Chapter 15: If Someone Hits You, Stab Him With A Dagger
“Oh, Princess?”
“Adeline… Vita? The slave princess sold to Nova?”
“Shhh… Be careful what you say!”
The sound of them whispering like rats, trying to hide, was absurd. Read the translation on itsladygrey.com.
Adeline stood at the entrance of the Hall of Glory, making eye contact with each of them before walking forward with grace, her long dress trailing behind her.
The nobles crowded inside didn’t block her path; instead, they slowly moved aside as if unconsciously parting to let her through. She walked close enough for them to observe her fully.
From the distance, Adeline couldn’t make out her father’s expression, but Crown Prince Cesare Dixon, standing at the center of the hall, was near enough for her to see every detail of his face.
Cesare stared at her, his lips tightly pressed together, jaw clenched. He looked like a prince on the edge of madness. Though he had changed in many ways, much remained the same. With reddish-brown eyes and dark, reddish-black hair, he had an appearance that once seemed kind-hearted at first glance. Now, his shoulders were broader, and the lines of his face were harsher than they had been eleven years ago. His body had grown, but awkwardly—too fast, too rigid. The youthful softness had disappeared, leaving only pride behind.
Adeline walked confidently, shaking off the memories of the past that tried to surface.
“You’ve grown, Cesare. But what should we do? I’ve changed even more.”
The walk to her father wasn’t as long as she’d expected—no one dared to stand in her way. Read the translation on itsladygrey.com.
“Father.”
The King turned to look at Adeline slowly. Her cloud-colored hair shimmered beneath the royal tiara, a golden sash draped across her, and the beautiful dress flowing behind her. If she had truly been a cherished princess of the kingdom, her appearance would have been the perfect image to enhance her value and boost the King’s reputation.
The hall was silent, save for the sound of someone nervously swallowing.
Now, all eyes were on the King. What would he say to Adeline Vita, who had appeared out of nowhere?
An old servant bent down and whispered something in the King’s ear.
The king, her father, stared at her for a long time without speaking. It was clear he was hesitating.
Adeline had been a scapegoat to stop the war—a slave, a mistress, a pawn. As Nova, the enemy nation, rapidly rose to power, the desperate King of Marma had devised a humiliating and clumsy diplomatic tactic: offering Adeline Vita.
Ironically, that was the only time she was treated like a true princess by the nobles of Marma. The success of the diplomacy hinged on presenting Adeline as the beloved princess of Marma, a symbol of the king’s pride.
“Father, who am I?” Adeline smiled. She didn’t need anyone else’s answer. Only the man who named Marma the Thousand-Year Empire and had crowned himself emperor could answer, and it had to come from his own lips. Read the translation on itsladygrey.com.
Who am I?
The king’s wrinkled lips tightened. The old servant leaned down again, whispering something in his ear. The king’s expression softened, his displeasure and impatience fading. He had no choice but to say it.
“Adeline Vita Marma.”
The only princess of this kingdom.
“My beloved daughter.”
The benefactor of this nation, someone for whom all should be grateful.
“A great martyr.”
A stunned silence descended over the Hall of Glory.
No one dared to contest the king’s words.
With a satisfied smile, Adeline approached him, lifted the hem of her long dress, and knelt, bowing her head. Read the translation on itsladygrey.com.
A lukewarm hand patted her hair, rested briefly on her shoulder, and then returned to its place.
The king and Adeline exchanged smiles as if this had all been rehearsed.
“Adeline, you have returned safely. This is a great joy for the empire.”
Someone swallowed nervously in the stillness.
Adeline turned away from the king and walked proudly to her seat, her gaze sweeping over the nobles, all of whom were now staring at her. Read the translation on itsladygrey.com.
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