Chapter 37
"Quiet," Irybelle instructed the bewildered maids in a calm, authoritative whisper, deftly motioning for them to step out into the hallway. "The Lord Count is merely… processing a profound moment of paternal joy."
Behind them, Damnern remained motionless on his knees in the center of the pastel-pink sanctuary, staring blankly into space as tears cascaded down his cheeks like twin waterfalls.
"Papa!" Eldern yelled, tugging violently at Damnern's embroidered sleeve. "Papa, you're melting! Wake up!"
Damnern snapped back to reality with a sharp, ragged inhale. He rapidly wiped his eyes with the back of his heavy sleeve and stood, his usual terrifying aura completely shattered. Reaching down, he pulled both of his children into a tight, desperate hug, holding them close against his chest.
For a long moment, he simply stood there in silence, a turbulent storm of emotions churning behind his azure eyes.
It seems... I've been entirely wrong all this time, Damnern thought, the realization striking him harder than a physical blow. How can I dare call myself a proper father when I constantly doubt whether my own flesh and blood love me? How can a father be so utterly blind to what his own children truly feel?
His gaze dropped to the two small figures held securely against his ribs. A heavy crease formed between his brows as a sudden, agonizing panic set in.
Perhaps Eldern was disappointed by the gift I gave him too. Maybe he simply didn't show it the way Elyra did.
The mere thought made his throat tighten with a sharp, suffocating ache.
"Papa is so sorry," Damnern murmured, his voice thick with raw emotion as his arms tightened around them. "Papa didn't realize... I never knew you disliked that silver locket so much, Elyra."
Elyra stared up at him, her sapphire eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
What is this man talking about? she thought, her tactical mind short-circuiting. Who said I didn't like it?
Before her stunned brain could formulate a way to correct his bizarre, melodramatic conclusion, Eldern raised his chin and chimed in with absolute confidence.
"Elyra really loves the Fue Music Crystal, Papa," Eldern declared, his tone carrying the supreme, unquestionable authority of a big brother correcting his father on basic facts. "Papa really needs to learn from Eldern!"
Elyra's entire frame instantly went rigid.
Who said I loved that stone so much?! I just liked it a little! she screamed silently into the void of her own mind, her internal stoicism fracturing under the sheer weight of her family's absurd assumptions.
Unfortunately, Eldern's innocent declaration had already landed its fatal blow. Damnern's tear-stained face brightened exponentially, as if he had just been handed the sacred secrets of the universe.
Elyra could only stare at her father in paralyzed, hopeless silence. Why is everyone in this family deciding what I like without ever asking me first...?
"Elyra... my precious angel... my sweetest girl," Damnern sniffled, his voice cracking with intense devotion. "If you ever want a bigger bed—or anything in this world—you only have to ask Papa!"
That's enough, please... Elyra prayed mentally, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
"Dis is more than 'nuff(enough)," Elyra said.
It took several agonizing minutes for the dramatic emotional storm to finally subside. Damnern eventually glanced toward the grand wooden doors, suddenly remembering the staggering pile of official territory documents awaiting his signature in the study.
"Ah, right. Papa still has a massive mountain of paperwork to finish," he murmured regretfully. He gently loosened his grip, bending down to press a warm, lingering kiss onto Elyra's forehead before doing the exact same for Eldern.
Damnern pivoted on his heel to leave, but after taking barely two steps, he abruptly halted and turned back to face her, his eyes brimming with fresh, anxious tears.
"Are... are you truly sure you want to live on your own, Elyra?" he asked, his voice trembling as he desperately sought one final chance to reverse her decision.
"Yes!" Elyra yelled, her baby voice leaving zero room for negotiation.
Damnern winced slightly at her unwavering firmness, but managed a weak, defeated smile. "And don't forget your physical training session this afternoon."
"Yes, Papa!" Eldern shouted enthusiastically.
Giving them both one last deeply affectionate look, Damnern finally turned and strode through the doorway. For the first time since Elyra had rejected his birthday gift, the suffocating tension that had weighed on his broad shoulders felt noticeably lighter. The household attendants immediately fell into line behind him, bowing their heads in deep reverence as the heavy wooden doors swung shut with a quiet, muffled thud.
