I’ve Become the Villainess’s Daughter – Chapter 120

“Good morning.”

When he greeted me, someone nearby asked curiously,
“Did you already know him?”

“You fool. How could I not know a newcomer?”

Another person beside him chimed in, teasing,
“Newcomer, meaning Princess Laila’s name is well-known?”

“That too, but…”

“And it’s been a while since a new member joined.”

“I think I saw those two dancing together at the banquet.”

Among them were people who had indeed seen Teah and me dance at the banquet. But Teah and I feigned ignorance.

“We’ve been childhood friends, Prince Teahroha and I,” I said.

Hearing that, the others nodded to themselves, seemingly satisfied. Interest in our relationship quickly faded. It seemed that, in general, the mages here had little concern for matters outside their field—or if they did, it vanished quickly.

“Anyway, you can call me however you feel comfortable,” Teah said. Being in public and on official duty, I couldn’t address him casually as I would in private. Still, it seemed he was trying to make things easier for me.

“Then what should I call you?” I asked.

Hestia interrupted from beside me,
“We all call him the Captain.”

“The Captain,” I repeated, rolling the title around in my mouth. It was perfect. I was a court mage, after all.

“The Captain,” I said again, and Teah nodded.

“Laila.”

“….”

Oddly, I felt a strange twist in my stomach. The thought that he was my direct superior felt… unusual.

The vice-captain added some explanation.
“You know that all mages have to submit research reports and logs, right? Everything ultimately goes to Captain Teahroha for approval, so it’s best to make a good impression. Even if you’ve been childhood friends.”

Everyone nodded at his joking tone.

“That’s right. Research budget allocation is also the Captain’s responsibility.”

“Do your best, Laila.”

I nodded earnestly.
“I guess the only way is to make a good impression on the Captain.”

“How so?”

“Well, maybe I should leave a mark in the Captain’s office every day?”

Teah smiled.
“You’ll probably be visiting the Mage Tower quite often from now on.”

The members around us simply smiled at his words. Watching them, I realized just how popular he was here.

Teah truly was a powerful mage. For the mages who had dedicated their lives to research, he was not only a fellow researcher but also a respected teacher.

I’d heard that the position of Captain of the Court Mages had been vacant for years. The eccentric mages were hard to unite, and there simply hadn’t been an outstanding candidate.

But a few years ago, when the Emperor ordered Teah to learn magic from the court mages, everything changed. Teah showed his extraordinary talent to the other mages, who were so impressed that they repeatedly begged the Emperor to appoint him Captain.

And so, Teah truly became the master of this place.

The mages discussed their research and papers with him passionately, while Teah stood at the center, radiating energy. I couldn’t help but smile.

As a court mage, my first research project was to create potions for people with weakened immunity.

Since making potions to cure diseases like Rugimi in the Siwin Kingdom, I had been focused on lifesaving magic potions. After officially starting at the Mage Tower, I continued exploring that direction.

The Emperor had influenced my choice of topic. Aging and frail, he recently found that no combination of medicines helped when he fell ill. I intended to begin by studying the immune systems of patients like him.

As promised, the Emperor generously supported me, providing expensive magical ingredients and the latest research papers.

Of course, I had to prove my worth, but he regularly summoned me to assess his condition—just like today.

The Emperor sat on his grand jade throne, gleaming gold, but he looked extremely weary. Advisors and a few attendants were by his side, checking his pulse.

I recorded his condition carefully as instructed and asked occasional questions. Understanding his health was the first priority in helping him recover.

Then, the Emperor suddenly asked,
“By the way, I hear there’s been happy news in the Roshahil family?”

“Yes,” I replied quickly.
“It’s my eldest brother’s first child. Many people have congratulated him.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“It’s a boy. His name is Ragwin.”

“Good, that’s wonderful.”

I thought that would be the end of it, but the Emperor furrowed his brows, recalling something.
“My first child was Alteo, wasn’t he?”

He seemed to have more to say. I set my pen down and listened.

“He was Cardia’s child. I watched his birth with my own eyes. His golden hair and eyes were so radiant… I named him Alteo on the spot.”

I stared at him absentmindedly.

It was well-known that he favored Alteo, but I had always wondered why. Why only Alteo?

Instead of asking directly, I chose another approach.
“Prince Teahroha was born around the same time, right? He’s only a year younger than Prince Alteo.”

“Teahroha…”

Alteo was born in summer, Teah in winter. Though slightly over a year apart, their growth pace wouldn’t differ much.

The Emperor seemed to ruminate briefly, then muttered,
“…For some reason, my memories of that child are faint.”

“….”

I looked down to hide my stiff expression. It wasn’t just faint—it was almost nonexistent.

Teah had grown up with little parental care. The Emperor seemed to reflect quietly.
“No, it’s not just Teahroha. Memories of Dietmiel and Piater are also vague.”

Dietmiel was the third prince, Piater the fourth. Teahroha, as the Empress’s son, received attention similar to Alteo, while the others, born of concubines, remained in the shadows. Only Alteo and Teahroha stood out in the succession.

The Emperor’s indifference likely played a role. As the most powerful man in the empire, he only focused on Alteo, so naturally, others paid attention only to him.

Even considering his busy schedule, he was far from an ideal father or husband.

Still, I knew Teah worried about him. The concern in Teah’s demeanor when discussing the Emperor’s health looked genuinely lonely. Losing both parents would grieve him greatly—he was that kind of kindhearted person, capable of forgiving even a father who never gave him affection.

That was why I felt even more determined.
“The past can’t be changed,” I said casually.
“But perhaps you could spend a bit more time with the other princes? The weather is nice these days; it’s perfect for outings.”

“Hmm…”

“Especially Prince Teahroha, who has been away at war for months. While grand ceremonies and banquets are fine, perhaps sometimes spending time with family would be good?”

The Emperor let out a small groan.
“I see. I’ve rarely spent time with those children… Though perhaps calling them children is too late.”

A fleeting expression of regret crossed his wrinkled, aged face—like a person suddenly reflecting on their life.

“Perhaps one day, I’ll go out with them,” he continued.

“Yes, of course,” I replied.
“Thank you, Princess Laila.”

“You’re welcome,” I said with a smile.

“Teahroha…” the Emperor trailed off.
“I never once looked back at him, yet he grew into such a fine young man. I was truly astonished…”

After meeting with the Emperor and returning, I remained deep in thought.

His words lingered in my mind.

Does a ruler like the Emperor, called “supreme over all,” truly see family matters as trivial?

Thinking about it, I recalled Ragwin. The sight of Eddie and Lanshe smiling so happily at him. I shook my head slightly.

Even the Emperor had chances—to love Teah and his other children as Eddie and Lanshe loved Ragwin. But he didn’t. Time doesn’t rewind. Teah’s painful childhood, and the fact the Emperor neglected him, remained undeniable truths.

That evening, at Hestia’s insistence, I went up to the Mage Tower rooftop.

She had begged me to watch the stars late into the night. Hestia had a particular interest in astronomy and the movement of the stars.

On the rooftop, several mages were already gazing at the stars and moon. When Hestia spotted me, she waved excitedly.