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~Chapter 30~
At first, the applause sounded far away, but soon it grew louder and was joined by cheering.
Aveline looked around in surprise and saw that the training ground was suddenly packed with knights.
“Amazing skills, my lady!”
“Your moves were so perfect, we couldn’t look away!”
“You totally dominated the training ground, miss!”
The knights all took turns praising Aveline’s skill.
“I-it’s really nothing…”
Aveline, always weak to compliments, blushed bright red, embarrassed by the sudden attention.
She had always wanted to be recognized, but this was a bit overwhelming—though she couldn’t help feeling happy inside.
As the knights stared at her with high expectations, Aveline felt pressured to show them something more. She picked up a few stones nearby and started to juggle.
“Wow!”
One of the knights shouted in amazement, and Aveline juggled even faster.
“That’s not all I can do,”
she thought, showing off her specialty: while juggling, she threw one stone hard and accurately at a target—a trick that Sir Lydon had once praised, laughing until he cried.
“I’ll hit that door with this stone—”
“Ahh!”
But just then, the training ground door opened and, instead of the door, the stone hit someone.
A knight recognized the man and rushed over.
“My lord!”
What?
Aveline stopped juggling and rushed over to see who it was.
“…Father?”
To her shock, the man who had opened the door and gotten hit was none other than Count Herolds.
“Carry the Count to his room!”
“Yes, sir!”
The knights quickly picked up the unconscious count and moved him.
“What happened?”
The butler was shocked to see the count being carried in.
“Well…”
A knight explained for Aveline, who was too embarrassed to speak.
“My lady was showing us her trick—she was juggling stones and then threw one to hit a target.”
“So the target was…!”
The butler looked terrified, as if Aveline had aimed at her father on purpose.
“No! It’s not like that! I was aiming for the door, but my father came in at that exact moment…”
“Oh, I see,”
the butler sighed with relief.
“What happened this time?”
The physician showed up, sweating from being called so suddenly—it was the same doctor who’d seen the Count the last time Aveline accidentally knocked him out.
“It seems the Count has been fainting a lot lately,”
the doctor said as he checked him over.
After a while, the doctor frowned.
“His forehead… is dented.”
“Dented?”
Everyone looked where the doctor pointed and saw a small dent in the middle of the Count’s red forehead from the stone.
Oh no.
Aveline’s conscience ached—she’d just given her father a dented forehead!
“He’ll heal quickly as long as new skin grows,”
the doctor reassured.
“Whew…”
Aveline felt a little less guilty.
“Unless it leaves a scar, of course.”
Well, that didn’t help.
“I put on a strong healing ointment. The Count is just unconscious for now—he’ll need a good meal when he wakes.”
While the butler left to get the meal instructions and the knights went back to their training, Aveline sat alone by her unconscious father.
It’s the first time I’ve just watched him like this.
She’d hardly ever talked to her father for more than a few words—he was always busy.
When she was young, she even started fights with Ares just to get a few minutes of his attention.
But as I grew up, I pretty much gave up.
She realized that no matter what she did, she could never meet her father’s expectations.
And yet, he did those things for me…
She still couldn’t believe what Melina Srun had told her—that her father had visited the Srun estate to demand an apology for Aveline, researched old punishments to protect her from the royal banquet scandal, and even agreed to let Ares join the Emperor’s faction early as a bargain.
It all seemed too different from the cold, distant father she knew.
Aveline had barely felt any affection from her father—her mother was far away, sick, and even her father rarely showed love.
“Mmm…”
Suddenly, Count Herolds groaned and woke up.
“Father?”
“…What on earth happened?”
The Count sat up, clearly confused.
He doesn’t remember. Makes sense—he fainted right after coming in.
Aveline hesitated, afraid he’d be angry if she confessed what happened.
But she knew she couldn’t hide it forever.
“I was juggling stones and aimed at the door. You came in just as I threw one…”
“No, not that.”
The Count cut her off.
“Huh?”
Aveline blinked, confused.
“I mean the huge flower basket that arrived at the house today. Who sent it?”
“…The flower basket?”
How did he know about that?
“Everything that comes into this estate is reported to me,”
he explained, seeing her face.
“There was no name, so I wanted to ask if you had any guesses.”
“So… you came all the way to the training ground to find out?”
Just knowing her father had come to see her made her heart flutter for a moment.
“Yes. Ugh… Why does my head hurt so much?”
But the pain in his forehead quickly brought her back to reality.
His forehead was still red and puffy, with shiny ointment on it.
“Anyway, who sent those flowers?”
he pressed.
Aveline hesitated—she wasn’t sure if she should admit it was Theron.
It was obvious why Theron had sent the flowers:
he wanted to remind Aveline of their conversation in her dream, and probably to spread rumors that she’d gotten flowers from someone.
Just the fact that her father rushed in demanding to know who sent them proved this was no ordinary gift.
“Um…”
Bang!
“Father!”
Ares burst into the room, not even changing clothes after hearing his father had collapsed.
“Everything is chaos…”
the Count muttered.
“Sorry,”
Ares apologized, but as he lifted his head and saw the Count’s shiny, red forehead, he made a strange face.
“What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing… noth—sniff—ing.”
Ares lowered his head and started shaking—he was trying not to laugh!
“Crying over this?”
The Count misunderstood, shaking his head at his emotional son.
“S-sorry…”
Ares’s shoulders shook even harder as he stammered his apology.
“Uh, excuse me…”
Ares managed to choke out before running out of the room.
A moment later, he returned, face straight but avoiding his father’s eyes.
Ares is really trying not to laugh,
Aveline thought, watching him.
Ares suddenly remembered something.
“Oh, right. The Crown Prince said he’ll invite you over soon.”
“Me?”
Why would he do that?
