CHAPTER 29
– The Grand Plaza
In front of the military tent, a crowd of nobles gathered, all supporters of Leonhart.
They were standing near the entrance to the plaza, watching intently, waiting for Adrian.
“Oh! There she is. She actually made it on time.”
“She’s glowing again today… But did she really bring the project plan?”
“She’s far too proud to come empty-handed. Though, I’d bet it’s no better than an academy-level assignment.”
“Do you really think she wrote it herself? I doubt it.”
“She probably paid an academy student to do it. It’s not like she’s short on money.”
“Ha! That would actually make more sense.”
As Adrian stepped out of the carriage, the nobles whispered among themselves.
The rumor that Adrian was preparing a project proposal had already spread widely among the aristocracy.
Even the emperor had expressed interest—meaning everyone was paying attention.
Of course, no one had high hopes.
Adrian had no history of writing plans or proposals.
She never needed to persuade anyone—her commands were enough.
Someone like that producing a proper project in just five days was near impossible.
Everyone expected the proposal to be barely passable—or plagiarized from someone else.
Adrian, who had walked over elegantly, stopped in front of the crowd. All eyes went to the leather binder in her hand.
“What are you all doing here?”
“W-We’re here to assist His Highness and ensure the construction goes smoothly—”
“Has construction started already?”
“N-No, not yet.”
“Then what are you even talking about?”
Her piercing blue eyes swept over the nobles with arrogant disdain.
Just moments ago, they had been mocking her—but now, none of them dared speak.
Adrian had that presence—she could command obedience with just her gaze.
Despite being younger than most of them by half, her pressure was overwhelming.
“And His Highness?”
“H-He’s inside the tent.”
Adrian entered the tent.
They all assumed she would go in and rattle Leonhart’s nerves, but apparently she just handed over the proposal without a fuss.
That alone was unexpected—but then she said something odd.
“That tent is rather shabby.”
“…Pardon?”
“You’re all gathered here to support His Highness, yet none of you seem to be doing anything.”
“…Excuse me?”
One of the nobles stammered, but she offered nothing more than a cold glance before turning away.
The nobles stood there, stunned, looking at each other.
“Wh-What was that? Do any of you understand what she meant?”
“Wasn’t that a warning? We’re supporters of the Third Prince, after all.”
“Oh! That’s it. She’s saying that no matter how much we support him, it’ll be useless in the end.”
“Yeah… She’s not the type to leave quietly…”
Just then—
Rustle!
A loud noise came from the tent. Alarmed, the nobles rushed inside.
The inside was a mess. Papers were scattered all over the floor.
Seeing the opened leather binder lying there, they realized it must have been Adrian’s proposal.
They whispered behind their hands.
‘Did His Highness throw it?’
‘Looks like it.’
Leonhart had his back turned, so his expression couldn’t be seen—but the atmosphere was tense.
Eshir stood beside him, trying to calm him, but the mood remained heavy.
Rage was practically radiating from Leonhart’s broad back.
The nobles, trying to gauge his mood, quietly began picking up the scattered papers and reading them.
“…A-Amazing… How did she come up with this?”
“This… this is truly revolutionary!”
“If we follow this proposal, it won’t just commemorate His Majesty’s ascension—it’ll benefit the entire empire! Incredible!”
“Rather than just building a hero’s statue, this plan is far more meaningful. Even His Majesty would be pleased.”
“I thought it was just a trick to interfere with the prince’s plans, but what is this…?”
“We can’t possibly understand the Duke’s intentions. But this will definitely put His Highness in a tough spot.”
“Certainly. If His Majesty asks for an opinion, it’s obvious the Duke’s proposal is superior…”
“Ahem! Let’s all keep quiet. His Highness is still considering.”
One noble, who regained his composure first, tried to signal the others to be mindful.
The others, who had been loudly praising the proposal, fell silent.
Sweating nervously, they quickly changed their tune.
“…A-Hem! I mean, it’s decent, but if you look closely, it has plenty of holes.”
“R-Right, exactly. For something by Duke Yvrante, it’s… well, not bad, but that’s about it.”
“Revolutionary? Hardly. There’s a hint of effort, but it falls way short of His Highness’s original statue plan. Absolutely.”
“…”
Silence fell over the tent.
One by one, the frightened nobles slipped out.
Only then did Leonhart turn around to glare at the proposal they had left on the floor.
Eshir sighed and began picking it up.
He was genuinely impressed—shocked, even—by how well done Adrian’s plan was.
Had the Duke decided to support Leonhart?
He wondered for a moment.
After all, if the plan was carried out, the biggest beneficiary would be Leonhart himself.
“Your Highness, what will you do? It’s too well made to just discard.”
Leonhart knew it too.
The plan should replace his own. It was that good.
And that’s what made him furious.
Not because her plan was better—but because he had walked straight into her trap.
“I just wanted to build a statue of Adèle… So people would remember her…”
Leonhart clenched his eyes shut, trying to suppress the rage.
“Bring Rusfell and Owen.”
Shortly after, Rusfell and Owen arrived at the tent.
Owen sat calmly in a chair, while Rusfell hesitated, avoiding Leonhart’s gaze.
Leonhart spoke.
“Rusfell.”
“…Huh?”
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“Do what…?”
“Giving her that kind of proposal. What were you thinking?”
Owen looked at Rusfell, startled.
“You gave that plan to the fallen sister?”
Rusfell, who had already guessed the situation when he was summoned, replied in a shrinking voice.
“It’s… the Duke did it all…”
“What?”
“She did it all herself.”
Leonhart was speechless, so Owen asked instead.
“But didn’t you say you would help?”
“I just explained the magic involved…”
“Only the magic? That’s all?”
“Yeah…”
Owen tilted his head and began reading the proposal.
With each page he turned, his expression filled with awe.
“She really came up with all of this on her own? That’s… remarkable.”
“Right? I was surprised too.”
“But without your input on the magic, she couldn’t have completed it.”
“Even if it wasn’t me, some other mage would’ve helped eventually.”
At first, Rusfell had been drawn to the plan simply because it was so well-made.
He knew that just a bit of magical input could make it much better—what mage could resist?
But the real reason… was different.
The moment she started crying, his mind went blank.
That someone other than Adèle would cry like that—so heartbreakingly—thinking he might die?
It felt like finding a lost treasure.
Whenever she spoke to him casually, it made him feel special, puffing up with pride.
He worked without being asked, wracking his brain for knowledge.
He even cut into his meals and sleep to think through the plan.
Even though none of that was necessary…
The quality of the plan didn’t matter.
At that time, everything he did was simply for Adrian.
But on the second day, something changed the moment she said:
“That’s why you look like that. Eating vegetables won’t turn you into a cow, so eat them. You need energy if you want to keep doing your magic experiments.”
He had been completely shocked.
He never imagined hearing something like that from anyone other than Adèle.
“I said I’m not eating! If I turn into a cow, it’ll be your fault!”
“…Are you even a mage? You’d think I was feeding you poison. It’s just lettuce, you idiot! Eat it with meat!”
“No!!!”
“You need to eat properly to stay healthy! Do you want to collapse during an experiment again?!”
He could still remember it vividly.
A scene from the past that always made him smile—moments with Adèle.
‘But how did she know that? That’s not something any expedition member would’ve talked about…’
