DDD 17

The jolt of the carriage barely managed to wake Vestas.

He lifted his daughter, who was still sprawled on the carriage floor, into his arms as if cradling her and set her down on the seat in front of him.

For a moment, Vestas stared blankly down at his adorable daughter.

Clarissa, still wearing her bright, innocent smile, waited for him to speak.

After a long stretch of silence, Vestas slowly parted his lips.

“Clarissa, your father isn’t going out to have fun.”

“I know that much!”

It wasn’t quite what Clarissa had been waiting for, but his voice was still full of affection.

He did his very best to soothe his daughter gently.

But Clarissa had no intention—none at all—of giving up.

She neatly folded her hands in front of her chest and spoke as if in prayer.

“Just a little! I’ll only look for a little bit! I’ll stay quiet and won’t get in the way! I’m all grown up now, you know!”

“Clarissa.”

Vestas’s expression gradually hardened.

His voice, turning as cold as thin ice, no longer belonged to a father speaking to his child—it was the voice of the Chancellor of the Asgard Empire.

“What isn’t allowed, isn’t allowed.”

His firm golden eyes fixed on Clarissa.

Clarissa clicked her tongue under her breath and rolled her eyes.

She hadn’t wanted to use this method.

Her gaze dropped diagonally downward. Still keeping her hands neatly clasped, she lightly bounced her feet, which barely touched the floor.

She pushed out her lips a little and let the air leak out of her cheeks.

“Hing…”

At that pitiful whimper, Vestas’s shoulders stiffened visibly.

Clarissa didn’t miss her chance. She tilted her lowered eyes upward slightly and asked,

“Is it really not allowed?”

“……”

“Really?”

Clarissa’s performance as the most pitiful and lovable daughter in the world was, quite frankly, flawless.

If anyone from a theater troupe had seen her, they would have rushed over on the spot and begged her to become an actress.

Yes—an excellent performance.

“Seeing Daddy work…”

Whether Vestas realized this or not, he simply took in the sight of his dejected daughter’s face as something precious.

The troublesome matters he would soon have to deal with had long since vanished from his mind.

“I really wanted to see it.”

His beloved daughter—looking at him with such desperate eyes!
She wanted to see him at work—what could possibly be more important than that?

Vestas felt the disappointment that had built up over the past few days melt away.

Without a shred of dignity left, he hurriedly covered his softening mouth with his hand.

Clarissa’s sparkling eyes waited eagerly for his permission.

“…But you have to listen to ‘Daddy,’ okay?”

“Yes! Daddy is the best!”

Clarissa rewarded her father with the brightest smile she could muster.

With nothing but that smile.

Of course, Clarissa did not take Vestas’s words at face value.

The moment he left to attend an audience with the Emperor, Clarissa started running.

Someone shouted in surprise, but she didn’t look back and kept sprinting forward.

The palace maids who failed to catch up could only watch her retreating figure, but Clarissa paid them no mind.

She raced through the vast corridors of the imperial palace and only stopped once she reached a wide open space that looked like a garden, where she bent over and gulped for air.

She shook her head, checking whether anyone was nearby.

The moment she confirmed she was alone, she plopped down on the spot and began grumbling without restraint.

“This place is stupidly huge… And how am I supposed to find that guy from here, anyway?”

Charging boldly into the imperial palace had gone relatively smoothly.

But the palace was far more massive than she had expected, true to its name, and Clarissa had no choice but to admit she was about as small as an ant.

And in this enormous space, there was only one person she had to find.

Delvina von Marquis—the Crown Prince’s swordsmanship instructor, and the man who would one day become Aryan’s mentor.

A guardian deity of Asgard who, even past fifty, still stood at the forefront of the battlefield to protect the Empire—and the very person who, about three years from now, would raise Aryan, who had never properly held a sword, into a Sword Master.

The current Aryan was an unscratched lottery ticket.

There was no need to wonder what prize lay inside. Aryan possessed the unmistakable blessing of the “gods.”

If she could discover that just a little earlier than in the original story—

Then maybe he could grow up under the protection of the imperial palace. Maybe his shattered self-esteem could recover a bit. And more than anything… maybe he wouldn’t have to go through that hell.

In truth, Aryan’s hardships were only just beginning.

Clarissa clenched her fingers. Her legs, which had been burning from running, and her pounding heart no longer hurt.

She stood up and wiped away the sweat running down her face.

Passing through the open grounds, she ventured deeper inside.

She wandered around, planning to grab any palace maid she could find nearby—but no one was in sight.

I need to at least make my face known while I have the chance, or I won’t be able to plan for the future… Father has probably realized I’m gone by now, hasn’t he?

With each step she took, her anxiety grew.

The garden became even more majestic, and the blazing midsummer sun scorched Clarissa’s skin.

In the end, she stopped her hurried steps and settled beneath an especially large, towering tree.

But even the shade cast by its branches wasn’t enough to offer her proper rest.

Just as she was wondering whether she would have to give up on today’s goal—

Rustle.
The sound of leaves whispering reached her ears from somewhere nearby.

She looked around, but there was no one there. A chill crept down her spine for no reason.

A squirrel? A rabbit?

Feeling uneasy, she cautiously stood up.

As she gathered the crumpled hem of her dress and brushed off the dirt, preparing to move again—

Something black dropped straight down from the sky.

Right above Clarissa.

Thud!

A loud impact exploded before her eyes, stars bursting in her vision.

“Ow!”

“Ugh!”

Clarissa was shoved backward like she’d been hit by a massive boulder, landing hard on her backside.

As she screamed and collapsed to the ground, a heavy weight pressed down on her.

“What the—!”

Enduring the pain, she finally managed to open her eyes, only to see a few green leaves and a head of black hair.

For a split second, Clarissa lost her composure and almost let a curse slip out of habit—

You blind—

—but she stopped herself just in time.

Because filling her vision was a strikingly handsome face and a pair of blazing red eyes.

“Honestly… what was I thinking?”

The boy who had flattened Clarissa possessed a beauty so otherworldly that one might mistake him for an angel.

If not for his thick brows and the crooked curve of his red lips, Clarissa would have truly believed she was dreaming.

Yet, as if to prove this wasn’t a dream, he lifted his sharp nose slightly—then frowned.

After realizing Clarissa was beneath him, the boy quickly pushed himself up.

A few leaves drifted down toward her in a gentle flutter.

Clarissa stared at the scene with her mouth slightly open.

It wasn’t because he was breathtakingly beautiful.

Nor was it because she had fallen for him at first sight.

Though she had clearly never seen him before, and though he looked like someone she could never forget, Clarissa knew exactly who he was.

That’s the Crown Prince, right? The original story’s secondary male lead—and Aryan’s irreplaceable supporter.

Her head spun.

This was the imperial palace—Clarissa knew that better than anyone. Of course the Crown Prince being here was only natural.

And yet, meeting him like this delivered a shock so intense and disorienting that she could hardly process it.

I mean, who would expect the Crown Prince to just fall out of the sky?

While Clarissa stood frozen, trying to gather her thoughts, the boy—now fully clear of her—snorted softly and issued a warning.

“I don’t know where you crawled in from… but don’t get in my way.”

“What?”

You’re the one who dropped right in front of someone who was minding their own business, aren’t you?

Before Clarissa could hide her bewilderment, the boy spoke again.

“This is the imperial palace. If you don’t want to lose your head, get lost.”