I Became the Assassin Family's Foster Daughter (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 13

Lovenhaf slowly turned his head.

Upon spotting someone standing on the road, his blue eyes widened.

“Uh, don’t freeze me.”

It was a cute little child, seemingly the offspring of a noble, dressed in an expensive children’s gown.

Her neat bob and wide headband looked charmingly delicate.

It must have taken considerable courage for her to stand right in front of Lovenhaf, as the rich fabric of her skirt, tightly gripped in both hands, was now creased.

Her round, silvery eyes stared straight at Lovenhaf.

“She’s someone I know.”

“…….”

Riche anxiously watched Lovenhaf, who remained silent, fearing he might freeze Trapet at any moment.

Only Riche could see the flickering aura emanating from Lovenhaf.

The memory flashed back—the Gerwer ducal family’s cellar, where he had instantly frozen the maids and servants who tried to take her away.

The moment Riche saw the boy’s power, she was certain.

‘He was one of the people who came to the cellar back then. The future Duke Hibetsman.’

Why had three dukes come to see her all at once back then?

A brief question crossed her mind, but this wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“Please leave her alone. I’m asking you.”

“…….”

Lovenhaf still said nothing.

Just like Deon. Had all ability users conspired not to answer her?

When would she finally be able to have a proper conversation with an ability user? Riche sighed inwardly and stepped forward.

[Fighting already?]

Pythons asked excitedly from atop Riche’s shoulder.

[Great! Their pathetic remnants are weaker than a baby’s palm strength to me! Show them your monstrous ability!]

The shock of discovering Riche was beyond ordinary comprehension seemed momentarily forgotten in his eagerness for a battle against an ability user.

‘Captain.’

Meanwhile, the clan guards observing the scene exchanged glances.

Miss Riche walking toward Prince Hibetsman, an ability user.

Though both possessed extraordinary powers—the Great Star and Ltiom—no one present could possibly recognize them for what they were.

To outsiders, a little girl and a squirrel simply looked weak.

This was truly an emergency.

‘No.’

Sho, the captain, spotted something and signaled silently.

‘Hold position.’

Meanwhile, Riche’s head buzzed from Pythons’ enthusiastic cheering.

[Use my power freely! Crush him!]

‘I’m not trying to fight—I just want to talk—.’

“Ah!”

As Riche walked forward, her foot suddenly shot upward.

“Th-there!”

While tumbling backward, Riche’s eyes caught sight of Lovenhaf.

His flushed cheeks, his utterly flustered expression, and his outstretched hand as he rushed toward her—

Was he trying to catch her? But she’d definitely hit the ground before he reached her. Good thing Deon wasn’t here; otherwise, she’d hear again how clumsy she was….

“……?”

Expecting a painful fall, she squeezed her eyes shut—but instead of pain, she felt herself floating upward.

Her posture stabilized. A firm chest, and the now-familiar, faint scent of cologne.

“Riche.”

And a calm, low voice calling her name.

Realizing what had happened, Riche snapped awake and looked up. Blake’s red eyes gazed down at her. She was in Blake’s arms.

“D-dad.”

Cold sweat broke out. Blake had told her to stay close to Jed.

What would he think seeing her like this?

He might think she was just a troublesome child. Maybe she’d even disappointed him.

Blake gently stroked Riche’s worried head and asked,

“You came all this way. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“……No.”

Riche nodded.

Watching his daughter, Blake silently breathed a sigh of relief inside.

Right after Duke Hibetsman had left Rodwick Mansion, Blake had ridden into the city by carriage.

On his way straight to the tailor’s, a loud explosion had made him stop the carriage.

He’d then entered the alley to investigate—and witnessed a sight that made him doubt his own eyes.

An entire street frozen solid, including passersby; Serdia’s wolves; Prince Hibetsman; and…….

‘……Riche?’

Riche stumbling as she walked toward Lovenhaf.

It was fortunate he’d arrived just in time—otherwise, she would’ve fallen onto the cold ground.

Blake’s eyes swept over the surrounding structures. The hidden guards flinched under the clan head’s unnerving gaze.

‘But.’

Blake turned directly toward Lovenhaf, who stood awkwardly frozen in place.

Normally, the boy would’ve cheerfully approached him with a “Hello, Your Grace,” and explained the situation without hesitation.

So why was he so utterly flustered now? It was easier to ask than to guess.

“Lovenhaf. Why are you alone here? Where is Duke Hibetsman?”

“Oh—Duke Rodwick.”

Lovenhaf finally snapped out of it and bowed respectfully to the duke.

Then, smiling as usual, he explained the current situation.

“My father went to buy a gift for Mother on our way back. I was just looking around the street when a horse suddenly charged toward me! And right behind it were Prince Serdia’s wolves. It looked like the Rodwick Mansion’s designer was being kidnapped, so I froze them….”

Lovenhaf’s face flushed bright red mid-sentence.

It happened right after his eyes met the bright, silvery gaze fixed on him.

“You froze them…?”

Blake asked Lovenhaf.

He surely hadn’t frozen his own mouth with his ability—but Lovenhaf stood there as if his lips were glued shut.

He eventually moved his lips slowly in response to Blake’s question, but—

“Well, I mean… I froze them… and then… after freezing….”

He couldn’t seem to pull himself together.

