Volume 4, Chapter 67 – Regret, Hope, and a Line That Cannot Be Crossed

Yelido Alexia Florenst, the man known as the Elf King who controlled half the northern continent, opened his eyes.

The sky was a gloomy gray; the sun had not yet peeked over the horizon. The fragrance of dawn dew mixed with the fresh morning air and drifted into his nostrils. The cold wind of late autumn was invigorating. He sat up from his canopied bed, his eyes, full of a king’s authority, staring blankly out the window at the city.

Yelido was not like the Eldest Princess, who was waited upon by maids to rise. Firstly, he was independent and decisive, disliking the dallying parts of noble etiquette. Secondly, it was for Veronica’s sake. “Accidents” were always prone to happening between nobles and maids. As a former prince, he knew all too well how calculating those maids could be. Therefore, all his daily needs were handled only by male servants, and they had to be the sons of nobles from a military background. This way, many troubles could be avoided.

In the past, he would have already been at the mirror, getting dressed. But today, he did not. He just sat on the edge of the bed with his legs apart, his gaze subconsciously shifting to his half-open right hand.

It was with this hand that he had hit Fia.

It was true that she had hit him yesterday, but with his quasi-Eighth Rank strength, he could easily heal such injuries. What pained him more than the physical hurt was the torment from his own heart. He had tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. He had once considered himself the person who loved his daughter most in this world, yet in their first meeting after she had lost her memory, he had become the perpetrator.

In the nearly one hundred years of the past, he had never hit Dofi. It was for this reason that yesterday’s act was so unsettling, especially her final words about possibly leaving the Royal Castle. That was the first time he, Yelido, had ever felt that there was something in this world that could make him so afraid.

He didn’t want to dwell on who was right or wrong in this matter. He just wanted to know what his daughter was thinking now. Was she determined to leave, or had she given him a chance to keep her? Yelido did not resent those two punches. To be precise, because of certain things, he felt that those two punches to his face were the retribution he deserved. Other emotions had diluted his anger.

Fia had lost her memory, unable to remember the past, but it was a blessing in disguise. She had become like a true elf. Yesterday was the first time he had heard her call him “Father.” At that time, his mind was preoccupied with her being injured by the Holy Kingdom, and he hadn’t noticed. But when he had calmed down last night, he couldn’t help but feel what a joyful change this was.

It was like the first time he had heard her cry. His whole body had been filled with an indescribable ecstasy and excitement, as if every cell was cheering for him. He had become a father. From now on, the world will be filled with color.

If losing her memory had made his always emotionless, doll-like daughter become like a real elf, a real daughter, then this loss was not so bad. What was lost could be started anew, as long as Fia was willing to call him “Father.”

At this thought, his heart began to tremble. He didn’t know where to put his hands. Because of a faint excitement, he stood up and paced aimlessly in the room. Although he himself was unaware, the fact was, he was now just like he had been when he was waiting for Veronica to give birth—both nervous and full of anticipation.

The Fia of the past was indeed very good. She was intelligent, calm, and impossible to read, born with the disposition of an emperor. She was satisfactory in every aspect. Sometimes, he even felt that if he were to hand the kingdom over to her on the spot, she would only need a few days to take over perfectly. But such a Fia was always lacking something.

At first, he had thought that he had inadvertently made his daughter unhappy, which was why she ignored him. But when he asked what he had done wrong, she would always answer “nothing.”

Over time, he had grown accustomed to her taciturn nature. Habit is a terrifying thing. Once he had accepted the reality that his daughter would not call him “Father,” then everything could go on as usual, as if it were no big deal. However, when he was lying in bed last night, recalling her “Father,” and her angry, confrontational expression, he had suddenly realized that this was a normal father-daughter relationship—troublesome, yet also colorful.

In comparison, the two punches he had received were what he deserved. On the day she was born, he had sworn never to let her be hurt. Now that he had become the perpetrator, what face did he have to say he was the person who doted on Dofi the most in this world? For her to want to leave him now was simply heaven’s punishment!

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That being said, Yelido also understood that to apologize to Fia and to keep her, there were many, many problems.

