A Father's Embrace
Thankfully, Rebecca had stepped in to mediate appropriately before any real clash could erupt. If the Imperial Knights had truly seen Beatrice as a threat and moved to eliminate her, I wouldn't have hesitated to stand against them...
'Still, it's best if nothing like that ever happens.'
They were the Imperial Knights, after all. The emperor's executioners and the Dersia Empire's strongest military force. As Philip had said, avoiding unnecessary discord was mutually beneficial unless absolutely necessary. No matter how confident I was in my skills, pitting a single person against a group was fundamentally foolish. At the very least, it was obvious that Beatrice and I would end up exhausted from fleeing from place to place.
Well, it wasn't really my place to say, considering I'd shoved a blade right up to one of their chins. But in the end, nothing major happened.
By the time Rebecca led them back to her mansion, I was heading home as well.
"Beatrice, you there? It's me. Sorry I'm a bit late. Got caught up in a little commotion..."
I called out as soon as I opened the front door and stepped inside. The house was so vast that I couldn't immediately tell where she was. Still, just like our days in Handel, she was probably settled somewhere on the second floor. With that assumption, I climbed the stairs.
"Beatrice?"
But even after reaching the second floor, my daughter didn't respond to my calls. A foreboding thought flashed through my mind, and I swiftly expanded my aura senses. You never knew. Despite Rebecca's mediation, what if those blindly loyal Imperial Knights had acted on their own? What if they'd snuck into the house while I was guarding the front yard?
"Beatrice!"
I flung open the door to the room where I faintly sensed her presence, bracing for the worst. And there, at the far end of the bedroom, crouched a blue-haired girl with her face buried in her knees.
Thankfully, my grim imagination proved unfounded. I let out a quiet sigh of relief and approached her, lowering myself to her level.
"What are you doing here? I called for you several times—why didn't you answer...?"
But then.
"......"
"......"
I froze mid-sentence upon seeing Beatrice lift her head slightly, her eyes unmistakably red and swollen. The faint glisten of tears was enough to numb my brain for an instant.
"Ah..."
"Were you crying?!"
"D-Daaaddy."
Before Beatrice could call out to me in her cracked voice, I quickly cupped her cheeks with a smush!.
Her face squished comically as she glared at me in mild annoyance.
"Whaaat're you doooing... It huuuurts..."
"Oh, sorry."
I released her upon hearing her muffled protest, though I belatedly traced my index finger over her eyes. As I'd mentioned before, Beatrice's expressions were quite honest with her emotions. Unless she was deliberately masking them, her true feelings usually showed on her face.
"......You."
It was the same now. Her face looked somehow forlorn and melancholic, forcing me to bite my lip and trail off.
"Did you......hear something?"
"......"
There was no reply. Beatrice simply lowered her gaze and slumped her shoulders, staying silent like a wilted flower. Helplessness crossed my face as I swallowed a reflexive sigh.
This reaction meant only one thing. She'd seen or heard something.
'The distance from the mansion to the front gate is quite far, so I thought it'd be fine...'
This place wasn't just big inside—the surrounding grounds were expansive too. From the second floor, the front gate where I'd confronted the knights might have been vaguely visible, but it was far too distant to overhear conversations. Unless one enhanced their hearing with mana, that is.
I could only gaze down at Beatrice with a complex, conflicted look. When exactly had she reached a level where she could pull off such a feat? As her master, I was honestly thrilled by my disciple's exceptional talent. But as her father... well.
Of course, I hadn't wanted her to hear the exchange between me and the knights. Especially not Hokma's terrified pleas amid them.
I opened and closed my mouth several times before anxiously placing a hand on her shoulder.
"......Beatrice."
Forcing the words out, I tried to soothe her as best I could.
"Forget whatever you heard. Everything they said was baseless nonsense—there's no reason for you to torment yourself over such rubbish."
"......Daddy......"
But as always, I was hopeless at comforting people in situations like this. My empathy wasn't particularly strong, and I lacked the silver tongue to heal wounds. All I could do was awkwardly stroke her shoulder.
Of course, that wouldn't suffice to brush this off. Looking up at me with teary eyes, she asked in a quivering voice,
"What’s the ‘Blood Incident’ that Hokma mentioned? Something about a whole nation falling, or the empire being overturned... Is that about me?"
"......No."
