My Child's Father is The Emperor - Chapter 11.1
“It seems you’re the one with bad hand habits.”
“What did I do?”
“First, you said you liked my chest and abs, and now you seem interested in this area too.”
Adele’s mouth fell open.
What was this man implying?
“Yes, Van, your body is amazing.”
She had indeed touched Van’s body in her dreams, thinking it was just a dream.
It was smooth, without a rough patch.
But now, he seemed to know about things she did to him in her last dream.
If this man wasn’t Van but the Emperor, then was the Van in her dreams also the Emperor?
Her mind was in turmoil.
“If you’re interested, I’m always ready.”
“No, I’m not interested.”
“Didn’t you just kiss me first and then feel me up?”
“No! It was just… my hand was trying to hug you and it slipped.”
She had inadvertently fumbled a bit, searching for the pocket opening and brushed slightly toward his waist.
Adele turned away, wrapping herself in the blanket.
“I want to sleep. Please leave on your own.”
“Adele.”
Van stubbornly wrapped his arm around her from behind.
Adele closed her eyes and sighed, feeling mentally exhausted from the tussle with him.
‘Now I feel sleepy. I think I can fall asleep.’
And with that, Adele drifted off into sleep.
* * *
Knock knock.
“Miss Ernst, may I come in?”
Yuria’s knocking woke Adele.
She sat up abruptly, grabbing the pillow.
‘It’s gone.’
Yuria looked puzzled at her reaction.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
The watch she had put under her pillow before going to bed the previous night was gone.
She had placed it in Van’s pocket herself.
‘It wasn’t a dream after all.’
It was unreasonable to think the Emperor had gone mad.
When she met Van in her dreams, he remembered conversations from her last visit.
Adele had thought of him as a manifestation of her subconscious.
If the Van she thought she met in her dreams was actually the Emperor…
‘I’ll find out soon enough.’
Adele placed the pillow back where it belonged, her mind still filled with questions and uncertainty.
* * *
Count Alvin Castellan.
He was in a good mood today.
‘She has no intention of becoming the Empress.’
Adele’s declaration was a huge relief for him.
It felt as if a thorn that had been stuck in his throat for the past four years was finally removed.
“Count.”
Someone called out to Alvin from behind.
Turning around, he saw a woman with deep auburn hair pulled up, donning a uniform.
Her deep navy blue eyes conveyed a sense of resolve.
As she walked, the sword at her waist rhythmically swayed with her movements.
“Lady Ellipson.”
Alvin raised his hand in greeting.
“Good to see you alive.”
“Indeed. But I was told there wouldn’t be a second mercy.”
“If it’s you, Lady, a third mercy might be given.”
Lady Ellipson Dreyfus was a knight.
Her involvement in her family’s estate disputes wasn’t by chance but a direct command from the future Emperor.
Ellipson had fought alongside Prince Vanhelm in wars.
On the battlefield, Prince Vanhelm was like a deity of death.
He alone decided what lived and what died on the blood-soaked ground.
And she realized.
The battle for the throne was meaningless.
If Prince Vanhelm set his mind to it, the throne would be his.
However, she never expressed these thoughts to her father because it seemed Prince Vanhelm himself was not particularly eager for the throne.
‘And yet he eventually became the Emperor.’
The reason why the seventh in line for succession changed his mind remained unclear to Ellipson.
She could only speculate with a woman’s intuition.
A dog with something to protect will even bite a lion.
“You seem happy today, Count.”
“Do I? Is it that obvious?”
Alvin was elated.
Ellipson narrowed her eyes, looking at Alvin.
“I thought you’d be worried.”
“There’s good news.”
“What is it?”
Alvin glanced around the empty hallway before lowering his voice.
“Miss Ernst does not wish to become the Empress.”
“What?”
Alvin couldn’t hide his delight.
“This might simplify things.”
Ellipson nearly punched Alvin without thinking, but her disciplined knightly restraint let her hold back.
“What’s with that fist?”
Alvin stepped back half a step, seeing her reaction.
“The count is truly remarkable.”
Alvin shrugged off his tension.
“I’m aware of that.”
“Seeing you, Count, makes one think that intelligence and perception aren’t necessarily proportional.”
“What do you mean?”
“Miss Ernst needs to become the Empress.”
Alvin’s face immediately soured.
“Wasn’t it you who provided a way for her to escape?”
“I judged the situation in the palace as unfavorable for bringing her in.”
Alvin almost jumped in what seemed like a betrayal.
“What do you mean? Under the current circumstances, it’s inevitable. Lady Velota becoming the Empress is the best course.”
“Are you really sure that’s the best solution?”
Alvin’s expression turned serious, his voice dropping even lower.
“Do you know how many people would have to die for Miss Ernst to become the Empress?”
Ellipson didn’t answer.
“The Emperor is a man who could ruin this country.”
“Why not think he could also rebuild it?”
“What, what are you saying?”
“Have you never considered that the Emperor might leave the country with only Miss Ernst and Leo?”
Ellipson moved as if she had finished saying her piece.
“Wait, just a moment. Lady!”
Alvin, looking pale, followed Ellipson.
Count Alvin Castellan was a genius.
At the age of 10, he could speak seven languages. At just 14, he devised tactics that ended the 30-year siege of the impregnable Bern Castle.
Yet, Ellipson’s assessment of Alvin was critical.
‘A fool who can only see one thing.’
