The Evil Woman's Father -3-
Darbav Desmont. One of only five grand archmages in the empire, and the head of the Desmont family, whose power rivaled that of the Mage Tower itself. Scrolls, magic tools, artifacts—he was the patriarch of the Desmont house, which supplied thirty percent of all magical items in the empire. And beyond that, he was a businessman who had expanded into politics, diplomacy, industry, and more. Olivia's father.
In the novel, Darbav appeared as a villain. He prioritized pragmatism over justice, ugly survival over righteous sacrifice—a cunning human. When the empire teetered on the brink because of the heretics, he spat back at the crown prince's plea for help with, "You shunned us for using black magic, and now you come crawling? How pathetic." He was human enough to settle scores like that.
Above all, he cherished his daughter Olivia.
Olivia slapped the crown prince? Was Olivia hurt?
Olivia's on a diet...? Summon the empire's finest physicians. She must have a serious illness.
He doted on her so much that the nobles called him a girl-dad. He adored the daughter who took after him, and in his eyes, her spoiled(?) charms were far cuter than his stoic son.
That's why, in the story, Darbav utterly despised Mikhail and Yuria. He hated them—the ones who drove Olivia to her death in the novel—and as a villain, he earned plenty of reader hate for it.
To protect his crumbling house, he turned to black magic and met a miserable end. But personally, he was one of my favorite characters. I liked his human side.
With Olivia not dying, his fate had changed drastically, but even so, among the people I met in the novel, he ranked in my top five as a genuinely good man.
Anyway, the Darbav I remembered was a good person. Cold to outsiders, warm to those in his circle. He treasured his family and would sacrifice others to protect his own—a very human patriarch.
That was the head of the Desmont house, Olivia's father, as I recalled him.
Of course, after the young miss used black magic, all ties with him were severed.
*
Time seemed to freeze.
I'd planned to seek him out eventually, but I hadn't expected to run into him this soon. I'd even thought I might never see him again, so at the patriarch's sudden appearance, I just stood there like an idiot.
"It's been a while, Ricardo."
"...Pa...Patriarch?"
I hurriedly bowed at the waist, offering proper respect.
"I pay my respects to the great leader of the Desmont house."
"Enough. No need for formalities."
Darbav waved it off with a sour expression. He hated this kind of pomp, and with a calm voice, he added,
"It's been nearly two years. You've grown into quite the handsome man—unrecognizable."
"You're too kind."
"Still as humble as ever. So... how have you been?"
How have you been? It was a simple question, easy to answer, but I couldn't respond right away. What was I supposed to say, after being cast out by the house?
I couldn't muster the words. A fake smile claiming I'd been fine would ring too hollow, given the massive trouble I'd caused the family.
"Well..."
As if reading my mind, the patriarch gave a gentle smile, as if to say not to worry.
"Speak freely. I'm curious how you've all been faring."
"...Thanks to your grace, Patriarch, we've been doing well."
"Grace? The house abandoned you."
Darbav muttered with a bitter look.
"No way you'd be 'fine' after that..."
As he said, we'd been discarded by the house. The young miss's use of black magic was a scandal big enough to topple the entire family.
Families jealous of the Desmonts. The imperial family starting to check our growing influence. Even the Mage Tower, eyeing our magic tool business expansion.
At a time when everyone was watching the Desmonts warily, the young miss's incident exploded. Darbav chose to cut us loose.
The best choice. The only one a patriarch could make.
I didn't resent it. I would've done the same.
Though the abandoned young miss had wept bitterly over it.
While she lay unconscious, Darbav had spoken to me in our meeting, his voice ice-cold.
"You know this is partly your fault, right?"
"I do. I'll humbly accept any punishment you deem fit."
"I permitted you as Olivia's butler to protect her by your side. To keep her from straying down bad paths."
"..."
"Even with butlers of better pedigree and talent, I chose you for that one reason."
"..."
"And this is the result?"
"I'm sorry."
"Once Olivia recovers, I'll send her to the convent. So... don't set foot in the Desmont house again. Return to the academy. I'll cover your tuition."
"Patriarch..."
"If I could, I'd tear you both apart. Keep quiet."
"I'm the young miss's butler."
"What does that matter now? Look at the mess."
"Even so, I believe it's my duty to serve her. If you forbid it, I'll camp outside the convent."
"Are you insane?"
"No. Perfectly sane."
