3. What A Scary Man!

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I haven't exactly been slacking in the five years since my reincarnation.

I had a very detailed and foolproof plan for the time when it came to meet my father. Namely, when I turn nine, I would just not go to the garden and not see him.

Simple. Problem solved. I won't ever have to see him and risk getting executed. As for Jennette's arrival, well, I was going to cross that bridge when I came to it.

And right now, that plan of mine has gone up in flames.

My legs tremble as Claude glares at me like I'm the dirt beneath his shoes – no, even more lowly than that. That gaze of his is so piercingly full of contempt and apathy that I positively wither under it. It is a bucket of frigid water that has been dumped all over me, dousing my brief happiness from finding the gold statues.

"Was it that dancer from Siodonna? You look like that wench." Even his voice is cold. "Then again, it doesn't matter who she came from." He's talking about me like I'm not even here!

"Your Majesty," a voice says hesitantly behind Claude, and I vaguely register the redhead knight as Felix Robane, mentioned in the novel as the emperor's most trusted follower.

"And I think I remember... what that wench named you," Claude continues in that dangerously soft tone of his.

No, please don't remember me! It's best if you just forget all about me and return to your palace and leave me alone! My fervent pleas will go unanswered, however.

"I believe it was Athanasia."

How can one sentence sound so much like the fall of the ax, feel so much like the tightening of the noose?

Athanasia? Oh, I don't know any Athanasia. I'm not her! I just happened to look like her! You've got the wrong person, Mister! I want to scream, but my voice is stuck in my throat and what comes out is a pathetic squeak.

Claude's hand reaches towards me and I flinch.

"I'm wounded by your description of me, Claude."

Diana!

She stops a few feet away from us, and sweat dots her forehead. She must have run here after witnessing the scene.

Overwhelming relief floods me, which swiftly turns into dread. She just addressed Claude by his name, dropping all honorifics. And no one does that – that is, and live to see another day!

Felix bows his head quickly, momentary surprise at seeing Diana flashing across his face. (And what a handsome face!)

"My lady," he greets respectfully.

"Please don't lay your hand on our daughter." Diana walks to me, her movement as graceful as always, and wraps one arm around my shoulders. I sink into her warmth.

"You..." Claude chokes out, and he looks to be... in pain? One hand clutches his chest, and his eyes are like a burning inferno, so potent in their intensity. "You..." he hisses again.

"Yes, me. Your lover," Diana says with a sad smile. I glance up at her with alarm.

Is my mother... delusional?! Nothing about the way Claude treats her suggests that they're lovers, at least from Claude's end. Or maybe she's a masochist?

Both options sound terrible.

"But no matter how much I love you, I can't let you hurt our Athy," Diana says, her tone hardening.

"You are – who are you?" Claude's features contort in what appears to be anguish.

Diana rolls her eyes. I almost faint. Mom, we should probably be groveling at his feet, not inciting his anger!

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