MHHC Chapter 63

Adelheid

Adelheid. Désirée. Bathildis. Nürnbergian. Trembling fingers traced the signature inscribed upon the page.

The crimson-black ink had dried ages ago, clinging to the parchment like a stubborn stain that refused to fade or blur beneath her touch.

It looked exactly like a bloodstain.

Was it coincidence? That her name was 'Adelheid,' and the name written in this book was also 'Adelheid'?

'How much I practiced, wanting to call that name with a human voice.'

Valentin's voice brushed against her ear like a caress, tender and intimate. Adelheid jolted and slammed the book shut.

Even with her eyes squeezed tight, that woman's noble name seemed to crawl through her mind with suffocating persistence.

Nürnbergian—the suffix attached to the woman's name. An Aryan born of a woman from House Nürnberg.

Nürnberg had been one of the ancient royal houses, which meant the book's previous owner had inevitably been a princess.

'If we ever met, I wanted to call your name properly.'

Again, like a phantom echo, Valentin's voice rang in her ears. She shot to her feet and whirled around, scanning the space.

She searched desperately in case he had returned, but the chamber held only herself and her shadow.

The solitary silhouette cast by torchlight seemed to mock her.

"..."

A sharp thought aimed itself at her heart.

Sometimes, even when his words and actions carried hidden meanings, she'd thought it would be all right as long as the name he called belonged to her.

As long as that name was hers, as long as what he looked at was ultimately her. But now—

Now it felt as though she was the one wearing someone else's skin. Not Valentin.

"...not!"

The sudden voice outside made Adelheid's head snap up in alarm.

An argument was unfolding just beyond the tent flap.

Someone was insisting on seeing her with stubborn determination, and the soldiers were struggling to hold them back.

"I've only come to see my sister. Must I obtain your permission every time I wish to meet family?"

The sharp, cutting voice rang out again. Adelheid recognized it instantly as Charlotte's.

"However, His Grace has ordered—"

"Surely you're not suggesting that without His Grace's permission, I cannot see my own sister. I'm warning you now so you don't commit a grave discourtesy—I am her older sister."

"..."

"Or perhaps you intend to argue that it's acceptable for a mere soldier to obstruct the Crown Princess on the Grand Duke's orders?"

Strictly speaking, Charlotte was not the Crown Princess. She was merely the Crown Prince's fiancée, a likely candidate.

But ordinary soldiers sometimes failed to grasp such distinctions.

To them, the positions of the high-born often seemed interchangeable, and rumors of their impending wedding vows had spread throughout all of Denburg.

At Charlotte's threatening tone, the sound of a soldier backing down reluctantly filtered through.

"N-no, ma'am... I will inform Her Grace the Grand Duchess immediately that Your Highness has arrived."

"That won't be necessary."

Adelheid pushed aside the tent flap with her own hands and stepped outside.

Darkness had fallen long ago, but torches blazed everywhere, illuminating the camp as brightly as midday.

At her appearance, the soldiers' expressions split precisely in half.

Half looked as though their savior had arrived; the other half furrowed their brows.

That half had apparently received orders from someone to prevent her from leaving the tent.

"It's been a while, Charlotte."

When Adelheid greeted her with an impassive face, one of Charlotte's eyebrows twitched.

But she quickly became conscious of the surrounding gazes and smoothed her expression into a polished smile.

"How insolent. Surely you don't intend to refuse even a cup of tea to family you haven't seen in so long?"

"My handmaids haven't arrived yet. If you have business, it would be best to state it briefly."

"Now that you mention it, I don't see Greta anywhere."

The smile curling Charlotte's lips deepened. Simultaneously, Adelheid's fingertips trembled.

The standoff could never last long. Adelheid had no history of ever breaking Charlotte's will.

"I have news you'd be curious about, but it's not something to discuss out here."

"...Come in."

When Adelheid stepped aside cautiously, Charlotte swept into the tent as though it were her own domain.

Adelheid noticed her scanning the luxurious furnishings installed inside with disapproving eyes.

"Sit down."

Adelheid said this while slightly moving aside the book and parchment she'd spread across the table.

She knew Charlotte could read ancient Aryan, but somehow she sensed that her half-sister wouldn't be able to read the letters in this book.

The book seemed enchanted with some spell to erase its presence.

As she'd anticipated, Charlotte glanced at the table but paid little attention to the worn volumes.

"Passable enough, I suppose."

Charlotte settled into the chair Adelheid offered and delivered her cold assessment. Adelheid found herself oddly grateful for her half-sister's consistency.

Facing her beautiful older sister had actually brought a strange relief—it pulled her away from her tangled thoughts.

