KFBRV Ch 51
- Jan 28
- 6 min read
[Ferdinand] "What is taking you so long? …And you, what are you doing in that dress?"
Zion was expected to arrive with Karl at any moment. When Odette failed to appear, Ferdinand came to find her himself.
[Odette] "Mother gave it to me as a gift. How does it look to you, Brother?"
She offered him a radiant, innocent smile, as if she were completely unaware of the tension she was causing. He ground his teeth, his voice a low, savage growl.
[Ferdinand] "Tsk… That damned woman."
[Odette] "You don’t like it. If it displeases you, Brother, I’ll go change immediately. You are far more important to me than Mother is."
Perhaps because of his ongoing cold war with the Countess, his frustration seemed to melt at her words. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
[Ferdinand] "Phew, forget it. It’s almost time. We can’t afford to be late and risk getting on the Marquis' bad side."
He remained blissfully unaware that Zion was playing him like a fiddle.
How pathetic. He acts like a tyrant at home, yet he grovels like a beaten dog before Zion.
[Odette] "You’re right. You are always so wise, Brother."
She had intentionally delayed her arrival until the very last second.
She loved the dress and had no intention of changing out of it. With a feigned look of apology, she lowered her gaze and followed Ferdinand down to the garden.
A carriage soon rolled into the estate grounds. It was a sleek, black luxury coach embossed with the Kleist family crest, followed closely by a heavy prison wagon.
[Ulrich] "Do exactly as we practiced yesterday. Aside from basic greetings, act as you normally would. If you utter one wrong word… well, you know the consequences."
He fixed her with a sharp, hawkish glare, repeating the warning he had already given her a dozen times.
[Odette] "Yes, I understand, Father."
She adopted a cold, arrogant expression, looking every bit the haughty doll her family expected. She knew exactly what her father wanted to see.
In her previous life, she had performed this same act of the "villainous lady" when Karl arrived. She was, in a sense, a seasoned veteran of this particular role.
The Count finally turned his attention toward the approaching carriages.
It suits my purposes anyway. I have no desire for Karl to see how insignificant my position is in this house.
There was no advantage in letting him witness how poorly she was treated in this wretched place. She wanted him to see her as the cherished, only daughter of the Albrecht family—a master he could not dare to touch.
The luxury carriage came to a halt. She stood perfectly still, just as the Count had ordered.
This was a formal meeting between heads of households, and etiquette dictated that the lords greet each other first. However, something unexpected happened.
[Ferdinand] "You’ve arrived, Your Excellency!"
Before the Marquis and the Count could even exchange a word, he dashed forward like a puppy with its tail on fire. In his haste, he bowed deeply before Zion had even stepped down from the carriage.
The garden fell into a sudden, embarrassed silence at the unsightly display. Even the usually dignified Count seemed at a loss for words.
[Zion] "How vulgar."
He smirked as he spoke. Normally, a noble might accept such a greeting to preserve the other’s dignity in front of the servants, but he was not a normal man.
His personality is far too rotten for that.
[Zion] "Move. Don’t block my path, you worthless wretch."
True to his reputation as a man with zero character, he kicked Ferdinand’s shin as he stepped gracefully out of the carriage.
It was a stark contrast to Ferdinand, whose face turned a violent shade of red as he limped backward. Even then, her brother didn't dare protest for fear of losing his chance to become the Prince Consort; instead, he offered a groveling, hideous smile.
[Ulrich] "Ahem. Your Excellency. I trust your journey was comfortable?"
The Count managed to regain his composure, hiding his humiliation behind a mask of gravity.
[Zion] "It was dreadful. What kind of pleasant history do I have with you that would make a journey here comfortable?"
He chuckled and, in a blatant display of disrespect, lit a cigar right in the Count’s face.
It was a deliberate attempt to trample on the man's pride. It was exactly like the Zion she knew—a man who acted like a demon even when negotiating from a position of weakness.
Beside the Count, Ferdinand—still limping—hurried to light the end of Zion’s cigar like a common servant. Because Zion was nearly a head taller, he had to stand on his tiptoes to reach.
Odette watched the farce as if it were someone else's problem until Zion’s eyes found hers.
[Zion] "Hello, Lady Albrecht."
He exhaled a plume of cigar smoke and smiled. Every eye in the garden—from the lined-up servants to the Count and Ferdinand—snapped toward her.
What is he doing? We parted ways last time with him hurling insults at me.
[Odette] "Greetings, Your Excellency."
She curtsied according to the rules of etiquette.
Instead of simply acknowledging her, he strode toward her with long, confident steps. He took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of her glove.
What is this? Some new form of harassment?
She was relieved she had worn gloves.
[Zion] "To think you’d beg me for that foreigner. Is that man really your type?"
He whispered the words so only she could hear. One corner of his mouth was curled upward in a clear attempt to provoke her.
Of course, no matter what nonsense he spewed, she couldn't reply in a whisper. Her father would surely interrogate her later, demanding to know what they had discussed. Even now, the Count was glaring at her with eyes that promised death if she said anything foolish.
She immediately began her performance. She let out the high, trilling laugh of a quintessential villainess, her eyes gleaming with artificial greed.
[Odette] "Of course, Your Excellency. Isn't he beautiful? There is only one member of the Fenrir clan left, after all. The rarest things should naturally belong to me, shouldn't they?"
She stole a glance at the Count. To her relief, a faint, ugly smile of satisfaction touched his lips.
Zion knows my situation. He’ll realize this is an act.
She expected him to play along. Instead, Zion’s smile twisted further, and he released her hand with surprising force.
[Zion] "Your taste is absolute garbage."
[Odette] "Excuse me?"
[Zion] "You actually like a thing like that…?"
She could overlook the insult to her taste, but it was strange to hear him refer to Karl as "a thing like that." In the game world, he had never disrespected Karl.
The Fenrir Kingdom may have had a harsh climate and a small population, but its military and civilization were exceptional.
The only reason they faced discrimination from the continent's inhabitants was that they were seen as 'too superior' for a minority group. Discrimination, after all, is born from fear.
Before the fall of the kingdom, Karl—as the next head of the Fenrir clan—had been treated with the respect due to a crown prince of an allied nation. Even after his people were destroyed and he was demoted to a third-class citizen, Zion in the game had always treated Karl as a prince. To him, Karl was not someone to be looked down upon.
[Odette] "Yes, I do. I like Karl very much."
Before she could even finish her sentence, Zion turned and strode toward the prison carriage. He ripped away the black cloth, revealing Karl bound inside.
He was wearing heavy iron shackles on his arms and legs, with a metal ball gag forced into his mouth.
This isn't how you treat a human.
She thought, her brow furrowing.
This is how you treat a beast.
Zion noticed her frown and looked satisfied. Ignoring the iron door, he grabbed one of the cage bars with his bare hand. The metal groaned and twisted unnaturally under his strength, bending until there was a gap wide enough for a man to pass through.
[Zion] "Come out, foreigner."
At those words, Karl turned his eyes toward Zion, his gaze burning with defiance.
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