Chapter 65
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: The Cat in the Tree
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However, Nassar showed no sign of welcoming Ellensia at all.
"My, that looks a bit dangerous. Where's Her Highness's escort knight?"
He muttered nonchalantly.
In the meantime, the distance between the two and the tree had narrowed considerably. Close enough to make out the cat.
Feeling uneasy, Philomel shifted her gaze upward into the tree.
And where Ellensia had reached out... was a cat with silver fur.
'Why are you showing up there!'
She'd kept telling herself it couldn't be. There was no way he couldn't climb down from a tree.
But Ellensia seemed to have gotten the wrong idea.
She called out hopefully to the cat.
"You must be so scared, right? Just hold on a little longer. I'll give you some yummy fish when you come down, so don't be too frightened!"
Rguin, down below, ignored everyone as he focused intently on grooming the cat.
"What are you doing up there!"
Philomel bolted forward without thinking. Her one firm resolve was to retrieve that cat as quickly as possible.
"Philomel!"
Nassar chased after her.
By the time Philomel reached the tree, Rguin spotted her and leaped down.
The cat tucked neatly into his arms. A successful catch.
"Ah! Ow..."
She staggered, caught her foot on a tree root, and fell flat on her backside.
But the misfortune didn't end there.
"Princess!"
Ellensia, who had been clinging to the tree, was plummeting down. Straight toward Philomel.
Philomel squeezed her eyes shut tight.
Yet the impact she dreaded never came.
"Are you alright!"
Peeking through slitted eyes, she saw Nassar gazing down at her with concern. He had caught Ellensia in his outstretched arms.
With no reply from Philomel, Nassar's expression darkened further.
"Are you hurt badly?"
The answer came from somewhere entirely unexpected.
Ellensia cried out brightly.
"I'm fine!"
Once set down on the ground, she gracefully lifted the hem of her skirt.
"Hello. Thank you for saving me. Might I ask your name?"
Philomel gasped inwardly. This was the exact moment those two were supposed to fall for each other.
Philomel scrambled to her feet and tried to put some distance between herself and them.
That was when Jeremiah, who had been standing some distance away, rushed over in a single stride.
"You! Are you okay? Did you fall?"
"I'm not hurt at all. More importantly, quickly find somewhere to hide..."
In truth, she had no plans to go far. She intended to watch the pair from a bit away. It was a perfect chance to observe Ellensia's reaction.
But the situation unfolded in the exact opposite way she'd expected.
A familiar voice rang out from right behind Philomel.
"Wait a moment!"
Nassar had followed her. Ellensia was still near the tree.
"Why'd you come? What about the Princess?"
"I told Her Highness she had a prior engagement, so it was fine. We can do proper introductions later."
To Philomel's flustered question, Nassar replied calmly.
"More importantly, you're not hurt anywhere, are you? I'm sorry. If I'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't have fallen."
"I'm fine. But Nassar... by any chance, do you feel strange right now? Like anything off?"
Philomel peered intently at Nassar's face, searching for the telltale signs of budding love.
"Strange how?"
"Like your heart racing?"
"...A bit, yeah."
He looked away.
So he had fallen in love?
"Want to go to Princess Ellensia?"
"...Do I have to?"
Nassar sounded almost petulant in his question, looking somewhat miffed.
"Not really."
"Then I'll stay right here."
As he spoke, Nassar stepped even closer to Philomel's side.
In the end, Philomel had no choice but to concede.
Nassar hadn't fallen for Ellensia. Another piece of reality had diverged from Princess Ellensia.
After wrapping up the council meeting and heading back to the imperial palace, Justis found Ellensia blocking his path.
Thoroughly downcast, she lit up at the sight of him and came running.
"Daddy, Daddy!"
"What is it?"
"I got hurt here."
She thrust out her right ankle. A faint scrape marked the skin—nothing serious, no scar likely, but her sniffling suggested it stung quite a bit.
"You'll need treatment. I'll send a physician."
"Is that all? Nothing else?"
"...?"
"You see my injury and all you can think is 'treatment'?"
"Then what else should I think?"
Ellensia's face crumpled instantly.
"Daddy, you're so mean! Your daughter's hurt, and you can't even worry about me?"
With that, she stormed off in the opposite direction. She ran just fine, so it clearly wasn't a bad injury.
Justis murmured in a low voice.
"I have no clue what that kid's thinking."
Count Polan, who had been watching carefully, ventured a cautious remark.
"If I may speculate, Your Highness probably wanted a warmer reaction from Your Majesty."
"Warmer reaction?"
"Yes. Your response had a rather formal air to it."
"So telling her to get treated is wrong?"
"No, no, not wrong at all. But if you responded a touch more affectionately, wouldn't Her Highness be delighted?"
The emperor fell briefly silent in thought before speaking.
"Then you do it."
"Pardon?"
"You have kids, so you get it. That 'warm reaction' thing. I can't quite grasp it—show me an example."
"Haha, no need to demonstrate something like that here..."
"Now."
"..."
"If your child came home hurt, how would you react?"
Polan knew from years of service that the emperor was dead serious.
Putting on a half-hearted show in front of such a liege would earn him a reprimand.
'If my little girl came home crying with a scraped knee...'
Imagining his precious daughter right there—the apple of his eye—Polan dropped to a kneel and unleashed an award-worthy performance.
"Oh no! My baby girl, you're hurt? Heavens, look at that leg all scraped up. Daddy'll blow on it for you! Who dared hurt my little princess? What, a stupid rock? Daddy's gonna give it a real scary scolding, so don't worry! I'll yank out every rock in the neighborhood!"
By midway, he'd gotten way too immersed. The vivid imagining had actually tugged at his heartstrings.
Justis fixed Polan with a look of disdain.
"...You really do that?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"You got no shame?"
"I do! But when it comes to showing love to your own kid, why fuss over shame!"
Those words halted Justis mid-stride, as he had started to walk ahead.
"...Shouldn't fuss over shame, then."
"Least that's how I see it. If you get hung up on every little thing and don't tell 'em you love 'em enough, then they grow up and leave... That's too heartbreaking."
A moment later, he let out a groan.
"...I get it now. I didn't know. Thought all fathers were like me."
To his lord's lonely retreating figure, Polan chose his words carefully.
"It's not too late to start now. Even if it feels late, you can't stop trying to reach out."
"...Understood. I'll try doing it like you."
"...Pardon?"
"That warm reaction you showed—I'll give it."
"...A sudden switch like that might be tough. Besides, Princess Ellensia isn't some three-year-old like my daughter..."
"The core principle's the same. I've got the gist. Make a huge fuss over the kid's wound, treat it, then promise to get rid of whatever caused it. That right?"
The count inwardly wondered, 'Does it really work like that?' but couldn't bring himself to discourage the emperor.
After all, he'd been the one urging fatherly affection and drawing closer—now he feared saying anything else.
Yet Polan's hesitation sparked yet another mishap.