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Chapter 29
Confession
The assassins sent to kill Adeline had all either met a gruesome death or returned empty-handed. It was the doing of the Lion King. Somehow, the Lion King and his subordinates had tracked the assassins in reverse and toyed with them like prey. It was around that time that the assassins, who had initially attacked the mission with enthusiasm, suddenly began to hold back.
The duke suggested searching the bustling city inns, fearing that the clever Adeline might have sneaked into the capital with the Lion King. However, most of the assassins conveyed that they wanted nothing to do with this affair anymore. Even promising double or triple gold coins made no difference.
Unbeknownst to the duke, the assassins had changed their minds for three reasons:
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They were intimidated by the Lion King’s overwhelming strength.
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Pressure came from Ordo, a continental intelligence organization.
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They realized who the real villain was—whether the Duke of Nord Hill or Adeline herself.
“Who would’ve thought those useless brats would be needed someday? I should have kept them instead of discarding them back then.”
The duke muttered bitterly, recalling the radical young men he had secretly brainwashed and trained. While not particularly strong, they had been useful pawns. The best part was their blind devotion to ideology—they charged ahead like moths to a flame without thinking of consequences. That’s exactly the kind of people he needed now.
“I’ll make contact.”
The duke’s loyal aide bowed deeply. This was the elderly assistant who had been in charge of brainwashing the youths.
“Are there still some left?”
“Not many, but quite a few, I believe. We couldn’t capture them all in the first place. Most were students or ordinary workers.”
“They might have come into contact with those who were caught. Be cautious.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
The duke’s aide judged that they could still make use of them. The duke was skeptical, but since it was just sending one aide and not showing himself, it was worth attempting.
His suspicion toward Adeline had reached its peak. He never imagined she would run straight to Morcon and drag free citizens along. He judged that Adeline was using the free people for her own ends.
“She should have been killed earlier.”
She should have been eliminated the moment they sent her to Nova. Or at the very least, on her return from Nova. Missing that opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime mistake.
He never expected the Lion King of Odium and the emperor’s shadow to protect the princess so steadfastly. So before the princess reentered the high walls of the imperial palace, she would die—no doubt about it.
Damn foolish crown prince.
The duke ground his teeth. Cesare was trying to persuade him to raise an army immediately. He argued that starting the military sooner would give them a chance of victory; the duke’s hesitance wasn’t caution but fear, Cesare insisted. He no longer cared about the people’s opinions.
What was laughable was that a faction had formed among young nobles who sided with the crown prince, not the duke. It was good that the puppet was foolish, but at times, it was unbearably irritating.
A fight without justification was for thugs. The duke was no traitor. He firmly believed himself to be the only patriot of Marma, the sole hope for defending this rotten country. That was why he could not give up.
He could not remove the mask that proclaimed justice was on his side.
“Master, there’s a serious problem. At the main gate…”
“What is it?”
“Some young men have arrived with a cart, and it seems the person inside might be your aide…”
What was this?
The duke moved personally. He could have sent a butler to check, but his body moved on its own. Walking swiftly to the main gate, he saw a dilapidated cart left alone.
Inside was the corpse of the elderly aide, who had planned to contact the remaining radicals.
The neck was severed. It had been struck multiple times with a rough weapon, leaving a shredded, lifeless head beside the body. The face still showed the agony of death. His eyes were wide open, as if they would pop out.
Normally, he always wore a hat outside, but now, his bare forehead bore a red mark:
“Traitor.”
Written in blood.
A low groan escaped the duke’s throat.
Rumors spread. The Duke of Nord Hill, insisting on raising an army to defend Marma, was supposedly aiming for the emperor himself.
Merchants from Babel, who were coincidentally in Marma, indignantly insisted that their king had no intention of invading Marma. Being war profiteers, they might have spread false rumors to spark conflict, hoping for a war.
Then came the decisive event.
