Count Fershtein’s seal was stamped clearly across the grain sacks piled high in the square. Sighs of relief slipped from the crowd of people worn down by hunger.

But soon, when word spread that the food came from the secret storehouse of the king they believed to be a wise ruler, the square erupted in seething fury.

“While we were starving to death, the king was sitting on a mountain of grain!”

The betrayed shout rang out loud enough to bring the walls down. The more hatred for the royal family swelled, the more weight the name of Adela, the surviving princess, carried.

Her act of exposing the royal family’s shame with her own hands became both salvation and a source of strange reverence to the hungry.

Leon’s eyes narrowed as he watched the people taking their grain.

“Everyone is praising only Adela.”

Leon’s gaze settled somewhere in the crowd. The large fingers holding the leather reins gave a faint twitch.

“She is the only surviving royalty, after all.”

Hardt, standing nearby checking the storehouse inventory documents, gave an awkward smile.

Her suggestion worked.

It quieted the people’s fury in one stroke, and though rare, a few voices praising Count Fershtein even emerged.

“Things went smoothly thanks to Lady Adela.”

Leon nodded at Hardt’s words.

His task was to stabilize the political situation in the Valent Kingdom as quickly as possible, so that Emperor Abarus could mine the minerals he wanted without disruption.

He would have managed to settle the people’s mood one way or another, but it would have taken considerable time. So, as Hardt said, Adela’s contribution in handing over the map to the storehouse was immense.

“…Hm.”

“Is something wrong?”

Leon let out a displeased grunt, and Hardt beside him gave a slight flinch.

“No. Let’s return to the castle.”

Leon seized the reins and turned back toward the castle, his eyes narrowing.

‘I simply cannot figure her out.’

The Adela in his memory and the one before him now were worlds apart. She was never the kind of person to speak of bearing a child.

On top of that, handing over a storehouse full of treasure at a time when the Valent Kingdom lay in ruin was something he couldn’t readily make sense of either.

It also grated on him that she said she wanted nothing in return.

‘Whatever she’s scheming, she’d be wise not to think about deceiving me.’

Even after returning to the castle, the work never stopped. Taking advantage of the Urcheka Empire’s occupation of the Valent Kingdom, various disturbances broke out along the border.

All of it was futile maneuvering aimed at Valent’s mines, and Leon had no intention of allowing any of it.

The victories of the past two years were the result of Leon’s cold-headed command, along with his shadow-like archer corps and a unit of iron-clad giants.

The archer corps, capable of piercing an enemy’s throat from a hundred paces away, held the walls, while below them the giant unit, each man nearly two meters tall, raised their long spears and carved a path.

Clad in scale armor and loyal to Leon alone, their very existence drove the remnants of Valent into a despair like standing before an immense cliff.

On top of that, he also had a secret unit he revealed to no one.

Leon, buried deep in a pile of documents, lit a cigarette, and Hardt tilted his head and asked.

“You’re smoking less than usual today.”

“…Oh.”

The cigarettes he smoked were herbs specially blended to manage insomnia. The severe symptoms plagued him for the past two years and made even daily life a burden.

So, with no other choice, he sought out a renowned physician said to have come from Pasa and was prescribed these cigarettes.

Leon turned Hardt’s words over in his mind and took a slow drag.

When he woke that morning, he was in the annex bed with Adela held close in his arms.

He slipped out before she woke, but the warmth she left behind in his arms refused to fade.

Keeping Adela alive by requesting her as a tribute was never out of pity. He wanted her to taste the same wretched betrayal and loneliness he felt.

And controlling this land was easier with Adela at his side.

‘I did not come to save you. I crushed Valent and executed your parents with my own hands.’

“……”

Leon stared down at his hands and let out a long breath.

‘Then why doesn’t she despise me?’

It would be normal for her to fear him or want nothing to do with him. From the moment they reunited, this question gnawed at him relentlessly.

No matter how destitute she became, he was the enemy who killed her parents.

“…Hah.”

Pale smoke rose above Leon’s head like a wall as he exhaled.

* * *

Most of the maids in Valent Castle were from Urcheka, drunk on the thrill of having taken over a lesser kingdom. Because of this, they sometimes treated the small number of Valent servants who remained in the castle poorly.

The mockery directed at Adela, now the count’s concubine, was the hottest topic of gossip in the castle.

“They say the noble princess offered herself as a concubine just to keep her life. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Even so, the position of Countess Fershtein will go to Lady Kasvah in the end.”

The maids from Urcheka had no doubt that Count Fershtein abused Adela to vent his frustrations.

“That’s exactly why he locked her in the annex.”

Some even speculated that Count Fershtein, who had many enemies, kept Adela close to use as a shield in place of Ingram Kasvah.

Sofia, hearing all these rumors, looked ready to cry.

“Wretched people! Not only do they dare speak of our princess, they spew nothing but nonsense.”

Adela, on the other hand, was perfectly calm when she heard the rumors snowballing.

“Sofia, what did I say?”

“You said not to worry about rumors like that. But then why did you ask me to find out what people were saying?”

“It’s easier to handle things when they come up if I know what’s going on outside.”

“Our miss should only be hearing kind words and seeing beautiful things…”

Sofia’s face filled with worry, and Adela smiled brightly.

“You’re going to cry again, our Sofia.”

Sofia quickly dabbed at the corners of her eyes and checked Adela’s wounds first. She looked over the nail marks still vivid on her skin and let out another sigh.

Adela’s face softened as she watched Sofia fuss over her. In her past life, losing Sofia so senselessly made the time she spent enduring alone twice as hard.

“They say sighing too much brings the roof down, don’t they?”

“When have I ever sighed that much?”

Adela imitated one of Sofia’s usual superstitions, which she believed in wholeheartedly, and the corners of Sofia’s mouth finally loosened a little as she applied the medicine.

Adela was truly grateful to be able to share these small, ordinary moments with Sofia again.

As the night deepened, Adela found herself glancing naturally toward the door.

‘By the Emperor’s orders, Leon was required to visit me every night.’

In the past, Adela didn’t know the full story, so she believed Leon was consumed by madness, just as the rumors said.

The act without any connection hurt worse than a whipping, and sharing her body was a horrific torment every single time.

She watched the door and waited, and soon heavy footsteps echoed from beyond the corridor.

‘It’s Leon!’

Adela threw herself onto the sofa and quickly buried her gaze in the bookshelf.

The door opened shortly after, and Leon’s distinctly cool scent filled the sitting room.

“……”

Leon settled beside her without a word and tossed his gloves onto the table.