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Chapter 100
I was thrown into confusion.
Sure, my dad might look like a 19+ romance fantasy male lead, but this is too much.
Come to think of it, why isn’t Dad the male lead?
He’s got a tragic, overwhelming backstory, countless dark secrets, a family in ruins, awful parents, only one friend, wrecked human relationships, bizarre tendencies, what looks like mental illness, and a whole list of personal flaws. He’s the textbook image of a male protagonist.
Wow. He’s the complete opposite of Pession.
“Feels more like this is Mom, though…”
I couldn’t ignore the strong intuition. Then what does that make Dad?
‘But honestly, who says Dad is even my real dad?’
When I first saw him, I didn’t feel the same strong conviction I did when I saw this portrait.
There’s still distance, some awkwardness too.
I thought it was just because I wasn’t close with the whole idea of “Dad.” But maybe not?
“Hmmmm.”
Dad or uncle?
Schrödinger’s Dad?
“Forget it.”
I don’t know.
Does it even matter if he’s my real dad or not?
If he feeds me, gives me a place to sleep, and raises me—hey, that’s a dad.
Secret births and all that nonsense—I’ll think about it if someone actually tells me.
“But seriously, where is he?”
The portrait gallery was far too big.
Where was he hiding?
I scratched my head and stepped back into the main hall.
“Huh?”
From below, I hadn’t noticed the second-floor passageway because of the high ceiling. I climbed up just in case, and sure enough, there was Dad, lounging like a king on a couch.
“Dad!”
In this enormous Halbern estate, with all its traps and hidden devices, only its master—the Duke of Halbern—could move about freely.
Maybe that’s why Dad always holed up in places no one else dared to step.
“Dad?”
I ran over, and up close I could hear faint groans.
‘He probably used a lot of his powers because of me.’
I knew powers always came with side effects and backlash afterward. That made me worry.
“Are you hurting?”
Maybe he hadn’t been asleep—his long fanlike lashes trembled and lifted.
Light purple eyes met mine.
Was he really sick?
“Were you sleeping?”
“No.”
He exhaled a thin breath, watching me. Suddenly, it turned into a staring contest.
“……”
“……”
I couldn’t lose.
I held my gaze firmly, until Dad broke into soft laughter. Victory was mine.
“A first.”
“What is?”
“Us smiling at each other like this.”
His slow, low voice carried.
“That’s strange. The you I know always had her eyes closed. Why are they open?”
“Me?”
“Even your voice… feels like I’ve never heard it before.”
Dad reached out with a dazed expression.
“My daughter…”
His white, slender hand brushed my cheek. Despite its delicate look, his fingers were firm, touching me carefully, as though I were porcelain.
“You’re alive. Warm. Is this a dream?”
“It’s not.”
“Really?”
A faint, deflated laugh slipped out. With hazy, unfocused eyes, he looked at me.
“I dream.”
“What kind of dream?”
“Dreams of losing you.”
His almond-shaped eyes, lined thick with lashes, blinked slowly.
“No matter what choice I make, no matter what I do, I always lose you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Valère smiled faintly.
“Sometimes I kill you myself. Because you look like you’re in pain. Or because I’ve just gone mad. And then Mehen leaves.”
He whispered as though sharing an ancient secret: when Mehen leaves, he becomes a monster.
“That boy is my last shred of humanity.”
The one who kept him from forgetting he was human. The one who never changed, not once. The only person he trusted.
“It was only him.”
Dad laughed, saying Mehen was the only one who always made the same choice, no matter the circumstances.
His languid voice drifted like a dream. It made me wonder if he was sick. At the same time, it reminded me of a dream I once had—
The one where I died, Mehen left, and Dad disappeared.
‘Does Dad dream that too?’
“Sometimes I send you to the imperial family, or to another house, or to the Tower, or the Temple… but then you die even earlier.”
His voice cracked as he pressed his forehead.
“If I raise you, you die even earlier.”
He muttered like a man half-asleep.
“I need to… raise you properly.”
Was this the side effect of using his powers? Or just the aftereffects?
Either way, he wasn’t himself. I couldn’t leave him like this.
“Dad.”
His dry eyes turned to me.
Eyes that had longed so long they’d even grown numb to thirst.
I reached out and cupped his cheek. My hand pressed against his face.
“I’m right here.”
“……”
“I’m not dead yet.”
His long lashes fluttered slowly, like a butterfly.
“What if I kill you?”
His hand touched my cheek.
“What if I can’t bring you back?”
All of a sudden, Dad felt like a child. He was clearly an adult, and yet… when he saved me, he had seemed so reliable.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you seem like a kid.”
My body might be the younger one, but right now, he was the child.
“Then just do it again.”
I toyed with his cheek and pressed my forehead to his. His skin was cold.
“I can wait. You’ll come save me again, won’t you?”
His breath caught. His wide eyes darkened to deep violet.
“…Me, save you?”
“……”
“I might hurt you.”
“No, you won’t.”
Before, I might have taken that as a murder threat. But not anymore.
“Look—right now you can’t even touch me properly.”
How could he possibly kill me, when he was too afraid I’d break if he touched me wrong?
His moist eyes softened to a translucent lavender.
I think I finally understood his answer when I once asked why he hadn’t come to see me.
It hadn’t been a threat. It had been a confession.
“Dad.”
I still didn’t know what this man thought of me.
Did he even think of me as his daughter?
I wasn’t sure.
What’s the usual bond between father and daughter?
What do they talk about? How do they build closeness? I didn’t know—I’d had a father, but it was like not having one at all.
“I don’t dislike you.”
“Yeah.”
“I might even like you.”
What mattered was—
“I want to be close to you.”
“Why?”
Valère’s eyes narrowed, as if weighing my sincerity.
“You ignored me before.”
I shrugged.
“You called me an elder.”
“Well, you are. You’re older than me.”
“……”
He stared at me, then let out a hollow laugh.
“I can’t win against you.”
He ran a hand through his hair as he sat up. Even in a moment like this, his decadent looks made me smile.
His face really was fun to look at.
“Are you feeling clearer now?”
“Yeah.”
When my hand fell away, he leaned toward me, reluctant to let go.
“You’re warm.”
He rubbed his cheek against my much smaller hand before opening his eyes fully. Now focused, his gaze was sharp and clear.
“You came to find me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“You weren’t there this morning.”
Mehen had encouraged me too, but mostly… I just wanted to see Dad.
“Didn’t you eat?”
“I did.”
“Then why weren’t you around in the morning?”
“Hmm…”
He only gave a vague smile, as though the answer was troublesome. I scowled.
“Are you avoiding me?”
“No.”
“Then eat with me.”
“Alright.”
“Take a walk with me too.”
“Alright.”
“And—”
“Mm. And?”
“Play with me!”
A soft smile curved his lips. His eyes drooped gently, his voice sweet as honey.
“More.”
“More?”
“Tell me more. What you want.”
His low voice, telling me to ask for anything, made me smile without meaning to. He really did feel like a dad.
“Hug me.”
“If my daughter wishes, as much as she wants.”
He stood and easily lifted me with one arm. Even Mehen usually used two.
Nestled in his broad chest, I pressed my forehead to his. I couldn’t stop the little laugh escaping.
This embrace felt like it could protect me from anything. It felt so strong.
Mehen blinked in disbelief at the scene before him.
Arelene, nestled quietly in Valère’s arms? Valère and Arelene, getting along?
‘It’s good… so why do I feel uneasy?’
As Mehen’s expression grew complicated, Valère smirked and teased him.
“Jealous, dear?”
Before he could answer, a fountain pen went flying through the air.
