The End

“Do you wanna hear a story, Aya?”

As they walked by the lake, Roniel began telling Aya about a royal who had once fallen in love with the servant of a noble from an enemy faction—a secret, forbidden romance.

‘Why is he telling me stuff he said I shouldn't read?!’

The noble used the servant as a pawn against the royal in the bid for the throne. Orchestrated to secure the crown for another royal favored by that noble's faction, the scheme led to the servant's demise. This was where all the tragedies started. Believing that the servant perished in the noble's hands, the royal committed a most reckless act that came at a great cost.

“That person… He forgot everything, even his beloved.”

Aya gasped, appalled. “That can't be! What now?”

“He lost his memories, but…not everything.”

Roniel turned around, making Aya do the same, and there, they found Lorenz.

Every thought she had in mind immediately scattered. Despite all that had happened and the questions she had, the first thing she felt as soon as she saw him was joy. Before she realized it, she was running towards him.

“Lord Lorenz!” She barely noticed the surprise on Lorenz’s face as she struggled to get the words out. “Thank you very much for helping Dad! He's alright now!”

She thought he might smile, but instead, his face strained with an emotion she couldn’t fully understand. He merely stared at her, and there's such profound guilt in his eyes that she felt uneasy.

“Don’t thank me. I should be apologizing to you. Forgive me.” His voice was quiet, almost painfully so.

“W-Why…?” She swallowed before continuing, “Why do you keep saying that?”

He drew in a shaky breath. “What happened to your stepfather... I’m to blame. I’d advised him to search for your mother’s relatives.”

Her eyes widened, her pulse quickening.

The family of her mother whom she’d lost before she’d even been old enough to truly know her—she had never sought those people out. In fact, she had been afraid they would take her away from Roniel. But then, Lorenz had made him do that very thing without telling her.

“I thought it would help you.” He looked at her helplessly—remorsefully. “If your mother’s family was of noble blood, finding them could have changed everything. They could be allies who would support you, protect you, strengthen your position in the royal family. I thought I was doing the right thing. I…never imagined that would lead to this.”

Aya had never felt this torn.

On one hand, she’s upset that he’d kept it from her all this time. On the other hand, she couldn’t fault him for doing what he believed was in her best interests. He couldn’t possibly have predicted it would do the opposite.

“You did nothing wrong, my lord,” Roniel told Lorenz. “If you led me to anything at all, it’s to the truth.”

His gaze shifted towards her. She felt her chest constrict. Her stepfather regarded her with sadness, yet beneath was a quiet resolve to confront reality.

“What truth?”

Her stepfather exhaled. “If I hadn’t done as he said, I would’ve been in the dark my whole life—you would have, he would have.”

A cold thread of dread wound through her chest. Roniel turned to Lorenz, whose face had gone weary pale, then back to Aya. There was a brief silence before he talked once more.

“I discovered who your father was.”

The words struck her like a fierce blow, and she could neither think nor move.

Of course, she’d thought about her real father before. When she was younger, there’d been a blank space where she believed that person should’ve been—a missing piece. She’d wondered whether he had abandoned her. She’d wondered whether he had passed away. She’d wondered many things —

Whether, somewhere out there, he’d seen a child and also wondered if she might be his.

Aya had spent years imagining a faceless man. She could create an illusion of her mother. At least, she could meet her in her fantasies, but she couldn’t do the same with him. She had never known what her father was like.

“Didn’t I say I wanted you to meet someone?” Roniel’s voice was soft and gentle. “That is Lord Lorenz, your father.”

The world around Aya seemed to stop.

For a fraction of time, she struggled to make sense of everything. Then, ever so slowly, she looked towards Lorenz. He didn’t deny it. He wasn’t even surprised. He simply stood there, his silence heavier than any confession.

It all came crashing down on her now. ‘How he’d acted during the new year’s banquet and the feast, how he’d acted in the days before, and how he’d acted even during…’ Aya glanced at the lake, where she had her second Aqueous Bestowal. ‘From way back…? Did he hear my name and realize it then?’

Aya took an involuntary step backward, unsure what to feel. Lorenz breathed in, suppressing the tears that threatened to fall.

‘My father…’

Her eyes burned as many emotions fought inside her—shock, confusion, grief, relief, and behind them all, a strange ache that she couldn't name. The person who took her to the palace, saved her one and only family, and helped her time and again was her father all along. Immediately, she searched his face—the shape of his eyes, the curve of his mouth, the way his brow furrowed. She wondered which she’d inherited from him.

