CHAPTER 73: CH:73 A FATHER’S GRIEF, A DAUGHTER’S CHALLENGE

In the heart of the castle’s lobby, morning light cascaded softly through tall crystal-paned windows. The sunlight didn’t glare—it shimmered, like gentle gold dust floating in the air, filling every corner of the wide chamber.

The walls were painted in delicate layers of pastel pink and soft blue, blending gracefully like morning skies at dawn. Subtle, intricate patterns of elven vines ran along the borders, their silver threads glimmering faintly where sunlight kissed them.

Near the center of the room, a small circular table of white polished wood sat elegantly on a velvet rug. Around it, soft cushioned chairs—upholstered in pale sky blue and trimmed with lace—invited quiet conversation or rest. The chairs were shaped delicately, designed not just for sitting but for sinking into, like they could ease both body and soul.

Upon the table, a porcelain tea set gleamed softly. Wisps of steam curled from the delicate cups, the scent of freshly brewed herbal tea faint in the air. A silver plate held neatly arranged cookies and small, square-cut chocolates, their surfaces glossy under the morning light.

In every corner, warmth lingered.

It was a room not just for royalty, but for peace itself.

King Albedo leaned back slightly in his ornate, high-backed chair—the polished whitewood carved with ancient elven runes that glimmered faintly in the sunlight. His long, snow-white hair cascaded down his shoulders in soft layers, untouched by time, while his sharp like, youthful face bore the calm yet cold grace of a ruler who had seen centuries pass. His skin was pale like moonstone, but his blue eyes—clear and piercing—held a warmth now rare in his gaze, softening as Fran spoke.

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the stained glass windows behind him, painting faint colors across his elegant silver robes. A subtle breeze stirred the end of his cloak, but he barely moved, save for the slight shift of his fingers resting on the armrest.

Suddenly in the middle of their banter we just hear the half of the talks and continued this one.

"You love her... as a sister?" he asked, his voice no longer carrying the iron weight of command, but rather quiet surprise. It wasn’t harsh—just... honest.

Fran, seated across from him with her tail swaying lazily behind, gave a bright, unguarded smile. Her blue eyes sparkled as she spoke. "Yes. I was just curious about her at first. But when I looked at her closer... I liked sticking close to her. And now, I really love her—a lot. Like a real sister."

For a moment, the King of Eldor said nothing. His gaze lowered slightly as if retreating inward. Then, slowly, he released a soft, nearly inaudible chuckle. Not bitter. Not cold. Almost... relieved.

"I see."

Fran tilted her head in confusion. "You’re not mad?"

King Albedo shook his head gently. A few strands of his long hair shifted across his robe. His gaze dropped to the untouched tea cup at his side. "No. I’m... glad."

Fran blinked in surprise, ears perking.

He lifted his gaze again. The golden light in his eyes shimmered faintly. "I’m glad someone watched over her... while I failed."

The sunlight shifted, warming the cold marble floor between them, as silence settled. A fragile moment, like glass, holding the quiet weight of unspoken regret.

Then Fran blinked, ears perking up nervously. "Umm... sir king—" she stuttered, her tail flicking behind her. "I-I mean... my lord."

King Albedo gave a quiet scoff—not annoyed, but amused. His blue eyes softened again. "Just call me Albedo, if you want."

Fran hesitated, her blue eyes wide. "R-really?"

Her cat ears twitched uncertainly, and her tail curled slightly at the tip. She glanced down shyly for a moment, then looked back up at him.

Albedo’s lips curved into a faint, genuine smile. He said nothing more—but the small nod he gave her, the way his gaze steadied, was enough.

It was permission. Simple and clear.

Fran’s voice softened as she looked sideways, clutching her hands tightly in front of her. "I... I hope it’s not an insult, but... do you really... deeply love her?"

Her ears drooped slightly, and she avoided his gaze. "Because... I never had parents who loved me. Only... abandonment."

For a moment, Albedo said nothing.

He simply watched her.

His blue eyes, once cold and distant, now held a quiet patience as he listened.

Finally, he spoke, his voice lower and more human. "Oh... such a cruel world out there, isn’t it?"

Fran nodded silently.

Albedo’s gaze drifted to the sunlight beyond the nearby stained-glass window. "And as for your question... yes." He sighed faintly. "I really do love Dila. Wholeheartedly."

