CHAPTER 62……………..
“Damn bastard!”
I stormed back to the inn, seething.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think Gabriel would stick Archibald on me.
Archibald, true to the second-son-of-a-noble-house cliché, was always busy pretending not to notice anything. But since it was Gabriel’s request, of course he went along.
I’d never liked either of them, not from the very beginning.
When I stomped into the dining hall, Aslan came running, making a fuss.
“Mom! Are you okay?”
…Lately, I’ve been making him worry too often.
What a useless mother I am.
I raised my arm in a show of strength to reassure him.
“Of course. You know how strong your mom is.”
“……”
Aslan narrowed his eyes, glancing back and forth between my arm and the knights’ arms.
How cruel…
Even Theodora chimed in, whispering,
“Once you recover, I’ll train you again.”
Damn it…
I dropped my arm and pulled my sleeve down awkwardly.
Sure, I’ve been resting for five years, but Minerva’s body isn’t weak. I’m stronger than the average woman, too.
But imperial knights, male or female, were all built like mountains. Their muscle density was on another level from birth.
It’s unfair to compare me to people like that.
So, I changed the subject.
“Why is the food already here but untouched?”
The table was already laid out with roast chicken and several other dishes.
Judging by the lack of steam, it had cooled a little while I was out.
Which meant Aslan hadn’t touched a bite because he was waiting for me.
But he puffed out his cheeks as if it were obvious.
“How could I eat without you, Mom?”
Seriously. This from the same boy who usually attacked food the second it appeared, with no thought of his mother.
Still, I felt relieved—it meant he was slowly becoming more human than cat.
“Sit. I’ll pick the meat for you.”
“Okay!”
Our meal began a little later than planned.
The roast chicken was still warm enough, cooled to the perfect temperature for Aslan’s cat tongue.
As I picked meat for him and fed him, two knights who had briefly stepped out returned and whispered to me.
“We’ve taken care of it.”
“We tied him securely to a tree, just in case he woke up.”
I had ordered them to deal with Archibald before coming into the inn.
Archibald might pretend to be clueless, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was rather quick-witted—that’s why I’d been so irritated earlier.
At this rate, he’d soon catch on to Aslan’s existence.
Sensing something off about me, Archibald would definitely come looking again tomorrow morning.
Maybe he’d even camp out in front of the inn overnight.
Gabriel’s lackey.
Anyway, as long as Archibald stayed in this village, it would be nearly impossible to keep Aslan hidden.
But I had already taken precautions. By the time Archibald woke and managed to free himself from the tree, we’d be long gone.
Rain or not, we have to leave tomorrow.
I still didn’t know what the Grand Duke was really thinking when he said he’d take responsibility for me.
There are far too many threats in this world to Aslan.
If we travel quickly, we’ll reach the Grand Duchy of Eckhardt in five days.
I’d need to prepare ahead of time, to turn the Eckhardt lands into a fortress that could protect Aslan in my stead, at least for now.
Fortunately, I had a decent bargaining chip.
If not for the original novel, I had no idea how I would’ve protected Aslan on my own.
I tried to recall how I’d even stumbled across the story before I transmigrated, but it was a pointless distraction, so the thought quickly slipped away.
The inside of the carriage was so quiet that the sound of turning pages was the loudest thing.
The Mente father and daughter had been on the road for two days now.
“Father.”
Aylla couldn’t tear her eyes away from the fast-changing scenery outside the window as she asked,
“Where do you think the lady—no, the princess—and Aslan went?”
At her question, Lloyd, who had been reading in silence, lifted his head. Aylla finally dragged her gaze from the window and chattered on.
“What if bad people hurt them again?”
Her glassy eyes, as clear as the sky, brimmed with worry.
To think Minerva had been hiding such a secret!
At first, Aylla had clung to her, acted spoiled, and been so shamelessly childish—now she felt mortified to the point of death, wracked with guilt.
“Sorry for deceiving you, Aylla. But I was always sincere with you. Stay well.”
But Minerva’s brief farewell letter had turned her guilt into a pang of sorrow.
The three of them had grown so close in such a short time.
Studying together, playing together—it had all been fun.
She wanted so badly to at least thank Minerva.
She didn’t know the details, but she understood Minerva’s situation was dangerous.
That explained the hasty farewell, and Aylla could accept it. But she still felt sad, disappointed, and hurt.
Lloyd closed his book and patted her head, trying to ease her worries.
“Don’t fret. His Majesty’s strongest knights are protecting her.”
“Are they really strong?”
“Of course. Very strong.”
“As strong as you, Father?”
Aylla’s innocent eyes sparkled as she asked.
As strong as me? As a father, it was a question that warmed his heart.
Lloyd couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips and nodded.
“Yes. Knights as strong as me. The princess and Aslan will be safe.”
Aylla’s face lit up.
Finally reassured, she nestled close to Lloyd’s side and chattered again.
“But, Father… where are we going?”
Lloyd hesitated for a moment before answering.
“To the place where I grew up.”
“The place you grew up?”
Aylla tilted her head, puzzled by the vague reply.
Lloyd chuckled at her innocent expression, but the taste in his mouth grew bitter.
Aylla didn’t know his real name or his true identity.
Being clever, she probably already suspected her foster father’s identity was fake, but she never asked—likely out of tact.
Still, going there meant he’d have to reveal the truth eventually.
But was now the right time?
She had just learned about Minerva’s hidden identity. Wouldn’t she feel betrayed if she realized every adult around her had been lying?
No—that wasn’t it. Lloyd was simply afraid of losing her trust.
He had intended to keep the truth hidden until she was older, afraid of burdening her, afraid she might walk the same path he did.
But that was his excuse, not Aylla’s reality. The fact remained: he had deceived her.
When his expression turned grave, Aylla flustered.
“Are—are you okay? Are you sick?”
“N-no, it’s not that. The truth is…”
But Lloyd’s mouth snapped shut again.
Aylla’s face only grew more worried.
I have to tell her. Before it’s too late. But… is now really the right time?
His lips wouldn’t move.
What if she’s disappointed in me?
If only he hadn’t used a false name in the first place.
One day, he meant to reveal he was a Grand Duke and pass down his title to her.
But now was the worst possible timing.
In the end, Lloyd decided to delay the truth as long as he could.
Even if it was only for a few more days.
Aylla, sensing his reluctance, didn’t press. Instead, she gave an awkward smile and pulled out a deck of cards from her handbag.
“Father, I’m bored. Let’s play cards.”
“Alright. Let’s.”
Lloyd shuffled the deck in her place—her hands were too small to manage it well.
Though, in truth, he wasn’t much better; he’d played so little himself that he fumbled almost as badly.
They dealt the hands and started playing “Go Fish.”
He wanted to raise Aylla to be like Aslan.
Not like himself.
A spoiled child, lively, radiating the marks of being truly loved.
She had grown brighter since he started raising her, but that was thanks to Minerva and Aslan.
Lloyd felt he wasn’t much help to her emotional growth.
They played in silence, neither really knowing what the other was thinking.
Soon, only a few cards remained in their hands.
Lloyd paused, then cautiously began,
“Aylla. Tell me….”
“Yes?”
“…Have you ever wished for a better home?”
