Chapter 128
However, as he lacked the ability to read minds, Einar obediently pressed both hands to his chest to signal surrender and moved half a step further away from her.
But for a father who had just witnessed his precious daughter—whom he wouldn’t hurt even if he put her in his eye—being threatened by a worthless scoundrel who wouldn’t even make a mouthful, and then watching her communicate with another man through mere glances, even that retreat wasn’t enough.
Einar let out a dry laugh as the Duke’s killing intent, which seemed about to pierce his cheek, didn’t diminish despite his retreat, but he didn’t back away further.
He too thought he had already conceded more than enough.
Hadn’t the opportunity to reach Riina finally arrived?
While desperately hoping that wasn’t an illusion, he wanted to be as close to her as possible.
“Duke, haven’t I already yielded?”
“Since you’ve done it once, the second time should be easier.”
As sparks flew between the two men, Sierre looked at them alternately with an intrigued expression, while Riina covered her reddened face with both hands and kept swallowing sighs.
Meanwhile, Smith, who had been threatening Riina and Sierre, had long since slipped away silently, completely crushed by the pressure from Einar and the Duke.
But even afterward, the exchange continued for some time, with the Duke of Bolshevik glaring at Einar, and Einar skillfully withstanding the Duke’s gaze.
After the unexpected encounter at the Youngest Prince’s palace ended with Sierre’s single comment about being tired, Riina returned to the Bolshevik estate and faced her father.
The father and daughter, who had been described by Sierre as “looking alike,” indeed maintained the same expressionless faces and the same caliber of silence.
Sebastian placed steaming cups of tea suited to each of their tastes, bowed, and disappeared, but even long after that…
Around the time their untouched teacups were growing cold—the two in perfect harmony having not taken even a sip—the Duke’s voice spread through the strangely uncomfortable but not awkward silence.
“His Majesty commended the comprehensiveness, accuracy, and timeliness of the materials.”
At his dry words, which treated the Emperor’s praise as casually as if a neighbor had complimented some bread, Riina simply nodded once.
“Will they dispatch an investigation team regarding the possibility that it’s not an epidemic? After all, if it were a real epidemic, even though they controlled the first patients and their surroundings, it would have spread. We haven’t heard any such reports.”
The corner of the Duke’s mouth rose ever so subtly at his daughter’s astuteness in pinpointing the core issue.
Of course, Riina didn’t notice this.
“Yes. Including not only whether it’s an epidemic but also uncovering the group behind this situation. His Majesty wishes to designate the Second Prince for this task.”
The result was natural, if anything.
If Einar hadn’t noticed this matter, border skirmishes or even battles would have broken out, just as they had before her regression.
Even before her regression, although it hadn’t led to war, the empire’s borders had been noisy for quite some time, and the empire’s prestige had been damaged even after the borders quieted down.
Additionally, she herself had worked so diligently on useless tasks for Smith at that border.
Having easily dispersed the future that had already passed—no, that would not come—Riina answered:
“He’ll handle it well.”
Yes. What couldn’t Einar accomplish if he set his mind to it?
Even if he didn’t particularly want to do well, things would naturally progress smoothly and yield the best results.
At her voice filled with excessive confidence and her expression clearly showing her trust in him, the Duke’s eyebrows twitched.
But since he too knew that if the Second Prince took on this task, he would handle it properly, he didn’t bother to say anything contradictory.
However, whatever minimal goodwill he had toward Einar in his heart burrowed through the basement and sank even lower.
He promptly changed the subject.
“So, you requested documents this time.”
Though he didn’t specify which documents, Riina easily followed the conversation and nodded.
“Yes. There were some aspects I needed to confirm.”
As the word “SUCCESS” that had been clearly stamped across all the documents she had checked came to mind, spring sunlight briefly touched Riina’s face.
Seeing her lips, where an indelible satisfaction lingered, the Duke gazed at her for a long time before leaning deeply back in his chair and opening his mouth.
“What did you want to confirm?”
To this, Riina couldn’t provide an immediate answer.
Fidgeting unnecessarily with the teacup she hadn’t taken even a sip from, Riina eventually moistened her dry lips slightly, took a deep breath, and said:
“I wanted to see the results of those projects.”
