The Father Who Hates Me -3-

-Peek. Olivia, sprawled face-down on the bed, hugged Gomtangi close and glanced out the window. Ricardo had gone to catch the thief. A tall man standing brazenly at the front gate, thief or not.

"Go away."

"..."

"I said go away!"

The tension crackling between them was no joke. It looked like a serious conversation, but from Olivia's perch on the second floor, all she could hear were shouts. Ricardo, fists clenched, yelling at the thief, then letting out a heavy sigh in frustration. The thief just stood there, silently watching Ricardo.

Looks fun...

It seemed like they were having an interesting talk, but they weren't letting her in on it. Feeling left out, Olivia squeezed the wriggling Gomtangi in her arms and muttered.

Hug me too...

Ricardo gestured for the thief to leave. The thief stood firm, holding his ground in silence. Push and resist, over and over. Olivia itched to do something, stuck watching the fun from afar.

Eek... I can't see...

Olivia poked her head further out the window.

I've seen him somewhere before.

Brown hair. Stubbornly wearing a black uniform. A sword with a golden hilt. A face she'd seen often in high society.

Someone always glued to the emperor's side... Who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was it...?

Olivia pondered deeply.

I don't know...

Ricardo and the man were talking. The stranger stared at Ricardo with a stony expression, while Ricardo let out a hollow laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

"You want me to do that?"

"..."

"Is that something a father would ask?"

"That's not for you to judge."

"...Ha."

Ricardo shook his head with a deep sigh. A familiar look. The same one he'd given her back at the academy when she'd confessed liking Mikhail—a face that said words weren't getting through.

Please don't...

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"Why... won't you listen to me...?"

"Why are you trying to stop me? I can like her too!"

"Because the young lady might get hurt. That's why."

"Shut up. Just shut up... You're just like everyone else. You won't cheer me on..."

"Young lady... please. Just this once, can't you listen to me?"

"I said shut up!"

The sigh and hair-sweep was Ricardo's go-to when he was pissed but couldn't say the harsh words. Frustrated, angry, but stuck between a rock and a hard place—that was his only outlet. Olivia, who'd pissed him off plenty at the academy, knew his habits better than anyone.

Things weren't going well. Ricardo was glaring at the man, who was giving him a murderous look right back. Heat haze-like energy started radiating from them.

Olivia clenched her fists watching.

N-No, don't...

Ricardo's arms would hurt. She was still worried about him.

A moment passed.

Shing...

They both drew their swords. Olivia yelled out the window.

"Gomtangi, bite—bite him!"

Woof...

Gomtangi burrowed deep into her arms.

"Eeeek..."

His own life was precious, after all.

A massive mountain loomed before my eyes.

Histania Rowen.

The strongest man in the empire stood right in front of me.

Just standing there, Rowen exuded overwhelming pressure. No way I could beat him—it didn't even cross my mind.

Rowen spoke to me, awkward as I stood there frozen.

"It's been a while."

His deep, resonant voice echoed in my ears. The voice of a swordsman who'd crossed countless lines of death. Sweat slicked my palms from the tension. We hadn't exchanged a word, but his sheer presence crushed me.

Why's he here?

I put on a serious face and said to Rowen,

"We don't buy from peddlers."

Pure survival instinct. Distilled from chasing off countless peddlers and hobos mistaking the mansion for an empty squat. When crisis hits, a butler strikes back efficiently—that's the creed. So I stared straight into Rowen's face, making him look like he'd been booted from home.

"No electric blankets, no germanium bracelets, no loans. Go home."

I desperately pretended not to know the man before me. Acknowledging him might derail my happy NEET life. Even if he could end the world, any creature threatening my layabout existence ranked below Gomtangi. That's a possessor's survival instinct.

Rowen looked flustered. A rare sight—the empire's knight commander thrown by a single line—but I swallowed my rising laugh and doubled down firmly.

"Go on."

"Do you even know who I am?"

"Winter's gonna be cold this year anyway. Just go."

"..."

At my pumpkin-hard words, Rowen clutched his throbbing forehead. I screamed internally.

