My daughter was a very clever child.

She was quick to speak and was curious about everything. She was shy when she was little, but that gradually disappeared after she started interacting with people outside of her family… Her fiancé, the crown prince.

Still, I was surprised when I saw that shy girl laughing boisterously while riding on the crown prince’s back.

“Your Majesty… I feel like I just caught a glimpse of their future.”

“Well, there’s a saying that goes a man is happiest being at a woman mercy.”

I recalled that conversation I once had with the king, who was my cousin and close friend.

The wry smile he gave me back then… It was a look of resignation. He was probably at the mercy of his wife, as well. He probably thought that apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Although, I shared none of those traits.

…I was getting sidetracked.

Even before my daughter was born, it had already been decided that she would become queen.

It was the result of my forcefully marrying the Foreign Beauty, a princess from another country. As a result, my daughter had to suffer the brunt. Had only she been born a boy, then it would have… No, that would be blasphemy against God, and above all, against her.

The inconvenience of not being able to marry the one you loved… In exchange for marrying the one I loved, my daughter couldn’t marry for love. At that time, I, whose sole intention was to marry my wife, didn’t even think that far ahead.

I never once believed I had compensated for that, but I thought I had taken good care of my daughter in my own way.

There were times when I had to be away from home due to work, but other than that, I tried to take care of my daughter myself as much as possible. My wife was a woman with good manners, so I relied on to act as a caretaker, and she gave the impression that she’d be able to balance her responsibilities as a duchess and as a mother, but…

I believe I was the first to realize it…

At night, while I was sleeping in my bedroom, the door was opened without a knock.

Was it Rufus?

My daughter had long since started refusing to sleep with her parents, but Rufus was only three years old and was in the prime of his youth.

As she was only six years old, she sometimes come holding a pillow saying, ‘I had a scary dream…’

Could her father’s ego have caused her to have such a dream?

…Nevertheless, it was rare for Rufus to enter without knocking. Or did I just not notice it? Did he wet the bed and was now too ashamed to admit what happened?

Anyway, I pretended to be asleep for a while to see what he was up to.

He… no, she came to the side of my bed and slowly reached out to me.

And then—

—Snap!

“…!”

I stifled my voice at the last minute. Immediately, she left the room, careful not to make a sound as she closed the door.

“Dear, what happened…?”

My wife, who was asleep next to me, drowsily rubbed her eyes.

I gently caressed my wife’s hand and said, “It’s nothing.”

I must’ve been mistaken.

To think that such a fine child, who had begun accustoming to being a princess, would come pluck her father’s hair—such a thing had to be a dream.

However, it became a weekly event.

Actually, it happened every night she received the queen education straight from the queen.

“How are your lessons from Her Majesty?”

One day, I asked my daughter at dinner.

Then, she wiped her mouth with a napkin with grace that belied a six-year-old, before smiling at me.

“They’re quite a profound time.”

…You’re six and yet you already know the word ‘profound’?

Usually, a six-years-old would’ve said, ‘They’re fun.’ ...If she really enjoyed it, anyway.

Roughly speaking, I was also getting reports as to the contents of her class and her performance.

For the most part, everything seemed to be going well.

Although she needed to be disciplined quite a bit, the queen seemed to have a good evaluation of her. Apparently, her embroidery hadn’t improved at all, but I pretended not to notice. Embroidery was certainly a form of interaction between ladies, but I wouldn’t want her to hate everything else just because of that one, single thing.

At the same time, the queen appeared to be strictly advising to not let her manners and lack of knowledge be a reason for others to look down on her. The queen also said that she was still young. She would run around the royal castle with Zafield whenever she had the opportunity. As long as she didn’t break any of her belongings, the queen tolerated it. However, she broke one of the queen’s pots today.

Pretending to be oblivious, I responded to her smile.

“I see. But if you have any difficulties, you can always come to me for advice. We’re always on Lelouche’s side.”

“Thank you, