“I am Haydin. Please call me Hadi.”
“Mm-hm. Hadi.”
Haydin, who normally made his displeasure plain whenever anyone shortened his name, willingly offered the nickname to Riersha without a second thought.
“…My name is Johannes.”
Once Johannes had introduced himself last and the round of names was complete, Riersha spent a few seconds studying each of the four faces, as though committing them to memory.
Then, without warning, she turned and marched briskly toward the legion commanders.
The sight of the small child trotting toward them with quick, short steps left the commanders wearing identically blank expressions.
It was, to put it plainly, a scene that was not very good for the heart.
There was nothing frightening about it — yet every last one of them flinched, as though they had all agreed in advance, their fingertips or toes jerking with the reflex.
Before they knew it, Riersha had closed the distance and was standing right in the middle of them, beaming up with a radiant smile.
“I’m Riersha. Nice to meet you.”
⁂
Meanwhile, Risideon, left alone in the study, let out a long, weary sigh.
The consent form Riersha had filled out in her careful, deliberate handwriting lay spread across the desk. He gathered the pages and set them neatly aside, then let his mind drift back to the conversation he’d had when Pernoa first summoned him.
“There is something you must do from now on, Risideon.”
“Something I must do…?”
“You already know the situation. There are very few people within this household who can truly be trusted. At this point, it is difficult to even determine how many of the Empress’s spies have infiltrated the family.”
Risideon’s expression had grown grave at those words.
But Pernoa had continued without pause, as if to say there was no need to worry.
“Fortunately, the Emperor has one more bloodline.”
“…!”
“From this point forward, we will make use of that prince.”
The eyes that spoke those words flickered with something dangerous.
It was only then that Risideon understood why he had been called here.
“You will educate the prince, Risideon. Information about the prince must not reach a single soul outside this room.”
The weight of the task pressed heavily on him. He was already anxious about whether he could properly teach a prince who knew nothing of the world he was about to enter.
At the same time, a cold clarity settled over his mind.
‘The Empress has been laying the groundwork for at least four years.’
Risideon rose from his seat and looked out the window. Down below, he could still see Riersha laughing freely alongside Pernoa, her face full of light.
The crimson of Risideon’s eyes cooled and went still.
Since returning to the family, he had come to understand with bone-deep clarity what it was he had lost all those years.
Family.
The years he had spent without it had been nothing but darkness.
‘This time.’
He would protect what was his.
He would sweep away anything — everything — that might cloud that innocent face.
Whatever it took. Without leaving a single thing behind.
⁂
House Kineart.
It was one of the most storied noble families in the Declair Empire, long established at the very heart of the capital, occupying the most coveted ground the city had to offer.
The Kineart family, which had its origins in the fertile lands of the empire’s southern reaches, was renowned above all else for producing empresses generation after generation.
Early that morning, Duke Kineart sat in the dining room taking his breakfast when his gaze drifted to a maidservant passing by with a tray.
On the tray sat nothing more than a few dry, crumbling pieces of bread.
“How many days has it gone without eating?”
“…Today makes three days, Your Grace.”
When the Duke addressed her, the maidservant flinched and bowed her head obediently, her face pale with fright.
The Duke rose from his chair, leaning on his cane. His cold, pale eyes moved from the bread to his lips, which curled with disdain as he let out a sharp click of his tongue.
Then his mouth opened, and his voice rang through the dining room like a reprimand.
“Stubborn little wretch. Like a weed that won’t die! Utterly worthless! And still clinging to life, of all things!”
“…Shall I — shall I withhold food again today, then?”
The maidservant’s hands around the tray had gone white, trembling visibly. Duke Kineart waved his hand dismissively.
It was a gesture that meant: give it the food.
“We still need it alive for the time being, so bring it along!”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The maidservant scurried out of the dining room, shaking all the while, terrified of catching any stray sparks of his temper.
The previous maidservant assigned to it had been dismissed not long ago — that much was fresh in everyone’s memory.
