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Chapter 18
After the festival ended, the child, who had finally gotten around to studying for once, put down her pen without hesitation and stared at the envelope.
“An invitation? This is…?”
“That’s right.”
“For me?”
She asked reflexively, but it wasn’t like she didn’t understand.
‘No way they’d invite Sana, who’s not even ten yet.’
The envelope, dusted with fine gold powder, was impressive at first glance.
“Belle, do you not want to go?”
“I love it! But, Dad, can’t we scrape off the gold powder and sell it?”
As if she could actually be happy about it—but she couldn’t complain to her dad.
Nor could she just throw a fit and refuse to go.
“How long has it been? Almost two years?”
If it were just Abel alone, she might’ve thrown herself on the ground in front of them.
But she couldn’t, and that was a shame.
“I have to go. Of course I do. This is that kind of event, right?”
After all, the honor of the Delapions was tied to this invitation.
Watching Dane write the reply on her behalf, Abel mumbled soullessly.
“I’ll be seeing my friends after a long time. Wow, how exciting.”
A strong breeze blew through her pink hair.
A wide meadow, a clear sky above it, a foal, and two children.
From afar, it looked like the picture of peace.
“Don’t go too fast.”
“Then why ride a horse at all? Might as well run there.”
From afar, it looked peaceful.
The prince holding the reins scowled.
“Then why use stairs? Just jump out the window.”
“I tried to, but you stopped me.”
“Say something reasonable, will you?”
The boy won this round of banter.
Though sometimes even he seemed to forget, Abel was the one who needed to stay on good terms with Chesah.
“If you don’t like my way, forget it.”
“Come on, as if! Who else is going to teach me but Your Highness?”
“Then shut up and follow.”
‘That mouth! That mouth!’
He had a knack for saying even ordinary things in the most irritating way.
Abel clenched and unclenched her fists.
‘Just you wait until we’re friends. I’ll make you the “Most Courteous Royal” of the month.’
Surprisingly, for someone with such a sharp tongue, he handled the horse quite properly.
“You seem to be getting used to it.”
“Then can I gallop now?”
“If you crack your head open, now that will be something to see.”
“Even if I crack my head, it won’t make me any less cute.”
“Maybe your head’s already cracked.”
The familiar back-and-forth had run its course.
“No galloping. You are learning faster than I expected, though.”
“Well, obviously. I’m me!”
“Hmph, not as fast as me.”
“Comparisons are the root of all suffering, you know. I’m content.”
Abel’s progress really was above average.
She wasn’t afraid of heights, so it was fine when her view suddenly rose on horseback.
She was strong enough that she was confident she wouldn’t fall, no matter what the horse did.
“…Do you even need more lessons from me?”
“Who else would lend me a horse?”
“I did say I’d let you borrow one.”
“Come on, if I’m not doing it with you, what’s the point of riding?”
Abel’s joke was pure truth, without a hint of irony.
After all, “Horse-riding lessons taught by the prince” weren’t really about culture or refinement.
If not for this, the kid would never get any sunlight!
Her eyes, like black go pieces, glanced at the scrawny boy.
Sweaty skin aside, he looked healthier than when he was buried in books all day.
‘If you don’t get sunlight, you’ll have vitamin deficiencies, and then you get pale and start thinking dark thoughts.’
Not that he wasn’t in a gloomy environment already!
It might be called a detached palace, but he hadn’t even had his twelfth birthday—how could they leave a kid like that alone?
‘And it needs cleaning too. Dust is bad for your lungs.’
With nowhere to go anyway, horseback riding was perfect for getting him to move around.
‘I’m glad he comes along willingly.’
After meeting the queen, Chesah openly refused to leave the detached palace.
But perhaps touched by the one-man show at the festival, he hadn’t rejected the riding lessons.
“…We’ve come pretty far.”
“Yup, let’s head back.”
He still turned around every time they got near the greenhouse.
And the way his green eyes stared off beyond it—like frost over greenery—was frozen solid.
