I thought I had something playing in my head after leaving the garden.

Maybe it was the silence, or maybe it was the thought of waiting for the invite that was meant to reach me soon.

From the secret organization this body was a part of.

So, I had been waiting… and thinking about how that invitation would arrive.

And to my confirmation, I was right.

But what I didn't expect...

was to find two of my own students here, in the middle of the night.

My class representatives, no less.

Leor Dawsen.

And the Third Holy Princess, Talia Veloria.

What are these situations, genuinely…

Every time I think I understand the pattern of this world, something new happens to test me.

But what were the two doing here together?

Don't tell me...

...Sometimes I forget the genre and setting of this world.

Especially this academy.

Is Romance Fantasy.

I exhaled slowly, stepping closer, the sound of my shoes echoing across the marble floor of the music room.

They froze where they stood.

Leor's expression was pale.

The princess simply looked calm, though her eyes told another story.

I repeated my words again, tone even but firm.

"What are the two of you doing here?"

They both turned toward me.

"You do know it goes against academy rules to be outside your dorms at this hour, right?"

Leor immediately began explaining himself stammering, his glasses slightly tilted as if even they were nervous.

"P-Professor Noel, we admit our mistake," he said quickly.

"We were about to leave but… the door got shut, sir.

Possibly… someone closed it from the outside."

I looked between the two of them, eyes narrowing slightly.

The princess didn't say a word.

She simply stood there, letting Leor handle the talking for both of them.

I finally spoke.

"Is that so?"

The words came out calm, but I could already tell what this looked like.

Two students alone at night...in a quiet room.

If I were anyone else, I might have thought too much of it.

But I've lived long enough in these kinds of stories to know better.

I sighed quietly.

"The door is open now," I said, pushing it slightly.

"Get back to your dorm rooms.

You won't receive any punishment...however.

...you each get two demerit points for being here past said time."

Neither of them seemed particularly bothered.

If anything, they looked… relieved.

I could tell they'd rather take demerit points than deal with an actual punishment.

And truthfully, I didn't have the heart or the freedom to punish them anyway.

Not when one of them was the princess.

It could backlash on me somehow, no matter how cold or formal I acted.

Besides… I didn't want to interrupt whatever was going on between them.

The plot must be progressing somehow, right?

That's how story-type worlds usually go.

"What about the cat?"

Talia finally spoke.

Her voice was clear, calm, but softer than before.

My gaze followed hers, down to the small shape crouched near her.

A black cat with yellow eyes.

She was touching it gently, her hand brushing behind its ear as it purred faintly.

"The reason we were here..."

She continued, her tone almost hesitant now,

"...is because we have something in common.

We've both been feeding this stray cat that lives around the academy grounds."

I blinked.

So that was it.

Was that really the reason for the two of them being here together?

It did make sense, regardless.

They were both in my classes...

I could easily keep an eye on them either way.

And maybe confirm my theories…

I thought for a moment, then spoke again.

"I'll look after the cat, then.

You two can head back to your dorms."

Leor looked up quickly.

"A-Are you sure, Professor?"

"Yes," I muttered simply.

He seemed surprised but nodded quickly, bowing his head slightly.

"Thank you, Professor."

Talia stood, the faintest shadow of a smile brushing her lips as she picked up the cat.

It meowed softly in her arms, yellow eyes glimmering in the dim light.

Without a word, she turned toward me and extended it carefully.

I reached out and took the cat from her hands, its small body warm and calm against my gloves.

"Goodnight, Professor..."

She said, her tone even as ever.

"Goodnight."

I replied quietly.

The two of them left, their footsteps fading down the corridor, soft and slow.

The faint click of the door closing echoed behind them.

And just like that, I was alone.

I looked down at the cat in my arms, its tail curling lazily.

It blinked up at me, unbothered.

I sighed.

The night had started with me expecting a secret invitation.

Instead, I found myself babysitting a stray cat and a potential slow-burn.

---

༺[Saint Roseblood Estate]༻

A soft drizzle fell against the rose-tinted glass windows of the Roseblood Mansion.

It painted the marble floor in faint shades of silver and pink.

The scent of rain mingled with lavender, drifting through the open window of the study, where the faint crackle of the fireplace filled the silence with its gentle warmth.

Melissa sat near the hearth, her long white hair cascading over her shoulders like silk.

In her lap lay a worn notebook filled with scribbles, formulas, and unfinished potion diagrams.

Her father sat behind her, combing through her hair with slow, careful strokes, the brush gliding through the strands as if he were touching something fragile.

"Your hair's gotten longer."

He said softly.

"I remember when you were little... you used to cry every time I brushed it."

Melissa chuckled lightly, her voice calm and composed as always.

"That's because you used to tug too hard, Father.

You said it built character."

He smiled.

"Did I now?

Then I suppose it worked..

You've become quite the strong young lady."

Melissa's smile softened.

She turned her gaze toward the faint reflection of the two of them in the mirror across the room.

Her father 'Lord Markeen Roseblood' looked almost unchanged despite the years.

His hair had begun to silver at the sides... but his eyes still carried that warmth she had known since childhood.

They stayed like that for a while the brush moving through hair in gentle rhythm.