It started from my stubbornness, knowing the future. Against the patriarch's decision to cut losses and avoid scandal—to sever the "tail"—I rebelled. My burden was the house's indifference and the penalties for black magic.
I knew that. And since he'd made the call, we exchanged only bitter, wordless smiles.
Back then, Darbav had been furious, and Olivia's brother had even grabbed my collar in rage.
And the young miss had been abandoned by her family.
His bitter smile now unsettled me. It was my fault, after all.
A brief silence fell, then a question came from Darbav.
"I heard the rumors. You paid off the debt?"
"Yes."
"...Wasn't planning on that."
"Pardon?"
"Never mind."
Darbav muttered softly, then glanced at the young miss sitting beside me.
She still couldn't accept the closure of her beloved chocolate shop, steeped in old memories, and stared blankly, radiating melancholy about life.
"Young miss...!"
"My trip's purpose is gone..."
"Pull yourself together! The young miss... the Patriarch is here...!"
"My favorite shop... The baker uncle said he'd give me extras next time. He has to keep his promise!"
Her soul had checked out.
Darbav eyed her wheelchair-bound form from behind and frowned.
"That girl..."
I figured he'd soured at the sight of her state, but then he said something utterly unexpected.
"Your girlfriend?"
"Pardon?"
"I thought there was something brewing between you and Olivia. Was I wrong?"
"?"
Darbav, mentally crossing off a marriage match, gave a wry smile tinged with regret.
"Well, you're at that age to have a girlfriend. I get it... but it's a bit disappointing. Unless I slipped you some backroom cash to break up."
"I don't follow."
"That girl."
Darbav nodded toward the wheelchair.
"She's not your girlfriend?"
"No."
I answered firmly.
"I see."
Color returned to Darbav's pale face.
The young miss was still lost in the chocolate shop; I'd introduce her later. For now, I focused on Darbav. No point dragging her in when even I didn't know what to say.
I had a duty to take her side if he got angry, so I wanted to avoid needless friction.
I needed time to think of the right words, to smooth things for a gentle conversation between them.
With a heavy heart, I broached the topic with Darbav.
"What brings you here, Patriarch?"
"Ah."
He held up the paper bag in his hand.
"Olivia crossed my mind after so long. Thought I'd drop by. Wondered if it might be open."
"I see."
"She loved this place... Couldn't leave empty-handed, so I grabbed some snacks from a nearby shop on my way back."
Darbav pulled a chocolate conch pastry from the bag and offered it to me.
"Want to try one?"
"No thank you. I ate breakfast."
"Too bad. It's delicious."
Darbav was warm. I'd braced for curses—Do you know where this is? How dare you show your face?—but his unexpected kindness sparked hope.
His past fury and declaration to never see me again were fresh in my mind, so this gave me courage. I took a risk and asked what burned in me.
"Patriarch."
He looked up from his pastry, crumbs on his lips—a sight that reminded me of someone nearby.
"What's up? Want some now?"
"No. Just one thing I'm curious about..."
"Curious?"
He tucked the pastry away, permitting my question.
"Speak."
"Don't you hate us?"
"Hm?"
"We put the house at risk. The excommunication too..."
Darbav nodded, not denying it.
"We did."
We did?
He gave an answer I hadn't expected.
"I was planning to visit you soon. To discuss the future."
"What do you...?"
"You asked if I hated you? ...No. I even considered striking Olivia from the family registry after the huge mess she caused—nearly toppling us..."
"...After seeing something strange."
Darbav gazed skyward with a wistful expression.
"They say no parent can best their child."
He spoke to me with a complicated look.
"How has Olivia been?"
His worried question hung in the air. Just then, the young miss, finishing her daze, turned her wheelchair and looked ahead.
"Ricardo. Since it's come to this, maybe we should open a shop oursel—Huh?"
She finally noticed her father before her. Her eyes widened hugely.
"D-Da..."
Her stammering voice choked with emotion.
"Da...ddy?"
"Ol...ivia?"
"Oli...via?"
In an instant—faster than I could react—the man before us vanished.
With blinding speed, Darbav lunged forward.
By the time I blinked...
"Hiet!!"
"Heuk!"
The father and daughter's tearful reunion unfolded.
Come to think of it, I'd forgotten—Darbav was an utter girl-dad.
"Why are you so thin?!"
"Ricardo starved me!"
"You bastard!"
"..."
Their long-awaited reunion was hard to process.