SSCP 20

Chapter 20

On my way out after meeting the Empress, I ran into my foster father. Since the State Council meeting must have just ended, he was surrounded by several noble gentlemen.
“Ena!”
My foster father called out to me with delight. Then he opened his arms wide — and when I realized what that meant, I turned pale.
Here? In front of everyone? I looked at him with disbelief, but his bright eyes showed no hesitation.
In the end, I had no choice but to run into his arms. It might’ve looked like something straight out of a melodrama, but my foster father had as much of a “daughter complex” as Rioel did.
“My daughter!”
He picked me up and spun me around once.

I was mortified. I was thirty-two years old — was I really supposed to be held like a baby?
More than that, it was impressive that he could easily lift my 170 cm frame. So that’s where Rioel got his monstrous strength — from his father!
I quickly slipped out of his arms, my face burning, and glanced at the other noblemen.
But my dear foster father didn’t seem to care in the slightest. He kept looking at me tenderly, studying my complexion as if to make sure I was well.
“So, you just met Her Majesty the Empress?”
As soon as he asked, the men behind him all turned curious gazes on me.

“Isn’t that the famous Lady Rubiche?”
“My wife absolutely adored ‘Frederica’s Man’.”
“Should I ask for an autograph?”
I could hear every word of their murmuring. Embarrassed, I only nodded politely toward my foster father, avoiding their gazes.
Then, perhaps to fill the silence, I said something unnecessary.
“I think I’ll be visiting Her Majesty more often. She seemed quite interested in my stories.”
At that, a collective gasp of admiration arose from the group. Even though I wasn’t a child, I couldn’t help feeling oddly proud.

“Oh ho, Her Majesty herself?”
“She hardly ever speaks to the young ladies of society!”
Hearing them whisper, I looked up at my foster father. He was gazing at me with pride, stroking my hair affectionately.
I was twenty-eight—no, thirty-two now. And yet, everyone here seemed to truly believe I was twenty-two.
I knew I had a youthful face, but did they really think I looked that young? It was strange that no one suspected otherwise.
Then again, back in Korea, there were students who were eighteen but looked thirty — so maybe it wasn’t that unbelievable.

While I was pondering that, I felt eyes on me again. When I looked up, I saw the men behind my father staring intensely.
“Richard, won’t you introduce us to your daughter?”
“Yes, yes. Don’t just keep her all to yourself!”
He could’ve ignored them, but instead, they insisted on meeting me. Judging from their tone, they must’ve been close to my foster father.
Just as he was about to proudly introduce me, the Duke of Rodvalte appeared and called out.
“Lady Rubiche?”

His jet-black hair — so much like Argan’s — stood out in the sunlight. Unlike my light brown hair that glowed golden in the sun, his remained an intense, pure black.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder: if I kept bumping into Duke Rodvalte and Argan, why was it so hard to meet the Duchess? I’d heard she hadn’t attended any social gatherings lately. Was she unwell?
“It’s been a while, Duke Rodvalte,” I said, lifting my skirt and bowing.

The other gentlemen looked at me with the fond expression one gives a cute puppy.
“Oh my, Richard — where did you find such an adorable daughter?”
“I’d believe it if someone told me the fairy of Niar had descended!”
“Now that you mention it, she does look like the fairy folk. She’s not actually one, is she?”
Their barrage of comments left me flustered.

In this world, there wasn’t just magic and divine power — there were monsters, and yes, even fairies.
I was reminded of that fantasy movie trilogy where men go on a journey to throw away a ring. Really, how different was this world?
“Being Richard’s daughter, she does seem special.”
“I’ve heard Prince Reynold is especially fond of her. Must be because of that unique appearance?”
If I wanted to take it the wrong way, it might have sounded like racial stereotyping. But they truly just seemed fascinated by how I looked.

Then Duke Rodvalte glanced at me briefly before stepping forward, blocking me from their view. His broad back filled my vision, and even my foster father stepped back in surprise.
“You’re taking too much interest in my future daughter-in-law,” he said coolly.
We weren’t even officially engaged yet, but sure, go ahead and declare it in public, why don’t you?
I swallowed back what I wanted to say. The duke’s words cast a chill of silence over the group — his authority was palpable.
Ah, so that’s where Argan gets his overwhelming presence.