I answered immediately. My tone was so icy and indignant that even I flinched. Beatrice's face looked ready to burst into tears again. I chose my words carefully, swallowed hard a few times, then gripped her shoulders firmly and growled,
"No, it's not. I told you—it's bullshit. Hokma has this bad habit of seriously peddling conspiracy theories sometimes... Damn it."
My words grew sharper, laced with curses unfit for a child. No matter how I tried to deflect, only clumsy excuses came out. My pathetic eloquence frustrated me. Grimacing, I sighed.
"......Haa, damn it all. Beatrice, don't cry. There's no need. What have you done wrong?"
In the end, I had only one path. Straightforward honesty. Sometimes, the direct approach was best.
"Even if history records some unsavory precedent, those using it to persecute you are the ones in the wrong. You're different from that man a hundred years ago. You will never walk the same path."
"B-But Hokma said my power is dangerous. That I was born with a dangerous fate..."
Damn that Hokma. I inwardly cursed my old acquaintance while furrowing my brow. Whatever I did to him later—punch him or otherwise—right now, I needed to comfort Beatrice first.
"Beatrice. No—Riche."
I pinched her soft cheeks between thumb and forefinger, drawing her full attention. I even used the old nickname she'd gone by in the back alleys instead of her usual one. Speaking as gently and kindly as possible, maximizing my fatherly sensitivity,
"Forget what that bastard—no, that jerk said. Listen to me instead. Believe me."
Beatrice's cheeks stretched like cheese, but her grim expression didn't lift. Still looking utterly pitiful, I soothed her with a wry smile.
"If you saw and heard that scene earlier, then you must've seen how firmly I drove Hokma and those knights away. Why don't you rely on your reliable daddy here?"
"......Nngh, uu..."
"......I said don't cry. Just... Riche, remember this one thing. Just as I always have, I'll keep blocking any threats or slander against you from now on too. I'm always on your side. Truly."
And cautiously—adjusting the distance I'd obsessively maintained between us—I extended both arms.
...We'd already shared a bed and hugged in our sleep long ago, so this much should be fine now.
Poof—
"......!"
I embraced Beatrice as warmly as I could, gently stroking her hair. Her body tensed slightly, but she didn't push me away. Taking that as permission, I held the awkward hug.
A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips.
"If you were truly a dangerous person... why would I teach you swordsmanship? Why would I raise a dangerous being with my own hands?"
This was perfectly logical. Ironclad reasoning. Your father knew your future yet still taught you mana and the sword... It was a universally convincing explanation, making it highly effective for comforting the girl. This simple rationality gave even my clumsy self a surge of confidence.
"I plan to raise you into an incredibly strong swordswoman. Or a magician, if you prefer. Either way, that power you'll awaken someday—it'll make you a true powerhouse, won't it?"
"......Hic. D-Daddy..."
"Yes, yes. 'Daddy's right here. A proper 'daddy' who'll stay by your side forever, unlike that worthless Edenberg Count who abandoned you and had no fatherly love whatsoever."
"Nngh, hngh, waaah..."
I regretted mentioning the Edenberg Count a bit after saying it—timing-wise, maybe not—but no, he was trash. Since I intended to walk a different path, contrasting us was probably fine.
Anyway, Beatrice finally couldn't hold back and burst into tears. But as she did, she reached out and hugged me back. Even if she pinched or lightly scratched my back in her sorrow, I accepted it all with a faint smile.
...At least this was better than that cold, inscrutable expression she'd worn in the dead of night, demanding an 'answer' from me. At least now, she was pouring out her true emotions. Soon enough, I could interpret it as trust in me.
"Sniff, hng... Daddy, you'll always stay by my side, right? You won't abandon me... ever?"
"Of course. I swear it—even stake my life on it."
"......Hic, for real. If you abandon me, I won't forgive you. Promise you'll keep it. Daddy."
Mixing half sobs with half obsession, she sought confirmation repeatedly, then nuzzled her forehead and cheek against my shoulder like a sulky child. For a fifteen-year-old girl on the cusp of adolescence, it was quite childish. But she was crying now, her emotions overflowing beyond her control. It was understandable.
'Poor thing.'
Beatrice probably never had anyone to accept such behavior from before. Better late than never—if I could fill that role now, it would be good. And perhaps that was the essence of being a 'daddy' rather than just a 'father.' The one I'd initially avoided but that Beatrice had wanted from me.
'...Looks like this is the right answer after all.'
I let out a short, empty chuckle and patted her small back diligently. It had taken a detour, but now I was certain. The attitude I should take as family for this adopted daughter. The proper mindset I needed to have.