Chapter 71
Adelle didn’t fully understand.
But she sensed it—maybe because she had grown up in an orphanage and had learned to pick up on adults’ subtle tones.
“From the rumors I only heard that you were sweet and lovely… but you’re rather rude, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
A burst of heat seared through Adelle’s chest and she quickly bowed her head.
I didn’t mishear.
Loving her father…?
Her mind went blank. Her chest stung.
She had read etiquette books up to the intermediate level.
But maybe from panic, her vision had gone white.
“I’ll work harder. If you teach me, I’ll reflect on it.”
“Yes, that’s right. You do understand. My lady, you must study etiquette more… How could you not even know the manners required when you meet your father’s woman…?”
Her voice was soft, ladylike, and gentle.
But Adelle could feel the thorns.
Her heart pounded loudly.
The woman stood again and looked down at her.
In that moment, Adelle felt as if she had been thrown back three months—back to when she had still been an orphan.
“My lady. When you see me, you should kneel and bow. Are you going to claim you’ve never heard that either?”
“Ah…”
Adelle barely snapped back to her senses.
Her fingers trembled as though drenched in cold water, but time moved on relentlessly.
Whether she was flustered or not, the woman showed clear irritation.
Adelle didn’t want to walk around being criticized for not knowing etiquette as the duke’s daughter.
For now, just do as she says.
Kneel and bow.
Adelle tried to follow her instructions—
but at that moment, Fabian, who had been silently watching, gently grabbed her.
Even though his touch was soft, he held her firmly.
Chopin stepped in front of Adelle.
“Young lady, that’s enough. Next time, the young miss will greet you properly according to etiquette.”
“…What?”
Chopin’s voice was polite, but there was a subtle boundary in his tone.
The woman paused, then hid her mouth behind her fan and smiled charmingly.
But Adelle saw it—
her eyes weren’t smiling at all.
“I was only speaking hypothetically.”
Her voice was bright as she met Adelle’s gaze.
That isn’t a real smile…
“See you again next time, my lady.”
She backed away gracefully.
It was Adelle’s first time encountering someone like that inside the duke’s estate.
She needed an explanation, but everyone remained quiet.
Fabian released her and said nothing.
“You don’t need to pay any attention to that young lady, my lady.”
Had she looked that upset?
Sarina continued firmly,
“Lady Letia of the Baron family… could never become the duchess.”
“…”
Among the servants, this was already a widely known truth.
Even if the difference in status is enormous…
Originally, the duke wasn’t someone who opened his heart easily.
No—except for Lady Beasirta.
Sarina thought so.
The only reason Letia was allowed to wander around the ducal estate was not because the duke permitted it, but because he simply had no interest at all.
As the servants suspected, the duke was genuinely indifferent.
Even with Sarina’s reassurance, Adelle was deeply shaken.
She said… duchess.
Adelle felt her heart drop.
She still couldn’t accept this reality.
Father… in love with someone?
Then what about Lady Beasirta?
Adelle didn’t even fully understand what “sharing love” meant.
But she was unbearably confused.
I thought Lady Beasirta was my mother… I even promised Father I would save her.
She had told Khan too.
That she would learn everything, work hard, overcome her fear of animals, master handling divine beasts—all to save Lady Beasirta.
But the woman just now—beautiful and youthful—
[Did no one tell you about me?]
Adelle had indeed never heard.
She had been left out again.
Everyone else looked as though they knew.
Only she didn’t.
“Sarina…”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I… want to sleep.”
Maybe after she woke up, someone would tell her everything had been a lie.
It was impossible… but she hoped.
The sun was still high.
“….”
Sarina slowly nodded at Adelle’s clear, sorrowful eyes. She could finally understand the girl’s feelings.
She lifted Adelle into her arms and laid her on the bed.
“Rest comfortably. Shall I sing a lullaby?”
Adelle shook her head.
“…Shall I read a story, then?”
Shake, shake.
“I’ll close the curtains. Please sleep well.”
Adelle kept her eyes tightly shut.
If she opened them, she felt like she would cry from the sting.
Why?
Why did it hurt so much?
She heard Sarina draw the curtains and the servants leave.
Adelle tried desperately to sleep, but in the bright afternoon, sleep wouldn’t come easily.
I want to see Father.
She wanted to ask him:
Have you… forgotten Lady Beasirta?
She knew it was a presumptuous question.
And perhaps she’d freeze with fear when she saw him.
But still…
<Adelle, are you sad?>
A voice sounded from the air.
It was a voice she had never heard before—too pure, too clear.
Adelle slowly opened her eyes.
A spirit she’d never seen.
A black musical note.
It looked just like a note drawn on a score.
Adelle had seen many spirits, but never one like this.
<Shall I sing for you?>
She didn’t even have the strength to shake her head.
“….”
She remained silent.
The spirit began to sing.
♪♬♩
A spirit of sound.
A type so rare it almost never appeared.
Sightings in the human realm were extremely few.
The fact that Adelle summoned a sound spirit through Lingspell was an event worthy of history.
♭♪
My ears feel… cleansed.
