Chapter 53
‘Why am I even here?’
I thought to myself.
Blake had already warned me that I’d be meeting nobles today, so I’d tried to prepare myself mentally.
I even went to the library and borrowed Intermediate Noble Culture and Etiquette to study hard.
But never—not once—had I imagined I’d be receiving greetings from nobles while being held in my father’s arms!
‘Ugh… dizzy.’
The world spun before my eyes.
Of course, my father looked completely unbothered.
The Duke’s arms weren’t warm—they were firm and cold, which only made me even more tense.
I straightened my back stiffly, while he just leisurely patted my head. It felt nice, sure…
But still—this was way too high up.
‘So high… seriously high.’
A grand, ornate chair.
Men kneeling at the foot of the stairs without hesitation.
They were the heads of noble families, each one of them.
When I first met His Majesty the Emperor, he had seemed too young for the title—maybe six years older than Father—but these men looked as old as the orphanage director.
“Blessings in the name of the <God of the Sun> and <History>.”
“Praise be upon the destiny of <Dominion>.”
“Once again, we pay our deepest reverence to the choice of the noble <Divine Beast>.”
They offered every lofty word imaginable to my father.
And I quickly realized—
if I were only the so-called ‘child of prophecy,’ there’s no way they’d treat me like this.
“She’s my daughter.”
“The young lady we’ve heard so much about! How truly radiant—your beauty blinds me, ha-ha!”
Such ridiculous flattery.
After Father confidently introduced me, each patriarch would finally turn to me and bow politely.
No further explanation was needed—“My daughter” was enough to end all discussion.
Then again, they’d said before that there had never been a duke’s daughter born in House Alkibiades.
Every girl had died, unable to overcome the ‘curse of the gods.’
“Hello, Count.”
At one point, I bowed first, just like the book said I should.
I was happy to see Count Daruan again.
[Can you hear what the ‘water spirit’ says?]
[Yes, I can.]
He was the first noble to ever ask me that.
The same man who’d once pointed a sword at the director—and the first to speak to me with polite honorifics.
“It’s been a while, my lady.”
But even as he smiled, Count Daruan’s eyes flicked nervously toward my father.
“…Adelle. Why did you greet him first?”
“I learned it from Intermediate Noble Culture and Etiquette. It said counts outrank young ladies.”
“…”
“Was I wrong?”
“No. But you don’t need to follow etiquette.”
That had to be a joke.
Except—my father wasn’t really the joking type.
“Why not?”
“Because this is Alkibiades.”
“…”
He said it so naturally, as if that explained everything.
And I was left baffled.
What did that have to do with anything?
I was an eight-year-old girl—an orphan until a month ago—and these were distinguished heads of noble houses.
If nothing else, wasn’t this just… basic courtesy between people?
My head was spinning, but I just nodded blankly.
‘If Father says so, then… it must be right.’
Still, I couldn’t shake my confusion.
What I’d read in books didn’t match the reality before me at all.
“In the Founding Festival, the first place nobles visit is the Imperial Palace.”
But this wasn’t the palace.
Maybe in Alkibiades, the rules I’d studied meant nothing at all.
And whatever happened today—none of it would go down in history.
‘But maybe that too… is part of Alkibiades’s will?’
Count Daruan smiled faintly and withdrew.
I was so uncomfortable I could barely breathe.
Then—
“Do you even realize what state this nation is in right now?!”
A strange man shouted.
He staggered up the stairs, and our eyes met.
Something about him was different.
Most nobles looked at Father with a mix of fear and suppressed awe.
But his eyes—those were the eyes of someone who had lost all hope.
Eyes full of resignation and fury.
“If you have eyes, see what’s happening outside!
If you have a mind, come to your senses!
If you have ears, listen—to the screams of those dying out there!”
The man screamed.
He looked like someone who’d crawled out of days of debauchery and ruin.
“Your Excellency! Had you not ordered the abandonment of the Beth Gorge, the Kingdom of Sarton would not have fallen!
After destroying our ally, how dare you shamelessly enjoy this festival?!”
He drew his sword.
The room went cold.
He pointed the blade—at me.
“The ‘child of prophecy,’ too! Look at her!
Should she be sitting there now, pampered and idle?!
She should already be serving her prophecy, saving lives, not basking in luxury!
This complacency is disgraceful—intolerable!”
His words struck like blows. I couldn’t react—my mind went blank.
“If you were truly running away, then at least sell the ‘child of prophecy’ to them!
At least then, the Empire’s lineage might survive!”
“Kill him.”
It felt like being struck by lightning.
Father’s calm voice cut through everything.
He covered my eyes with his palm before I could see anything.
My heart pounded violently.
Then—shhk, ssst.
