I bit into an orange slice. Sour fruit juice spread throughout my mouth, revitalizing me.
“Delicious,” I said.
“I’m glad. Can you eat a little more? Let me know what other fruit you’d like, and I’ll peel it for you.” Sir Leonhart’s hands didn’t stop moving while he spoke. He cut another orange into easy-to-eat slices. His knife work was so deft that it was hard to believe he considered himself bad at cooking.
He used to struggle because even though swords and kitchen knives are both blades, they’re handled way differently, but he’s allegedly been using his free time to learn tips and techniques from the head chef.
“Thank you. I’d like another orange,” I said.
“With pleasure.” There was a note of pride in his happy smile, and it made my heart flutter.
He seems like the total package who can do anything, but he actually works very hard behind the scenes. God, my husband is so my type in every respect that it hurts. I enjoyed succulent fruits as I listened to the distant orchestra music. The song had changed from a fast-paced beat to a slow melody. Chris and Johan were surrounded by a flock of young ladies. They must still be dancing in the center of the great hall.
“Is it okay to make myself at home like this?” I felt a little guilty for leaving the soiree at its height and leisurely relaxing in the lounge. Although I’d achieved my goal of advertising the accessories, I couldn’t say the results were adequate just yet. Plus, my socializing had been quite half-baked.
However, Sir Leonhart just smiled, as though he’d seen through my uneasiness. “It’s fine. Merely attending tonight was sufficient.”
“Yes, you’re right.” I feel rushed to achieve success, but overexerting myself is forbidden. When I decided to attend this event, I promised that I’d put my health first. Just as I finished my thought and began to relax, someone knocked on the door.
Sir Leonhart and I exchanged puzzled glances.
Is it another guest? The only people who’d follow us uninvited to the lounge are those who are relatively close to us. Coming here is a much higher hurdle than striking up a conversation with us in the hall. It could only be family and relatives. Still, tonight’s soiree is being hosted by the royal family. It’d be difficult for my parents and brothers to leave the venue.
“Is it my father-in-law and mother-in-law, perhaps?” The faces of Sir Leonhart’s parents, the marquis and marchioness of the Orsein family, came to mind.
My kindhearted in-laws dote on me as though I were their own child. They became more overprotective when they learned of my pregnancy, so they might have come to check up on us out of worry. I was about to stand and get the door, but Sir Leonhart stopped me.
“I’ll answer it.” When he reached the door, he conversed with whoever it was on the other side for some time. However, I was too far away to hear the unknown visitor’s voice.
“Leon? If it’s father-in-law and mother-in-law, then please let them in.” I stood up from the sofa and turned around right as the door swung open.
“Yeah. I’ll let myself in.”
It was a different voice than I’d expected, and my eyes grew wide as saucers. “Huh?”
Though it was dignified and commanding, it was different from my father-in-law’s gentle and serene tone. I’ve heard this haughty voice before. He was a blindingly beautiful young man—or, he wore the guise of one, at least. In actuality, an old man in his forties brazenly stepped through the doorway into the room.
“Oh, it’s not father,” I said with a sigh.
He shot me an offended look. Even with an eyebrow raised, his radiantly beautiful visage remained unmarred. “I’m also your father, though.”
Uh, yeah, except... I’ve never called you father, but we’ll set that aside. “Yes, that’s true. By the way, why are you here?” I gave him an empty smile, but he didn’t seem to care.
I hadn’t offered him a seat, but my father sat down on the sofa across from me without hesitation. I glowered at him suspiciously, and he stared back at me. Though I had nothing to hide, his piercing gaze made me extremely uncomfortable.
“Do I need a reason to see my daughter?” he asked.
My jaw dropped, and a silly “Huh?” slipped out of me. I couldn’t immediately process his words.
A father doesn’t need a reason to visit his daughter. Generally speaking, that would be a true statement. But that doesn’t apply to our parent-child relationship. Sure, I’ve become able to hold normal conversations with him as of late, but we still don’t have such a friendly rapport. All things said, when he boldly asserts such, it’s hard to rebut.
I inadvertently glanced at Sir Leonhart for backup. He returned to my side, forced a dry smile, and urged me to sit down as well. Though I wasn’t happy about it, I took my seat.
“You don’t need a reason...but is it all right for the event’s organizer to leave the hall?” I asked quietly, awkwardly averting my gaze. I wasn’t used to having a normal conversation with my father, so I ended up saying something not very cute.
“Three members of the royal family will suffice. My sons also merrily sent me off.”
For some reason, it sounded like there was some hidden meaning behind his words. “Is that so?”
The doubt must’ve shown on my face, because the corners of my father’s lips quirked up. He waved his right hand lightly. “They both wholeheartedly agreed.”
Unable to take it at face value, I decided it must’ve been a metaphor for something. I tilted my head to the side. However, no matter how hard I analyzed his statement, I couldn’t think of any other way to interpret it besides its literal meaning.
I guess, as he says, Chris and Johan happily sent him off. When I thought about it that way, I felt very conflicted. My relationship with my father wasn’t the estranged, colder-than-strangers association that it’d been in the past, but I still couldn’t bring myself to be honest with him—I felt almost like a teen in their rebellious phase. And here I thought that the ever-calm and wise Chris and the quick-witted and affable Johan also treated our father with a similar attitude.
I didn’t want to believe that I was the only one who acted childishly toward him, so I doggedly asked again. “Really?”
My father wasn’t angered by this—his eyes narrowed cheerfully. “Yes. After all, according to Christoph, there is the ‘seniority rule.’”
“Chris said that?” He truly is such an upstanding person. If it were me, I’d say, “Who cares about seniority?” and push father aside. Oh, how shameful. I’m going to be a parent next year, so I need to grow up a little.
I began reflecting upon myself internally. Interacting with my father still isn’t my favorite thing ever, but I don’t hate it. I don’t want to show my child a strained relationship with my parents. I should slowly work up to meeting him halfway.
Right as I made up my mind, my eyes locked with my father’s. I was used to squaring off against him in situations where defeat was not an option, so I reflexively wanted to glare, but I suppressed the urge and smiled instead.