🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 15
‘But the Fraune family is perfectly fine, aren’t they?’
The Fraune sisters—nieces of the marchioness—had once strutted around the Luxen court as if they themselves were the Grand Princess, basking in the marquis couple’s influence. They treated Adellind like a pitiful child living off others’ charity.
After losing the heir and taking on that responsibility as well, the Grand Duke spent little time in court, so he had no room to notice the political struggles within it. Damian did his best to look after Adellind in the Grand Duke’s stead, but as a young boy with no experience in court politics, it was impossible for him to detect the calculated bullying happening beneath the surface.
Fortunately, many things changed after Tislin began visiting. Even so, whenever Adellind encountered them at court, she felt as if ants were crawling all over her body.
That fear ended completely only after the marquis couple were executed for attempting to poison Adellind Lux.
Though the Fraune family had not been directly involved in the poisoning attempt, they still suffered consequences, and Sella Fraune had not set foot in the Luxen court for the past six years. Since the ban had no fixed term, her sudden return clearly meant someone influential had intervened.
‘There aren’t many people bold enough to shove her back in front of me and get away with it.’
Adellind quickly narrowed down a few candidates. A cruel smile twisted at her lips.
Still, she didn’t press her grandfather, who was already worried about his granddaughter leaving home for several days. She only added quietly,
“Grandfather, I’ll kill her too.”
“The way to get what you want is not to say such things out loud. You never know who might be listening.”
Which meant he wasn’t exactly opposing the idea.
Adellind’s black eyes—identical to the Grand Duke’s—shone so brightly they almost disappeared as she smiled. She threw her arms around him tightly.
“Hehe, I’ll be back!”
“Yes. If you insisted this much on going, at least smile. And don’t torment the two of them too much.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“I suppose we’d have to ask others about that. My treasure, travel safely.”
“Yes!”
Adellind climbed into the carriage in high spirits.
There was a direct road from Kalchef to Viera; it would take about four days to arrive.
It took exactly four days and another six hours. Though there was a slight delay along the way, Adellind safely passed through the gates of Viera before sunset.
“Wow, finally!”
And as if waiting for the carriage to cross the gates, a large black horse blocked its path. Adellind flinched.
Through the slightly parted curtain of the carriage window, deep blue eyes stared at her.
‘How did he know?’
Before reaching the gates, Adellind had cleverly persuaded the coachman and the escort knights to pass through the shopping district. She had no intention of getting down and wandering around—she knew her position—but surely just peeking from inside the carriage would be harmless.
Yet Damian had appeared right in front of her, as if he had read her mind.
Knock, knock.
At the sound of someone tapping the carriage door, Adellind stiffened further. When she cautiously opened it, Damian leaned his upper body inside.
“Cover your face properly. Close the curtains tightly. You weren’t planning to sightsee in the shopping district, were you?”
“You already know, so why ask?!”
Her plans ruined, Adellind shouted irritably.
Damian motioned for silence and withdrew, then quickly gave instructions to the coachman and the escort knights.
“To the estate.”
Damian Krasnov, riding the black horse, stood out even with his face partially covered. Passersby glanced at the carriage as if by agreement.
“Must be some high-ranking noble inside.”
“That knight is really handsome. Maybe that’s why he’s stationed in front.”
Isn’t drawing this much attention more dangerous? Adellind thought—but there was nothing she could do from a moving carriage except sulk.
Once inside the estate, Adellind shut herself in her room in a huff. At first, they thought she would calm down on her own—but she was stubborn.
“Young Master Damian, I asked Her Highness whether dinner should be served, but there was no response.”
The estate manager approached with a troubled expression.
This employee, who had managed the Luxen estate in Viera since before Adellind was born, still stubbornly called Damian “Young Master.” Normally Damian would correct the title, but seeing the man’s tense face—worried Adellind might skip a meal—he let it pass.
“Will she be all right?”
The escort knights from Luxen exchanged uneasy glances.
Damian had always met Adellind at the gates whenever she visited Viera, so they couldn’t understand what exactly had angered her so much this time.
Damian wasn’t particularly concerned. Adellind had visited Viera many times before—was it reasonable to suddenly throw a tantrum about wanting to see the shopping district now?
This was simply spite. Since he couldn’t think of another reason, he guessed she must be upset about the engagement.
Standing before her door, he knocked and raised his voice.
“Adellind, you’re not eating dinner?”
Behind the door, Adellind hesitated. The Grand Duke or Tislin were one thing—but Damian would really let her go hungry.
“I’ll eat!”
The escort knights glanced at Damian in amazement. It was clear Adellind had put them through quite a bit over the past few days.
After dismissing them so they could rest, Damian focused on coaxing her.
“Tis is coming tomorrow morning.”
“…Why are you the one telling me? Did you talk to Tis?”
At some point she had opened the door just a crack and was peeking out with one eye, interrogating him.
“Where else would I have heard it?”
“You two don’t usually talk much.”
This time, Damian was speechless. Seizing victory, Adellind stuck out her tongue and slammed the door shut.
‘It’s not like we talk that much even now.’
There was no reason to explain that to her.
No matter her mood, Adellind finished dinner and, unusually, woke up early the next morning. Despite loving her sleep and having endured a tiring carriage ride the day before, she looked perfectly energetic.
“Damian. Tie my hair.”
“You do know you’re fourteen, right?”
“What does that have to do with anything? I can’t see the back of my own head to tie it. Hurry.”
The estate functioned almost like a vacation home; there were no skilled maids assigned to attend to the Grand Princess’s grooming. But he couldn’t entrust her hair to just anyone either. So Damian had no choice but to take the hair ribbon and loosely tie her black hair into twin tails.
It was the same style he used to do for Tislin when they were younger. Because Adellind’s demands were endless, even Damian—once clumsy with such things—had grown fairly adept.
Her jet-black hair swayed on either side. Such dark hair was common in Luxen and across northern Casedi to central-southern Parpanan, and it was a defining trait of the Luxen ducal family, which had rarely engaged in political marriages with foreign powers.
The Casedi royal family had once shared similar black hair, but after the unification into Casedi-Manorca and numerous marriage alliances with neighboring countries, black hair had become rare among them.
Even Prince Anatis, currently attending the Royal Academy, had curly brown hair close to blond—so different that it was hard to believe he and the Luxen ducal family shared blood.
“Done?”
“Mmm. Good. What time did you say Tis is coming?”
“Eleven.”
A perfect time for relaxed greetings followed by lunch.
Damian selected a book from the study and settled in the drawing room. Adellind bustled about, adjusting her appearance and making preparations.
Around nine-thirty, when the preparations for receiving a guest seemed complete, Adellind slipped into the drawing room.
Or perhaps she had something she really wanted to say.
“Hey, Damian. Are you really engaged to Tis? For real?”
“Didn’t you already know that when you came?”
Damian asked without looking up from his book. Adellind puffed her cheeks and grumbled.
“Of course I knew—but how could you get engaged without even telling me?”
“Fine, sorry. I’ll tell you when I get married.”
“That’s not the point!”
Damian turned a page, half listening.
Adellind just wanted to complain. If he humored her a bit, she would calm down soon enough. She was angry now, but once Tislin arrived, she would undoubtedly beam as if she were a different person.
In other words, Adellind simply found Damian easy to pick on.
