*** *** *** *** ***
Wellington was a prosperous city. Taxes were collected steadily, and naturally, the lord’s castle should have been equally prosperous.
No, it should have been.
‘What is going on here?’
In Wellington, there was only one person who knew of Grand Duke Ludwig’s passing. That was Kafka, the acting lord who handled the duties in place of the reclusive Grand Duke.
When Grand Duke Ludwig passed away, Erich was only eight years old.
The acting lord saw this as an opportunity.
‘I need to line my pockets before the young duke comes of age.’
With that mindset, Kafka pocketed thousands of gold coins from the territory’s taxes. Even when the young duke turned fourteen, Kafka continued his unchecked greed, as no action was taken against him.
But one day, everything changed. While Kafka was lounging in bed with his lover and deep in sleep, he was dragged away, bound, wearing nothing but his underwear.
Now, his face was covered with a black hood, leaving him unable to see anything.
‘What is happening all of a sudden?!’
The glory he thought would last forever had abruptly ended, leaving him in utter despair.
‘What’s going to happen to me?’
Blinded and trembling with fear, Kafka focused all his attention on the sounds around him. Suddenly, footsteps approached from all directions—some in polished shoes, others in rough boots.
Then, a cold, official voice spoke above his head.
“The acting lord, who abused his position to fill his own pockets and mistreated the young duke, is hereby sentenced to death by hanging for high treason.”
‘No! I haven’t even had a trial! What is this nonsense?!’
A death sentence carried out in a single day—how could this be?
Kafka wanted to scream his objections, but his mouth was tightly gagged, leaving him with nothing to do but writhe against his bindings.
He had underestimated the young duke, thinking him an easy target, and had carried out his audacious schemes. But in truth, Erich was the only remaining royal in the country besides Queen Soneti. And the crime of insulting royalty was a grave offense punishable by death without trial.
‘No!’
His screams echoed only within his own mind.
As the corrupt acting lord disappeared into the gallows and the soldiers swiftly confiscated the wealth he had embezzled, elsewhere.
“With a heavy heart, I grieve the passing of His Grace, Grand Duke Ludwig Rodriguez, a great elder of the royal family and a steadfast protector of the frontier. Furthermore, I am filled with deep anger at the vile conspirators who not only concealed the news of His Grace’s passing and the young duke’s plight but also spread baseless rumors of him being a devil.”
Marianne, her earlier irritation nowhere to be seen, delivered her speech with a perfectly composed face and dramatic fervor.
“I pledge on the name of Somerset that the acting lord and his vassals who committed these wicked acts out of greed will receive proper punishment.”
Though it felt somewhat inappropriate to mention the deceased while wearing a snow-white dress, this entire performance was setting the stage for what would come next.
“…Therefore, today we bid farewell to the Grand Duke’s heir as he departs to pursue his studies in the capital.”
—murmurs spread through the crowd—
A ripple of unrest passed through the citizens who had been mesmerized by Marianne’s beautiful face at the mention of the rumored devil’s appearance.
But this unrest ended the moment Erich appeared.
“Wow.”
Into the square, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, walked a beautiful young noble dressed in snow-white formal attire.
At fourteen, he should have easily been over 160cm tall, but the young duke, malnourished and deprived of sunlight, was shorter than that. Yet this wasn’t a disadvantage. After all, angels were more often depicted as beautiful young boys rather than strapping young men.
‘They called him a devil?’
‘Isn’t this the very image of an angel?’
The young duke, white from his hair to his face to his fingertips, looked like a pure angel who had stepped straight out of a religious painting, seeming almost unreal.
In the minds of the murmuring crowd, the rumors of the young duke being a devil vanished as if washed away. And exactly fifteen minutes later, the square was filled with applause celebrating the young duke’s departure for the capital.
*** *** *** *** ***
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
Having successfully revamped the young duke’s image and installed the capable Marianne Somerset as the acting lord of Wellington, Karen leaned back in the carriage with satisfaction.
‘Ugh, but I’m so sick of carriages. Isn’t there another mode of transportation? Something that doesn’t shake so much so I can write while traveling?’
Come to think of it, she had been so engrossed in her ‘kingmaker’ role lately that she had neglected her personal research.
‘I want to create something new.’
With that thought, her mind naturally wandered to new modes of transportation that could be built with gears and screws.
‘First, using round wheels would reduce shaking, right? But the shaking doesn’t come solely from the vehicle. The condition of the road matters too. So, adding springs to absorb the impact of the road…’
The mind of a genius truly worked differently from that of ordinary people. Without much effort, Karen’s thoughts conjured up a design that could revolutionize transportation by fifty years. She crossed her arms and tapped her arm with her fingers—a common gesture when she was deep in thought.
The journey to the capital would take another two weeks by carriage. Having already traveled this route once, Karen was naturally less fatigued than Marsha and Erich, who were experiencing it for the first time. Especially Marsha, who, being older, clutched her shabby bag and began nodding off.
The carriage was steeped in silence for a long time when Erich suddenly spoke.
“…It was overwhelming.”
“What?”
“I mean, it was my first time standing in front of so many people.”
Young Erich had received almost no education befitting a Grand Duke.
He had learned to read only because Marsha read books to him, but Marsha herself was a person with little education, knowing little beyond household chores.
So, the only things he could do were such trivial acts.
Pretending to be a devil in the darkness, making strange voices to scare away enemies.
Even now, Erich struggled to properly convey what he wanted to say to Karen. Her blue eyes met his.