The woman now saddled with the task, a servant with many mouths to feed at home, privately resented her misfortune for ever being assigned to it in the first place.
“Hff… Please, just don’t make any noise.”
She drew a black key from her waist and carefully unlocked the door to the cellar.
Darkness with no end in sight.
Feeling along the wall with her fingers, she descended the stairs one careful step at a time.
It was an environment far too cruel for a young child to be kept in alone. But the maidservant quickly pushed those thoughts aside.
Who am I to worry about anyone?
Getting involved in the affairs of a noble house never led anywhere good.
After descending the long staircase at last, she let out a slow breath.
The child locked away inside was bound to a rope fixed to the wall, their movements restricted entirely.
The shock of it had never quite left her.
How could anyone do such a thing.
It told her plainly how Duke Kineart regarded the child.
The maidservant shuddered.
Cold. Merciless. Cruel.
That was Duke Berun Kineart.
She pushed open the heavy cellar door and stepped inside — then froze, her eyes going wide.
“Good heavens!”
Clang — !!
The tray slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor, the plate shattering with a terrible racket.
A chunk of bread tumbled away and rolled to a stop at her feet.
The rope lay on the floor, cleanly severed.
The maidservant stood rooted to the spot, hand pressed over her mouth, staring at the empty cellar. Then she spun around and bolted up the stairs, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Y-Your Grace! Your Grace, something terrible has happened!!”
“What is all this commotion?! How dare a mere maidservant shout for His Grace!”
The maidservant burst up from the cellar, causing such an uproar that Duke Kineart, who had been making his way up a staircase, turned to look back.
The head maidservant rushed forward to intercept her, but the maidservant sank to her knees on the floor and cried out.
“It — it’s gone! It has disappeared from the cellar!!”
“…What did you say?”
In an instant, Duke Kineart’s eyes flew open wide.
It had disappeared?
How was that even possible?
There was absolutely no way the child could have managed it alone.
On top of that, the Kineart estate’s security had always been — by all accounts, including the Duke’s own — as impenetrable as iron.
No. That isn’t the issue right now.
Duke Kineart swiftly redirected his thoughts.
If it disappeared, the ones who would find themselves in a dire position were the Duke himself and his daughter Karla — who still had her uses.
Regardless of anything else, it had fallen out of the Emperor’s favor — and yet it still held the title of prince, did it not?
The moment the Emperor learned of this, he would not let the opportunity pass him by.
The Duke snapped out his orders with urgent force.
“It cannot have gotten far! Search every corner of the estate and the surrounding area at once! It must be brought back alive — do you hear me? Alive!”
⁂
Still the early hours before dawn.
“Mmph — mmf!”
“God, you’re half-dead and you’re still this strong. Unbelievable.”
Aska, who had set out from Arachrene Ducal Castle sometime after midnight, scowled down at the boy in undisguised irritation.
The boy was slung under her arm like a piece of luggage, glaring up at her with eyes full of venom.
Johannes walked alongside her.
It had been the two of them assigned to this task — Johannes, who excelled at infiltration, and Aska, who excelled above all at combat, paired together.
“Bring him back.”
Pernoa had shown them a portrait of some young boy and ordered them to retrieve him from the Kineart estate.
With no idea who the boy was, the two of them had made their way to the Kineart household.
Even after successfully getting inside, however, there had been no way to immediately locate where within the enormous estate the boy was being kept.
After all, who could have imagined that even Duke Kineart — for all his ruthlessness — would have imprisoned a child this young in a mold-ridden cellar?
“I can’t exactly clock him one either.”
“Easy, Aska.”
Aska’s frustration boiled over into words, and the boy reacted even more sharply, opening his mouth as if to bite.
When the boy moved to sink his teeth into his hand, Aska slapped his palm over his mouth without hesitation.
“Oh, please. You’re nowhere near ready to leave a mark on me.”