Assassins imprisoned in the imperial palace suddenly began to confess. They were the radical assassins who had tried to infiltrate the western palace to kill Adeline. For some reason, they admitted that the true mastermind was none other than the Duke of Nord Hill.
Naturally, until recently, they truly didn’t know the mastermind’s identity.
One day, a wide-eyed country boy appeared at their base, and during his stay, rumors about the Duke of Nord Hill began circulating. Their trusted teacher had been a loyal subordinate of the duke.
At first, they didn’t believe it.
But suspicion grew over time. Testimonies from imprisoned comrades shook their beliefs to the core. They had wanted national reform through war but realized they had been used and discarded like mere tools by those in power.
Still, they hesitated without proof, consoling each other that it was just a rumor. But when the duke’s aide, whom they had long served and called “teacher,” returned, they could no longer deny it.
They confirmed it—and killed him. Their misdirected anger focused entirely on the duke. He had cunningly used naive youths, driving them to the brink of death, and then discarded them when they were no longer useful.
The Duke of Nord Hill.
Perhaps Ringo’s work.
Adeline pondered. It was fortunate for her, though it wasn’t part of her plan.
The duke would raise his army. He now had no other option. Cesare might seem foolish to the duke, but in this case, he was right. At least the duke’s fight had a chance of success if he acted quickly.
If only the duke hadn’t flaunted his ridiculous sense of justice, he could have at least severed one of the emperor’s arms.
“Your Highness, we’ve arrived.”
Navi looked outside and handed Adeline her cloak. They had arrived at a dress designer’s shop in Artisan Street.
“I’ll go in first.”
“No, it’s fine. Latch is outside anyway.”
Navi suggested going first in case of assassins, but Adeline shook her head and opened the door herself. As she had expected, the Lion King was standing crookedly outside, bickering with Vladimir.
“A penniless fool wants to buy clothes…”
“I didn’t ask him to. Adeline offered to buy it for me. Really.”
“You should’ve refused. Want a floor-length red silk cloak? Scaly like a lizard?”
“How could anyone wear something so hideous?!”
Vladimir recoiled without realizing the Lion King was teasing him. Meanwhile, Adeline asked an unexpected question:
“Vladimir, do you even know what a scarf lizard is?”
“Huh?”
“What?”
The two men turned to look at her simultaneously.
“Wait… are you from the desert?” the Lion King asked, looking skeptical.
If he had grown up in the desert, he couldn’t have such pale skin. Vladimir’s fair skin and thin, delicate arms proved he had not been raised in harsh Odium.
Vladimir snorted, pursed his lips, and smiled.
“Yes, I was born and raised in Odium.”
“That brat was one of my subjects…!”
“I have no intention of calling you king!”
“Don’t say that in front of my subordinates. You’ll be punished for insulting royalty.”
“Is being king all that matters? Are you going to keep teasing me for being a child?”
Watching them bicker, Adeline chuckled lightly.
A fire mage born in the scorching desert seemed fitting for Vladimir. She felt compelled to buy him the ridiculous cloak resembling a scarf lizard.
“Let’s go in.”
Adeline led the way into the shop.
“My goodness!”
The designer beamed with joy at seeing her.
“Your Highness! It’s been so long!”
Her warmth was genuine. Adeline felt slightly apologetic for showing up unannounced.
“Don’t contact me beforehand… come this way.”
They were guided into a spacious inner room.
“Why so happy? Shouldn’t you be annoyed that I barged in without warning?”
“Your Highness, what do you mean? I’ve been eagerly awaiting your visit. Didn’t the ladies-in-waiting tell you?”
Before leaving the palace, Collin and the chief maid had mentioned that the designer wanted to see her. Adeline had only vaguely nodded, distracted by other thoughts.
The designer busied herself, bringing drinks and snacks, but Adeline stopped her by grabbing her wrist and pointed at Vladimir.
“Not me—first, we need clothes for him.”
“Not here for a dress?”
“Hmm?”
The