‘Annoying, but he reminds me of myself.’
That expression, as if enduring humiliation with a blank face.
It was like looking at her younger self, hidden in the shadow of Karla.
Perhaps that was why her tone, uncharacteristically, came out gentle.
“Erich, you already know you’re lacking as a Grand Duke. If you felt you were enough, you wouldn’t have needed to hide behind the guise of a devil.”
Her words felt like they were digging deep into his hidden insecurities, exposing them without warning.
A rare look of bewilderment spread across Erich’s face as his innermost feelings were laid bare.
Karen, uninterested in the boy’s confusion, smiled with a peculiar ease.
It wasn’t a smile born of any particular intention, but simply because she knew from experience that such an expression worked well when discussing political matters.
“But how did it feel to stand in front of so many people? Did they really look down on you and try to take everything from you?”
“…No.”
“That’s what the public is.”
The public.
The very people he had never properly thought about, the ones he would have to govern in the future, were now beginning to take shape in his mind.
To the boy, who absorbed new ideas like a sponge, Karen spoke with a firm voice.
“And what I will teach you is the art of ruling people efficiently.”
Erich knew little, but he was well aware of how much he lacked.
The boy, deep in thought, slowly opened his mouth.
“But I don’t even know the continental common language yet.”
“Oh dear.”
Karen sighed genuinely. She had already mastered several languages through self-study. To think he didn’t even know the continental common language.
But she quickly decided to think positively.
‘Well, he can start learning now. Honestly, if he becomes a king, there will be plenty of translators around him anyway.’
While she took pride in the vast knowledge she carried in her head, she also agreed that one didn’t need that much knowledge to live.
She decided to think rationally. After all, the time they had was only four years at most.
“But it doesn’t matter if you don’t know the language. A king doesn’t need to know everything. Even a genius like me can’t know everything in the world. But what you do need is the knowledge of how to handle the public as a leader and how to inspire loyalty in people.”
Her words were somewhat cryptic. Karen decided to be a bit more kind and provide an example.
“Do you know King Arthur?”
“A little.”
“King Arthur was righteous and brave. And how did his story end? The subordinate he trusted betrayed him with his wife, and the only one who stayed by his side as he lay dying from a fatal wound was his half-sister.”
King Arthur’s end was deeply tragic. Even in an era where kings had to lead wars with spears and swords, that was his fate.
“Let alone now, in a society where a strong king doesn’t personally lead every battle. Righteous and brave kings are just relics of old tales. You must remember today’s experience well. The public loves symbols and simplicity. You must lead them with those things.”
Anyone who had attended Karen’s special lectures at the academy would have foamed at the mouth and collapsed at this point.
She had a history of silencing students who asked questions by saying, ‘You don’t understand? You’ll get it if you look.’
She was neither kind nor considerate as a teacher, but with Erich, she was a little different. Even she didn’t know why.
After listening to Karen’s words, Erich pondered deeply before cautiously opening his mouth.
“Do you think I can do it?”
That was probably the first and last time Erich showed weakness to Karen.
It was the boundless anxiety unique to a boy suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar place and tasked with a monumental responsibility. But Karen’s light, offhanded response swept it away like the wind.
“You’ll do well. You’re handsome, after all. A striking appearance is a tremendous advantage.”
Karen’s response left the boy momentarily speechless, hesitating before cautiously opening his mouth.
“…Am I handsome?”
“Yes. I think you’re structurally perfect.”
Karen’s answer was consistent. At that moment, a faint blush spread across Erich’s pale cheeks, as white as his eyes.
Karen’s words struck a chord in Erich’s heart.
“Though you’re not my type.”
“……”
With that, the faint expression that had begun to rise on Erich’s face vanished like mist.
Karen, who had muttered those words absentmindedly, belatedly looked at Erich’s face.
The boy wore his usual somber, expressionless look, and Karen, in truth, didn’t care about other people’s feelings.
She had always been that way—blinded by the brilliance of the knowledge her mind produced, always chasing only what she could see.
So, when she suddenly reached out and patted Erich’s head, it was purely impulsive.
Erich’s beautiful silver hair left a soft sensation as it lightly wrapped around Karen’s fingers before slipping away.
‘I thought it would feel sharper.’
Given its metallic color, she had expected his hair to feel prickly, like needles.
But the boy’s hair was softer than most people’s, the kind of texture that might be comforting to touch when one’s mind was troubled.
“You’ll do well.”
Karen said this and crossed her arms again. Her mind was once more filled with the design for the new mode of transportation she had momentarily set aside.
As a result, she didn’t see it—the expression that appeared on the boy’s face, which had been as blank as a wax figure.
‘She doesn’t care about me.’
Even though he had grown up isolated and neglected for so long, Erich instinctively sensed that Karen’s touch carried no emotion.
Her claim to be his teacher, her journey to Wellington to find him—it was all for her own reasons, not for him.
‘But.’
Even so, she was the only person who had come to meet him.
The indifferent touch that ruffled his hair, as if petting a passing dog, left him with a strange longing.
A desire arose—a selfish wish for her to touch his hair more, to speak to him with kindness.
‘How can I make her see me?’
Erich lifted his pale grayish-blue eyes to look at Karen.
The tall, elegant woman, lost in thought with her back pressed deeply against the seat, didn’t spare him a glance.
In his eyes, she was captured—a figure of cool detachment, her mind elsewhere.
Erich’s eyes gleamed sharply, like cold flames burning with intensity.
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