Chapter 14: Touring the Academy with Father
Father dislikes it when I go somewhere beyond his sight.
How much does he dislike it?
Enough that Sebas’s consumption of stomach medicine increases drastically and the servants let out blue-tinged screams.
But if I wish to go out, there is only one option available to me.
Until now, I have not had much reason to leave the estate, and everything I needed was within its walls, so this is somewhat of a gamble—
But it should work, shouldn’t it?
From Father’s reaction the last time I casually mentioned wanting to visit, my confidence has turned into certainty.
Therefore!
I shall take advantage of Father’s boundless daughter-love!
Forgive me for being a shameless daughter.
But Father is far too reassuring.
Going alone into a den filled with capture targets—natural enemies—is simply too frightening.
“Father. I would like to go out, but I am afraid to go alone. Would you accompany me?”
“Of course, my precious Albertina. Shall we stop by a boutique in the capital? Or visit your Rose Company? You have never seen it yourself, have you?”
“Hehe, it has been so long since I went out with you, Father. I shall leave it to your discretion.”
In truth, Rose Company was built mostly through Julius and Sebas’s efforts.
I merely made the initial selfish suggestion.
But Father looks delighted, so that is enough.
If not for the convent issue, the Lattiche parent and child are truly close.
I am quite the father-con, after all.
They say children do not understand their parents’ hearts, but perhaps parents do not understand their children’s either.
I do not wish to see House Lattiche—
To see Father—fall from grace.
Hooking my arm through Father’s, his face softens into a smile so radiant it seems it might melt.
His handsome features prevent him from looking foolishly indulgent.
Father’s attire blends historic nobility with modern fashion, stylish and dignified.
I wear Rose Brand’s newest slender-style dress, high-waisted with a vivid blue sash ribbon.
White fabric adorned with delicate lace and embroidery.
Elegant rather than flashy.
My hair is half-up, secured with a silver and aquamarine barrette.
Matching drop-shaped aquamarine earrings and necklace sway at my ears.
One must dress properly for an outing with Father.
Unbeknownst to me, Father was moved to tears, convinced that my “selfish wish” guaranteed his good mood for a month.
Apparently, accompanying his daughter is a reward beyond measure.
Though Father is busy, he readily indulges me.
I am grateful.
Facing capture targets amid uncertain flags and bluffs alone would be impossible.
I am but a cowardly shut-in.
Yet I refuse the ruin route.
Father is supreme in both sword and magic.
Even Michaelis would be outmatched in combat, and Kishtarial could be toyed with in magic.
Father is my ultimate shield and sword.
Forgive me—
Perhaps I shall forever cling to his coattails.
At the academy, we received extreme VIP treatment.
Naturally.
Father is Duke and Marshal.
We were shown to a gaudy reception room.
They seemed surprised that I wished to summon Jibril rather than Kishtarial.
I wore a wide-brimmed bonnet to obscure my face.
“Ah, Albel. A moment.”
“Yes?”
Father touched my earring, and the air shimmered.
My hair changed to ash brown—Father’s color.
My eyes turned aquablue.
“Father! We match!”
The brighter coloring softens my appearance.
Standing beside him now, we truly look like parent and child.
“Albel’s face is not widely known. But you resemble Christina closely. I will not allow unwanted attention.”
“Even with you here?”
“Fools exist everywhere, Albel.”
He even placed enchanted glasses upon me.
Perhaps a tracking device.
He gazed at me with affection tinged with memory—
Perhaps recalling my late mother.
Though I barely remember her, I do not dislike that look in his eyes.
Soon, the academy headmaster arrived, flustered.
Jibril was away on extracurricular lessons in a nearby forest.
Father muttered, “Useless.”
The headmaster trembled.
To prevent Father from acting rashly, I suggested we tour the academy.
The rose garden was in full bloom.
Arches and hedges painted in vibrant colors beneath sunlight.
“Father, how beautiful.”
“Shall we build one at home?”
“Our garden is already perfect. It is enough to admire this here.”
He agreed.
Then I spotted a hedge maze.
“Father, shall we race to the center?”
“A race?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“It is allowed. Sebas, Raven, Anna—accompany Albel.”
Father remained alone.
“You are by yourself?”
“I can guard myself. You are more likely to get lost.”
He winked charmingly.
He is an alumnus of this academy.
“If you become lost, cut through the roses.”
“Absolutely not! The roses did nothing wrong!”
He only smiled.
I charged ahead confidently.
And then—
“Oh?”
I became lost.
Ten minutes in.
Roses to the right, roses to the left.
“Milady, we have passed here already.”
“Have we?”
“That path is a dead end.”
“…Ah.”
Complete confusion.
“Raven, please.”
He nodded and guided me.
My attendants are truly excellent.
Which only worsens my shut-in tendencies.
Suddenly Raven halted, looking troubled.
“Milady, I cannot take you further.”
“Why?”
He placed his hands upon my shoulders, preventing me from advancing.
Flustered at touching me, he urged, “Please step back.”
Voices drifted from ahead.
A young woman.
Perhaps… skipping class?
Sebas and Anna’s expressions turned cold as stone.
“I shall investigate first,” Sebas said.
Soon raised voices echoed.
Sebas returned smiling gently.
“They have vacated the area.”
We moved forward—
A bench and gazebo-like clearing.
As I approached the bench, Sebas and Raven swiftly blocked me and lifted me.
“I only wished to sit?”
They shook their heads firmly.
Thus I exited the maze carried like luggage.
Father awaited at the finish.
I lost.
Later, in a letter, Michaelis subtly mentioned a scandal in the rose garden—
A noble couple engaged in improper conduct in broad daylight.
Apparently, I had nearly stumbled upon them.
Anna later screamed upon realizing it.
At last, Jibril arrived.
She curtsied beautifully, wearing Rose Brand’s empire dress, red hair adorned with matching ribbon.
It is astonishing to think this elegant lady once punched a count’s daughter and caused a nosebleed.
“Long time no see, Lady Jibril,” Father greeted.
Father soon excused himself, leaving her in my care.
Once he departed, Jibril slumped.
“The Duke is as terrifying as ever.”
“Is he?”
She insisted his mere presence radiates overwhelming authority.
Perhaps she is right.
Outside of me, Father is indeed a Demon King.
Compared to him, even princes seem diminished.
Jibril confessed that exposure to Father’s aura has made her fearless in society.
The original Jibril was timid and insecure.
Now she stands brilliant as a crimson rose.
“How I wish I had a sister like you,” I mused.
“Then perhaps my brother—”
She launched into an impassioned sales pitch for Michaelis.
Handsome, loyal, unmarried, desirable.
I nearly died of embarrassment.
“I am not considering marriage,” I said hastily.
“…Indeed. Any suitor must first survive your father.”
She sighed.
“But your hair and eyes?”
“Father altered them for caution. We match.”
“They suit you well.”
Of course they do.
I twirled happily.
I love Mother’s colors.
But I love Father’s as well.