"I Didn't Even Light It"
I didn't even light it.
What the hell are you thinking, Ella?
"Mother," she corrected, her voice flat as she pulled the cigarette holder from her lips without a trace of emotion.
That tone was getting on my nerves by now.
Naturally, the sound of my wheelchair armrest being slapped followed.
A barely perceptible jolt spread through the Grand Duke's stuffy study, reeking of ash and burnt tobacco.
"Did Hubert know about this secret?"
"I couldn't tell even him about the spirits and the technology."
"So you've been thinking, huh. How flattering."
The smoke and sparks from the cigarette holder smoldered like Katrin's own inner turmoil.
The indifference wasn't mere aloofness; it was something I could read in an instant. The frustration that had been gnawing at me for months surged back.
"But now that you know, Hubert will soon enough. Following Lusarb's way, eventually."
"You told me to do that, Ella. You talk big, but the actual work is all on me."
"What of it? Lusarbians are comfortable with money. You know that, Katrin."
"Don't you dare bring up my bloodline like that."
Katrin's hand tightened on the wheelchair armrest.
In noble society, those words meant "You're a lowly immigrant who makes money, huh?" "You bitch!"
A dry cough exploded from her throat. The cigarette finally slipped from her fingers.
The exchange between mother and daughter felt like thin ice. Perhaps it was the conversation of a Grand Duchess and a Grand Duchess's daughter instead.
So I quietly chewed over the tension while she kept muttering nonsense about what to say.
"Remember our relationship. You are the daughter I gave birth to with my own chest."
"Spare me the empty words. So you had a reason to show that to Gert?"
Opposite to her words, Katrin's hand gripped the armrest tighter.
The dry cough burst out again. The cigarette smoke drifted meaninglessly.
"Even if you're going into exile, it's my son you gave birth to. What do you think your own uncle is?"
"A commoner. Disgusting."
"Yet you yourself have been taking care of commoners. Your own nephew."
"Silence."
The hand that had been gripping the armrest had turned white with force.
The only words Katrin could manage were "Stop exaggerating."
The dry chuckle brought a whiff of tobacco.
"No matter what, you all must know about that technology. For your ambition too."
"My ambition? What nonsense, Ella. Yours is the one—"
"I know you want to become a Grand Duchess."
This was a blunt truth no noble would ever utter.
Ella switched instantly from her gentle tone to a surgeon's scalpel.
Her tongue wove the words smoothly, like a doctor handling a blade with expertise.
"I can grant you the seat of Grand Duchess. For you, even that seat will be just a tool."
"Stop beating around the bush and speak plainly."
"I have to ensure the safety of the son I carried and gave birth to, and the safe hands of the boy who brought him."
"You only said that much? You're insane!"
"This family has no room for that kind of person."
Once she had twisted everything so thoroughly, it became impossible to know where to begin believing her.
When the cigarette was almost burned out, Ella flicked the last ember from her fingers.
"So tell me. Can you poison your own nephew, your uncle, your blood?"
The answer "I can" still failed to come. Yet Katrin had to force out something.
"Even... including Hubert?"
"You already know the answer, don't you?"
I thought she might say something more, Ella. But it came back to "Thank you for the compliment."
In the end, Katrin rolled the wheelchair away with the words "Enough, Ella. At least you thought it over."
Even though the cigarette smell clung to her dress, she didn't feel a trace of disgust.
That greeting "Annyeong-" was still cringe, almost repulsive.
The refreshing high from the brief break in lessons had vanished.
If it hadn't been for Moritz, I would have left the seat immediately.
But now it was acceptable to let this guy, who wandered around alone without any servants, approach me.
Even though his jaw was still swollen, his creepy smile was a talent in itself.
I traded words with Christina, who kept dozing beside me.
"What did you cram?"
"Old Empire myths in the ancient language."
"Orcish and the Empire's regional newspapers."
"Didn't you study Lusarrian?"
"What? It's not even the old Empire language."
The background noise was the sound of students being thrashed on the sports field after a fight.
If the beaten students laughed, there would be no corrective effect.
What mattered now was that Moritz wasn't teasing Christina at all.
High nobles of the Grand Duke's level didn't belong in such places.
In the class watched directly by the principal, the entire four hours were spent transcribing lines together with the clergy.
That was all the education meant.
Moritz, on the other hand, showed interest in learning horsemanship or fork use if he wanted.
A while later, while arguing with the fork, Moritz suddenly said, "Since we're going to bet, there on the right! How long can he last?"
I accepted the bet smoothly with "Fine wine. Fifty gold."
People who couldn't handle such bets from a young age were only commoners.
"If we bet on liquor, the bet becomes weird. Still, the loser lives on."
If this guy accepted so naturally, something had to be off.
The guy who beat me and still grinned while acting friendly wouldn't do that.
