Chapter 8
Ellen stepped down from the carriage, holding Gloria’s hand instead of her nanny’s, and grasping her skirt with her other hand as she walked lightly into the main palace.
That unlucky etiquette teacher may have been annoying, but since her mother had hired her, she’d proven effective—Ellen could now manage a fairly elegant demeanor even with her short arms and legs.
When they arrived at the audience chamber, Gloria paused at the door to check both her own and Ellen’s appearance. When she nodded to the attendant, he opened the chamber door.
The Emperor… the Emperor!
All this time she’d thought of him as her maternal grandfather, but now that she was about to meet him, it truly felt like she was meeting the Emperor. Ellen’s heart thumped wildly, and she gripped Gloria’s hand tighter.
Gloria gave her a reassuring squeeze, smiled once, and then stepped forward toward the Emperor.
Contrary to Ellen’s expectation that an emperor with both a crown prince and a crown prince’s son would look like a kindly old grandfather, the man before her was a handsome figure somewhere between middle-aged and late middle age, with refined features.
Ah, right—they said the Emperor married young.
Caught off guard by his unexpected appearance, Ellen found herself staring openly until she realized her mistake and quickly lowered her head.
From beside her, she could sense Gloria spreading her skirt wide, bending her knees, and bowing her waist. Ellen hurried to imitate her greeting.
Gloria began her long, formal salutation—thanking him for granting them an audience and wishing him prosperity and the Empire’s flourishing—when the Emperor’s voice came from above their heads.
“That’s enough greeting. Raise your heads.”
But… why did his voice sound so close?
Ellen reflexively lifted her head—and nearly jumped. The Emperor’s face was right in front of hers.
Barely managing to keep her surprise off her face, Ellen mentally congratulated herself.
Well done, me!
“Your Majesty,” Gloria said brightly, but the Emperor shook his head with a stern expression.
“Father.”
He insisted on the proper familial address with a strict look—then immediately broke into a beaming smile.
“My daughter, my dear. Since when have you been calling me ‘Your Majesty’ even when we’re alone? If you do that, won’t this little one be unable to call me Grandfather?”
Ellen blinked in disbelief.
Y-Your Majesty? What is with that goofy face? Not that it’s unpleasant to look at—you’re quite handsome—but… where’s your dignity?
“…Father. Even in front of your granddaughter?” Gloria sighed deeply as she switched to the proper term of address.
“Of course! This father plans to be close friends with his granddaughter. What do you think, little one? Want to be friends with your grandpa?”
At the Emperor’s cheerful question, Ellen glanced at Gloria, then gave a small nod.
Gloria sighed again, but the Emperor beamed. Ellen looked between them, then tried calling softly—
“Grandfather?”
The Emperor’s grin widened into pure delight, and he scooped her up into his arms.
“That’s right, I’m your grandpa!”
Up close, Ellen noticed that his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth were exactly like Gloria’s. At first she hadn’t thought they looked alike, but clearly they did.
The Emperor, too, seemed reminded of someone as he gazed at her.
“Lia… Ellen looks just like her. Even more than you resemble your mother.”
Seeing the longing in his eyes, Ellen gently reached out a small hand to touch his face. Hopefully she wouldn’t be scolded for being disrespectful.
Feeling the warmth of her tiny palm, the Emperor lightly took her hand and tapped it against his cheek.
“Your Majesty, please maintain your dignity,” came a voice.
At some point, a tall man Ellen had never seen before had entered the chamber. He resembled the Emperor, with refined features, but his face was even more sharply defined, and his build was sturdier.
“Your Highness,” Gloria greeted warmly, but the man, like the Emperor earlier, corrected her with a stern voice.
“Brother.”
This must be Gloria’s elder brother—the Crown Prince Arzen.
So alike… father and son.
Ellen truly understood the saying “like father, like son.”
“Brother,” Gloria repeated, shaking her head but obeying his correction.
After briefly clasping Gloria’s hand, the man turned to Ellen with a smile.
“So you’re Ellenoa.”
Still in the Emperor’s arms, Ellen bowed her head as much as she could.
“I am Ellenoa Quinter, Your Highness.”
“You may call me Uncle,” he said warmly.
Ellen was baffled by the overly informal atmosphere of the Imperial Family.
Wasn’t the Imperial Court supposed to be strict about titles and etiquette, even between parent and child? Was it really okay to call the Emperor “Grandfather” and the Crown Prince “Uncle”?
After a moment’s thought, Ellen decided to go with the flow—If there’s a problem, Mother will give me a hint later.
The Emperor, the Crown Prince, Gloria, and Ellen moved to the tea table prepared in the audience chamber.
The tea time was more like a full meal, with the table loaded with an array of lavish refreshments.
