52. Think as much as you want.
If the baby ends up hearing something nasty somewhere and comes back saying the same thing, I’d clap with both hands and feet, saying, ‘Well done.’1She seems to mean that she would support anyone who stands up to their bullies, even if it was the baby. Though, I am not with her in that 😅
Thinking that way, Adelen felt supportive even of her master’s childhood self. But… was the young master back then as intense as he is now?
She imagined a little boy barely up to an adult’s waist, with a round face, round eyes, and tiny fists swinging away.
Even if he was fierce, he must’ve looked adorable.
“There really must be something to inheriting certain physical traits from your parents.”
“Oh, so you were different from the other kids?”
“I was about the same age, but much taller and bigger. I was already up to most adults’ chests back then.”
So he wasn’t cute.
She erased the image of adorable baby Rakalt from her mind.
From now on, her master had never been cute.
He probably came out of the womb proclaiming, ‘I am born!’ with regal flair.
“With that kind of size, knocking down kids your age must’ve been easy.”
“Actually, that was my first fight. But I just swung the way I was taught, and they dropped like flies.”
“As expected of my master.”
Even if every war story in the world was an exaggeration, Adelen believed that when it came to her master, it was all true. She nodded, radiating pure belief.
“…But really, even if it was just kids fighting, if someone’s still bedridden from it, that must’ve been a huge incident. Did His Majesty really cover for you?”
It’s not rare for fights between kids to turn into adult affairs. And since her master came from a newly risen noble family, there must’ve been serious unspoken power struggles among the adults too.
To still be bedridden to this day—he hadn’t just been injured, he’d practically been killed. Even if they were just kids, wasn’t that too big of a deal to just brush off?
“At first, things were leaning toward a formal trial. They said I’d probably either get a crippling corporal punishment or lose my rights as heir… but then His Majesty threw himself in front of the former king.”
“Pardon?”
“During a very serious meeting, he burst through the doors and started bawling and rolling on the floor louder than I’d ever heard.”
“Gasp…”
The Crown Prince had tossed aside all royal decorum and thrown a tantrum?
“But even so, it was a serious issue for the adults. They just let it go because he cried and threw a fit?”
“He didn’t just throw a fit, of course. He poured out everything he’d been bottling up—how much emotional pain he was in, how this was actually a treasonous act meant to destroy him mentally. He claimed I had only carried out a loyal act of stopping an attempted assassination by a traitor.”
“Wasn’t His Majesty still young back then too?”
“He was. Younger than me.”
“…He really was born to be king, huh…”
Adelen had grown up in an orphanage, and that had been rough enough. But apparently the world near the throne was just as brutal—maybe more.
“He was born to rule.”
Rakalt said it like he was the one who had given birth to His Majesty, beaming with pride.
Adelen understood. If she had seen someone throw away their pride like that for her sake, she’d probably be fiercely loyal too.
“So… did it work?”
Obviously, since her master was standing here now, it must have. But she wanted to hear how the story ended.
Even if she could guess the outcome, hearing about a satisfying revenge tale directly had its own thrill.
“It worked.”
“Wow…”
“But I did get punished in a different way.”
“Huh? So you were punished?”
“Not officially. But my father was furious.”
“Ah.”
Of course—he still had to face his parents.
Apparently, unlike Adelen, who would’ve thought it was better to fight back than just take a beating, her master’s parents didn’t feel that way.
“The boys I fought with were from the families that helped create the Sigelion countship.”
“Oh. Sounds like they knew that and threw their weight around.”
“Yeah, probably. Maybe they were trying to raise a loyal little lapdog of their own.”
“But they got bitten instead. Serves them right.”
Adelen snorted with a smug hum.
Maybe her master’s father had suffered for failing to manage his child, but she hadn’t. So she was nothing but happy that her master had won.
Rakalt chuckled at her words.
“In the end, it turned out to be a great thing. If I had just behaved and gone along with it back then, the House of Count Sigelion would have always lived with our heads bowed like a vassal family to another. And I would never have earned His Majesty’s trust.”
“People with courage really do shape the world! So what kind of punishment… did your father, the previous head, give you?”
“He said if I was strong enough to beat someone nearly to death, then I was strong enough to fight on the battlefield—and took me to the next war.”
“…”
That old scar he said was from being hit by his father? That was nothing.
“He also said if I had strength to swing around recklessly, I should use it for the country. It helped—after that, any grumbling about the unresolved trial just faded away.”
“…It’s a relief you came back alive.”
“Family traits are no joke. Turns out, war suited me.”
“…Well, that’s also good to know.”
Adelen rubbed her forehead at the Sigelion family’s extreme education methods.
Was it presumptuous to feel sorry for her master every time one of his past stories came to light?
But seriously—there were too many moments that just felt inhumane.
“So you, go ahead and cause as much trouble as you want.”
“…I won’t. But I do feel a little more relaxed.”
Her feelings were a mess, but the tension did ease.
No matter how hard she might try, there was no way she could ever beat someone that badly. Which meant she could pretty much get away with anything.
Knowing she had the support of both His Majesty and her master made her feel safe and warm inside.
At the same time, she caught a glimpse of the brutal nature of high society.
If noble children, serving the same crown prince, could be that vicious to one another…
What horrors awaited her innocent baby prince, a crown prince from an enemy nation?
Adelen looked down at the baby—still blissfully unaware, fiddling with her jeweled necklace and cheerfully shouting ‘Kko-ong!’—and made a firm vow.
If anyone dared lay a finger on her baby, she wouldn’t let them off easy.
Even if she wasn’t strong, a crazy woman with her hair down, charging in rage, would be scary enough.
While Adelen burned with resolve, their carriage finally entered the royal palace.
* * *
The king’s birthday was one of the grandest events of the year.
The largest guest list, the largest banquet hall, the biggest budget. The goal was to use every possible maximum to create the height of extravagance.
And the invited guests didn’t want to be outdone, they came flaunting all the wealth they possibly could.
Clothing, jewelry, bags, shoes, carriages… Some even showed up with jewels stuck to their faces.
“Wooooow, whoaaah, ooooh…”
“Uwaaauuuh…”
Adelen and the baby both gasped in unison.
The place they had visited before to meet the king had been a residence—modest and calm in comparison.
This banquet hall, prepared just for the party, sparkled like it had been built to blind people.
Don’t shrink back among nobles. Be proud. Stay calm no matter what!
Adelen had repeated that to herself countless times…
But the moment the carriage stopped, she forgot all of it.
“Adelen.”
Rakalt called her at that moment.
“Y-Yes!”
She flinched and lifted her head. It was time—really time.
“Let’s go.”
The carriage door opened. Rakalt stepped out first and held his hand out to her.
Adelen stared at the hand he offered her. This wasn’t practice anymore. It was the real thing.
She looked straight at Rakalt, who was reaching toward her.
“Yes, Sir Rakalt.”
Calling him that, just as he had instructed, gave her a strange boost of confidence.
Countess.
It was a ridiculous thought—but for her baby’s sake, she had to raise her pride like that, at least for now.
Lifting her chin, she took his hand and stepped down from the carriage.
Hic…
It felt like the very air was pressing itself on her with intention.
In fact, many eyes had turned their way, recognizing the emblem carved into the carriage door.
“Isn’t that Count Sigelion? When did he get married?!”
“…”
To think that was the very first thing she heard.
Now, the next 10 chapters will be translated by Rumi. See you all next time ~
I’ll miss your work, Alaa! Thank you for translating so far.