“?”

‘Is he not going to say anything else? I wanted to hear what he intended to do with Trapet.’

Father and daughter stood bewildered, staring at Lovenhaf—until Jed, having spotted Riche, came running breathlessly down the alley.

“M-my lord! Miss!”

Blake left the cleanup to Jed and returned to the ducal estate with Riche.

Ten days later.

A letter from Lovenhaf arrived for Deon.

To my dear friend, Dercedion Rodwick.

Is there a huge bell tower in the Rodwick territory? It must’ve broken my eardrums—I’ve been hearing bells ringing in my ears all day.

What nonsense. There’s no such thing.

Lovenhaf must’ve finally gone mad. Should I recommend a doctor?

P.S. But the child the duke took with him—is she possibly your younger sis—.

Deon crumpled the letter with a scowl and tossed it into the wastebasket.

[This is the timeline separator]

“Thanks to Duke Hibetsman’s cooperation, everything worked out well. We interrogated the thawed Serdia side, and they truly kidnapped Trapet just for her fur. No other hidden motives seem to exist.”

In Blake’s study,

Jed was reporting to Blake about the Trapet kidnapping case he’d handled over the past few days.

Blake tucked his pocket watch back into his coat and asked,

“Serdia—do they still have trouble with the succession?”

“Seems so. The eldest son was supposed to manifest, but instead, the younger son—who has no backing—manifested as an ability user.”

Jed looked weary.

Though it was an unspoken, unbreakable rule that only ability users could become heads of the four ducal houses,

occasionally, some defied this rule.

For instance, the current Duchess Serdia’s faction.

The duchess, from a prestigious family, had an eldest son who failed to manifest as an ability user.

The one who manifested was the younger son, Zikbert Serdia, only eight years old this year.

Ever since Zikbert became an ability user six years ago, the Serdia ducal house had known no peace over the succession issue.

They simply refused to accept that a child born to a lowly viscount’s daughter could become clan head.

“That’s why I’m completely at ease about our young master—he has no such worries. And besides, there’s the adorable Miss Riche…”

Ah. Jed stopped mid-sentence and broke into a cold sweat. He shouldn’t have brought up Miss Riche yet.

Blake didn’t say anything, but Jed couldn’t even look at him.

Even without looking, he could feel that sharp, prickling gaze drilling into his cheek.

Finally, Jed, feeling guilty, pleaded toward Blake.

“I really don’t deserve this. Even if I was talking with Anna, how could I possibly not notice Miss Riche leaving?”

It was truly incomprehensible to Jed.

A few days ago, in Trapet’s guest chamber—though his eyes were on the intruder Anna had caught, he hadn’t ignored the sofa where Riche sat.

How could he possibly miss a seven-year-old child leaving?

Of course, Pythons had concealed Riche’s presence—

But how was Jed supposed to know that? So he just felt wronged.

“That’s why I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

“My lord, could Miss Riche possibly be a genius?”

Otherwise, how could she have slipped out of the tailor’s like that?

Ignoring Blake’s blank expression—as if he were hearing nonsense—Jed continued,

“She hasn’t had any special education, yet she reads well, and her etiquette tutor recently praised how quickly she’s learning.”

“Hmm.”

Gradually, even Blake found himself nodding slightly at Jed’s words.

The child was indeed clever.

“A few years from now, when Miss Riche enters the Imperial Academy, she’ll probably secure the top rank without question.”

“I see.”

The Imperial Academy.

At that mention, Blake’s lips curled into a bitter smile.

Riche would be ten when she entered the Imperial Academy—the school for nobles. By then, he might no longer be in this position.

As if to remind him, a sharp ache tightened in his chest.

It was a symptom caused by the accumulated om within him.

Noticing Blake’s discomfort, Jed quietly pulled a brown medicine bottle from his coat and placed it on the desk.

It was medicine to ease the pain.

“You must live long enough to see that day. So please, stay alive.”

And please, don’t use your ability anymore.

Jed swallowed the last part but still urged him.

Stay alive. Though he knew it was an impossible wish, Blake picked up the bottle and answered Jed,

“Alright.”

[This is the timeline separator]

“Hey.”

In the corridor of Rodwick Ducal Estate,

Deon frowned as he ran into Riche coming from the opposite direction.

Because the moment Riche saw him, she clasped both hands over her mouth and nose.

“What are you doing…?”

“…….”

“I asked what you’re doing.”

Despite Deon’s blunt tone, Riche silently shook her head.

Then she scurried over to the wall, making way for him.

“…….”

Why did that feel oddly irritating?

He didn’t know what this brat was up to, but one thing was clear.

‘You’re avoiding me, aren’t you?’

Instead of walking down the empty corridor, Deon turned sideways.

He approached Riche, who was pressed flat against the wall, and asked,

“Are you avoiding me?”

Vigorously shaking her head,

Riche denied it.

“Liar. You are avoiding me.”

As Deon’s face drew closer, Riche tucked her chin all the way back, pressing her head tightly against the wall.

So she really was avoiding him.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Under Deon’s persistent questioning, Riche mumbled from beneath her hands covering her mouth and nose.

“It… sm….”

“It?”

“It stinks!”

Tears welled up in Riche’s eyes from embarrassment.

Deon furrowed his brows.

“What stinks?”