IWMHWD 61

Chapter 61 – The Father’s Daughter
December 31, 2023

Anton dismissed the physician and sat alone in the parlor chair, trying to steady his breathing.

“Haa…”

Who knows how much time passed.

He trudged again toward his daughter’s room. The nanny, who had been massaging Rosaline’s arms and legs, stood up abruptly upon seeing Anton enter.

“You’re here, Master.”

“How’s Rosaline?”

“She’s about the same as this morning.”

That meant she wasn’t doing well. Anton dismissed the nanny and sat in the chair she had been using. He began to massage his daughter’s arm, something he’d grown used to doing. Her arm was so thin, it felt like a winter twig.

“…Father?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“I’m thirsty.”

He poured some water into a cup from the nightstand and handed it to her. Rosaline could barely take a few sips before giving it back.

Anton stared down at the cup for a long while. There was blood mixed in the water.

Three months.

The doctor’s parting words echoed in his ears.

“…When Maximilian is released from prison, what would you like to do?”

“I want to go to Ansen with him and have our wedding. In a garden full of blooming roses, my favorite. And raise a child together… Oh! Father, I’ve even thought of a few names for the baby—”

A faint flush of color returned to Rosaline’s cheeks. Like a bird singing at sunrise, she began chirping excitedly about all the things she wanted to do with Maximilian. Anton memorized her every word, every expression.

My daughter.
My treasure.
My sea.
My sunlight.
My everything.

“Do that.”

“Ansen is so hot though, right?”

“Do it however you wish.”

“Oh, Father!”

Rosaline suddenly sat upright, her amber eyes sparkling with excitement. She grabbed Anton’s arm and shook it.

“You mean—you’ll save Maximilian? You’ll get him out of prison?”

“Yes. I will. So, even if you don’t want to, eat properly. And take your medicine on time.”

“Of course! I’m suddenly really hungry. I want to eat!”

“You couldn’t even drink water just now. Don’t overdo it.”

“I feel like I could eat a whole ox right now!”

Anton only smiled at her enthusiasm. She even summoned the servants to bring food, eager to prove her point.

Though all she managed was a bowl of thin soup, Anton was satisfied. At that moment, a servant quietly approached him and whispered.

“The Elector Vasquez has arrived. Shall I bring him in?”

“Vasquez? Yes, bring him in.”

Anton moved to the parlor.

Not long after, an elderly man limped in, dressed in gaudy clothes.

“Oh, Elector Emblie! It’s been a while.”

“Elector Vasquez. You’ve come a long way. Sit down.”

Anton gestured to the seat opposite. Pablo Vasquez, his eyes gleaming with greed, glanced around Emblie’s parlor before sitting with exaggerated flair.

“So, I hear you wanted to see me. What’s this about?”

Even his tone was dripping with arrogance.

“Haha. Always so impatient. Straight to the point, huh?”

“No need to waste time.”

“That’s fine by me. But—what happened to your leg?”

“This?”

Pablo suppressed a rising fury as he looked at his right leg, pretending it was nothing.

“It’s nothing. Got a little hurt while hunting.”

“You hunt in spring, Vasquez?”

“Eh…”

He dodged the question. Anton found it odd but didn’t press. It wasn’t important.

“Let’s not dance around. You heard Atilay is planning to open a trial?”

“Yes. He’s putting my younger brother on trial, isn’t he?”

“Exactly. What I want—is to stop that trial from happening.”

“What’s that got to do with you, Elector Emblie?”

“Atilay wants to put Emblie on the witness stand. That’s unacceptable to me.”

“Oh ho. So, Emblie had a hand in Atilay’s title inheritance?”

A glint appeared in Pablo’s eyes, too blatant in its scheming. Anton found it disgusting but didn’t show it.

“A hand? Haha, nonsense. Emblie had nothing to do with it. Atilay just wants someone to blame. When news spread that he had died, I supported Maximilian’s claim to the title. That’s all.”

“Other families did the same, didn’t they?”

“Some opposed the funeral without a body at first. My only crime was believing the second son’s words.”

