Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 60

Calliope walked forward, chin lifted and expression unreadable, paying no mind to the surrounding nobles. Her posture, her steps, and the tilt of her chin, everything about her was poised and impeccable. She looked every bit a member of the distinguished Anastas house.

The great hall was divided cleanly down the center by a red carpet. Seating was strictly arranged by rank, and the Anastas family, positioned just after the two ducal houses, claimed their spot near the front.

The back seats were already packed with nobility, yet the frontmost rows on either side remained empty—seats reserved for the two ducal families, not yet arrived. Their absence, and the clear split between left and right, only emphasized the divide between the royalist and aristocratic factions.

Not long after the Anastas family sat, the two ducal families arrived—almost as if in competition. They walked forward with measured steps, heads held high, then took their designated sides. Calliope leaned back in her chair, resting her elbow on the armrest and propping her chin in her palm. To her, it was all pointless posturing.

Across the hall sat Otis, his face tense as if he were straining to maintain dignity. It made her smirk. When he noticed, she gave a subtle wave of her fingers. He frowned, then returned the gesture in kind.

At that moment, the grand doors swung open and a loud voice announced the arrival of the King. Behind him followed the Queen and a young Crown Prince—no older than Carolie.

Calliope remembered how much the Anastas house had pushed for a betrothal between the Crown Prince and Carolie. She didn’t know if they’d succeeded. Back then, the entire realm had been consumed by the demon lord’s subjugation. Even after the saint’s party returned, reconstruction efforts had demanded everyone’s attention.

“I wouldn’t know—I was already dead by then.”

She clicked her tongue softly and straightened her back. The King wore his crown over silvery white hair. The Queen, younger and still golden-haired, followed close behind.

“Said they met a little later.”

Their romance was still remembered as one of the great love stories of the age—how a prince fell in love with the daughter of a humble baron and married her despite the world’s protests. That very woman had risen to the challenge and proven herself a capable queen. It sounded like fiction, but Calliope understood better than anyone the effort behind such success.

As the royal family walked the red carpet to their seats of honor, the entire nobility stood in reverent unison. Though they could never match the Empire’s scale, this kingdom still ruled a quarter of the continent—its crown was no small thing.

With the royal family seated, it was time for the royal knight order’s entrance.

The nobles returned to their seats as the armored knights marched in perfect formation. At the front stood Count Esteban, commander of the royal knights. Beside him walked Isaac, making his first official appearance—dressed in the ceremonial uniform Calliope had so carefully chosen for him.

A stir passed through the hall.

After all, it had always been the Count’s eldest son who stood at his side—not the second.

Someone used the moment of surprise to make a snide remark about Isaac’s eerie white eyes. Isaac’s brows briefly furrowed as he turned his head—as if looking for the one who’d spoken.

But his gaze didn’t find them. Instead, it found Calliope.

And when it did, the tension in his brow melted away.

Calliope almost laughed out loud. She smiled instead and gave a small wave. She saw the relief ripple through him, and her heart began to race.

He was relying on her.

In the past, it had always been her relying on him. But not in this life.

She bit her lower lip, trying not to grin too widely.

The knights took their positions. Count Esteban and Isaac stood two steps below the royal family. Behind them, the knight candidates lined up, waiting for their names to be called so they could receive their titles.

In other words, it was going to be a long and excruciating ceremony. Everyone in the room was likely just waiting for the party to follow.

Even His Majesty, surely.

Calliope smiled faintly at the thought.

“Bartha Menon!”

Ah, yes. Their ever-efficient King, it seemed, had skipped the long-winded royal address and gone straight to business. A steward called out the first name, and a knight with unremarkable brown hair stepped forward. He climbed the steps and knelt solemnly just below the King’s dais.

The King rose, red cape flowing behind him, and drew the ceremonial sword from his side. He laid it across the young knight’s shoulder.

“Do you swear…”

To pledge your loyalty to the King… to devote your soul to the One God… and so on. The formal induction had begun.

Calliope revised her earlier thought: His Majesty’s neck probably hurt more than his arm. One of his attendants stood nearby holding a teacup, presumably for the inevitable fatigue.

The King insisted on doing it this way because, in the past, the royal knight order had been reduced to a laughingstock. It was the former King who had rebuilt its dignity from the ground up—and the current monarch had no intention of tarnishing that work.

