Chapter 64
Soft blonde hair fluttered in the wind, covering a small back.
From that figure alone, he instantly knew who the child was.
Nina.
When he called her name in a hurry, the girl in his dream slowly turned toward him.
The hem of a dainty white dress, soft cheeks, a hand tightly wrapped in bandages, and most of all—a mischievous, sly smile.
At the sight, so unfamiliar and strange, his breath caught in his throat.
The next moment, as if under a spell, his body moved on its own.
He bent one knee and opened his arms toward her.
And Nina opened her mouth.
“Papa.”
Her voice was young and clear.
It was such a sweet voice, as though she might leap into his arms at any moment.
But those blue eyes that called him so lovingly glimmered with cold mockery.
“Papa. If you really want to start over, grant me my wish.”
No. He shook his head desperately, repeating to himself.
Anything but that. That is not the path for you. That man—how could I, after he ruined you like this…
Then Nina raised one hand.
The hand was wrapped in bandages up to her wrist.
“If you don’t want to, then just give up on me. That’s easy, isn’t it?”
Bright red blood began to seep down the bandages.
It poured out in streams, spreading across the floor, soaking his knees.
And then suddenly, the scene shifted.
Leoparte was once again standing alone in a dim room, staring at something.
A small form covered with a white cloth—its identity was…
“Your Majesty?”
At the cautious voice, Leoparte slowly returned to reality.
For a brief moment, he couldn’t even register where he was or what he had been doing.
“Your Majesty, Princess Estella has come to visit.”
Ah, yes. That’s right. He had been waiting for Estella, as he did every morning.
Regaining his senses belatedly, Leoparte nodded in silence.
Moments later, Estella hopped her way into the study.
“Papa!”
Dark pink hair.
Sparkling ruby-colored eyes.
The young princess, the spitting image of her parents, ran straight to him and clung to his knees.
Leoparte reflexively lifted her into his arms and set her on his lap.
It was something he always did, yet today it felt as though his body was moving of its own accord.
His mind was still lost in the dream.
Since the discovery of Hameln’s first victim, the dreams he had each night had begun to change, little by little.
Or rather—something had been added.
“Papa, Mama said I can pick out my own dress for the ball! Do you like red better, or cream?”
The daughter on his lap chattered in her sweet voice.
She looked as if she had completely forgotten that her sister was missing—or perhaps, as if she had never had a sister at all.
It was, in some ways, natural.
“Well… I think red would suit Esy’s eyes best.”
Leoparte replied absentmindedly, then suddenly felt a hollow question rise within him.
Did Diana truly feel no worry for Nina?
Ever since Nina’s sudden disappearance on New Year’s Day, Diana had spent a few days silencing the maids of the First Princess’s Palace, strengthening security, and making a show of searching for Nina’s traces.
But Leoparte knew well enough—it had all been an act for his sake.
If she had truly cared for Nina, she wouldn’t have given up after just a few days of fuss.
“This must be a blessing for you.”
When no clue surfaced as to how the kidnapper had managed to take Nina, Diana suddenly turned on him, accusing him of indifference, weeping bitterly.
But Diana had always been like that.
With Anna, with Nina—everything was always his fault.
She was only ever the pitiful victim.
Now that Nina was gone, the only obstacle to her perfect victimhood had vanished.
She could now play her role flawlessly.
But I…
Leoparte had entrusted the investigation of Nina’s disappearance to the Imperial Guard under strict secrecy, but of course the case had gone nowhere.
Some even tried to link it to Hameln, but the Hameln affair was itself a labyrinth with no exit.
It was like wandering endlessly in a maze.
That was how Leoparte had been living each day—trapped in that feeling.
Even while handling state affairs, the only thing consuming his mind was Nina, and the dreams of her.
If it really was Hameln…
It was, admittedly, natural to suspect him.
The circumstances matched, and most of all—in his dream, Nina’s hand had been bandaged.
All the way to her fingertips, just like the recently discovered son of Count Doubt.
But still…
In the dream, the person Nina resented, the one she demanded from him, was not Hameln.
“Yay, I’m so glad! I actually liked the red one better too.”
Estella bubbled on happily from his lap.
Bright, affectionate, as if she knew this was the role she was meant to play.
“I see.”
“So, what will you wear, Papa?”
In his dream, Nina had been wearing a sparkling new dress.
Not the old ones Anna had worn as a child.
Diana had begun dressing Nina in Anna’s clothes only after realizing that Leoparte sometimes visited the First Princess’s Palace.
He didn’t need to ask why.
Diana simply didn’t want him to take even the slightest interest in Nina.
Even though he already neglected her enough—leaving her alone since infancy as if she didn’t exist—even his occasional visits had been unbearable to Diana.
And yet when Nina vanished, Diana turned around and blamed his indifference.
It was absurd.
Both she and he.
“Papa?”
When Leoparte didn’t respond, Estella whined softly.
“Hm? What did you say?”
“I asked what you’re going to wear to the ball.”
Oh, right. The ball was near.
The Carnival Festival Banquet—the biggest event of the season.
Did Ravi say he would come?
He vaguely recalled hearing that his eldest brother, notorious in the West, would be visiting.
Leoparte slowly lowered his gaze to Estella.
Those rabbit-red eyes, exactly like his, left no doubt—she was his and Diana’s child.
Unlike Nina, who resembled someone else entirely.
If Ravian were to see Nina, who looked just like Anna, how would he react?
If Ravian saw her, how would he treat her?
If this matter is connected to you, Ravi…
Leoparte had long since discarded the suspicion that Nina’s disappearance was Diana’s fabrication.
And even Ravian, for all his cunning, couldn’t possibly have spirited Nina away so cleanly from the heart of the imperial palace.
And yet, every moment, Ravian weighed on him.
He irritated him beyond reason.
Leoparte had always disliked him, but now he wanted nothing more than to take Ravian’s head and cast it at Diana’s feet.
Because what Nina wanted in his dream was…
“Esy.”
At his soft call, Estella blinked her round eyes.
Leoparte brushed back the bangs from her forehead and said:
“Sorry, Papa is a bit busy right now. Will you come back later?”
“…Okay.”
The waiting nursemaid approached and lifted Estella into her arms.
As she was carried out, Estella waved to him.
“Bye-bye, Papa.”
Such a sweet gesture.
But over that gesture, the last image of Nina he had seen overlapped.
“Goodbye, Papa.”
When the door closed, Leoparte pressed his hand against his chest—the same hand that had waved.
A crushing weight pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
And you still call me a father…