“Hmph. Well, I get the gist. So if I help you—what’s in it for me?”

“You’re not even asking what the favor is?”

“Whether I act or not depends on what I get in return.”

“Truly…”

“Truly what?”

Anton swallowed the word “materialistic” and instead smiled politely.

“Straightforward. I like that.”

“Haha. I hear that a lot.”

“I’ll make sure the reward is worth your while. But first, I need to be sure about one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Your daughter—Cordelia Abrams. She’s Atilay’s only disciple, isn’t she?”

“What about her?”

Pablo’s face instantly contorted at the mention of Cordelia.

“What if you help me here, then go behind my back and contact your daughter, siding with Atilay?”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. I don’t speak to that insolent girl.”

“Hmm?”

“She’s a sly, wicked little thing. No respect for her father. Just like her mother.”

Pablo then went on a long tirade insulting his daughter. The hatred he spewed was so intense, it felt more like animosity between enemies than a father-daughter relationship.

Anton couldn’t understand his mindset. Aren’t children supposed to be precious?

And yet, that daughter was the prized disciple of the esteemed mage Atilay. Her carrying Atilay during the Saracen banquet had already become the talk of high society.

“She’s nothing like my son. Dennis is my spitting image. Now he’s something.”

“Oh, you had a son too?”

“Yes. Dennis Vasquez. The one who’ll lead House Vasquez after me. He’s quite skilled with a sword, and I brought him to the capital with me.”

Unlike earlier, Pablo’s eyes were filled with pride now.

Anton found it strange. No matter how skilled Dennis was, he couldn’t compare to Cordelia, Atilay’s disciple. And yet Pablo favored his son more.

If they took the son hostage to pressure the daughter… that might produce some interesting results.

Originally, he had summoned Vasquez merely as one way to pressure the king—but perhaps Vasquez would prove more useful than expected.

“You say your son is good with a sword? That’s perfect. The Silver Stag Knights are in need of talents like him. I’ll put in a word with His Majesty.”

“Truly? If you do that, there’s nothing I wouldn’t help you with.”

Pablo’s eyes lit up with excitement. Joining the prestigious Silver Stag Knights would open a bright future for his son.

“Focus, will you?”

“I am.”

Leonard yawned right in front of the king. He casually picked up an ivory chess piece and finished the game without a second thought.

After losing three games in a row, Gabriel’s face twisted with irritation.

“Do you even know the meaning of loyalty?”

“Since when did Your Majesty expect such sentimental nonsense from me?”

“Hah. So shameless.”

“And really, what does loyalty have to do with chess? If you keep losing despite playing this often, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“Fine, whatever. Even in death, you’re still insufferable.”

“Brutal honesty is my loyalty.”

Leonard’s calm tone made the king shudder in annoyance.

Gabriel leaned back and waved his hand. The attendant behind him quickly cleared the chessboard and pieces.

“Emblie came to the palace recently with Hillurst.”

“The two of them? For what?”

“They pulled out some dusty old law book, insisting that trials have formal procedures that must be followed. They’re saying it’s illegal to keep Maximilian in prison without proper process, and he should be moved to the Tower. Quite the headache.”

“Since when did they care about such things?”

“They haven’t suddenly become scholars. Their goal’s obvious—they want to delay or stop the trial.”

“Then why even listen to them if you know it’s a ploy?”

“One voice I can ignore. Two, I have to pretend to listen. If three support it, I have to actually listen. You know the rules.”

In Ersche, eight electors choose the king by vote. Even a reigning king doesn’t wield absolute power.

If three or more electors join forces, they can even depose the king. Theoretically, at least. So Gabriel couldn’t completely ignore Emblie.

“There’s still one vacant seat left, though…”

“Elector Vasquez has been visiting Emblie’s townhouse. It seems he’ll fill that vacant seat.”

“You knew?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Leonard smirked. He crossed his legs in the opposite direction and continued.

“In any case, Hillurst and Emblie are just a temporary alliance. And Vasquez—his ties to them are as flimsy as a thread.”