Alyss froze mid-point, her trembling finger still aimed at Leonhardt like she was accusing him of murder.Then, slowly, dreadfully, she turned her head—to the other side of the room.
There he was.
The Archduke of Carilleo. The Very Tall, Very Intimidating, Very Much Her Father.
He was seated like a king from a dream—long black hair swept into a ribbon, cheekbones that could slice reality, and eyes sharp enough to see straight through her soul. His royal robes shimmered faintly under the sunlight pouring through the tall windows. He exhaled the kind of disappointed sigh only dads with diplomatic power could manage.
Alyss, still half-covered in hedge debris and in a wrinkled nightgown, suddenly realized what an embarrassment she must look like.Not just to a duke...But to her own fictional dad.
"Holy crap he's so beautiful." She stared, dazed. "Wait. That's my DAD?"
She vaguely remembered reading that Lord Carilleo had married young and was widowed even younger. But she hadn't pictured him being... well, hot. Nor had she ever imagined standing in front of him as his daughter, covered in leaves, like a startled raccoon.
She turned next to Leonhardt.
The second protagonist.
The cute, sweet, child-version of the man who would one day destroy everyone.
He was still blinking at her like she'd just descended from the heavens. If heaven was the third-floor window and angels wore sleepwear.
"...Hi," she said.
Then—
BAM. The grand doors burst open.
In charged the maids who'd been locked out earlier, their skirts flying like war banners.
"My lady!" they cried in perfect harmony.
"Where have you been?!"
"We thought you had fainted—or been kidnapped—or possessed!"
One fainted dramatically against a column. Another began praying.
Then, cutting through the chaos like a sword of nobility, the Archduke stood and said, in the flattest possible tone:
"Pray tell me, why—why—did you enter this room through a window?"
Alyss flinched.
"I—uh—I was just getting air? And then I tripped. Into the garden. And then I thought I'd just—uh—walk back in through the side."
He raised a perfect eyebrow. "And the broken vines?"
"…Decorative. Surprise landscaping. You're welcome."
The maids gasped again, this time in syncopated rhythm.
The Archduke pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "This kind of action is not excusable, Alyss. You are my daughter and heir to one of the most respected noble families in the region. What you have shown me—and your future fiancé—is not a joke."
He was preparing to launch into full Parental Lecture Mode™ when—
"Please don't punish her!"
Everyone turned.
Leonhardt, now standing on his chair like a knight preparing for battle, clutched the edge of the table with trembling fingers. His big blue eyes shimmered with the threat of tears.
"I like how she entered the room! She looked... majestic. Like a flying fox! Or—or a battle princess!"
Alyss blinked. "…A flying what?"
Leon nodded seriously. "Like those creatures with wings and big eyes. She was like whoosh! and then bam! and she landed like a hero! I want to enter through a window now too!"
"Please don't," murmured a maid.
The Archduke looked between the two—his strange, hedge-covered daughter and this little sugar cube of a prince defending her honor with all the courage of a soggy puppy.
"…Very well," he said finally, rubbing his temples. "No punishment. For now."
The room exhaled in relief.
Alyss tried to gather what remained of her dignity—which wasn't much. She curtsied awkwardly, then realized halfway through that her knee had a leaf stuck to it.
"Thank you, Father," she said, trying to sound noble instead of like someone who'd just crash-landed through high society. "I assure you this will never happen again."
"Indeed," he said. "Because from this moment forward, you will be under full supervision. No more unsupervised mornings. No more windows."
No. More. Windows.
Her heart broke a little.
Leonhardt came up to her side, gently handing her a small handkerchief.
"It's embroidered with little foxes," he whispered. "For heroic window moments."
She stared at him. This kid was either the cutest bean in the universe or the future villain of her nightmares. Possibly both.
Still, she accepted the handkerchief and muttered, "Thanks."
Then a maid ran up, panic in her eyes. "Milady! Your forehead! You're bleeding!"
"Oh right," Alyss said casually. "I kind of headbutted a wall."
The room exploded again.