Chapter 63
The butler’s shout echoed through the grand banquet hall. The gazes of the Empire’s nobles and notable figures converged. There seemed to be at least five times more people than at the Dungeon Tournament.
“That’s Princess Adela! Truly beautiful.”
“Those golden eyes, I could get lost in them.”
“Oh, she has the bearing of a goddess.”
The intense interest in the Princess was matched by curiosity about the Black Knight.
“That’s the Black Knight…!”
“The Princess' Black Knight!”
“It’s been almost two months since we last saw him. It’s been too long.”
“I still vividly recall his performance at the Dungeon Tournament. Worth cherishing.”
“Hmm, I’d love to spar with him.”
The Black Knight’s feats at the Dungeon Tournament had spread so widely that no one in the Empire was unaware, and countless knights expressed interest in me.
Wild Instinct (Lv 3) is embarrassed.
‘Instead of being embarrassed, point out anyone I should watch out for!’
The place was already teeming with strangers!
Acknowledging the belatedly activated Know-It-All and Wild Instinct, I walked along the red carpet. At its end stood the star of this birthday celebration, the Empire’s most radiant and exalted figure: the Sun.
Upon reaching the Emperor, I knelt on one knee. Glancing beside me, I saw Princess Adela standing upright, gazing up at him.
‘Isn’t the Princess supposed to kneel before the Emperor at formal occasions?’
It was a bit surprising, but the Emperor didn’t seem to mind.
“Oh, you must be the famed ‘Princess' Black Knight.’ This is my first time seeing you in person.”
His voice was robust, belying concerns about his poor health.
That he addressed me before the Princess was surprising, but I just needed to act naturally.
“I am deeply honored that Your Majesty, the Sun of the Empire, the most radiant gold, and the great treasure of Imperium, acknowledges me.”
“You received the Hamerd Award for your stellar performance at the Dungeon Tournament. It’d be stranger if I didn’t know you.”
The Emperor… looked remarkably like a kind grandfather. It was hard to believe an ambitious man like Prince Kazaks and a madwoman like Adela came from him.
“….”
“….”
“….”
An awkward silence fell between the three of us. My etiquette was flawless. This silence… was an issue between father and daughter.
“…Princess, have you come to celebrate my birthday?”
The Emperor, unable to wait, gently prodded. Only then did Princess Adela nod slightly.
“I greet Your Majesty, the great Emperor.”
“Yes, I’m truly glad.”
Another brief silence followed. After a long pause, the Emperor spoke softly to the Princess.
“…I hope you enjoy yourself, Princess.”
“….”
Adela stood silently, offering no response. Even a neighborhood kid could tell there was something between this father and daughter.
‘Right… that must be why.’
Like unraveling a thread, words from the original story surfaced in my mind. The Emperor’s death…
[His Majesty has been assassinated! Where are the Imperial Guards?! Where are the Shadow Knights?!]
[Adela, that mad Princess, has finally done it! Oh, no! Your Majesty! Your Majesty!]
[Oh, with His Majesty gone and His Highness Kazaks absent from the capital, Princess Adela will rule us with her golden authority! What will become of the Imperium Empire…?!]
Though his aging body was nearing natural death, it was undoubtedly Princess Adela who delivered the final blow.
Princess Adela was, in short, a villain like me. My kind. But on a different level. A mid-boss placed before the final boss, perhaps.
‘I’ll change the future.’
The Imperium Empire must not fall. Humanity’s fight was uncertain even if united, so division was unacceptable. …Even if it meant killing Princess Adela.
“Black Knight.”
The Emperor’s call snapped me back to reality.
“Your command, Your Majesty.”
His next words were the plea of a father with a daughter.
“Please… take good care of Princess Adela.”
“….”
What was his intent behind this? I glanced up at the Emperor’s expression.
He looked at the Princess with a face full of regret and sorrow.
His aged golden eyes, watching Adela, turned to me.
“…Your answer?”
“I shall do so.”
His expression, like a poor father sending his daughter to live with strangers and blaming himself, made it impossible to refuse.
“Good. You may leave. Please enjoy the Longevity Festival.”
The Princess immediately turned and left the Emperor’s presence without looking back.
Her action was shockingly rude and ripe for misunderstanding, causing me to hesitate for a beat.
“It’s fine, follow her, Black Knight. Please… protect my daughter well.”
“Understood.”
I belatedly followed Adela.
She strode through the banquet hall, her steps angry, as if something had upset her. She grabbed a bottle of wine from a table with her delicate hand and headed for the terrace.
In a banquet hall, the terrace meant “don’t look for me.”
‘I’m getting more curious about the issue between the Emperor and the Princess…’
I gently opened the terrace door and parted the curtain, revealing the Princess leaning against the railing, gulping down wine.
One sip, two sips, three sips. The large wine bottle was already half-empty. What was tormenting her so much?
‘She can’t even handle alcohol.’
Her face was already flushed red.
Letting a drunken Princess humiliate herself at a banquet full of the Empire’s elite could be amusing. She’d be mortified. She’d regret it. It’d be quite entertaining.
…But watching her chug wine in frustration made that urge fade.