Even though I couldn’t see, I heard it—the sound of something being severed, falling to the ground.
The maids gasped softly. The festive air shattered.
With my sight blocked, my hearing sharpened.
‘That sound… Someone just died.’
What had that man said?
‘That we’re living in luxury…’
“Bring a basin of water.”
Father’s command.
I held my breath, trembling in his arms.
Then his hand lifted away from my eyes.
The scene was already spotless.
That alone told me how absolute his power was.
A servant presented a golden basin filled with water.
Father rolled up his sleeves and dipped his bare hand in.
He wet his fingers—
and washed my ears.
“…”
It had all happened so fast.
I could still faintly smell the blood in the air.
‘Just now…’
The one who obeyed must have been Fabian—there was a drop of blood still clinging to his monocle.
The nobles waiting next in line to greet us all stood frozen, stiff as stone.
Every one of them was watching Father’s face carefully.
But Father remained calm, gently rinsing my ears.
Clink, splash.
“Don’t listen to dirty words.”
“…Yes.”
I understood, but my heart still ached.
Not everyone in the world would welcome me.
‘Why?’
The air was too heavy for even tears.
‘This is bad.’
Michael thought as soon as he saw Adelle.
She looked as though she might cry—or faint.
The Duke didn’t seem to grasp how serious this was, but Michael understood.
Given his temperament, the fact that the Duke hadn’t torn the baron apart on the spot was practically mercy.
‘But the young lady…’
She must have been deeply shocked.
There was an old saying: “In Alkibiades flows a law unlike the world’s.”
The Duke’s house was that insular—and that supreme.
To insult Alkibiades carried a greater, harsher penalty than to insult the royal family itself.
Because in truth, Alkibiades was the Empire’s real ruler.
‘Eradication of the bloodline.’
Rumors already circulated that Baron Molba had dabbled in narcotics—lucky for him.
Otherwise, the entire family, up to the eighth cousin, would have been wiped out.
Three generations ago, that would’ve been exactly what happened.
Only since adopting Adelle had the Duke grown mild enough to forgo such words.
‘The young lady can’t possibly understand all this.’
She didn’t know what kind of man her father had been before meeting Lady Beasirta.
How many women he’d made cry and then discarded.
How mercilessly he’d slaughtered enemy troops on the battlefield, refusing to show mercy even to the surrendered.
Conqueror. Destroyer. Sovereign.
No word was enough to capture him fully.
‘The first word he ever taught her was noblesse oblige.’
With her innocent eyes—and her nature, so desperate for family—Adelle must see him only in a good light.
Even Michael, who served at the Duke’s side, sometimes felt a chill crawl over his skin.
For Adelle, that terrifying man was her only family, her only comfort.
Even if he’d personally washed her ears, the gentleness of that gesture might have been more shocking than soothing.
To witness death up close, and yet see him remain so composed—
that must have shaken her deeply.
But no servant dared say this aloud.
Heads bowed, they stayed silent.
The nobles did the same.
‘She needs comforting.’
Michael grew restless.
The greetings would still take a while, and the Duke clearly had no intention of ending this early—he wanted to make sure everyone saw that Adelle was his daughter.
‘When will this end…’
The scent of blood still hung faintly in the air.
Adelle, still dazed, clung weakly to her father’s coat—
because despite everything, his arms were the only safe place left to her.
“My lady.”
A small, fragile being—just a weak, young ‘child of prophecy.’
When Michael called her name, Adelle looked up at him.
Maybe it was because of his bright yellow uniform, but she looked even smaller and more delicate today.
She held a teddy bear in her arms, trying to hide her trembling hands.
Even so, her pale face betrayed her tension.
And yet, the ‘child of prophecy’ did not cry.
Completely defenseless, relying only on her escort, she looked at him with quiet trust—
even though she must have realized that his family had ties to them after the Madeleine incident with the Crown Prince.
“Michael.”
Her clear blue eyes shone like the universe itself.
All he could think was that he had to comfort her.
So, breaking protocol—escorting her alone instead of in pairs—he stepped forward.
“The words you heard earlier… you must forget them.”
“Ah…”
Adelle’s face darkened.
But she quickly composed herself and met his gaze.
“People speak ill of their rulers behind their backs, don’t they? It’s just like that.”
“…”
“His Grace has many enemies. And so does the ‘child of prophecy.’
Where there is light, there must be shadow.
The more one is praised and adored, the easier it is to be hated as well.”
Was it even right to say such things to an eight-year-old?
Guilt gnawed at him.
Michael was not good at comforting others.
He almost bit his tongue out of frustration.
‘What was I even doing when I was eight?’
He couldn’t remember.
Adelle lowered her eyes.
In her arms, the teddy bear wore the same clothes as the ‘child of prophecy.’
