, Adeline planned in her mind how she would systematically defeat her enemies when she returned to Marma, imagining in detail the painful deaths she would inflict. She had repeated these scenarios until memorized, drawing careful mental sketches. Eisen had watched her, concerned.
“Can’t you just stay here?” he had once asked, advising her not to return.
Adeline had exploded in anger, reminding him he had promised to send her back safely. She had waited years for that day, and now he questioned it?
Eisen, with his fingers deformed from holding a pen too long, gently stroked her hair. Despite her complaints, he showed no resentment, only calmly said:
“I will protect you, even if all Nova’s nobles rise against you.”
Such an uncharacteristically romantic vow. Adeline had laughed, incredulous, asking whether he intended to make her the world’s greatest villainess, a femme fatale who would mock a king, or perhaps just a parasite of the Nova royal court.
Eisen did not laugh.
“I told you, Adeline. I feel responsible for you.”
Of course.
Adeline whispered:
“If they made me a monster, you made me a weapon. So feel it. That responsibility, that guilt. Feel it until you die.”
They had met at the worst possible point, hated each other for years, and now only mutual human sympathy remained, allowing understanding.
“Let’s call it petty friendship.”
“Our relationship?”
“Yes. How about it?”
“Fine.”
Eisen finally smiled. Still, Adeline preferred his ungainly fingers over his smiling face.
The water was cold, numbing her hands. She had initially only splashed her face, but soon drenched herself entirely, fully alert, staring at her reflection.
“I will not succumb to malice. If this hurts this much, it must mean I’m still okay.”
She slowly removed her crumpled, soaked clothes. After taking off her gown and pajamas, she emerged in only her undergarments and spoke to Navi, who was waiting by the door.
“The men?”
“In the basement.”
“Learned anything new?”
“No. We decided to wait until Your Highness arrived.”
“Let’s go.”
Navi dressed her in a thick dress and gown. Adeline descended into the secret chambers deep within the western palace. There were many such hidden rooms, some clearly used as prisons. Some assassins who had attacked her palace were captured there.
At first, Ringo interrogated them, before Adeline had confronted the emperor. When words failed, the enraged Lion King drew his weapon. Ringo wanted to summon Ordo’s torturer, but Adeline stopped him and called for Navi.
These men, long tormentors of Adeline, resisted even Navi’s hypnosis. Out of more than ten, only one finally revealed the truth.
As expected, the gold came from Blanche Tamiren, known as Mother Blanche. She had sent them a carriage full of coins, promising ten more carriages if Adeline Vita were killed.
Tamiren. She had grown tired of hearing the name. From Monier Tamiren to Mother Blanche, the chain of evil ended here.
The moment the name Tamiren left the man’s mouth, Adeline released her tightly bound hair, donned thin pajamas and a gown, and added tears with saltwater before rushing to the emperor’s palace.
After meeting the emperor, Adeline returned underground with Navi, encountering the Lion King, who had remained in the chamber. He wore a glove on one hand.
“What are you doing?”
Seeing her gaze fixed, he threw off the glove:
“Got bored waiting, so I hit a few.”
“Alive?”
“Of course.”
They were alive but in poor condition. Even without hypnosis, they seemed ready to spill everything.
Adeline approached the men.
“I heard Tamiren provided the gold. Now, let’s ask something else.”
Their eyes met. This was the one who had stabbed her bed with a knife. She asked with measured expectation.
“Name?”
No answer.
“You must have a name. You stormed the palace; you’ll be executed anyway. Planning to die without leaving a name?”
Still no answer. Adeline slowly spoke:
“I’ve always wanted to ask. I hope you’ll answer.”
Her gaze fixed on his face.
“Who said my death would cause a war?”
The man raised his head sharply. Adeline continued:
“Did you believe it? That killing one person triggers a war? Even if I die by your hand, or by true Nova rebels, even if I die alone, spraying blood on Marma’s flag!”
The chamber fell silent. Adeline smiled coldly:
“There will be no war.”
“How…?”
“How naive you were, to believe that.”
The man could not believe it, finally biting his lips in rage.
Adeline crouched before him:
“You