The moment her answer fell, an indescribable expression appeared on the Duke’s face, half-hidden by shadows from the nose up.
He had been waiting for that answer since he posed the question.
It was joy, it was sorrow, it was longing for what had been lost and hope that it might not be lost.
Success. His daughter had finally properly confirmed the success of her work.
Now, finally, you’ve come to know.
That you haven’t failed.
That your dedication to the family has returned with complete results, never fading.
His daughter, reflected in his inappropriately reddened eyes, overlapped with the image of her as a very young child folding paper from documents.
Although she had already grown up and her eye level had risen considerably, doesn’t a daughter always look like a baby to her father?
My child, I remember when you were born.
I remember the moment you babbled for your mother, took your first steps, and smiled brightly.
And that day.
I remember the words you repeated, neither crying nor in your right mind, when you returned after losing my wife, your mother.
‘It’s because of me. Because I have bad luck. It’s me, because of me.’
My heart, already torn from losing my wife, was shredded by your self-blame.
But, being inadequate, I couldn’t comfort you.
Even when you were frustrated, saying you only ‘failed,’ and blindly clung to ‘success,’ driving yourself to ruin…
That’s how I lost you.
I, your foolish father, couldn’t even properly bury you in my heart and made a deal instead.
To turn back time and bring you back.
Ah, yes. My daughter.
Your father can do anything for you.
Even if it means turning back time.
And so, trapped in a place where nothing could be changed, helplessly repeating only prayers not to lose you again, having to merely watch those beast-like creatures who stabbed you in the back—a time as painful as death.
I could do anything for you, not just once, but tens or hundreds of times, whatever the price.
However, I couldn’t change you or guide you to change, as I had when I lost you.
That was the price of turning back time.
And so, how desperately I wished that you could be protected from yourself, by no one else but you.
And you changed.
Right after the regression, you seemed resigned to everything, as if about to melt away at any moment, but after that day, you kept changing.
Who could have changed you in this returned time?
Who could have protected you from yourself?
Unable to contain his rising curiosity, the Duke finally asked:
“Why did you check the outcomes of those tasks?”
When Riina’s projects began to succeed after the regression, no one was more surprised and pleased than the Duke himself.
He remembered all too well how desperately she had tried to succeed at just one thing for the family before the regression, and how ultimately she had failed at everything.
As always, Riina’s answer didn’t come immediately.
The answer to the question itself was extremely simple.
I checked because I wanted to know if those projects succeeded or failed.
But that wasn’t all, was it?
Her father was asking why she had to check the success or failure in the first place.
She nibbled her lips, lowering the tips of her eyebrows as if choosing her words, or rather, as if having so much to say that it was troublesome.
What should she say, or rather, where should she begin her story…
As if reading her mind, the Duke unusually added:
“Take your time, there’s no need to rush. Just let me know.”
Riina suddenly lifted her gaze from the teacup she had been fixated on and looked at her father.
His face was still half-hidden in shadow, but she could clearly see that his strong lips had softened.
The next moment, Riina began to pour out her story as if a latch had been unlocked.
“You may not believe this, but…”
Misfortune and fortune. The contract and deal with Einar. The stories of Becky, Lione, and Sierre.
Riina’s story seemed both endlessly long, as if it would take three days and two nights of continuous listening to hear it all, and yet also short enough to be summarized in a few sentences.
And that was exactly how her emotions felt.
From the moment she had suddenly returned after deciding to accept the poison Smith offered, dying as her body twisted on the cold floor, until now.
From the time when she had resigned herself to everything and accepted her misfortune, resolving to live freely and quietly on her own without harming the family, to the moment when she became certain she didn’t have to leave the family and father she loved so dearly.
Throughout her story, Riina was noticeably happy at times, somewhat excited at others, and at still other moments, she touched her heart as if it were swelling with emotion.
Thus, the Duke listened attentively to her story, not missing a single syllable.
“…and so I came to examine the projects I had been working on.”
Having poured out a part of her life without reservation, Riina exhaled a labored breath, and picked up the teacup she had set down.
Though it had already grown cold, how sweet the tea tasted to her.
The Duke’s blue eyes somehow blazed fiercely as he watched her quickly empty the cup of tea.