Whatever Charlotte read in her expression, displeasure flickered in those cold eyes.

In an instant, venom sharpened her features as she hissed under her breath.

"Though these things are far too fine for the likes of you. I should have guessed, seeing you holed up in here regardless of what's happening outside."

"...This is sudden. Please state your business clearly."

"I heard you use only one aging woman from the countryside as your handmaid. Did you really expect such a person to serve as your eyes and ears in the Imperial Palace? You didn't seem so naive when you were younger."

"..."

In truth, she'd brought Margaret precisely because she didn't need eyes and ears.

Charlotte ground her teeth in frustration at Adelheid's consistently blank reactions.

"Can you not even recognize criticism anymore? I'm censuring the fact that your abilities remain consistently, unchangingly, without a single shred of improvement—abysmal. Like your husband, who covets the throne without knowing his place."

Only then did Adelheid finally lift her gaze. At her visible reaction, Charlotte's expression turned triumphant.

"What... are you saying?"

The throne? Had Valentin ultimately been caught in the Emperor's schemes? Or was it truly—

At the shock freezing Adelheid's features, Charlotte's face finally broke into a radiant smile.

As though that expression was the garment that suited her half-sister best.

"Judging by your face, you had no idea at all?"

It would be a lie to claim she'd never sensed such currents.

But this was a moment when she had to pretend ignorance even if she'd known.

"I truly... had no idea..."

"I didn't expect otherwise. But really, where have you left Greta?"

At the mention of Greta, Adelheid's fists clenched tight. She couldn't show herself easily swayed by Charlotte's words.

Her half-sister's manner of speaking always harbored traps.

"Why are you suddenly asking about Greta's whereabouts—"

"I was simply curious why you weren't with Greta. No particular reason."

Adelheid lowered her gaze without letting tension show on her face.

She could manage her expression somehow, but she lacked the confidence to completely hide the trembling in her eyes.

"Greta left Ansgar. It happened some time ago."

"Did she?"

At Adelheid's composed response, Charlotte's face openly displayed her lost interest.

She looked down at her well-manicured nails and tossed out casually:

"Well, fine. I'll be honest. Someone saw a beggar woman who looked like her in Pragma. Doesn't that sound interesting?"

Her breath stopped. Charlotte continued chattering as though she'd noticed nothing.

"She was such a loyal creature—defying even Mother for your sake. I found it odd that you'd dismissed her from your side so suddenly. It's not as though I didn't know how you'd kept her close all this time."

"..."

"Yes, that's truly all there is to it."

The moment she glimpsed unease flicker across her half-sister's expressionless face, Charlotte realized she'd cast her line precisely where it needed to go.

While Adelheid looked away, a brilliant smile bloomed across Charlotte's small face and vanished just as quickly.

Exactly like some splendid poisonous flower that bloomed and died in an instant.

Valentin did not return until very late into the night.

Adelheid lay alone in the large bed, tossing and turning restlessly.

The words Charlotte had spat out tangled complexly in her mind, making sleep impossible.

Greta was in Pragma, looking like a beggar...

Yes, it was the central city where all manner of people gathered, so that much made sense, but—

If she'd left of her own accord, she should at least be living comfortably. Where had all that money gone?

No—why had she left Ansgar Castle in the first place?

What terrible thing had happened to force her to abandon all of this, to abandon her? Her head boiled over with racing thoughts.

"You're not asleep?"

At the careful rustling of someone entering through the tent flap, she sat up. Valentin looked at her with surprised eyes.

Adelheid stared at him silently before answering honestly.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Ah. So you waited for me all this time?"

He smiled pleasantly and moved closer, settling on the edge of the bed.

His clothes and breath carried the sharp scent of alcohol.

The banquet the Emperor had hosted had apparently continued straight through until dawn.

Adelheid realized his face looked somewhat weary. That his eyes held an inexplicable anxiety.

Valentin leaned his upper body forward and buried his face against her pale nape. He wrapped both arms tightly around Adelheid's slender waist and exhaled a long breath.

"If I'd known you'd be awake, I would have cleared everything away and come back sooner."

"Don't you have to go back out?"

"I should. I only came in to change clothes."

Why did humans love drinking so much?

He slid his hand along her spine and sighed.

"You're not drunk, are you?"

He let out a short laugh.

"If the alcohol affected me, I wouldn't feel tired. Human drinking habits—they're endless."

The laugh that burst against her nape made Adelheid squirm at the ticklish sensation, and he released her from his embrace.

Soon a servant returned carrying a water basin.

Valentin rose and removed his shirt, wiping down his upper body with a damp cloth in the dim firelight.

With each movement, the perfectly sculpted muscles of his back contracted and rippled.