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“That— no, father.
Sir Akkard is just a friend,”

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Damia hurriedly denied.
Owen, who was staring at Damia, asked again, not believing her:

“Really?”

Damia smiled quietly.

Akkard’s magical charm didn’t seem to work on her parents’ generation.

Owen’s tone considered Akkard was nothing more than “a fly flirting with my pretty daughter.”

“Don’t worry, father.
Lord Akkard is…….
just friendly to all the ladies.
It’s not something important or anything like that.”

As this was true Damia didn’t have a shred of guilt.
Owen let out a  sigh of relief.

“I see.
I guess I was worried for nothing.”

Damia laughed to reassure her father.

Still, deep down inside a cool anger towards Cesare simmered.

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Owen was ignorant about high society news because he was so often away from home.
He probably knew about Akkard because Cesare whispered about it next to him.

“Oh, by the way, I almost forgot.
I have something to deliver to you.”

Owen, who hit his forehead, took a letter out of his arms and handed it over.

Since it is an envelope engraved with the pattern of the High Temple, Damia received it with a puzzled look.

“What is this?”

“Kael asked me to give it to him.
I heard that he became a paladin? I was surprised when I bumped into him in the High Temple.”

“·······Ah.”

Kael Roysten.

Damia looked down at the letter in her hand as if it were poison.

As if she touched the thorny splinter under her fingernail that she had forgotten, the pungent pain spread.

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She wondered when it would be okay to hear his name.

Her remaining fragments of her unrequited love was not an emotion that she would show in front of her father.
So Damia hurriedly folded the letter and covered her feelings.

“Thank you.
I’ll read it later.”

Owen looked at his daughter smiling brightly at him.
Her red rose-like hair and beautiful features that did not suit the barren north.

The smile on her thick lips reminded him of her dead wife.

“You’ve grown up so well.
Even under an ugly father like me, you grew up so pretty and nice.”

Owen muttered with a sad look on his face, forgetting himself.

Damia quickly comforted him with an encouraging tone:

“Don’t say that.
Thanks to my father’s presence, I’ve always felt comfortable and safe.”

Owen smiled a little, but his expression itself didn’t get any brighter.
So Damia decided to quickly change the subject of the conversation.

“More than that, my father.” How long will you stay home this time?”

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“I won’t be able to stay very long.
Why?”

“If you don’t mind…… I’d like to take a succession class soon.
I’d like to help you with my father’s business in earnest.”

Damia spoke in a soft tone.

She was nervous because Cesare kept attacking her but she was sincere in her desire to help out her father.

Her father’s face, which she saw briefly between months-long absentances, looked older and more tired every time he returned.

Even though it was summer in the north his cravat and buttons were completely closed up to his neck and looked particularly suffocating.

For this reason, whenever Owen bowed his head, more wrinkles were caught under his chin than necessary.

Damia felt heartbroken about that.
Nothing hurt more than seeing the rapid aging of her beloved parent.
Therefore, she wanted to take over her father’s business properly as soon as possible.

‘I want to lessen my father’s burden.’

In addition, if she participated in the business in earnest, she would find out more about the High Temple.

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It’s been a while since Damia became an adult anyway.
There was nothing wrong with taking succession education courses.
Rather, it felt a little late compared to other families.

Ordinary parents would be very happy to accept their children’s growth.
However, upon listening to Damia’s words Owen’s complexion darkened.

“Thank you so much for saying that.
However, Damia···I may not have the right to say this, but this father wants you to always live a comfortable care-free life.
I’m being serious about this.” [t1v: NOooooooo]

Owen’s lips seemed to become heavier.
Damia looked at him with a strange look.
The sight of her father frowning and taking a deep breath was as if he was gathering courage to bring up a difficult thing.

“I’ve been watching over Cesare these past few years, and although he is my adopted son….he’s quite smart and sincere.
If he was my biological son, I would have made Cesare my successor.
[t1v: Nooooox2]

“Father······? What are you saying?”

“Of course, it is not impossible.
Because he is the official son of the Primula family, who officially entered the country.
I’m no saint, but I’m not narrow-minded enough to be prejudiced against a promising stepson.” [t1v: ughhh..
i’m ded.]

Owen continued to speak as if he had memorized a prayer with a hazy look.

As if they were words that he had prepared long before he came home.

“So Damia……I’m sorry to ask······, but do you have any thoughts of getting married?” [t1v: ded x2]

“What?”