Chapter 3
The moment my feet touched the ground, everything felt strange—and at the same time, a little embarrassing.
I still looked exactly as I had in the orphanage: dirty and shabby.
“At least in the Panaso Orphanage, I was one of the cleaner ones…”
This place was too dazzling. Surrounded by things that sparkled and shone so beautifully, I felt like the ugly duckling in a fairy tale.
I bit my lip. There were so many people—mostly adults, though a few children were mixed in. They were lined up on both sides of a red carpet, smiling brightly.
“Please walk along this red cloth, my lady. We’ll follow behind you.”
I hesitated, but the knights waited patiently.
“……”
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Each time I moved, the people beside the carpet bowed deeply.
“Greetings to Lady Adele.”
“Welcome, my lady!”
“It’s an honor to meet you, my lady.”
I didn’t understand it, but everyone already seemed to like me—
even though I hadn’t done anything for them yet.
Their constant greetings made my head spin.
“There are so many people.”
“In time, my lady will meet them all properly and learn their names and faces.”
The nearest knight answered kindly.
The walk along the red carpet felt endless.
There were so many buildings—it truly was like a castle.
When the carpet finally ended, I naturally stepped into one of the buildings.
It looked like memorizing this place would take forever.
This particular building was blindingly white, with a very high ceiling and a huge chandelier.
There were also far too many staircases.
“There’s even a fountain inside…”
I held my breath, unable to believe how luxurious it all was.
Water spouted up in a shimmering display of lights.
A fountain—something I’d only ever seen at the park, and even then only if I went at the right time.
“Madeleine would love this.”
Right, Madeleine.
Ah.
Guilt washed over me as I realized I hadn’t thought of her until now.
“What should I do? I didn’t even say goodbye…”
What was she doing now?
I should have told my best friend about all this, even if I’d thought it was just a dream.
The thought of being completely alone in a strange place made me uneasy.
“But it’s just for a little while. We’re family now. I’ll go back soon.”
I thought of the duke’s cold face.
I hadn’t dared to ask, but something about it all was clearly wrong.
Why would an unmarried duke suddenly need a daughter?
“When I go back, I’ll apologize to Madeleine.”
I’d tell her I didn’t know what a “prophecy child” was,
that I didn’t understand why nobles spoke so formally to me,
and that I never imagined I’d suddenly have a family.
“I won’t brag about the fountain.”
Madeleine might feel sad if I did.
“Since Madeleine loves dandelions—just like her name—I’ll pick some flowers and give them to her. Maybe she’ll forgive me and give me a warm hug.”
The thought cheered me up a little.
A little later, two women approached me.
One looked older than the duke, and the other seemed about the same age as one of the older girls back at the orphanage.
“It’s an honor to meet you for the first time, my lady.
I’m Noel, head maid of House Alcibiades.”
“Hello, my lady. I’m Sarina, assigned to attend to you personally.”
“……Hello. I’m Adele.”
At my formal tone, Noel’s brow furrowed briefly, but she soon smiled gently.
“We’ve prepared a bath for you, my lady.
Sarina will assist you.”
“I need help just to bathe?”
The thought puzzled me, but I simply nodded.
I didn’t know anything, so I decided it was best to just do as I was told.
Then, a knight’s voice came from behind.
“We’ll take our leave now, my lady.”
I turned around.
They were the five knights who had risked their lives to protect me.
Even if I didn’t fully understand, I wanted to show my gratitude.
I bowed deeply.
“Goodbye, sirs.”
“I’m Michael. And that overly formal way of speaking… we’ll correct it later.”
It was the same knight who’d convinced the duke to lower his sword earlier.
He continued,
“The others will be formally introduced tomorrow.
Too many names at once might confuse you, my lady.”
The other knights chuckled at his words.
“We can’t have the lady getting confused.”
“Still, why does it have to be you, Michael?”
“Have a peaceful night, my lady.”
Michael ignored them and bowed his head politely.
But I was too stunned to respond.
“Mad Dog Michael.”
Even though I’d never been educated properly, I knew that nickname.
Michael’s name was infamous.
When I went out to sell cookies, the adults would whisper about him—
sometimes fearfully, sometimes with disgust.
The women’s faces, though… sometimes they looked almost entranced.
“Could it really be him?”
“Um… just one thing.”
“……?”
“I want to ask something.”
He was about to leave, so I quickly stopped him.
I’d said “one,” but really, there were so many things I wanted to know.
What was the “child of prophecy”?
Was the duke truly my family now?
Why did they say they’d risked their lives for me?
But what I really wanted to ask was something else entirely.
“Will I be abandoned again?”
Michael lowered his eyes slightly when he looked at me.
Our gazes met in silence for a long moment.
Violet eyes… they were beautiful.
“…Children should go to bed early. It’s late, my lady.
Ask me tomorrow.”
Just as I thought his eyes looked like jewels, he gave me that gentle, indirect refusal.
