Tensei Oujo wa Kyou mo Hata o Tatakioru Chapter 43
Tensei Oujo â ch43
The Reincarnated Princessâs Dialogue.
I was staring at the words on the faded paper rather than reading them. I sighed.
Whatever Michael discussed with Lady Irene that day was unknown to me.
I was curious whether or not he spoke to her on the topic his powers, but I couldnât straight out ask. Iâd be in trouble if he turned the situation around and asked how I knew, and I didnât think I had the confidence to pass it off. Besides, ever since the meeting, I havenât run into him anywhere, so I didnât even have the chance to ask.
Any details about the Michael before his body was taken over by the Dark Lord was miniscule, even in the game.
That was why I had absolutely no idea what he thought, or how heâll try to act.
ââŠâŠâŠâŠâ
Another sigh slipped out.
I was furious at myself for being so useless.
It was comparable to me using a strategy guide up until now, and knowing beforehand where the traps awaited me made it easy to avoid them as I lived my life. But this was where it diverged.
Destroying flags and continuously avoiding a chaotic future has yielded a situation quite different from the gameâs.
Knowledge pertaining only to the game was useless.
But even if Iâve lost my metaphorical compass, I must learn how to keep moving.
âHey.â
âAhhhâ!!â
I jumped when a voice suddenly spoke to me. At the same time, a hand reached out from behind and grabbed the book lying open in my lap.
I twisted around with the intent of taking it back, only to freeze.
âIf you have no intention of reading, donât bother.â
Light blue eyes pinned me down, scrutinizing me with displeasure. The tone of voice without a slice of warmth was cutting.
Shivering as sweat dripped down my back, I silently whispered to myself, You screwed up.
The man sat up from the largish couch. Still irritated, he closed the book with a rough move. I wanted to tell him not to handle such a historically valuable book with so poorly, but it wasnât something I could say when I was spacing out with that valuable book not a moment ago.
I got off the end of the couch I had been sitting on and stood on the floor.
I took a deep breath, and tightened my stomach. I controlled my expression, straightened my posture, and bowed my head.
âI am sorry, father.â
Father looked at me, and the frown between his brows deepened.
âFor what?â he asked sharply.
Though his young daughter made a laudable effort to apologize, the air around him did not soften in the slightest. I was disgusted with myself for spacing out even knowing he was that sort of person.
This was my fourth time visiting my fatherâs chambers. There were no friendly exchanges, but the time spent only in silent book reading was peaceful, and perhaps a little listless. It was an excuse for an act of folly that served me no good.
ââŠâŠâŠâŠâ
At a loss for words to respond, I chewed on my lip.
Father looked at me coldly, chin propped in a hand, the elbow resting on a raised knee.
âWhat do you apologize for? Letâs hear it,â he asked once more.
âForâŠâ
My voice shook from nervousness.
I scolded myself for almost looking down in shame, and tucked in my chin.
âNot having the desire to read, even though I had the book open.â
I answered honestly, like a fool.
I had a feeling I did the same thing the first time I came here. When he asked me if I couldnât read, and I gave him my idiotic reply that I would even if I couldnât.
I havenât made any progress.
But what else could I do? If one had neither the head nor the guts to use trickery, all that was left was defiance.
âThough presented with an opportunity to peruse through a precious, valuable book, I was preoccupied and halfhearted.â
With another muttered apology, I bowed my head again.
Father sighed with an annoyed look.
âIf you honestly think apologizing will grant you pardon, you are gravely mistaken.â
His words were harsh, but he expression appeared somewhat mollified.
The book he kept out of my reach he now handed over like he was forcing it on me. I was amazed he gave it back so easily, but I returned to my senses and tightly hugged the book close with both hands.
Father grabbed the wine bottle on the table and poured all that remained into his glass. I watched him gulp it down like he didnât even taste it, and he pointedly ordered me to sit.
There was enough space for one person at the end, so I sat on the side. I brought a hand to my fast beating heart and softly exhaled.
I tried to open the book, this time resolved to concentrate so that I wouldnât get kicked out. However, I noticed the stare pointed at me from the side, and my hand froze.
I wanted to ignore the look, but I didnât have the nerves needed for something like that. Timidly, I looked in that direction.
âWhat preoccupied you?â
âErâŠâ
âYou had worries? Tell me.â
He said the words, but I didnât immediately understand. My eyes popped open, and I stared at my father.
I had a feeling he asked me to share my troubles, butâŠwas I hearing things? It was just my imagination, wasnât it? No way that would ever happen, right?
âMy troubles, uhâŠare not, important enough to trouble you for advice, father.â
âWho offered advice? I only said Iâd hear it.â
âEr, yes.â
Right!!
Even though I was irritated, I was also relieved.
That arrogance belonged to father, no doubt about it. Great. For a moment there, I thought Iâd slipped into parallel universe.
Only, it may be good to have peace of mind, but what should I say?
I couldnât afford to speak of Michaelâs powers. Wasnât there any safer topic?
After a short while, I said, âI was troubled with my own lack of ability to apply my skills.â
âAbility to apply your skills?â
âYes, father. I am weak at handling the unexpected. I am only accustomed to approaching situations that are predictable to a certain degree with plan in mind, and my ability of adapting to the unforeseen is lacking.â
My father neither agreed nor disagreed.
His stare pressured me to continue.
âI am full of shortcomings. I am weak at quick thinking, and I lack decisiveness. When situations beyond what I expect occur, I am just thrown into jumbled mess, and I canât do a thing. This will not do.â
For example, even if the future begins to progress in a completely different direction from the game, I canât afford to come to a stop and waver.
Not knowing was not an excuse. Not understanding did not make it justifiable.
My hands, resting on top of the book lying on my knees, clasped painfully. I watched as my nails bit into my skin.
âI wish to become capable of dealing with any of situation.â
After a moment of quiet, father said in a low voice, âI see.â
When my eyes swung around to him, I was struck speechless to find his handsome face closer than I expected it.
He scrutinized me from point-blank range, and sighed solemnly.
âSo my daughter is a big fool.â
It took a few seconds before fatherâs words reached my brain. A throbbing vein popped up on my forehead, and my voice was low as I squeaked, âExcuse me?â
What did he just say?
After being half-forced to voice my worries, what did this ass just say?
A look of rage appeared on my face and I glared at him. Father watched and puzzledly inclined his head to the side.
His silk-fine platinum blonde hair swayed sleekly, casting a shadow on his pale skin. Even such a casual move seemed picturesque and that made my blood boil more.
Every little thing is beautiful with you!! I almost swore at him incomprehensibly.
âFather. Just nowâŠwhat did youâŠ?â
âI said, my daughter is a big fool.â
Father repeated everything slowly, as if he was talking to a young child.
Youâre very skilled at getting on someoneâs nerves, arenât you? You shit father.
âShe wishes to be capable of dealing with anything, she said?â he spat, not hiding his disgust. âWho in the world does she think she is, this young girl alive a mere ten years?â
A princess?! I wanted to retort, among other things.
But in reality, I could only chew on my lips, my face flushed red with anger and embarrassment.
I was pissed off. Mad enough to spit nails, but I couldnât talk back.
Because it was an unshakeable truth that I was a powerless and ignorant brat.