I don’t really get my father’s romantic nonsense.
Even though we were quietly moving rooms, the situation had somehow escalated to the point where it wouldn’t be surprising if that reckless Agiel burst in at any moment. So, before we got caught, Mom and I decided to head back to the Spirit World right away.
Apparently there’s a whole bunch of stuff to do tomorrow—gathering evidence for the divorce mediation, and all that jazz.
Funny how it’s just like Earth, really. I was thinking that as I let Lauren run her fingers through my hair.
“Tomorrow’s the big moment. Will you keep an eye on things for me?”
“Of course, my love.”
But Dad just buried his face in Mom’s chest, refusing to let go of her slender waist.
He looked utterly drained—probably from facing Agiel. Mom noticed, of course, and smiled, indulging him like a doting goddess. Her hand gently stroking his head… yeah, she looked exactly like one.
But my brain was delivering the facts, as usual.
Wait, wait—weren’t you supposed to be leaving?
“Papa’s really grumpy, huh?”
I said that, squinting at the man, wondering if all guys liked pie. My father, startled by my daughter’s unmissable remark, lifted his face from the pie.
“Huh? Elen!? Where’d you hear that!?”
“I learn every day! Papa loves pie!”
“I do, but only Mom’s! Not anyone else’s!?”
“Admitting you’re grumpy and owning it? That’s actually kind of cool, Papa.”
“Huh? Really? Cool? Say it again, Elen!”
“Papa being grumpy is cool!”
“Wait—why can’t I just feel happy about that?!”
Me and my dad messing around, the three men watching us just stared, slack-jawed.
“…That’s really our older brother?”
Sauvel’s slightly complicated words earned Albert’s agreement.
“That’s really the real Lovell, I believe.”
“Yes. Seems very happy, indeed.”
I giggle uncontrollably, cheek pressed against my father’s stubble.
He’s about eighteen, and his age seems frozen—so little beard growth, really. Or rather, no beard growth at all, seems to be his nature. He insists, “It’s growing! It’s growing!” with full conviction, but his cheeks never scratch or prickle when I rub against them. Honestly, I’m relieved.
Children’s skin is delicate. That scratching sensation? From a kid’s point of view, it’s basically a weapon.
But to my father, the romance lies in the scratchiness—making children squirm, pretending to enjoy it.
…Honestly, I don’t get it.
After being thoroughly teased by my father and Lauren, I returned to the Spirit World with my mother.
Lauren looked absolutely heartbroken when she found out I’d come back.
"Grandpa, I’ll be back again!"
"Grandpa is waiting for you with all my heart!!"
The silly old man, all gooey and smitten, was so ridiculously adorable I couldn’t help but rush over and plant a little kiss on his cheek.
We waved goodbye and teleported away.
＊＊＊
"……Lord Lovell."
Suddenly, Lauren turned sharply toward me, her usual stern, serious expression back in place. The same woman who’d just been all over her grandpa like syrup on pancakes couldn’t be more different now.
"Marvelous. Simply marvelous. I’ve never seen such a wonderful, utterly precious child in all my life...!!"
Clutching her fists, trembling, tears streaming down her face, she delivered this with fierce intensity. I took a half-step back, but Lovell just smirked, nose in the air.
"My daughter is the best in the world."
"Absolutely correct, Your Excellency."
Indeed, her daughter looked at me with eyes so stunningly beautiful I’d never seen their like.
Her hair gleamed like polished silk, her face a perfect replica of a goddess—already promising to grow even more lovely with time. Praise could never do her justice.
Just a smile from that sweet face, and my heart warms up like a hearth on a winter’s night.
"She may carry my blood, but she’s mostly spirit. She’s eight, but still growing slowly. She’s a rare treasure even among the Spirit World’s finest. I’d rather not have her seen by outsiders, but... well."
"Good heavens… Such a wondrous child! No wonder she’s the daughter of Lord Lovell. And she’s the same age as Master Gadiel’s child? I thought she was only about five."
"Same age as my own child?"
"Ah yes, I heard she has a child in the city. Then she’s even less useful to me now, isn’t she?"
Even if I managed to divorce Agiel, there was still the matter of an heir—meaning a child might still remain. That’s precisely why we’re going through this divorce mediation. But Sauvel already has a child with another woman.
To think the child from the city and Amiel are the same age—Lovell was mildly surprised.
If Agiel’s child wasn’t Sauvel’s, then there was no way it could be registered under the Vanklyft Family name. And Agiel had already declared that in front of the servants.
It was fortunate, in a way, that the child looked exactly like Agiel. At least it proved she carried royal blood.
Which meant, in this case, it was fortunate that Amiel bore absolutely no resemblance to Sauvel.