I was used to being turned away, so I said nothing.
“Then, good night.”
“……”
The knights bowed and made a peculiar gesture before leaving.
Once they were gone, Sarina said,
“This way, my lady.”
I nodded.
It felt more like a dream than any dream I’d had.
Everything was new—things I’d never seen, never done, never imagined.
Sarina’s help with my bath was almost heavenly, even if it felt a bit stiff and formal.
At the orphanage, we only ever washed in the rain or in the stream.
But here, I was soaked in warm, blue water sprinkled with red rose petals, and all my dirt washed away with some magical potion.
“The water feels… soft.”
Even the water itself felt different.
The bathtub was enormous—bigger than the dormitory I’d shared with the other kids.
Bathed in moonlight, I was treated like a fragile doll.
My hair was brushed until it shone, my body wrapped in a soft cloth.
When I finished dressing, a stranger stared back at me in the mirror.
My cheeks were flushed from the warmth, and though my eyes still held the same timid look, they sparkled with new life.
I was wearing lace and a beautifully decorated dress.
“Is this really mine?”
At the orphanage, “a nice meal” meant a bit of meat stew.
Now, they gave me soft bread and creamy soup for dinner.
It was the first time I’d ever tasted bread that melted in my mouth.
There were strange bits floating in the soup—(later, I’d learn they were shrimp)—but it was delicious.
“This is your nightgown, my lady.”
“P-please let me change by myself.”
“…Sleep well, my lady.”
Sarina raised an eyebrow as if displeased, but eventually bowed and left.
Click. The door closed.
The window was open, letting in a gentle, cool breeze.
The room was on the top—fifth—floor. A faint orange light flickered softly.
I was alone.
In this enormous bedroom, with a massive bed draped in gauzy curtains.
I struggled out of the dress, not knowing how to undo it properly, and by the time I managed, the hair Sarina had brushed was a complete mess.
“Mm, ah—”
I was scared.
The nightgown was easier to wear, but as I buttoned it, tears stung my eyes.
Why? Why did it hurt so much?
When I was done, I stepped barefoot onto the carpet—it was unbelievably soft.
A deep black rug, warm and cozy.
If I had a mother, I thought, maybe her embrace would feel like this.
“I’m scared.”
<You’re not crying, though.>
The voice came from the wind spirit perched on the window sill.
It looked like a small blue fairy.
Spirits often appeared without warning, so I wasn’t startled.
“I’m not crying.”
<But you look like you will.>
“If you keep saying that, I really will cry.”
<Don’t cry, my friend.>
“I miss Madeleine.”
I blinked, and finally a tear fell, staining the carpet.
Madeleine was my friend.
We slept together, played together, read books and shared meals.
The duke’s castle might have been better in every possible way,
but my heart ached.
It didn’t feel real.
Nothing here felt like it truly belonged to me.
Even the nightgown felt like something that could be taken away any moment.
Would they throw me out after one night?
Two?
Three?
I didn’t know how to count higher than that.
<Oh dear.>
“I’m sad.”
<Madeleine is probably happy for you. That’s what friends do.>
“I feel sorry.”
<Having something good happen to you is never something to feel sorry for.>
The wind spirit was kind.
I wiped my eyes and bravely walked toward the door.
It took a while—the bed was that far from it.
Michael had told me to sleep early,
but I still wanted to ask him something.
I hadn’t thought about how I would find him in the middle of the night.
“I have something to ask Michael.”
Standing on tiptoe, I barely managed to reach the large door handle and pulled it inward with a grunt.
A sliver of bright hallway light spilled through the gap—
but I froze.
There were voices just outside.
“So now the duke’s marriage prospects are completely ruined.”
“Well, I can’t deny that.”
“I mean, who would want to marry a man who suddenly takes in an eight-year-old daughter? Even if he’s the great Duke Alcibiades.”
The voices belonged to two maids.
The more irritated one was unmistakably Sarina.
Sarina?
I stiffened instantly.
‘Eight-year-old daughter.’
It was obvious who they were talking about.
Me.
The orphan Adele, now suddenly Adele of House Alcibiades.
“Even if it’s the Haspelt Imperial Family, they’ve gone too far.
Do they even realize how old His Grace is? He’s only twenty-five!
And now he has an eight-year-old daughter?
People will think he’s the emperor’s personal servant.”
The Imperial Family.
Come to think of it, both the duke and the knights always spoke of the Imperial Family with barely contained venom.
I instinctively held my breath.
I’d never been in a situation like this before—
accidentally overhearing something I probably shouldn’t.
“Sarina? What happened? You sound angrier than usual… I get that you’re upset, but—”
“Upset? Please. With her gone, I thought maybe I’d finally get a chance, but now—”
<You shouldn’t listen to this, Adele.>
Thankfully, the wind spirit quietly pushed the door closed for me,
saving me from hearing the rest.
