282 – The Deeds I Committed -3-

-Daddy… Daddy… Please save me…!

In the scene filled with the desperate screams of a young girl, Lowen stood alone.

‘…’

His body was drenched in blood.

His face was soaked with tears.

And there he stood, alone, in front of his daughter whose voice was hoarse.

It was a scene he had seen every night, so he knew it was a dream, but as a father, his legs moved on their own, running even though he knew it wasn’t real.

‘Histania Hanna…!’

Lowen’s hands, kneeling before Hanna, couldn’t reach her. As if only allowed to watch as a sinner, his hands stirring the air were powerless and faded away.

What a pitiful sight.

The head of a family, crying. Yet, as time passed, the weight of emotions that didn’t lessen made him repeat the same actions over and over.

He thought it pitiful that he, who hadn’t cried even when his father died, was now showing tears in a mere dream.

‘Hanna… Please open your eyes…’

Regretting something that hadn’t happened.

And at the moment his daughter’s breath faltered.

Lowen awoke from the nightmare.

“Heave… Heave…”

Lowen wiped his sweat-drenched face. Seeing the damp cheeks, it seemed he had been crying.

“How disgraceful.”

Seated on the bed, Rowen let out a hollow laugh and murmured softly.

“No matter how much I train my body, it seems emotions cannot be trained…”

He had swung his sword in countless battlefields, led many to victory, yet in this nightmare, he could not claim triumph. Rowen chuckled bitterly at his own reflection.

In dreams, he was endlessly frail, a weakling with nothing to offer, unable to lift his head.

Still, Rowen did not think his choices were wrong.

It was for his daughter.

For his family.

For the path of his house.

Even if it felt stubborn, he did not believe he was wrong to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors who built the current Histania. If he was wrong, then so were they.

But.

-“Never appear before me again.”

-“I will not take over as head of the Histania family.”

Rowen’s emotions were unwittingly shaken by the outcome of what he thought was the best choice. Albeit faintly.

His daughter had left his side.

His eldest son, whom he thought he had raised without lack, had left to pursue a ‘dream.’

“…”

Was this truly right?

The visible results were devastating.

Could his stubbornness still be correct?

Rowen sat on the bed, his thoughts tangled in repetition. It seemed he was finally grasping where things had gone wrong.

The cause did not seem far away.

All arrows pointed in one direction; perhaps he was in denial, unwilling to accept it.

So Rowen decided to seek out a man.

-“It’s because you lack the talent I teach.”

The young man who had been the start of it all. He seemed likely to reveal everything without reserve.

“…”

Rowen sighed heavily as he watched the rising sun.

***

At the lady’s mansion in Hamel.

-Clatter.

Rowen, seated in the drawing room, gazed silently at his tea, steam rising fervently.

“…”

What words had he come to say?

I stared back at Rowen, who wished for a private audience, responding to his silence with my own. I had nothing particular to say either.

‘…Is it because of the heretic?’

With a faint smile, I greeted Rowen, whose lips were firmly sealed. It was about time he said something, anything, to break the tension.

“Welcome to the Desmont estate, Lord of Histania.”

“…”

“I’m not sure if it will be to your liking, but this is tea brewed from mandrake root. It’s good for vitality and health, please have some.”

Rowen, observing the steamy tea, nodded lightly.

“Thank you.”

“Not at all. It’s an honor for us that the Empire’s sword has graced our home.”

I couldn’t quite grasp why Rowen had come to the estate. We weren’t on good terms, nor was he here to see the lady.

There was a guess I had in mind, but given the silence so far, it seemed unlikely.

As if understanding the turmoil within me, Rowen, who had kept his lips sealed, finally spoke.

“…Ricardo, was it?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I heard you’ve done something significant in the capital.”

“Not at all.”

“And in the North too.”

“…”

As my expression turned cold, Rowen spoke in a light tone, as if to ease my worries.

“It’s information known only to a few. There’s no need to worry about it leaking.”

I remained silent.

His words might not be praise after all. A check or suspicion. I thought it reasonable to harbor doubts about someone so entangled with heresy.