“Haaam.”

Beside her, Carolie stifled a yawn. Calliope poked her in the cheek. The girl glared up at her.

“Deidon Pallia!”

Once one name was called and the person stepped forward, another followed. Then came names like Charles, MacViger, Dolus, and James, each announced in turn. A glance toward the back seats showed several already dozing off. Others, trying their hardest to stay awake, looked almost pitiful.

Unlike them, Calliope wasn’t even remotely sleepy—she had something far more entertaining to watch.

“How cute.”

Calliope smiled again. Isaac stood beside the Count with his hands behind his back, stiff as a board. He was tall and broad for his age, and to others, he might have appeared intimidating. But to Calliope, he looked more like a chick just learning to walk.

He must’ve caught her smiling, because he tried to lift the corners of his mouth into what could barely be called a smile. To anyone else, it probably looked like he was grimacing, but Calliope was sure—he was smiling at her.

And at that moment, someone was watching the two of them. It was none other than Otis Glayderth of the Glayderth Dukedom. He hadn’t seen any reason to attend such a dull ceremony, but his father had dragged him there by force. He had been lost in thought, thinking he would’ve rather spent the time catching up on paperwork, when he happened to spot Isaac.

“I’d assumed, since he never leaves his family estate, that he was some kind of half-wit.”

Isaac wore a navy uniform. With his height and build, he looked at least eighteen—definitely taller than Otis himself. That alone irritated Otis. Everyone knew Isaac wasn’t treated well within his household. Even if he got good food, Otis was sure he got better. His own education was superior too—both in quality and in quantity.

“So height really is just genetic, huh?”

He turned to look at Count Esteban. Towering over everyone at more than two meters tall, Count Esteban had a naturally commanding presence. And Isaac, standing beside him, had clearly inherited it. Seeing them side by side made it unmistakably clear—they were father and son.

After examining the two of them, Otis’s gaze drifted naturally to Calliope. He told himself it was only logical—he’d seen her fiancé, so of course he’d be curious what she was doing.

She was smiling. Smiling at her awkwardly grinning fiancé.

“What does she see in him?”

Isaac had little to no standing in his family, even less in society, and absolutely no chance of inheriting the title. What could she possibly like about such a cast-off second son?

Just a moment ago, Otis had been reconsidering the rumors, thinking Isaac might not be as incompetent as people claimed. But now he reversed that opinion—without even realizing it.

“She’s impossible to figure out.”

She claimed she could see the future as a joke, yet she lied and manipulated people so naturally. The most surprising part? She always managed to make things work in both their favor—so much so that Otis couldn’t bring himself to dislike her. For someone still so young, her cunning was beyond impressive.

“Where else could you even find a girl like that?”

As someone expected to produce heirs, he thought—if he ever had to marry, someone like her might not be a bad choice. But the thought drifted away like water through his fingers.

Then suddenly, the girl who had been smiling at her fiancé lifted her head and looked around. She seemed confused for a moment, her eyes scanning the distance. But she quickly shook her head and turned her gaze back to Isaac.

“What was that?”

Only Otis saw it happen.

Several hours passed before the investiture ceremony finally came to an end. Having called out each name personally, the king now looked stiff, receiving help from his attendants as he tried to ease the tension in his neck and arms. At times, he had sped up or skipped parts altogether. Otis briefly wondered whether that was acceptable, but considering the power the dukedoms held, the king’s authority surely exceeded it. He stopped caring.

The king exited, his red cape billowing behind him. The crown prince, who had clearly wanted to stay and watch more knights, was reluctantly taken away in the queen’s arms. Palace servants moved quickly to clear the chairs and set up long tables on both sides, draped in red cloth. They began laying out tea-time snacks and light alcoholic drinks.

“We’ll be leaving now,” said Circe. In her arms was Carolie, who was whining that she wanted to stay and watch more knights.

“Honestly, she might’ve gotten along with the crown prince,” Calliope thought as she looked toward Kapir. Their composed and dependable Kapir was already standing by Illan. When she waved, he gave a small, slightly awkward wave in return. Holding Carolie in her arms, Circe added:

“I’ll leave my lady-in-waiting here with you.”

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