“Sauvel, if you’re asked anything, just say you don’t remember ever fathering a child with that woman.”
“……”
“That’s the truth, isn’t it? There’s no doubt about it, right?”
"Yes. I can say that much with certainty. There's no way I could've ever touched that woman. We hate each other too much."
"Enough."
The four men gathered to sort through documents for tomorrow’s affairs. At that moment, a maid reported that Agiel wished to share a meal with Lovell.
"We’ve got paperwork to finish for tomorrow. Tell him to eat first."
"Understood."
I glanced sideways at the maid bowing her head, then gave instructions to Lauren to accompany her.
"That woman. She’ll throw a fit. Tell her I said to wait until the atmosphere settles."
"Of course."
She bowed again, and Lauren, along with the maid, withdrew.
When she heard Lauren would be with her, the maid’s face visibly relaxed. Probably used to that woman’s tantrums toward servants.
"This isn’t your toy box."
Frowning, she spat out the words with ill will.
She’d use every trick in the book to kick that woman out. Lovell and Sauvel had been talking late into the night.
***
The news brought to the castle sent shockwaves through the court.
"Tomorrow, the hero returns to the castle."
The king panicked at those words. A man who’d been missing for ten years was coming back.
True, the man’s family had been elevated using Agiel’s existence—but the king hadn’t given Lovell any reward of his own.
And besides, the family’s inheritance had already passed to his younger brother. The king and his advisors had been arguing for ages about what to give Lovell as a reward.
"What should we do about Lord Agiel...?"
The sudden voice made the king clutch his head.
Lovell’s obsession with Agiel has always been excessive. It’s too late to regret spoiling him like a late-born child, but still, one can’t help but think about it. He’s got a grandson now, but I’d bet he’s itching to return to his original path.
"...I hear relations with Vanclift’s current head are terrible. He’ll probably demand a divorce."
"Lord Lovell broke off his engagement ten years ago. That’s why Lord Sauvel could marry him. Lovell won’t be going back to his former life. He’s already married to his younger brother’s wife."
A report has come in about Agiel’s reckless behavior—everyone around him finds it unbearable, utterly detestable.
He might even be ordered to take Agiel into the castle as a reward, ten years after the fact.
"...So it’s finally come to this..."
The king, clutching his head, leaves his courtiers speechless.
"Summon Raffilia," the king said, his voice weak.
"Bring the crown prince here!"
A courtier shouts at the king's command.
To hold together a nation worn thin by the monster tempest a decade ago, they’d hastily shoved the most troublesome child—right into the Vanklyft Family. Now, the bill’s come due.
The Vanklyft Family had already lost both their lord and heir at the time.
They should’ve known a child still too young to be an adult couldn’t possibly hold the family and lands together. But they’d bowed to the people’s cries, fixated on short-term fixes, and forced the boy upon them.
They’d been sending regular payments to the Vanklyft Family for years—yet now they’re hearing reports that Agiel has squandered every last coin with perfect efficiency.
And now, with the family’s funds drained, people are whispering the Vanklyft Family’s nothing but a burning chariot, thanks to Agiel.
I thought kids would just grow up when they got older. That’s why Agiel’s selfishness was overlooked back then—because she was still underage.
I remembered the truth: the king had turned his eyes away when Lovell was found.
For the first time, I found my daughter’s existence—something I’d just ignored in the rush of things—annoying.
***
The rumor that Lovell was coming to the castle spread like wildfire.
People flocked to the king, eager to witness history in the making. Most of them just wanted to see the moment Lovell reported back.
A hero’s return is always a joyous occasion. And Lovell had been powerful enough to lead the army back then.
Lately, there’d been a sour smell around the borders. But the moment word of Lovell’s return spread, that shadow vanished completely.
A man who could affect the nation’s defense this deeply? The country couldn’t possibly stay silent about him.
“His Grace Lovell Vanclift has arrived!”
A soldier’s voice rang out, and the great hall’s door creaked open slowly. From within stepped a figure so imposing, the crowd gasped.
A young man who hadn’t aged a day in ten years. His hair and eyes—no trace of his former self. That very absence spoke volumes about the brutality of the Monster Tempest.
His hair, once vibrant, now seemed drained of color, like silver threads spun from exhaustion.
His eyes, altered by long exposure to the unknown Spirit World.
The youth, who had slept for so long, looked as though time itself had frozen around him.
He’d always been the kind of face the girls had fawned over, but now it was polished to an even sharper grace.
Lovell approached the king and knelt before him.
"Look up."
Lovell raised his head at the king’s words. His eyes weren’t smiling at all.
Not the proud, triumphant face of a returning hero. No—something sharper. Like he was facing an enemy.
The king and court shivered.
They knew—something bad was coming.