chapter 9

Every time the princess finished tormenting me, I would stay alone in my room, studying and waiting for my wounds to heal.

I did not tell Father.

Father has his own path for revenge, and I have mine. I do not want to rely on anyone.

Father is very busy. He spends less and less time at home, and every time he returns, he brings a group of people to the study to discuss matters.

Spring passed and autumn came. I watched the people Father brought back, from minor seventh-rank officials at first, to later third-rank dignitaries, then to the infamous Cruel Officials of the Eastern Depot, and even the Regent King who holds sway over the realm.

The color of Father’s official robe changed as well. He became more adept at currying favor, yet his gaze grew colder, and his figure more gaunt.

The silent, reserved Father who used to get nervous and shy whenever he saw Mother had, without my noticing, become someone who could skillfully navigate the dark currents of officialdom.

If Mother were still alive, she would surely shed tears in secret out of heartache.

She was the kind of person who would fuss for days over even the smallest bump Father suffered. Knowing how thin and haggard he has become now, she would probably lose sleep over it.