Silence settled over the grand suite.
The comforting warmth of Damnern's presence slowly faded down the corridor, leaving only the soft rustling of velvet curtains and the distant, muted sounds of the estate grounds outside. Golden afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, spilling across the polished hardwood floors and bathing the newly decorated room in a warm, amber glow. Long shadows stretched lazily across the plush rugs as the hours quietly slipped away.
When afternoon arrived, the training session on the wide grassy field behind the manor proceeded precisely as Damnern had promised.
To Damnern, it was nothing more than a lighthearted bonding exercise—a playful opportunity for his young children to stretch their legs while absorbing the basic fundamentals of balance, physical movement, and footwork.
To Elyra, however, there was nothing remotely casual about it.
Every stance, every shift in weight, and every subtle execution of force were elements her highly trained mind instinctively analyzed and dissected. Yet, no matter how sharp her combat intellect remained, her physical vessel was still that of a fragile toddler. Her mind remembered the terrifying speed, lethal precision, and effortless power of her past life as Ryudien, but her current muscles simply refused to cooperate. Even basic conditioning drills left her limbs feeling like lead weights.
My body is still far too weak... Elyra lamented silently as the lesson drew to a close, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow.
She had always known intellectually that reincarnation had reset her physical vessel, but experiencing the gap between her mind and body firsthand was deeply frustrating. Still, beneath the quiet irritation, a faint sense of satisfaction lingered. For the first time, she was actively training to mold this tiny body into a proper weapon rather than simply enduring its fragile limitations.
I need to get much stronger. And quickly.
Her thoughts drifted back to a conversation from twenty minutes prior, right as the training session ended.
"Alright, that's enough for today!" Damnern had announced, wiping his brow with a cheerful grin.
As the three of them began walking back toward the estate, Damnern's gaze had remained glued to his tiny daughter. His blue eyes had welled up with dramatic tears all over again. "A-Are you absolutely certain you want to sleep in your own room, Elyra?"
How many times is he going to ask me that?! Elyra had screamed internally.
"Yes! It's not like I'm moving out of the house!" she had snapped back in annoyance, her baby cheeks puffing out.
"Can Eldern come play and sleep in your room tonight then?" Eldern had chimed in eagerly, looking up at his father with a competitive spark in his green eyes.
"P-Papa wants to join too!" Damnern had immediately declared, refusing to be left out.
"No!" Elyra had rejected them instantly, without a millisecond of hesitation.
I'm sorry, Eldern, but I have private business to conduct tonight, she had added in her thoughts.
Upon her brutal rejection, both father and son had dropped their heads in unison, slouching forward and dragging their feet like defeated, lifeless spirits all the way back to the manor doors.
A rare, faint smile tugged at the corner of Elyra's lips as the amusing memory crossed her mind.
"Is the Young Lady finished with her bath?" Irybelle's soft, polite voice broke through her reverie.
"Yes," Elyra replied smoothly, stepping out of the steaming water wrapped in a plush towel.
"Please sit here, Young Lady. I shall help dry your hair," Irybelle said, gesturing gracefully toward a cushioned vanity stool.
Elyra walked over without a word and climbed onto the seat. As the maid began gently towel-drying and brushing her long, blonde hair, Irybelle looked at her reflection in the mirror, offering a gentle, warm smile.
"Do you love your family, Young Lady?" Irybelle asked softly, seeking to build a comfortable rapport with her new master.
The question caught Elyra entirely off guard. It sounded so foreign—so entirely detached from anything she had ever known. In her previous life as Ryudien, concepts like familial love, unconditional warmth, and gentle care simply did not exist. Yet here, both Elina and Eldern showered her with a fierce, genuine affection she had done nothing to earn.
" I... I wuv 'em vewy much," Elyra mumbled in a soft, quiet voice, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as her tsundere nature struggled against the honest admission.
Irybelle's dark eyes softened at the adorable sight of the young girl blushing in the mirror. "Is that so?" she murmured fondly, gently running the fine-toothed comb through Elyra's hair. "And what about the Lord Count?"
To be continued...