He was not a father who would give in on everything. On some matters of principle, he would not allow her to act recklessly. For example, the past of Anastasia and Clark. He did want to keep her, but he would not forgive Anastasia for it.

What he had told her, that Clark had stolen Veronica from his side, was not nonsense. From a long time ago, before Clark had even met her, he and Veronica had had a relationship that surpassed that of siblings. It was just that at that time, he had not yet ascended the throne, and the feelings between them were just mutual admiration, not a confirmed, ambiguous love.

Of course, if things had developed normally, he and Veronica would absolutely have been a loving couple.

—Until that human named Clark appeared.

That despicable, opportunistic villain.

He could do anything for Veronica, promise her everything in this world. But that human man could do nothing. He had neither the courage to fight him for her, nor the material conditions to make her happy. Just sweet words…

To be with such a person was just to add a stain to her. And that elf named Anastasia was the proof of Veronica’s foolishness, and also the humiliation that despicable person had left for the elf royal family.

“Your Majesty, are you awake?”

A servant’s inquiry suddenly came from outside the door. Yelido stopped his pacing and said in a low tone.

“What is it.”

“You instructed me last night to wake you before the sun came out,” the male servant seemed to be choosing his words. After a moment of hesitation, he continued. “Her Highness the Eldest Princess has not come out of her palace.”

“…I’ll be out shortly. You are dismissed.”

“Yes.”

He would put that opportunist aside for now. They were not worth even a single hair of Dofi’s.

Taking a deep breath, the golden-haired Yelido put the past behind him and swiftly got dressed.

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Taking advantage of the time before the sun had risen, when the sky was still dark, Yelido, cloaked in a blue robe, avoided the guards’ sight and quietly came to the front of Fia’s palace. In order not to attract attention, he had deliberately not told the servants where he was going, and had even used the Holy Tree to activate weather-changing magic, quietly covering the sky of Blossom with dark clouds so that the sky would brighten more slowly.

Although the Royal Castle was the residence of the royal family, Yelido, like a sneaky thief, lowered the brim of his hood and came to the door of her palace.

Due to the turmoil of the coup a few days ago, the maids on guard at the entrance almost screamed, mistaking him for a remnant of the rebellion. Fortunately, he lifted his hood, revealing the sharp, dignified face underneath.

“Eh? Y-Your Majesty? You…”

“Quiet. This is none of your business.”

“Understood…”

Although she didn’t know what he was doing, he was the king, and this maid had no right to refuse him. She hurriedly lowered her head to make way for him. However, he took the initiative to stop her.

“Is Dofi up yet?”

“Well… I don’t know. But Her Highness has been getting up at seven-thirty recently. I think it will be a while… Does Your Majesty want to wake her?”

“No need,” he held a palm up towards the maid. “Take me inside. I will wait for her to get up.”

“Yes.”

Without any further explanation, he followed the maid directly into the palace. In the eyes of outsiders, he had always had an unsmiling and taciturn image, so not explaining his arrival was in line with his impression in their eyes.

And then, just like an ordinary guest, he sat on the sofa in the receiving room. However, the main door was wide open, so every maid who passed by could see him sitting at the table, his brow furrowed as if he were thinking about something. If not for their usual training, one would have been able to hear their terrified screams all morning. Just the sight of the king sitting silently in an unlit room was enough to jolt their drowsy minds awake.

Before long, he gradually discovered that there were some interesting things in Fia’s palace.

First was Liti, who had been startled by him and then had timidly come over to greet him.

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If he remembered correctly, Liti was the Third Consort’s daughter, and had even angered Fia before. Why was she here in her palace so early in the morning, and looking as if she had just woken up? Although it was her sister’s palace, to walk around in only her nightgown was too casual, improper.

So he thought, but he did not reprimand her. After learning that it was Fia who had allowed her to live in the palace, and not that she was a cuckoo in the nest, he let her go back. His heart was filled with tension now; he didn’t want to waste his energy on her.