Ellen was torn between maintaining her composure and satisfying her appetite—though not for long, as the Emperor kept her on his lap and continually handed her one treat after another.
To be able to eat so much delicious food without losing face—what a wonderful man, this Emperor!
When Ellen beamed at him, the Emperor, delighted, handed her even more sweets. She even accepted treats from the Crown Prince, which kept both men smiling the entire tea time.
After a while, an attendant informed them that it was time for the gathering. Ellen stepped down from the Emperor’s lap and gave a graceful bow.
“Your Majesty, Ellen’s back will be burning under our stares,” the Crown Prince teased as they left.
Ellen glanced back to find both the Emperor and the Crown Prince still watching her. She gave another small bow, then quietly chuckled as she followed the attendant toward the gathering in the detached palace.
Noble gatherings were usually held in a salon or a private estate, but today’s was in the detached palace because the Crown Prince’s son was attending.
Following the attendant from the main palace to the detached one, Ellen entered the reception room.
“Ellen! Over here!”
Sarel waved warmly at her—recognizing her from their previous meeting.
Inside were Sarel, Erica, Roil, and two boys Ellen hadn’t seen before.
“Hello, Sarel. Hello, Erica, Roil-oppa,” Ellen greeted as she trotted over, stealing glances at the two unfamiliar boys. One had a somewhat stubborn-looking expression, while the other leaned back against the sofa with a bored look, observing the others.
“Hi,” she said.
The stubborn-looking boy only gave a small wave, while the bored boy just nodded slightly. Having gone out of her way to greet them, Ellen’s enthusiasm instantly cooled at their lukewarm responses.
She turned her back to them and chatted quietly with her friends about what they might do today.
Before long, the door opened and an attendant announced:
“His Highness, Crown Prince Laondelf, enters.”
All the children stood and bowed.
“Raise your heads,” came a young-sounding but confident voice.
When Ellen straightened, she saw a boy of about ten with hair identical to the Emperor’s.
He caught Ellen’s eye and gave a slight smile before taking his seat.
“Everyone, sit,” he instructed.
The children obeyed in perfect order, without the usual fidgety noise of kids taking their seats—Ellen was quietly impressed.
“I hear this is the first Paulette gathering for some of you. Since there are many unfamiliar faces, let’s introduce ourselves,” the Crown Prince’s son suggested.
Starting from one end of the table, each child introduced themselves in turn. The stubborn-looking boy was Adrian Spencer—surprisingly soft-spoken despite his appearance. The bored-looking boy was Santuk Dumfrie, whose face lit up the moment the Crown Prince’s son arrived.
After Erica’s introduction, Santuk couldn’t stop smiling, his gaze fixed firmly on her. Everyone noticed.
Erica, too, seemed to sense it, glancing his way before deliberately turning her attention back to Roil and the Crown Prince’s son.
Ellen shook her head inwardly.
Kids these days… is this a love triangle? Poor Roil.
She wondered how it might turn out. If they all became close, it could get messy.
Well, I’ll side with Roil no matter what—that’s only fair, since our families are close and he’s my friend.
Besides, he kind of reminds me of Eunho.
When Roil, sitting unusually straight, met Ellen’s eyes, she grinned at him.
After the last introduction, the Crown Prince’s son smiled.
“For today’s Paulette, let’s go to Edelheim.”
Edelheim? What was that?
Ellen glanced around. Roil looked just as puzzled. Sarel and Adrian were unreadable, while Santuk just seemed happy to be going somewhere with the Crown Prince’s son.
“Spirits!” Erica whispered excitedly—but Ellen had no idea what she meant.
I really do need to study more. I know nothing here.
As she followed the group after the Crown Prince’s son, she made a mental note.
In the carriage to Edelheim, Roil leaned over to whisper, “Elli, do you know what Edelheim is?”
“No, I was going to ask you,” she replied.
“What’s what?” Erica suddenly interjected from across the seat. Roil didn’t answer right away, so Ellen poked him in the side out of sight of the others.
“We didn’t know what Edelheim was, so we were asking,” she explained.
Roil finally replied—like a vending machine giving a drink when you push the button.
Before he could elaborate, Erica jumped in.
“Oh, that! Edelheim is a Spirit Temple. They say there are Spirit Masters there!”
Spirits… the ones I’m thinking of? Ellen was reminded yet again that this was another world.
“That’s right,” Santuk added smugly. “You can see spirits there. You didn’t know that?”
Sarel raised an eyebrow and countered, “Santuk, only Spirit Masters can see spirits.”
Santuk flushed and glanced at Erica, but she ignored him and kept her eyes on Roil.
Watching this, Santuk’s expression became oddly conflicted—uncertain whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
If you don’t know, it’s better to stay quiet and at least look competent…
Ellen gave Santuk a sympathetic glance before turning to gaze out the carriage window.
