Chapter 11 - 011 ※ Beware the Emperor's Little Secret: Adopted, Pretended, and Still Sarcastic

Katherina Chelsea Layla Evie Hadassah.

That's the name Eirwen gave me after we had traveled together for two whole months. Not that I would've ever chosen such a name for myself, of course. It's a little much, don't you think? But apparently, it's fitting for a baby girl who was adopted by none other than the Emperor of the Asten Empire during some mysterious, long-winded journey. Dramatic, isn't it? Leave it to him to come up with something so incredibly ostentatious and grandiose. He couldn't have picked something simpler, no, he had to go all out.

And yes, as I had suspected right from the beginning, he had been traveling in disguise this entire time. But, of course, he didn't reveal that little fact right away—oh no, that would've been far too easy. It took me weeks of carefully observing his actions, catching little slip-ups in his behavior, and a mounting sense of suspicion on my part before he finally admitted the truth. His exact words? "I use a spell that changes my appearance so that others see me differently. But it doesn't work on you because you're an Immortal."

Well, thank you for the confirmation, Captain Obvious. Of course, it doesn't work on me—why would it? I'm not some average mortal who can be easily fooled by a simple flicker of magic. I've seen far worse, I can tell when someone's hiding their true identity. And when someone, especially Eirwen, tries to hide something, it's as clear as day to me. The things that mortals do to protect themselves... It's almost cute, in a way.

And most importantly, my telepathy finally manifested. Just in the nick of time, too. For weeks, I had been stuck with nothing but my own thoughts swirling around, unable to communicate beyond the gurgles and coos that are expected of a baby. It was suffocating, really. At times, I felt trapped inside my own body, desperately trying to express myself, but unable to make anything more than sounds. But now? Now I could talk—telepathically, of course—directly with Eirwen. And let me tell you, it made everything so much easier, and honestly, a lot more entertaining, too. I couldn't be more grateful for that.

After those torturous goddamn sixty days of traveling, we finally arrived at Gefroren, the capital of the Asten Empire. The so-called beating heart of his grand domain, or whatever. Honestly, I was impressed. Majestic spires that reached into the sky, glittering like ice under the pale winter sun, their icy glow reflecting off everything around them. The entire city had this ethereal beauty to it, like something out of a dream. It was the kind of place that would make lesser people feel small, insignificant, even inferior to the overwhelming grandeur around them. But me? Well, I've lived countless lifetimes. I've seen grandeur that would make this place look like a child's playhouse in comparison. It was impressive, yes, but not as awe-inspiring as it was for everyone else.

The city sprawled before me in all its glory, the towering structures seeming to stretch far beyond what I thought was possible. Crystal-clear rivers wound between the buildings, their frozen surfaces glistening like mirrors. The air was cold, biting, but there was something else to it—something almost mystical, as if the city itself was alive, pulsing with power. It was a place that exuded dominance, and no one would dare forget that it was the heart of the Asten Empire.

We entered the palace through the back door, of course, carefully avoiding all the spectacle and grandeur that would accompany a royal return. Not that Eirwen wasn't welcome—far from it—but the fact of the matter was that he had been on a long, secret mission. Discretion was absolutely key here. There was no need to stir up unnecessary attention. The last thing he needed was an entourage of people buzzing around him, questioning every move he made. No, this was about avoiding the spotlight for now.

["We'll do as we agreed,"] I spoke to him in my telepathic voice, cutting through the silence as we moved swiftly through the shadowed corridors of the palace. The palace was vast, its walls made of the most exquisite stone and marble, its floors polished to a mirror-like shine. Despite all the opulence around me, I could still focus on the task at hand. ["You'll leave me with a nanny, and then you'll spend time with your real kids. Most importantly, with your heir, since he's the one who's met you before your journey and must be missing you the most."]

He glanced at me, his expression amused, as always. ["Mm-hmm, you're right,"] he said with a casual shrug. ["I have to spend some time with them. I'll officially introduce you to them in a few days, okay?"]

["Oh, come on, Eirwen boy, no need to rush,"] I scoffed, letting the sarcasm drip from my tone. ["I won't miss you, don't worry about it."]

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as though I'd just struck a mortal blow. ["Eirwen boy, my ass. Even if we count your real age, I'm still six years older. And ouch... that hurts, you know."]

I couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. Eirwen was nothing if not theatrical. He gave me one of those smiles, the kind that was clearly meant to provoke, and I couldn't resist the urge to return his playfulness.

["Haha, what a joke,"] I retorted, my voice dripping with amusement. ["If you count my real age in human years, I'd be much older than you."]

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. ["Says the one who's stuck in a baby's body."]

["Haha..."] I rolled my eyes, not bothering to hide my exasperation. ["You just can't let it go, can you?"]

["Anyway, no one would believe you,"] he continued, puffing up his chest like some smug peacock. ["So, I'm still the older one in everyone's eyes."]

["You're an idiot, that's what you are,"] I shot back, unable to resist another jab.

["I miss the days when you couldn't talk at all,"] he said with a theatrical sigh, pretending to be on the verge of tears.

["So funny. I remember you being so anxious about the day I would start talking. You can't go back now,"] I replied, grinning smugly at the memory.

["I regret that day,"] he fake-cried, wiping away invisible tears. His exaggerated theatrics only made me laugh harder.

["And that's because I'm not even really talking,"] I pointed out with a teasing grin, feeling victorious.

Before our banter could escalate any further, a voice broke through the lighthearted exchange.

"Greetings, Your Majesty, the Emperor! Did you call for me?"

The woman who spoke was in her late fifties. She stood straight, her posture proud and respectful as she bowed low before him. Her voice was formal, but there was something about it—a warmth, a familiarity—that suggested a long-standing connection between the two of them.

It was strange to see. After two months of traveling together, I had become so accustomed to Eirwen just being Eirwen to me. But here, in the grandiose palace, he wasn't just Eirwen. He was the Emperor—a powerful figure of authority, influence, and reverence. It was almost surreal.

"You can raise your head, McRae," Eirwen said, his voice steady and commanding. "And yes, I called you here. I trust you with my life because you're the one who raised me after my mother died when I was just a little kid. So, I'm trusting you with Evie. She's my new daughter. I adopted her on my journey. Now she's a Hadassah, too."

Oh, so she was his nanny? And now she would be mine, too? What an honor, really. Whether I took Eirwen seriously or not, I couldn't deny the fact that he was, in the grand scheme of things, the Emperor. He had an air of authority, no doubt about it. The way he moved through the palace, how his mere presence commanded attention—it was both impressive and somewhat intimidating.

"Neither the Empress, the Queens, nor my children know about her yet," Eirwen continued, his tone calm and deliberate. "I opted to spend time with them first before announcing the existence of the new princess. That's why I called you here—to be her nanny. She's exactly ten months old, but she's a very energetic and clever child. And I trust that you'll keep this a secret for now."

Well, well, well, Eirwen did know how to sweet-talk someone after all. What a surprise. But honestly, I think I'm one of the very few people who truly know the extent of his true nature. His polished words didn't fool me in the slightest. Beneath that Emperor's facade, I saw the complexities of who he truly was—complex, layered, and not as perfect as everyone around him seemed to think.

Still, I had to admit—watching him navigate between his dual roles as Emperor and, well, my fake adoptive father... was far more entertaining than I had expected. The complexities of it all were genuinely fascinating. How could someone maintain so many different personas at once?