“I’m not scolding you. It’s commendable to achieve such feats at a young age.”

“Thank you for the praise.”

“I would ask why you seek to hide your deeds… but it would make for a long conversation, so I shall refrain.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

“But there is one thing I must ask.”

Rowen asked me in a heavy voice.

“Was the apostle strong?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I replied. I couldn’t fabricate the apostle’s strength.

“Yes, he was truly strong.”

Rowen nodded slightly and then threw another question at me.

“How many do you think could stand against him by today’s standards?”

“It’s difficult to say due to my limited interactions, but I believe only the Lord of Histania, the Tower Master, and Lord Desmont would be a match.”

“So, there might be four more.”

Rowen nodded, adding, ‘That makes five, including you.’

Certainly, one could think of the Mercenary King, the Blue King, the Empress, and others, but since they are not favorable towards the empire, such words did not come forth. I shrugged my shoulders, infusing a hint of denial in my response to Rowen.

“I am not such a great person.”

“You’re too modest.”

Only then did Rowen lift his head to look at me squarely. Detaching his gaze from the teacup, Rowen scanned me and uttered a short exclamation, ‘You’ve become a monster,’ and nodded.

I sat in front of Rowen, clasping my hands.

“So, what is it that you wish to tell me?”

“I’d like to talk a bit more.”

“Is it because you want to recruit me into the knighthood?”

“Your arrogance is too much. The royal knights can’t accept someone as unruly as you. And being strong doesn’t mean everyone can join.”

Rowen took a sip of tea to wet his dry throat and spoke to me in a lighter tone.

“You said you were Hanna’s teacher.”

“…”

“The reason I came to you today is not as the empire’s sword, but as Hanna’s father.”

“Perhaps I should have talked more.”

“In the empire, you’re the only one who can speak to me like this. Even the emperor can’t speak to me so casually… You have quite the nerve.”

“Maybe it’s because it’s worth a try. And it’s also a meeting with a parent.”

“…”

Rowen exhaled a heavy breath and looked at me, his expression one of uncertainty about where to begin.

It wasn’t about the heretics.

Nor about recruiting for the knighthood.

He had come because of Hanna…

I struggled to anticipate what to say, so I focused on the words that would fall from Rowen’s lips. In the novel, Rowen would speak warmly, but the Rowen I experienced firsthand was a character devoid of paternal affection.

Before Rowen could utter something bizarre, I warned him.

“If you intend to speak about the last duel, I will not respond.”

“…Why would you think I’d speak of that?”

“Because there would be no other reason for you to seek me out…”

“Is that how I appeared to you?”

“Even if not to me, others would have seen you the same way.”

“…”

Rowen took another sip of his tea.

Muttering ‘Not losing a single word…’ he wiped his forehead with a dry hand.

“Ricardo.”

“Yes.”

“How do I appear to you?”

“You seem like the strongest person in the empire.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. How do I appear as a father?”

With a slight smile, I asked Rowen, knowing he too needed to prepare himself.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

Rowen nodded awkwardly with a forced smile, as if to say any answer would suffice for the troubles he harbored.

Without a shred of consideration for Rowen, I spoke bluntly.

“I think you’re the worst.”

“…”

“To someone like me, who lacks parents, you appear as a father who only asserts his own stubbornness, unnecessary in my eyes.”

“…”

“As Hannah’s mentor and as an individual, I view you very negatively, Lord. So much so that I wish I could cast you out.”

“…”

Rowen, with a heavy expression, asked me.

“What should I do then? To mend this relationship, should I acknowledge Hannah’s sword, or should I offer her my full support for her future?”

Facing the stiff Rowen, I shrugged my shoulders and said.

“That, I do not know.”

How could I?

An orphan, unaware of their parents’ faces.

“The certainty is that Miss Hannah will not accept the gift from the lord.”

“…”

“The gaze seems fundamentally misplaced, my lord.”

Lowen nodded heavily.

“I see. Yes…”

Lowen began to acknowledge.

“It was wrong from the start.”

Speaking of his own mistake.

And then.

“Eeeek…!”

Olivia was bored.