She reminded me of… someone. Someone I’d seen in the mirror for a long time.
Like I was entranced, I approached and snatched the wine bottle.
The Princess, eyes glazed, glared at me with sharp golden eyes.
“…What? Give it back.”
“Drinking too much isn’t good for you.”
“So what? Give it back!”
She stumbled toward me, reaching out. When I raised the bottle high, she practically pressed against me, stretching for it.
No way she’d reach it. I was over 180 cm, while she barely seemed 160 cm.
Hop, hop.
Her repeated jumps were rather comical. Was this really the Princess I knew?
After over ten failed attempts, she realized it was futile and stared up at me.
“…Give it back.”
“No.”
“Who are you to decide?”
“Your knight.”
“So what?”
“Your knight.”
“So what! Give it back!”
I grabbed her arm as she lunged again, stopping her. She spat out in a slurred voice,
“Let go.”
“This isn’t like you. I really dislike you, but seeing you like this, I can’t let it slide, even out of pity. Stop drinking.”
“….”
Gilbert, despite his ruin, was a strong man. Truly a protagonist. That’s why I could hate him.
But this Princess had become so frail just from seeing the Emperor’s face. Like a woman teetering on a cliff’s edge.
I hated it.
Because I had been like that. Like ‘Kim An-hyun before Recola,’ like ‘Martin before Gilbert.’
Adela’s state was too much like mine. Her behavior grated on me.
“Hey, aren’t you giving me the wine?”
“No.”
This was kind of fun. To think I’d be playing this game with the Princess.
“…Didn’t you say you make good coffee? Or brew it, or mix it, or whatever.”
“Whatever it is, I know how to make coffee.”
At my response, the Princess said,
“…Then go get me some coffee to drink instead of wine. Make it as bitter as a graveyard untouched by moonlight.”
She ordered coffee.
***
I sighed and returned to the banquet hall. I warned her not to touch the wine until I got back, but would she listen?
‘She suddenly wants coffee. What am I supposed to do?’
Still, being the Imperial Palace, they’d have coffee ingredients, right?
I approached a maid carrying food.
“Excuse me.”
“Y-Yes, yes?! Me?!”
The maid’s eyes widened, her face flushing as she responded.
“Yes, you. I’d like to know where the kitchen is.”
“I-I can guide you! Please let me guide you!”
“…Sure.”
The maid led me with the enthusiasm of a fangirl asked a favor by her idol.
Everyone we passed—men, women, young, old, high or low status—glanced at me. Even I, ignorant as I was, could tell their gazes held goodwill, not malice.
‘So this is the image the Princess' Black Knight has among ordinary servants.’
At the kitchen, the chefs rushed out in a panic.
“B-Black Knight! What brings you here?! Was the food unsatisfactory?!”
“I’m a fan! A signature…”
“Shut up, you fool!”
This would make things easier.
“I’d like to use the kitchen. The Princess desires a specific drink.”
“Oh! Yes! Is there anything we can help with?”
“…Coffee beans will suffice.”
The Princess' order was clear: ‘coffee as bitter as a graveyard untouched by moonlight.’
I skillfully roasted, ground, and brewed the coffee beans. With a craftsman’s spirit… as if brewing life itself.
The chefs, peeking from the side, whispered.
“Wow… what’s that? It’s so black, like tree bark.”
“I don’t know… Coffee beans? That’s new.”
The head chef smacked them on the head.
“It’s coffee, coffee! A type of tea popular in the southern regions. …I’ve never seen anyone make it at this level, though. Now be quiet! Don’t disturb the Black Knight!”
“Yes, Chef!”
I poured the finished product into a thermos and returned to the terrace. Crossing the banquet hall, I drew stares, but thankfully, no one approached.
“…Princess.”
“Oh, ohhh, you’re back.”
“Haa…”
Beside the Princess was another wine bottle, rolling on the ground. The culprit was obvious. The Shadow Knights, who’d die for her command.
…Fools who’d obey even a drunken Princess' orders.
“Haha, Black Knight! By the Princess' command, remove the Hound Exosuit and relax! I specially permit it!”
She was completely plastered.
“What if someone comes in?”
“That’s why I told the Shadow Knights to keep watch! Puhahaha!”
Not a talkative girl… Did alcohol turn the Princess into this?
“Hurry!”
Urged to remove the exosuit, I finally deactivated the Hound. It did feel much better.
“Now give me the coffee…!”
“Here.”
I pulled out the espresso-filled bottle, poured it into a mug I’d brought, and handed it to her. Against the backdrop of the night sky, the steaming coffee cup was in her hands. She took a sip.
“Ah.”
Her golden eyes widened. The chaotic, drunken expression cleared for a moment.
She took another sip, rolled it in her mouth, and swallowed.
Then she looked up at me.
“…Bitter.”
“It’s called espresso.”
“Why’s it so bitter?”
“You asked for bitter coffee.”
“Oh, right.”
She took my words as a side dish and sipped more espresso. Then she sighed.
“It’s like… life.”
“….”
I had plenty to say but held back.
Adela, called the mad Princess, wasn’t born mad. She was only 17. What kind of life had she endured to become like this?
Today… I decided to protect the poor Princess' back.