Then Lord Markeen spoke again, breaking the quiet with his usual calm curiosity.

"How's the academy been treating you, my dear?

Still keeping up with your students and… your research?"

Melissa blinked at her reflection for a moment before answering.

"It's been… steady, I suppose."

She closed her notebook slowly.

"Though I've hit a bit of a wall lately...

My research into mana-induced cell regeneration hasn't been progressing as I hoped."

Lord Markeen hummed thoughtfully, setting the brush down.

"That's medicine for you."

He said.

"Even the most brilliant minds face stagnation.

But I've seen the way you work, Melissa.

I know you'll get through it."

He stood, moving to pour them both a cup of herbal tea from the silver pot resting on the nearby table.

The scent of chamomile filled the air as he handed her a cup.

"Besides..."

He continued, smiling warmly.

"...this year's Career Summit will surely shine a light on your work.

Maybe then, you'll finally get that senior professorship you deserve."

Melissa looked down at the steaming cup in her hands.

The reflection of the flames wavered across her eyes.

She smiled faintly, reaching out to touch his hand.

"You always say that, Father."

"And I'll keep saying it until you believe it."

He replied gently.

Her grip tightened just a little as she spoke.

"Still… thank you, Father...for everything.

I could never..."

But Lord Markeen stopped her by placing his hand over hers.

"Melissa..."

"You don't need to thank me.

You deserve everything you have.

You've worked for it with your own two hands."

He smiled wistfully, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.

"You're my only daughter...the only light left in this house.

I don't ever want you to think there's a day that passes where I don't care, or don't love you."

Her heart ached quietly at his words.

She swallowed, hiding the faint tremor in her voice.

"I know..." she said softly.

"You've done more than enough, Father.

More than anyone could ever ask for."

He chuckled.

"Well, I brought you into this world… though your mother did most of the work," he said, and his eyes crinkled in fond amusement.

"Still, it's my duty to take care of you and to support you however I can."

Melissa laughed lightly, covering her mouth.

"You still remember to make jokes, even now."

"Of course..."

"A father's humor never ages."

For a moment, the room was filled only with the sound of rain and quiet laughter.

But then came a pause ...a subtle shift in air. Markeen's expression softened again, though his eyes now held a touch of hesitation.

"Melissa..."

He began, his tone almost careful.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask…"

She glanced at him curiously.

"What is it?"

He hesitated before speaking again, his voice quieter this time.

"When are you going to get married?"

The question fell like a stone into still water. The laughter died.

The crackle of the fire seemed louder.

Melissa froze, the cup trembling faintly in her hand before she set it down.

There was silence before she finally spoke, her voice almost whispering.

"Why would you ask that, Father?"

Markeen sighed softly, leaning back in his chair.

"Forgive me, my dear.

It was uncalled for...

I suppose I'm just..."

He smiled faintly, though there was guilt in it.

"Since I told you I'd never force you into any engagement, I meant it.

Whoever you choose ...or if you never choose at all I'll still support you.

Whether or not they come from a prestigious house… it doesn't matter to me."

Melissa stared into the fire for a long moment.

The glow reflected in her golden-brown eyes, distant and pained.

"Honestly I don't know..."

She murmured finally.

"I don't think I can… not right now."

Her voice trembled slightly, but she steadied it.

"Love isn't something I can bring myself to look for...

...not anymore."

She leaned back, exhaling softly.

"I think there was a time...

I gave it everything ...my time, my heart, my trust.

But maybe some things aren't meant to last...

And maybe... that's all right."

Markeen listened quietly, his expression softening with every word.

"I suppose..."

Melissa continued.

"...if I'm being honest, I just want to focus on what I can control.

My research, my work, my students.

That's what I have left to give myself to.

Love… love can come later, if it ever does."

Her voice lowered further, barely audible.

"I don't think I could bear to give my heart away only to lose it again."

For a while, her father said nothing.

Then, gently, he reached across the table, taking her hand once more.

"That's all right, my dear"

He said softly.

"You're right, Melissa.

There's no need to rush...focus on your path. The rest will come when it's meant to."

He smiled faintly.

"Just promise me one thing...

..don't lose that light of yours.

I don't want to see you cry every night you locked yourself in your room like before..."

Melissa's eyes glistened for a brief moment before she blinked away the moisture.

She smiled.

"I won't, father...I promise."

"Good.."

He said warmly, though his tone turned teasing again.

"Because if I ever hear you cried again, I'll have to scold whoever made you do it."

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

"You're impossible."

"And yet, still your father...possibly the luckiest in the world"

He replied, feigning pride.

That made her laugh again.

The rain outside softened, the fire burned steady, and for a moment, the mansion didn't feel as big or as lonely.

Markeen leaned back with a sigh.

"You know..."

He said with a smirk.

"...when I was your age, I was already courting your mother.

Maybe I should give you her old tricks."

Melissa nearly choked on her tea, bursting into laughter.

"Please don't!

You'll make me lose what's left of my dignity, Father."

He grinned.

"Ah, then I've succeeded... a little laughter before bed never hurts."

They both laughed again.

Love ... the kind only a father and daughter could share.

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