Father, I Won’t Do Anything

Rosian’s mother, Princess Elia, had been a prodigious genius in swordsmanship from a young age.

Thanks to her talents, she was able to become the hero who saved the continent from the Demon King’s curse, alongside Diamid.

-You need not worry. As the son of the esteemed Princess Elia, he is sure to excel.

-I knew you would succeed. Truly befitting of Princess Elia’s bloodline and prowess.

-Hmm, His Highness doesn’t seem to resemble Princess Elia much…

However, this led Rosian’s efforts to be overshadowed by his lineage, his ordinariness diminishing his mother’s reputation.

Rosian lived in fear – of his mediocrity being exposed, of people realizing he couldn’t match his mother’s greatness.

No, others’ opinions didn’t matter. But what if…

-Rosian. Are you truly my son?

…His own mother uttered those words of doubt? Could he withstand that?

‘…No.’

Rather than face that, he preferred making excuses about lacking effort to fully cultivate his talents.

His first encounter with Jaina had occurred while fleeing swordsmanship practice.

“This kid is exceptionally skilled in magic, just like her father.”

Hearing such words before others, before a younger girl no less, wounded Rosian’s pride.

‘Will this child soon look down on me too, with skills praiseworthy enough for Mikael?’

Yet Jaina offered an unexpected response.

“Well, I don’t have a father, so…”

The more she spoke, the wider Rosian’s eyes grew.

“Even if I say the potions I consumed were elixirs that enhanced my magic abilities, it wouldn’t evoke any particular emotion. An elixir is just an elixir, after all.”

As Jaina nonchalantly shrugged, Rosian was deeply shaken.

He defensively retorted without thinking:

“But conversely, wouldn’t you feel hurt if others said the elixir you consumed was superb yet you couldn’t utilize magic well?”

“Well, maybe I just threw up the elixir.”

Jaina’s casual reply left Rosian speechless, a bombardment of shocks.

It was the complete opposite of his inability to escape his mother’s shadow.

After a moment’s thought, Rosian voiced the question he had long harbored.

“Miss Jaina, are your parents perhaps the black Night Dragon Bezrice and the Tower Lord?”

“So you knew.”

“Mikael made it quite obvious.”

“Aargh, aargh!”

Though Mikael protested vehemently about his slipshod mouth, Jaina shook her head dismissively.

“It’s alright. You’re not just anyone – you’re His Imperial Highness.”

True to Jaina’s words, Rosian held no preconceived notions about her dragon heritage, nor any intention to exploit her.

He was simply stunned to witness someone unfettered by parental legacies, unlike himself.

‘The Tower Lord Diamid is renowned as a hero on par with, no, even greater than Princess Elia.’

Her staunch refusal of any reward upon their first meeting had already left an impression, but now even more so.

This child before him, barely older than eight yet radiating a presence beyond her tender ten years.

Her eyes shone brilliantly, brimming with her own principles.

“Miss Jaina is truly… unusual. No…”

Rosian reconsidered his words before smiling.

“Truly special.”

Gradually, an unfamiliar emotion bloomed in his heart, like morning sunlight filtering through shadows.

Not an ordinary fondness, but a peculiar, special feeling befitting Jaina’s uniqueness.

“Alright, let’s return to our earlier discussion.”

Seemingly detecting the odd atmosphere even with his obliviousness, Mikael abruptly cut in.

“Shorty, about your ideal type. Do you like handsome, powerful, wealthy ‘strong’ men?”

“Not particularly.”

“What? If not that, then what?”

“It’s nothing much…”

“If it’s nothing much, tell us, Miss Jaina.”

Why were the two suddenly so interested in her ideal type? Jaina scratched her cheek hesitantly.

“Just ordinary.”

Though she tried to brush it off vaguely, Rosian persisted.

It seemed Mikael had struck his ‘strength’ weakness as described in the novel.

Jaina felt awkward.

‘If I don’t answer, they’ll just keep asking.’

Under their pressing gazes, the briefly contemplative Jaina decided to simply be honest.

“My ideal type has three conditions.”

Having long considered this, her voice rang clear.

“What are those three conditions?”

“Why are you even asking? What would you do with her ideal type?”

“Well, I’m just curious…”

“Shorty, do you want to share your own ideal type with this brat?”

Jaina shook her head vigorously.

“…It’s a bit too personal to tell others.”

“See? She doesn’t want to. So stop prying and scram.”