Adelle didn’t know—
the sound spirit was singing with all its might as it watched her slowly close her eyes again.
A song that soothed the soul, filled the bones with warmth.
Warmer than a blanket, comforting like a mother’s embrace.
A song that gently healed deep-rooted emotional deprivation…
“Snoo…”
Adelle drifted into soft sleep.
Afraid she might wake, the sound spirit kept singing.
<Do not be hurt, little one. Fate does not flow however it pleases. Life is like sailing at sea; a ship without a destination may meet harsh waves.>
It was a melody even the greatest orchestra could never reproduce.
Had such a song existed among humans, they would have gladly paid fortunes to hear it.
But the spirit felt pride in singing only for the Child of Prophecy.
<Don’t cry, my baby. Do not cry. Your tears must be saved for greater trials. Do not grieve for the swaying of another’s ship. Sweet little one.>
Spirits were mysterious beings.
They knew everything, and yet knew nothing.
<Rest peacefully. Forget for a moment. Survive ‘them.’ Only when you learn all truths may your tears fall. Our beloved child. Ah…>
Letia wanted revenge.
If she became duchess, she could finally achieve it.
[Isn’t the baron’s daughter a bit lacking to be called a proper noble lady? Hohoho.]
[Hey, stop that.]
[Why? We should call things what they are.]
Students at the academy who acted so refined in front of her—
[My mom told me not to play with you. She said if I hang around low-class nobles, I’ll look cheap too.]
The hurtful words she heard as a child—
[As expected from a baron’s daughter, your level is low.]
Even teachers scolded her like that.
[Your daughter is quite smart… for a baron’s daughter.]
Even compliments had her status attached like a tail that never left.
Meanwhile, count’s daughters or marquis’ daughters lived entirely different lives.
Even if they were less attractive than she was, they were showered with praise.
They received far better marriage proposals and attention from remarkable men.
Just because of status.
Yet the Child of Prophecy—a mere orphan—became a noble lady overnight.
From commoner to noble lady in an instant.
“Ah, hello.”
Adelle bowed with pale cheeks and clasped hands.
Maybe that was why simply looking at her irritated Letia.
How lucky do you think you are?
She resented Adelle, who was placed into nobility simply because of a prophecy.
“Have you still not studied etiquette properly?”
She spoke sweetly, and Adelle’s ears flinched like a rabbit’s.
“I… I’ve read etiquette books up to the advanced level… but I couldn’t find any etiquette about kneeling and bowing.”
“Are you… saying I’m wrong? My lady?”
Adelle spoke carefully, but Letia smiled as she snapped back.
Adelle’s face turned even paler.
Well, the girl isn’t wrong.
A noble lady did not need to kneel and bow to a baron’s daughter.
But that applied only to a real noble lady.
A fake like you.
Letia almost said it but barely held back.
Even if she generously considered Adelle a real young lady—
if Letia became the duchess, everything changed.
The lady of House Alkibiades could rewrite etiquette however she pleased.
“My lady, do you… not want a family?”
At her whisper, Adelle looked up.
“I heard you wanted a mother.”
“…”
“And yet, even when meeting the woman who will soon become your mother, you refuse to kneel?”
Adelle felt lost.
Because she still thought of Lady Beasirta.
I want… a mother.
Adelle had always dreamed of a loving family.
One day she wanted an imperial marriage, to become royalty, to form a covenant with a divine beast.
To save Lady Beasirta.
To make her father proud.
But…
Father… really…?
Lady Beasirta, what should I do?
She had never met her, but had seen her portrait.
She had vowed countless times to save her.
She was already “mother” in Adelle’s heart.
But if her father’s heart changed—
was that bond over?
No matter what, no matter how much—
“…It seems my lady intends to defy the duke’s will.”
“…!”
With that gentle smile, Adelle felt her chest drop.
That was her greatest weakness.
Tears welled up; she didn’t know what to do.
Letia had no intention of stopping.
Instead, she felt a thrill deep in her bones.
And just then—Blake appeared.
“Passing by… what on earth is this?”
Blake froze, dumbfounded.
A woman who had shared the duke’s bed for one night and forgotten her place.
And his little sister on the verge of tears.
He didn’t know what had happened, but he was on Adelle’s side unconditionally.
“…!”
Letia also knew exactly who the boy with black hair and red eyes was.
The rightful heir of House Alkibiades.
“I greet the next Master of <Crimson Flame>.”
Letia quickly paid her respects, being someone heavily bound by hierarchy.
But Blake first checked Adelle’s blank expression, then stroked her cheek.
“Sister, close your eyes.”
“…Brother?”
Confused but obedient, Adelle closed her eyes.
Blake guided her hand to cover her own eyes—
to prevent her from seeing anything horrible.
Then he looked at the panicked Letia and curled his lips.
“Y-young master… what are you trying to—?”
“If the duke kills me because I killed a woman he slept with once, then that must simply be my fate.”
“Excuse me, w-what?”
“Die.”
In the next moment—
Blake’s sword slashed across Letia’s neck.