‘Did he want to see me? Did he try searching for me? Was he even aware that I existed?’

Most of all, she wanted to know whether he had ever loved her.

But the words wouldn’t come. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even move.

He took one hesitant step forward, the hurt on his face breaking her heart.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Lorenz said, “I should’ve, but I genuinely didn’t know.”

From there, he told her about the past.

A maid from House Oulixeus met a prince. She was Yvonne, her mother, whose true name was Vivienne. It was when Chrysander’s relative had proposed marriage to Lorenz, which fell through because of her. The faction leader had plotted to target her to undermine Lorenz, who was a strong contender for Gallahan. While Chrysander failed, Lorenz had discovered the scheme and believed Vivienne had been eliminated.

‘That’s the same story as earlier.’

“That man… He’d tried to dispose of each and every last remaining piece of your mother,” Roniel said with a grim expression. “Be it the bookshop. Be it me. Be it you.”

‘Ah, the assassin during the beast attack…’

“It’s my fault, too. Instead of finding the truth myself, I let my emotions take over, and…” Lorenz trailed off and looked down in shame. “I lived this past decade and so without any memories.”

She’s right that he wasn’t aware she existed, then.

It was almost funny that someone who’d always been invisible to others had truly been forgotten. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to be resentful or indignant. Wherever she had been left forgotten, at least, she was happy. She had a family and a home to belong to, after all. Even more so, she’d still somehow learned the truth.

“Did you ever find it odd that you couldn’t remember?” she asked, her throat closing up as she forced out her voice.

“I did, but there were circumstances in which I couldn’t afford to know why,” he answered, unable to look her in the eye.

Even though she hadn’t been a princess for a long time, she knew at once that it could be because of the royal family, and perhaps, nobility as a whole. High society had always been convoluted. Blood relations were certainly matters of significance. Given that the cause behind all this was a noble's obsession with ancestry, she understood why he had no control over the situation.

Still, Aya wouldn’t just let Lorenz get away with it.

“You should’ve tried anyway,” she huffed and folded her arms.

His eyes rounded for a second before softening. “I know.”

“You missed everything.”

“Yes.”

“My first words, my first steps, my first tooth…”

“Yes.”

“So, you have to make it up to me!”

That earned a disbelieving look from him. It’s almost as if he expected to be spurned instead.

“For all the things you should’ve been there for.” She pondered a bit more, then added, “For all the birthday presents, too, and just so you know, I only accept books.”

“Aya,” her stepfather sighed. “You shouldn’t speak like that.”

“But he owes me.”

“...Are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I am not throwing a tantrum.”

Aya puffed out her cheeks while Roniel gave Lorenz a look of apology. But of course, there’s no sensible way to intervene in an argument between a father and daughter whose first order of business was to collect several years' worth of missed moments.

“It’s quite alright. I understand what it’s like.” Lorenz’s expression smoothed as he uttered those words.

Aya recalled him saying those same words before. ‘Something about how manners can be learned and-’

“To want something so badly that you can do little more than throw a tantrum like a child.”

She blinked a few times. He smiled and nodded.

“I understand what it’s like to want something that you can’t have, to continue reaching for it even when your hands keep closing around nothing, and to tell yourself eventually that maybe it’s easier not to want it this much in the first place.” He paused, taking a slow breath. “So, if she wants to complain about the years I missed, then I will listen.”

Lorenz stared at Aya with so much love it almost hurt. He reached out his hand, his fingers quivering. Suddenly, she remembered the last time he did this. She’d rejected him then, and he'd pulled away. Now, he regarded her as though he was trying to memorize her while his hand remained outstretched —

As though he was terrified that fate would steal her again.

“And I can give you every book you want. I’m a teacher. I should have plenty,” he continued, his smile turning bittersweet. “I’ll give all to you, and you may still decide that I owe you enough to last the rest of my life.”

Tears streamed down her face. She sniffed, wiping them away before slipping her hand into his at last. It’s warm, and by this point, familiar. His fingers finally steadied as well. He smiled, grateful to have been given another chance.

And as Aya stood there with Lorenz’s hand wrapped around hers and Roniel watching right by her side, she found that the years behind them weren’t quite as important as all the years that were still waiting ahead.