Mikael bluntly rebuffed him with a firm expression.

Since Jaina also seemed unwilling to discuss it further, Rosian had no choice but to back off.

* * *

After the play ended, Mikael called Rosian aside when Jaina was absent.

“You even figured out she’s a dragon, huh.”

Laced with lingering annoyance, his tone was brusque from the start.

Before Rosian could open his mouth, Mikael swiftly continued:

“But don’t you sense something about her?”

Rosian found Mikael’s demeanor perplexing, his unprovoked hostility slightly irksome.

Tilting his head, Rosian replied:

“It’s amusing to hear about sensing things from someone so willfully capricious.”

“Would you say the same if you lost an arm?”

“Could you bear that?”

“Hah, trusting your mother? You’re just a pitiful wretch with nothing but inborn traits to boast.”

Mikael scanned Rosian from head to toe with an utterly disdainful gaze, making no effort to conceal his contempt.

“I never took a liking to you, but today I can no longer tolerate you.”

In Rosian’s memories, Mikael had always been an indifferent cousin devoid of affection toward him.

Since Rosian felt the same lack of fondness, he had paid no mind to Mikael’s evident discrimination between himself and Jaina, or his taunting jabs.

However, being mocked through his mother – his known weakness – was something even Rosian couldn’t overlook today.

The usual geniality faded from Rosian’s expression, replaced by icy coldness.

“You…”

Just as Rosian was about to retort sharply, a sigh escaped Mikael’s lips.

“Dragons live far longer than you.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected response, Rosian froze momentarily.

“So don’t go prancing about her, no matter how handsome, wealthy or powerful you think you are.”

Mikael’s gaze seemed to drift elsewhere, his voice tinged with wistfulness and melancholy.

“Don’t act familiar if you can’t take responsibility.”

The previously riled up Rosian was taken aback – he hadn’t anticipated such words from Mikael.

“When a human like you dies, who will bear the burden of that loss?”

“…”

“A worthless wretch without the gall to reach the pinnacle. Don’t even dream of it.”

More than the unexpectedly concerned words from one who had never shown care for others, what lingered in Rosian’s mind was the notion that as a dragon, Jaina would inevitably face more partings and longings than others.

-Don’t pretend to cherish her when it is only fleeting, nor claim her as precious to you.

In that moment, Diamid’s previous words resurfaced in his thoughts.

‘Was that his meaning?’

At the time, the mention of parents had stung, but now Rosian realized the Tower Lord’s words held a different implication.

-That should be well known to an imperial grandson raised by parents.

His mother, Princess Elia, had ascended to live an extraordinarily long life. However, his father had died young, leaving her with eternal grief.

As their former comrade, Diamid must have witnessed their parting firsthand.

‘So that was why he said those words.’

“…This is the second time I’ve heard that remark.”

“From your mother? Unlikely. Her husband died early, yet she uttered such words herself?”

“…”

Rosian remained tightlipped, withholding that it was Diamid who had spoken those words.

His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

Even after Mikael grew tired of demanding a response and left, Rosian stood rooted at that very spot.

* * *

After parting from Mikael, Rosian felt compelled to seek out Jaina, though he knew not why.

‘Jaina’s room is in the storehouse?’

The seriousness on Rosian’s face as he headed there was profound.

‘How could she live in such a place? Wouldn’t Jaina, still a child, feel lonely and distressed?’

To Rosian, raised in the imperial palace, it was akin to being struck over the head.

No matter how fearsome the Tower Lord, to receive such treatment…

Moreover, did Mikael admonish him despite knowing all this?

With a troubled expression, Rosian massaged his face.

‘No, it’s not time to blame others. What should I do? I can’t just take her to the palace.’

Even as an imperial grandson, he lacked grounds to bring an outsider to the palace.

And even if he did, as a child himself, how could he care for another?

“Haah.”

Lost in such thoughts, he soon found himself before the storehouse entrance. Raising his hand, Rosian knocked on the door.

Knock knock.

“Please enter.”

Jaina’s distinct clear voice called out. Upon opening the door, the storehouse appeared warmer and cleaner than expected.

Unbeknownst to Rosian, this was all thanks to Mikael and Hilvenzia’s efforts in refurbishing her previously dilapidated quarters.

‘Well, it’s better than I imagined at least…’

He had envisioned a cramped, dusty, dark room, but instead found it surprisingly bright and cozy.