But I had my own reason to believe him.
That orc was my subordinate. He'd handle fifty gold without trouble.
He held until fifty-three gold, then backed off with a grudge. So the bet was mine.
After the thrashing, the orc stayed on the spot and looked around.
"Hey!"
I called out with cupped hands. The orc heard and shouted "Yes!" as he charged over.
"What? Did you cheat?"
"No. The orc's drink disappeared too."
"You damned—!"
Moritz started to say something, but the orc ran straight up the academy hill.
Good thing he came before this cursed crown prince's antics got worse.
If I already knew, what meaning did an orc like him have in Allemberg?
But right now, lunch came first.
I didn't wake the sleeping daughter and carefully lifted her in my arms instead.
If the orc or Moritz got startled, I would have said "Are we going to eat?"
Moritz disappeared the moment he got startled.
...But the servants were gone too. Where did they all go?
Lunchtime and a private table reserved for nobles were one of the privileges.
And everyone ate awkwardly in silence while the surroundings watched in shock.
My seat was the commoners' table.
Everyone glanced at me. Even the other students dared not flash white.
I felt eyes full of "They've been spoiled," but I had my reasons.
Only someone who brought a royal daughter into the Grand Duke's household could receive that gaze.
"Oh, Gert. I never thought you'd be so modest."
Even Moritz, sitting opposite, was startled and mocked. But what was I supposed to do?
Where was the noble who couldn't even feed his own daughter?
I could at least offer a little help with Christina's plate.
"You've always been modest."
Moritz's voice dropped.
"But if we reveal the origin of that delinquent, what then?"
The crown prince's snot mustache twisted grotesquely.
Ignoring it, I wiped Christina's cheek beside me.
An eight-year-old's horror was still a sight worth seeing.
"If that's the case, why not say something good about raising a royal daughter?"
"A royal daughter now? Would Grand Duchess Ella like that?"
"I do."
"That's not what you meant."
"Gambling with commoners is fine, but revealing the origin?..."
...The front was dangerous, but the person who had been harassing my royal daughter wasn't someone to listen to.
The snot mustache on the already distorted Moritz flattened further.
We stared at each other with furrowed brows like in the morning.
In the end, Moritz gave up with a self-mocking mutter.
"At this academy full of commoners, what am I supposed to do?"
Christina couldn't even chew properly.
An eight-year-old could sense tension and fear like this?
Or was Moritz disgusting? Either way, it was an ugly sight.
The words "Calm down, Christina" had no effect.
I didn't even know if the fork had gone up her nose.
In the end, I had to take out a napkin for the trembling daughter.
Moritz only said "Well done" as if he hadn't expected it.
When I wiped Christina's nose, the status window suddenly activated on its own.
[System: Heat detected.]
[System: Good that you targeted those boring nobles, but you're in danger!]
What nonsense? Suddenly danger? Seconds wasted.
The fire alarm followed. Had something gotten hot?
In an instant, fire erupted from the kitchen and wrapped around the dining hall.
My heightened senses and surging blood rushed to fill my head.
Amid the strangely slow screams and explosions, my body inexplicably slid sideways.
The plate tipped, and the same went for Moritz.
My arm had already wrapped around Christina's shoulder.
With the barest of margins... the flames surged.
High-frequency sounds that rattled the bones, heat that scorched the eyes, and electric noise that pierced the ears.
It hurt.
Pain like being beaten all over until death came.
The status window had shown me something, but I couldn't see it.
Christina?
I pulled her close. You won't get hurt.
For some reason, the slowed alarm had already rung before my legs kicked out.
My body was no longer mine.
A beat late, the pain crushed my head. Piercing pain.
It hurt. She was going to cry.
This place is dangerous. Let's go.
Water poured. Electric sparks jumped over it.
My body moved as if it wasn't mine and flung open the door.
Only then did the screams start to sound like real reality.
We ran for a long time, until someone appeared beyond the flames.
Only at the end of the corridor, untouched by fire, did the pain in my back and shoulder return.
It was hot.
"Young master—ugh—I'm scared—"
Christina's voice came through strangely clear.
For now, she was all right. My vision darkened.
Christina realized she was crying.
Why?
Ever since she lost her right eye, she couldn't cry.
Gerhardt, who had gotten badly hurt and was panting, wasn't visible.
From the start, the focus of an eyepatch wearer hadn't been right.
Dirt and tears mixed in the bandaged eye as it flowed.
Why, why was she crying?
Ever since nobles stole her eyes, she couldn't trust anyone.
Why was this so-called father making her cry?
I don't know. I really don't know.
An eight-year-old child couldn't understand why she was like this.
Thanks to enormous luck, the safe child was simply crying in her injured father's arms.
Christina didn't know that something in her head had changed.
It was the first time she could trust this ambiguous noble, and it hit her one beat too late.