And after Liti, he also discovered a little girl with her white hair tied in a side ponytail. This girl was a Stellacryst Beast, and had a pair of frightening, bewitching red eyes. Although she was wearing a maid’s uniform, the Royal Castle would never recruit non-elf maids. He guessed that she must have been a child Fia had met on the road and brought back. Fia had always been like this, unable to bear seeing someone starve to death by the roadside. Both Anastasia and Erin Slate were like that.

Because Milu had a pair of eyes the same color as the royal family’s, and was also a girl younger than Fia whom she had brought back, Yelido couldn’t help but feel a little affectionate. He thought that she should come forward and greet him, the Elf King. He was even a little flustered because he hadn’t prepared a gift for this child beforehand. But the result was that Milu just tilted her head curiously to look at him and then walked straight away, which left him at a loss.

A child with personality. She probably doesn’t know who I am.

So he thought.

A little later, he finally saw the person who had caused all this conflict. It was because of her that he had broken his vow.

Seeing Yelido’s unfriendly gaze, Anastasia, who was a little lazy from just waking up, instantly tensed. She first stood rooted to the spot, then her expression stiffened as she bowed at the door.

“…Your Majesty.”

“Hmph,” he snorted coldly. “Come in.”

He actually had no particular words to say to her. After she had entered, he had also ignored her, just letting her stand at the door. A moment later, he heard the voice that he had been waiting for and that had been tormenting him.

“Who are you talking to, Anastasia?”

Almost instantly, the person who was tense and whose muscles were taut was no longer Anastasia, but him. He shot up from the sofa, his hands rubbing against the seams of his trousers, his expression filled with awkwardness and helplessness. However, he then remembered that he was the king, a father, and should not be so flustered. So he suppressed the urgency in his heart and pretended to be calm as he sat back down.

Until, with the sound of tapping footsteps, Fia, in a black formal dress, appeared at the door.

Father and daughter’s eyes met. Yelido’s expression was calm, while a flash of astonishment passed through Fia’s. After a moment of stalemate, the peace was abruptly broken by the appearance of a fourth person.

A silver-haired young woman, who looked a few years older than Fia and was well-developed, appeared at the doorframe. She did not have pointed ears, which meant she was human. Although at first glance she was as holy as a moon goddess descended to the mortal world, he could not feel any goodwill towards her. Because of Clark, he was filled with contempt for humans. To make matters worse, from the way this silver-haired young woman looked at Fia, he was reminded of something disgusting, nauseating, and even hateful.

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That gaze was exactly the same as the one Clark used to look at Veronica with.

“…Yelido.”

Before he could reminisce, Fia’s statement brought him back to reality. He noticed the change in her wording. A hint of bitterness appeared on his sharp face. He withdrew his gaze and, as if he were struggling with something, bent his body forward slightly, his hands clasped tightly together, without a trace of a king’s authority.

“Dofi, close the door. I have something to say to you.”

“…”

Fia did not refute him.

After last night, she also had many things she wanted to say. She had originally planned to go and find him after daybreak. Now that he had come here silently, although it was sudden, it saved her the trouble.

Except that she was not mentally prepared.

Who knew what he had come for? At this point, she could only take it one step at a time… she hoped he hadn’t noticed Claire.

With this thought, Fia first walked into the room, looked at Anastasia, who was standing by the door with her head lowered, her golden bangs covering her face, and then turned to close the door.

However, Claire, before she could close it, quietly slipped in through the crack and stood with Anastasia. Although Fia wanted to say something, the room was terrifyingly quiet now. Anything she said would be heard by him. So, under Claire’s shushing gesture, she closed the door with an apprehensive heart and then walked over to sit opposite him.

The sun had not yet risen, and the room was not lit. The receiving room was only filled with the dim light of dawn. The dead silence was like an unpleasant, dark slime, flowing with difficulty in the room.

Out of nervousness, Yelido’s clasped hands were unconsciously rubbing against each other. He looked up at Fia’s face, but because the light was too dim, he could only see the half of her profile that was facing the window—it was not an expression that would make one happy.

This was the consequence of his slap yesterday.

A bitter taste rose in Yelido’s throat. After a long pause, he finally spoke, stammering. He did not dare to look at her directly, but lowered his head, his posture one of begging for forgiveness.

“…I’m sorry, Dofi.”