My foster father, unfazed, patted my head again. I really did feel like a child. Still, his affection made me oddly want to act spoiled.
The disappointed nobles slowly backed away under the duke’s sharp gaze, but they didn’t leave without parting words.
“Lady Rubiche, please visit the House of Wifrey sometime. My daughter would adore you.”
“I’ll send you an invitation. The Green family would be delighted to host you.”
“Come to the House of Tob as well — my youngest would get along splendidly with you.”

Most of the ones who spoke were fathers of daughters.
Thanks to ‘Frederica’s Man’, my reputation in society had skyrocketed. Some still disliked me, but the public sentiment had already shifted in my favor.
And now, since I seemed close to the Empress and was the beloved daughter of Marquis Rubiche, many nobles clearly wanted to secure a connection with me.
The last man — Count Tob — even gave me a wink as he left.

They were nothing like the aristocrats I’d imagined. There was no stiffness or grandeur — just the friendly vibe of my dad’s old drinking buddies.
“Lady Rubiche,” Duke Rodvalte spoke in his dry, stoic tone, “you haven’t been visiting my estate much lately.”
My foster father, who had just knelt down to smooth out a wrinkle on my skirt, looked up at him.
“If I’d known Your Grace was waiting, we would’ve visited sooner,” I said with a bright smile.
The duke cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Argan and I met for a stroll and coffee in the capital. Next time, I’ll visit your estate instead.”

He regarded me quietly, then gave a slow nod.
Come to think of it, his eldest daughter had married into the Kingdom of Neiden long ago, leaving Argan as his only child. Maybe he saw me as a daughter figure.
As I tilted my head, my foster father suddenly pulled me close and glared at the duke.
“If anyone should be visiting, let Argan come to our mansion! Don’t you dare order my daughter around like that — planning to make her live with you already?”
Both the duke and I fell silent at his outburst.
Father… I don’t think that’s the issue here.

If anything, he’s the one who’d make a son-in-law live with his in-laws. And he’s the only one who doesn’t realize it.

Cha Do-hyuk was no longer the same man I used to know. Some things about him were familiar, but in most ways, he seemed like someone else entirely.
The biggest difference was his appearance — he looked completely native to this world now, flawless even by its standards.

For now, I still called him Cheodore or Cha Do-hyuk out of habit, but eventually I’d have to call him Claude. And every time I thought about that, a hollow ache filled my chest.
For a while, he’d been too busy attending the Alpine Newspaper Director’s Trial to meet me. So this was our first proper meeting in almost a month.
Perhaps that’s why he looked so drained — and also why, even though he wasn’t alone today, he seemed sulky, like a seven-year-old denied a treat.

“Tell me about Korea.”
It was the first time Cheodore had directly asked for stories of Korea.
He looked at me expectantly, his eyes burning with longing. That thirst in his gaze caught me off guard.
Maybe this was what he’d wanted to ask from the very beginning — about Korea, and about what happened after he died.

No one could ever know what the world became after they disappeared. Only Cheodore could — perhaps he was the only one who’d ever have to face that.
Even I didn’t know what became of Korea after I vanished.
“It’s been five years, so my memory’s fuzzy,” I said lightly. It was true. Life had been so hard and busy that I barely had time to reminisce.

He squeezed my hand gently and smiled faintly.
“That’s fine. To me, it’s been over twenty years.”
Five years for me — twenty-six for him. The realization hit me all over again.
When I looked up, his eyes were red, his expression filled with quiet sorrow. It startled me.

Was Cha Do-hyuk ever this kind of man? I remembered an old assistant director complaining that even AI robots showed more empathy than he did.
Right — the Cha Do-hyuk I knew would never be like this.
Still, since he’d helped me arrange the meeting with the Empress, I couldn’t refuse his request.

But now? Did we really have to talk about this now?
“Please,” he said, his voice trembling. “Tell me something that proves I’m not crazy.”
The words sounded raw, like they’d barely been held back for years. And the look in his eyes — it mirrored my own loneliness.
Five years of isolation had been hard enough for me. But he’d endured twenty-six. The thought filled me with pity.

My throat tightened; I could hardly breathe.
“I missed you so much,” he whispered, pressing his cheek into my palm with a satisfied sigh.

The problem was — we were in the middle of dinner.
And sitting right in front of us, with half-eaten food and stunned faces, were the Empress and the Emperor, staring at us as if they’d both just choked on their meal.