Oblivious to his unease, Abel spoke cheerfully.
“Oh, I won’t be able to come for a while.”
“…Why?”
“Of course, you’ll miss me. You’ll feel empty. My absence will be deeply felt. It’ll be lonely.”
“I asked why.”
“There’s a gathering.”
“A gathering?”
His dark eyebrows rose.
“I’ll get to see some friends again. It’ll be a good time.”
“You have friends?”
That sentence carried layers of meaning.
One being the unspoken: You do?
The other being suspicion about her having any “friends” at all.
Abel scoffed at his skeptical reaction and replied.
“It’s just a figure of speech, okay? Who has real friends at a stupid gathering like this?”
She rubbed her face with both hands, groaning openly.
“But I can’t not go. It’s the curse of being ten… If it weren’t for Dad, I really wouldn’t.”
“What kind of gathering is it?”
“A simple social event. Only kids whose moms or dads are in the Royal Knights.”
Most of the royal knights were nobles by birth.
There were rare exceptions, like Dane Delapion, who earned a title through special merits, but such cases were fewer than ten.
“Ugh, I can already hear them gossiping about me…”
“Then don’t go.”
“You can’t live doing only what you want.”
If she’d only ever done what she wanted, she’d have been lounging around the mansion until she got crushed by the original novel’s villain.
Whether Chesah understood that or not, the little villain-to-be was frowning in thought beside her.
“Can’t believe you’re the one saying that.”
“Hey, I’m super responsible. Everyone else is going, but only the Delapion kid doesn’t? I can’t let them say that.”
Why did such a gathering even exist in the first place?
They called it a social event, but status and hierarchy were predetermined by the parents’ ranks.
It was obvious how they’d treat the daughter of a man who had only a lowly knight title.
But Abel wasn’t going to back down.
‘Worst case, I’ll just beat them all up.’
Even if the chance to do so never came.
“Anyway, think of me while I’m gone.”
“What?”
“Don’t lock yourself up again just because I’m not around! At least sit in the garden and get some sunlight like before!”
Honestly, I’m more worried about you than that stupid social gathering!
Hiding that thought, Abel waved her hand high in the air.
* * *
The hands adjusting the hem of the girl’s dress were careful and precise.
Deep gray eyes fussed over the rounded collar, the sleeves, and the toes of her shoes.
“Don’t act like you’re at home.”
“Okay.”
“Greet people brightly. You’ll see a lot of kids you’ve met before.”
“Got it.”
“They’re all your age, so you can be good friends.”
Oh, you innocent Dad…
Dane, unfamiliar with noble society, sincerely believed that even among aristocrats, children could form honest connections.
Abel didn’t want to shatter that belief.
“Of course. I’ll conquer the whole place.”
“Not conquer, I mean… Well, it’s you, so you’ll be fine. Yeah, you’ll be… okay. You will, right?”
This is how much confidence he had in his daughter.
The insight of a man who raised her, indeed.
Abel stared in the mirror at her hair being tied and retied.
“Do you think braids suit me better?”
“They’re nice.”
“Or maybe I should go for a neater look, since it’s at the palace?”
“That’s nice too.”
“Or just tie it all up—”
“Dad, Sis, shouldn’t we be leaving now?”
“Oh, right.”
In the end, her hair was split in two, with the top half tied up and decorated with a yellow ribbon, while the bottom half flowed down.
Despite the fuss over it, the result was simple—but it suited the newly bought yellow dress perfectly.
“There will be adults nearby too, so if anything happens, come find me anytime.”
“Okay.”
Not that I will.
“Don’t be too nervous. They’re not bad kids.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Of course not. You’re my daughter. You look beautiful today, Belle.”
His hand, about to pat her head out of habit, shifted and gently tapped her shoulder instead.
Her honest, old-fashioned, and doting father.
In response to that gesture, Abel gave a confident smile.
“Dad, I’ve always been beautiful.”
