Chapter 11
It was absurd.
An unfamiliar emotion surged up, crashing over Killian like a wave.
Not only the children of noble houses—even the heads of powerful families would lower themselves before him, yielding without question.
And yet, this was absurd.
That insolent commoner girl, daring to speak of apologies to him. And worse with himself, going along with it… bowing his head.
Should he just end it now? Reveal his identity, crush this ridiculous ‘friendship’, and force her to kneel and beg until she cried?
Would that ease this irritation? He considered it briefly. But the answer was no. Even if he subdued her by force, those unwavering eyes of hers would not break so easily.
Besides, to throw everything away now would be a waste of the effort he had already invested.
And so, Killian chose to play along.
He softened his gaze. Pretended to be gentle. Harmless.
Like his cousin, Fabian Nachtmann, the one who fawned over nobles with polite smiles, playing the role of a perfectly well-mannered royal.
As he mimicked that demeanor. Adelaide fell for it without the slightest suspicion.
Killian inwardly scoffed at her ignorance, at her complete inability to discern whether his behavior was genuine or not. Outwardly, however, he gave a smile as soft as an angel’s.
It stung his pride, briefly, having to cater to a mere commoner girl.
But only briefly. Watching Adelaide, who had no idea she was being deceived, amused him.
“So I’m older than you… which means I’m your older sister, right?”
And so, instead of getting angry at the ridiculous claim made over a mere one-year age difference.
“We agreed to be friends, didn’t we? Isn’t it strange to start worrying about age between friends?”
He gave the kind of slippery answer that Fabian himself might have used.
“…Is that so?”
Adelaide nodded, reluctantly convinced.
Watching her, Killian felt an odd flicker of satisfaction. Instead of crushing her with power, to deceive her with carefully chosen words and gestures, that, too, was entertaining in its own way.
A girl who grew angry at her own whim, calmed down at her own whim, and forgave him just as easily.
To Killian, Adelaide was nothing more than a living toy.
* * *
Downstairs, Count Eport had been pacing anxiously, his eyes fixed on the clock.
When the time came, he hurried toward Adelaide’s room. His steps were so quick it almost looked as though he were running, completely lacking in dignity.
His neatly arranged clothes had fallen into disarray, but he paid it no mind. His thoughts were consumed entirely by one thing—
Killian.
Why had the crown prince chosen Adelaide as his playmate? The swift approval of her adoption was something to be grateful for, but Killian was a double-edged sword.
A blade so sharp that whichever way it swung, it would inevitably draw blood.
The thought that such a blade was now pointed toward his household made cold sweat gather along the count’s jaw.
With a tense expression, he carefully pushed the door open.
Killian’s interest could vanish as quickly as it had appeared.
And Adelaide, who was still lacking in noble refinement. Any misstep could easily be seen as disrespect toward royalty. No matter her intentions, everything depended on Killian’s word.
“Ah, Father!”
At the creak of the door, Adelaide turned. Seeing the count, she called out brightly. But the count’s gaze had already begun searching frantically for Killian.
And soon, he found him, seated across from Adelaide.
“…What is this…?”
The words slipped out of the count’s mouth without thought. Both children were sitting on the floor.
The crown prince—ignoring the sofa entirely—sat cross-legged on the carpet. But what truly left the count speechless was what lay between them.
“Killi and I were playing house. Right, Killi?”
“…Hm? Ah, yes. That’s right.”
Between them sat a small tea set and delicate dolls, a play set the countess had gifted Adelaide.
The countess, having only ever raised a son, had not realized that such toys might seem childish for a girl of fourteen.
But Adelaide didn’t mind. Even if they were childish, the fact that the countess had chosen them herself was enough. The only regret had been that she had no one to play with.
But Killian was unexpectedly a good playmate.
She had thought he would sneer at it, call it boring and yet, surprisingly, he played along with her in earnest.
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