Page 65 of The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

In the dark office...

Histania Rowen was lost in deep thoughts, running his hand through his hair.

“How annoying...”

Hanna’s rebellion was one thing.

The presumptuous redhead guy was another.

No one seemed to affirm that his decisions were right.

Although Rowen had never once thought his parenting method was wrong as he raised his three children...

This time, Rowen found himself tangled in unusually complex thoughts.

“Ha...”

Sitting at his office desk, Rowen poured liquor into an empty glass and sighed deeply.

His mind was heavy with thoughts.

Wondering whether his focus on the sword alone had made him lacking as a father.

He thought he had tried hard enough...

Yet, whenever the wounded face of his youngest daughter came to mind, he couldn’t help but think that there might be something wrong with his parenting.

He was frustrated with Hanna for not following the path he thought best for her.

If she would just give up the sword, he could give her anything.

Support for a business.

Connections for a political career.

Even an introduction to the finest gentlemen of the empire. But Hanna only looked to the ‘sword.’

Rowen asked himself a question.

‘Am I really a good father?’

Malik, successful as a swordsman.

The second child, who hadn’t missed being the top of his class for three years running due to his outstanding talent.

Looking at these two, he felt there was nothing lacking in him as a successful father.

But Hanna...

She achieved everything N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t on her own.

Until she attended the Royal Academy, Hanna’s talent paled in comparison to Malik and the second child’s.

Even if he could go back in time, he would have told Hanna the same, to give up the sword.

Hanna’s swordsmanship was stagnant.

No matter how much she struggled, the realm she could reach was only that of a third-rate adventurer.

Rowen believed that as a parent, it was wrong to encourage Hanna to pursue a career he thought would be unsuccessful, given that sheer willpower was the only talent she had.

Because his own father was just like that.

His father had made it possible for him to become the Empire’s Sword he was today.

Rowen thought that his father, who had raised him with strict and unfeeling education, would have said the same thing to Hanna.

His father, who had always been harsh, uttering cruel words and showing favoritism.

Though Rowen himself had resented his father for his harshness, as he became an adult and saw the success of his siblings and the course of his own life, he recognized that his father had not been wrong.

Knowing about the unnecessary efforts of his siblings, who grew up under a sword-obsessed father, Rowen felt he had to be cold to Hanna.

Because sure success leads to happiness, not half-baked victory.

For the success of Malik.

For the glory of Histania.

Rowen firmly believed that he had been harsh for Hanna to quickly find her own path.

The same Rowen who had beaten his brother in the training ground, the one who had comforted him when he was scolded and depressed, and he had agreed with his father’s decision to expel his younger brother from the family for lacking talent in the sword.

So Rowen thought he was not wrong in his past decision to ask Hanna to give up the sword.

He had been raised that way.

He had been taught that way by his father.

Of course, he didn’t have a good opinion of his father.

Who had disregarded family and only shouted ‘Sword. Sword.’ A rogue.

Although he had pledged not to become like his father since taking over the family headship, now that he held the title himself, he found himself walking the same path.

While his father would disown anyone without talent, Rowen, though perhaps not as harsh, was not significantly different in his teaching methods when looked at closely.

“I hated it back then, and now, I find myself doing the exact same thing.”

Madman. I am, too.

Unlike his father, Rowen believed he had raised his children with warmth and affection.

Instead of cutting off all support as his father had for those with no talent, he suggested different directions for his children.

He advised them to study finance to become secretaries.

Or to learn diplomacy to become diplomats.

Or to get into politics to secure high positions.

Even if he hadn’t spoken gently, Rowen didn’t think he had made the wrong choices as a father.

Guiding children to the path of rightful success is a parent’s duty and desire.

It’s just that perhaps the methods were a bit too extreme.

-Dad, I’m going to be a great swordsman like you! I’ll take down the bad guys and spread the name of Histania across the world.

-Give it up. You lack talent. You’ll only tarnish the name of Histania.