Fran’s ears flicked slightly, listening.

Albedo’s voice tightened. "It’s just... she was taken from me. Abruptly. Like a priceless ruby stolen from my hand."

He looked down, pausing, then added quietly, "It’s cruel for me too, Fran. As a father."

A pause.

"...Maybe I didn’t love her enough for her to love me back." His smile was thin. Bitter. Almost broken.

"Because every time my hero retrieved her..." Albedo’s voice cracked slightly, though he fought to steady it. "She kept stubbornly refusing. As if... she didn’t even know she had a family. A home. A castle waiting for her."

His blue eyes darkened as he looked down at the untouched tea.

"It broke my heart more than anything." His throat tightened.

He swallowed hard, forcing the tears back, his jaw trembling slightly but his face otherwise expressionless. His pride didn’t allow him to show weakness—not fully.

"It’s almost unbearable." His voice was quieter now. Strained. But honest.

He didn’t look at Fran.

And yet, his grief filled the quiet air between them.

Suddenly in a fraction of second.

The double wooden doors burst open without warning. Dila stood there, her breath sharp, shoulders tense, as if she had pushed the doors too hard without caring. The two guards flanking the entrance didn’t speak. They simply lowered their gazes to the floor, their faces tight with guilt.

Dila’s voice cut into the air, cold and shaking slightly.

"I never had a family in here. I was transmigrated. This whole thing is fabricated."

Her words dropped heavy in the room. Fran froze where she sat, her blue eyes wide in disbelief. She didn’t understand. None of it made sense to her.

Albedo, however, didn’t meet Dila’s gaze. His expression hardened. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand, his blue eyes closing as he whispered almost to himself, voice strained with pain.

"See!!. She didn’t remember anything..."

He dragged in a quiet, ragged breath.

"This is bad... and sad... She knows nothing. As if her memories were completely wiped. It’s unbearable... watching her like that."

He stayed like that for a moment—silent, motionless, defeated. Then his voice cracked slightly as he continued, still shielding his eyes from the sight of Dila.

"When I looked at her through the Mirror of Communication... when Zeon reported to me... I saw it. Heard her voice. Over and over, she said it..." His hand trembled faintly. "She said she had no family. No castle. No home to return to... She said all she wanted was to walk her own path... alone..."

His fingers pressed harder into the bridge of his nose, as if the pain in his heart could be pressed away.

And across the room, Dila stood silent.

Expression cold.

Eyes empty.

She didn’t move. She didn’t flinch.

Fran could only stare between them, her lips parted slightly, her tail frozen behind her as she whispered in confusion.

"Sister...?"

Fran jolted at Dila’s sudden shout.

"Fran, stay away from him!" Dila snapped, her voice sharp and loud enough to make the maids outside flinch.

Startled, Fran stumbled back, her tail puffing out, her ears stiffened. She bowed quickly toward the king, confused and apologetic.

"I-I’m sorry... my lord..."

But Albedo didn’t speak. He only looked at Fran, then gave her a slow, silent nod.

Without waiting, Fran rushed to Dila’s side, standing beside her protectively even if she didn’t understand what was happening.

Then, suddenly, Dila’s voice cracked the silence again, but this time filled with cold fury.

"Fight me."

The words echoed in the hall like a sword scraping stone.

Albedo blinked slowly. His heart lurched. He looked at Dila, but she didn’t hesitate.

"Fight me, you old fool." Dila’s blue eyes burned—not with fear, but anger. "If I win... I get to leave this place forever. If you win... you can keep me. Your ’daughter’."

Fran’s eyes widened in horror.

"Sister... what...?"

Albedo’s expression didn’t change. But deep inside, his heart ached. He looked away—toward the golden-tinted windows—as if trying to escape her gaze. His throat tightened. For a moment, it seemed he would refuse. But slowly... painfully... he looked back. His voice was hollow.

"...Deal."

Silence.

In Dila’s mind, Nari’s frail, delicate voice whispered urgently.

☆ What are you doing, master? You can’t win... that’s not just a king. He’s a powerful being. It’s too much for you... unless... you have a plan? But still even with plans i doubt you might fail no.☆

Dila’s expression darkened. Her jaw tightened.

She replied in her mind, cold and certain.

Yes.

I have.