Chapter 6
The count had no idea what he meant.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to…”
“Adelaide. That girl.”
The count’s mouth parted slightly.
“…Pardon? H-How would Your Highness even know of that child—”
His voice trailed off, unsettled.
Bertholdt frowned, trying to recall who this Adelaide was. It didn’t take long before he remembered—a brief mention in a report from the noble council.
“Adelaide… You mean the child the countess applied to adopt?”
The daughter of a countryside baronet and if he remembered correctly, her mother had once been the countess’s personal maid before marriage.
After both parents died suddenly, the girl had drifted between relatives until the countess took her in about a month ago.
Technically, her status was that of a commoner, but her father had held a title. On that basis, the countess had petitioned to adopt her into the family.
Of course, the response had been far from favorable.
The noble council had rejected the request, citing her lack of refinement. Though there was still a re-evaluation process remaining, in truth, the matter was already as good as settled.
No matter how modest the Eport family’s standing might be for a noble house, allowing someone of common birth into the central aristocratic society was not something easily tolerated.
“Bertholdt.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Go and inform the chairman of the noble council. Tell him to approve the Eport family’s adoption request by the end of today.”
Bertholdt narrowed his eyes, studying Killian. He couldn’t understand the intent behind such an order.
When no response came, Killian’s expression hardened.
“I said, resolve that girl’s adoption today. Did you not hear me?”
“I did, Your Highness. I simply fail to understand your reasoning.”
“Even if I hide my identity, I can’t exactly play friends with a commoner, can I?”
Bertholdt’s lips parted slightly in shock.
In all his years serving at the palace—serving Killian—he had thought nothing could surprise him anymore.
“…Did you just say friend?”
“Why? Isn’t that what everyone’s been wanting? Or should I just drop it altogether?”
“N-no, of course not! It’s just that the child hasn’t received proper noble education—”
“I know. She was utterly lacking.”
From her appearance to her behavior, there was nothing refined or graceful about her. And yet, the way she had dared to meet his gaze without flinching came back to him.
She had even said she didn’t desire something as presumptuous as being adopted into a noble family.
Ridiculous. She could only say that because she had never truly had it.
A proper family. A place. A title. He would give her all of it.
And then, he would take it all away, leaving her with nothing.
Like a child who had just tasted sweetness, only to have the candy snatched away, how amusing would that empty, shattered expression be?
At the very least, he wanted to see her kneel before him once, broken, begging for forgiveness.
That was the price Killian had decided upon for her insolence.
* * *
Before boarding the carriage, Killian’s gaze drifted toward the third floor.
A room with its curtains drawn.
The girl was probably hiding there, peeking out at him.
‘Interesting.’
Not only had he silenced the old men’s nagging, he had also gained himself an entertaining new toy.
A result he hadn’t expected at all when leaving the palace.
“Did you send word to the noble council immediately?”
Inside the carriage, Killian asked, glancing at Bertholdt.
“Yes, Your Highness. I’ve ordered them to complete all procedures by tomorrow at the latest even if it takes a while—before sunrise.”
“Good.”
Killian crossed his legs, a satisfied smile forming on his lips. He even began humming under his breath, clearly in high spirits.
Bertholdt watched him, unease settling in his chest.
“…What is it?”
“Your Highness… No matter how I think about it, that child is far too mismatched for you. If you allow me a little time, I can find a more suitable candidate from another family. If you prefer, not a girl but a boy—”
“No. If it’s not her, I don’t want it.”
Killian cut him off immediately. Bertholdt fell silent.
Killian Nachtmann, a boy who had been born with everything. People, objects—nothing was ever scarce to him. Everything was replaceable, and so nothing had ever truly held his interest.
And yet—If it’s not her, I don’t want it. It was a reaction he had never seen before.
As if that commoner girl had become something… special to him. No, it felt closer to obsession.
A sense of foreboding crept in, like the stillness before a storm.
Bertholdt watched Killian’s smiling face, his own expression growing rigid.
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