-But... if I work hard...!

-Hard work cannot beat talent. The only reason effort leads to success is that mediocre people occupy the top positions.

-...But.

-Don’t scrape the bottom. Become the best in another field. Don’t bring shame to the name of Histania.

Rowen didn’t think himself wrong.

He was raised old-fashioned.

His life proved it.

To criticize him, one had to hold a status and achievements of similar calibre for it to be effective.

To him, the words of a philosopher with admirable convictions yet no achievements seemed nothing more than bluster.

But then...

-Father...

After the vision of his daughter’s death...

Cracks began to form in Rowen’s heart.

Holding Hanna’s lifeless, cold body, unable to utter a word, Rowen felt an indescribable depth of regret.

He had thought the feeling of regret was useless...

But now, for the first time, it struck him with terrifying force.

-Bang...!

Rowen roughly set the broken glass down on the desk.

The glass shattered in his hand.

Carefully wiping the fragments with a handkerchief, Rowen maintained the pristine condition of his Swordmaster’s hands.

“Hanna’s adolescence has been too long... I should have been harsher.”

Even now, Rowen wished Hanna would give up the sword.

No matter how young she had been when she awakened her aura.

He thought Hanna would take on dangerous challenges.

He could no longer find fault with Hanna’s talent. She had proven him wrong, unable to see that talent, and was now illuminating the name of Histania within the empire.

But...

-Please save me...

The more the vision came to mind, the stronger his resolve to make Hanna let go of the sword.

So many thoughts entered his mind.

After seeing the illusion...

He felt both the urge to prevent any more reckless challenges and the altruistic notion that, as a father, he should support his daughter’s growth.

Whichever way he considered it...

Seeing Hanna’s death consumed his mind with fear, and he concluded that he must make her let go of the sword.

Because that was the path for Hanna.

For the sake of her safety.

Whether it was an illusion or a nightmare...

If he could just prevent such a thing from happening...

He just needed to push forward with his own stubbornness.

Since Hanna would undoubtedly continue to charge ahead with youthful vigor.

She would rush towards danger for rapid growth, and eventually re-enact the nightmare Rowen saw, he was sure of it.

That’s why... he steeled his heart even more firmly.

Rowen loved Hanna.

He might have not attended her as much as he did his other children, noticing her deficiencies and shortcomings, but he was not a callous parent who would wish death upon his child.

Sitting at his desk and pondering, Rowen nodded awkwardly.

“Yes, it’s all for Hanna’s sake. She will understand when the time comes.”

Just as he had when he became an adult.

Rowen believed Hanna would also realize this once she grew up.

With all the turmoil recently at the Royal Academy, now might be the prime opportunity.

Rather than continuing to agonize...

In the midst of negotiating with himself...

-Creak.

A handsome man opened the door and walked into the office.

Rowen’s son Malik, with the same brown hair as Rowen, Hanna’s older brother.

Rowen frowned and spoke.

“Who taught you to enter without knocking... I certainly didn’t teach you that.”

Malik, entering the room, gave an awkward smile and said.

“I’m sorry. I knocked but... I didn’t realize you hadn’t heard.”

Rowen acknowledged his own mistake.

“I must not have heard it while concentrating on my work. My apologies.”

“It’s alright. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Malik’s face was stiff.

Visiting his father was uncomfortable.

And having a private audience was not something he was accustomed to. Rowen knew this, so he said nothing more.

Malik exhaled a deep sigh and showed the bottle of liquor he was holding.

“Father, I’ve brought some fine liquor. Do you have a moment to share it with me?”

It was familiar liquor.

Golden brandy.

A glass bottle crafted with fine details.

A label often mentioned among nobles, a brand from a very famous restaurant that Rowen remembered, ‘The Forest’s Friend.’

Rowen was secretly pleased with the gift from his son.

Malik pulled up a chair and sat naturally in front of Rowen.