“If someone hits you, stab them with a knife.”
“Pr–Princess?”
“Adeline… Vita? The slave princess sold off to Nova?”
“Shh. Watch your mouth!”
The hushed whispers, like rats scurrying in the dark, were laughable. Standing at the top of the grand staircase to the Hall of Glory, Adeline met the eyes of each whispering noble below. Then, gracefully lifting the long hem of her dress, she descended.
The nobles that packed the Hall didn’t dare block her path. They parted like the Red Sea—without even knowing why.
She walked slowly, deliberately. Giving them all time to take her in.
She was too far to read her father’s expression, but the crown prince standing at the center was clear as day. Cesare Dixon’s lips curled into a sneer. His jaw jutted forward, grinding his teeth.
The mad prince, indeed.
So much had changed—and yet, so little. His crimson-tinted black hair was still the same, as were his deceptively kind reddish-brown eyes. But his shoulders had broadened, and his features had grown sharper. The awkward boy she once knew had become a man sculpted by arrogance.
Adeline banished the flickers of old memories as she strode with pride.
You’ve grown, Cesare.
But unfortunately for you… I’ve changed more.
The path to her father wasn’t as long as she’d feared. No one stopped her.
“Father.”
The king looked her over slowly. Her cloud-colored hair, her royal tiara, the flowing white dress bound with golden ribbons. If she had been the beloved princess of this nation, it would’ve been the perfect appearance to satisfy the dignity and pride he valued above all.
Someone swallowed dryly. Now, everyone’s gaze clung to the king’s mouth. What would he say to this suddenly returned Adeline Vita?
His old chamberlain leaned close and whispered something into his ear. The king—her father—remained silent for a long time, just staring. He was clearly hesitating.
Adeline had once been a sacrificial pawn to prevent war—offered as a slave, concubine, or hostage. When the enemy nation Nova rose in power and threatened the balance, Marma’s king made a desperate, humiliating offer. That offer… was her.
Ironically, it was the only time Marma’s nobles had ever treated her like a real princess. Because for the deal to work, she had to be seen as one. Her price was her father’s pride.
“Father, who am I?”
Adeline smiled as she asked. No one else mattered. Only he—the one who named the empire and crowned himself emperor—had to speak.
He had to declare who she was.
His lips moved. The chamberlain whispered again, and the king’s tightened mouth finally relaxed.
He would say it.
“Adeline Vita Marma.”
The sole princess of this country.
“You are my beloved daughter…”
And a savior they must all bow to.
“A great martyr.”
A breathless silence filled the Hall. No one dared dispute the king’s words. Adeline smiled in satisfaction and stepped forward. She grasped the hem of her gown and knelt, bowing her head.
His lukewarm hand grazed her hair and rested on her shoulder for a brief moment before withdrawing. As if rehearsed, father and daughter smiled at each other.
“You have returned safely, Adeline. This is a great joy for the empire.”
Another dry gulp echoed.
Adeline turned and walked confidently to her place, facing the watching nobles with unflinching poise.
“Why is a patient out here?”
Cesare approached. His tone made it clear: You should be hiding away in the annex—why are you here?
Adeline paused and looked up. Their eyes locked like blades drawn.
“Princess… It’s a pleasure to meet you. When did you return?”
His fiancée stood beside him in a white dress. A girl with golden hair and large, doe-like eyes. She stepped forward to greet Adeline, only for Cesare to block her with a gentle arm.
“Princess?”
She sounded confused. Cesare spoke again, shielding his fiancée.
“I told you not to leave until you were fully healed.”
A lie. She’d never heard that.
“Don’t make people worry, Adeline.”
His dark brown eyes smiled faintly.
Worry? How laughable.
Adeline could at least understand the king of an enemy nation. Even if he’d used and broken her, he’d had a reason. Same with her father.
But this man—her so-called brother? No.
Crown Prince Cesare Dixon was the most vile, combative, and violent man she’d ever known. The righteous, generous image he showed the world was a masterful illusion crafted by his cunning.
She’d realized the truth before she turned twelve. At seventeen, when she was taken to Nova as a hostage, she had only felt relief to escape his grasp.
Not that he had ever crossed the line of incest. No, Cesare treated her like a living toy—something to torment, to ruin.
She remembered clearly. On the day she left for Nova, Cesare was the angriest of all. The explosive fury of a boy who’d lost his possession.
You’ve grown too, I see. But I’ve changed even more.
She hid the heat in her breath and offered a painted, angelic smile.
“Cesare.”
To a stranger, it might have looked sweet.
“It’s such an important day. Of course I couldn’t miss it. I only wanted to congratulate you.”
He hesitated, startled. Then he gripped his fiancée’s hand tightly.
Adeline giggled like a lark and whispered, “I missed you so much. Of everything in Marma, I missed my family most.”
A complete lie. Cesare would know that.
“Truly wonderful, Princess Adeline!”
His fiancée broke away and came closer. A fresh-faced noble girl. She blinked with those innocent eyes.
“Let me say it again. Welcome home, Your Highness. It’s strange though… Why didn’t anyone tell us about your return?”
She voiced what every noble in the Hall was wondering.
“Good question,” Adeline replied.
“Right? Is this some kind of surprise party?”
Such childish naivety.
The secret return of the princess was a royal disgrace. Adeline merely smiled. No need for further words.
“You should rest. You must still be unwell.”
Cesare urged her to leave. Adeline gave a quiet snarl and brushed past him. She had no intention of staying. Her goal was already achieved.
“You’ve changed a lot, Adeline.”
“You haven’t.”
They walked together. Cesare muttered:
“I don’t know what you’re scheming… but you’ll regret it.”
“We’ll see who regrets it first.”
Adeline walked proudly. The eyes of thousands of nobles followed her every move. Cesare and his fiancée were nothing but background noise now.
Whenever someone dared approach to compliment her dress, Adeline always replied the same:
“Marma hasn’t changed.”
The temple bells were meant to ring three times before Cesare’s engagement announcement. But thanks to Adeline, everyone forgot.
When Cesare finally exchanged vows with Lady Nord Hill, the nobles still couldn’t take their eyes off Adeline. Cesare’s face was contorted the entire ceremony, pride deeply wounded.
Time to leave.
She had no more reason to linger. Her unexpected return was now public knowledge. And she’d trampled Cesare’s pride to boot.
(The chapter continues with Adeline returning to the annex, discovering a bruised and tearful Collin, confronting Richard Selmore—her new guard forced on her by Cesare—and ending in a defiant, venomous exchange with the Lion King, who arrives uninvited to her chambers. If you’d like, I can continue translating the rest of this powerful chapter.)
Would you like me to continue from where the Lion King (Lachiel) says: “Your next plan…”?