Please leave.

Please leave.

Go home and soak your feet or something.

The world's a brutal place—why come to this dump? Just go home, I thought, but Rowen sighed deeply and said,

"First time being treated like a peddler."

He seemed to find it amusing. In the original story, Rowen hated self-introductions. His face was his calling card, his sword the empire's symbol. He deemed anyone who didn't know him unworthy of talk—a lofty knight.

When Rowen first met Yuria in the novel:

—"Who's this?"

—"I'm Histania..."

—"Looks like a peddler no matter how I squint."

—"..."

Rowen had left without a backward glance after Yuria dismissed him as a peddler. Mikhail later cleared it up by introducing him as his master, but it showed Rowen's weakness: slights to his fame.

His name, the weight of Histania—no one in the empire didn't know Rowen Histania. That's where his confidence came from.

If you don't know me, hit the books.

Something like that. So I was maxing out original knowledge to make him leave.

Rowen sighed deeply.

"I'm Histania Rowen."

My plan had failed.

"The empire's knight commander. The man they call the empire's sword."

"..."

"I came because I have something to say to you."

Rowen looked at me, his face set like the answer was mandatory. No escape. I bowed politely, mustering decorum.

"Butler to Lady Olivia Desmont. Ricardo, at your service."

I bent at the waist in greeting, then met his eyes squarely.

"An honor to meet the empire's sword. Forgive my earlier rudeness?"

A clumsy show of manners, implying you should've called ahead—your fault.

"If you'd given notice, I wouldn't have embarrassed myself. My apologies."

"...Enough."

Rowen waved it off, forgiving me. To lead him inside, I said politely,

It's humble, but please come in.

Rowen waved lightly, refusing. Just business, then I'll go. Fine. He wouldn't enter. Relief—the mansion was a mess, uncleaned. Plus, if the young lady saw him, she'd call him a "sword-brained moron." For her safety, I silently thanked Rowen's wise choice.

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Step.

Rowen scanned me top to bottom. Shoes, sword at my waist, red hair. Thoroughly. Then,

"You know Hanna Histania?"

"Yes, a recent friend."

"Friend..."

"Yes."

Rowen nodded slightly and got to the point.

"Malik told me about you. Said you're a brave, talented swordsman."

"Too kind."

Grateful client. Dropping flattery like that. Nice to hear, even from an unwelcome guest—the empire's sword, no less.

Last time Malik visited, he'd made one request.

—"Hey, Ricardo."

—"Yes."

—"Mind a favor...?"

Help reconcile with his dad and Hanna. Since I'd helped him patch things up, maybe I could open her heart too. He'd asked cautiously.

—"No."

I'd refused flat-out. Meddling in family drama as an outsider? Wrong. Knowing the future where apathy kills Hanna made me want in even less. Telling her to open up to a lifelong tormentor? Cruel. Bluntly, she wouldn't listen anyway. And it wasn't her choice.

So I'd turned Malik down. Family matters? Steer clear—that's my rule.

I waited coldly for Rowen's words.

"I came with a request."

"I thought you, who put a sword in Hanna's hand, could do it."

Bad vibes.

"Make her drop the sword. Or... make her want to."

I clenched my fist.

"Is that something a father says?"

"You're overstepping."

"Orphan like me wouldn't know."

Blue aura exploded from Rowen. Intense enough to sting my skin. I countered with faint aura of my own—not to win, but to bite the throat if I got close. Smart play. Aura gathered at my fingertips. Even a bear flinches from a bee sting.

Rowen ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠drew. I drew too.

Aura converged at our blade tips.

From the second floor, a booming voice.

"Guards! You lazy tax thieves! Thief here!!!"

The young lady dangled Gomtangi like a shield, hiding her face.

"D-Don't fight!"

Eyes squeezed shut, trembling. Really worried about me.

"Pfft...! Understood."

I chuckled softly, sheathed my sword. Then to the baffled Rowen,

"Go. Looks like you and Hanna aren't getting close anytime soon."

I heard "insolent punk" muttered behind me, but I brushed it off lightly and headed inside the mansion.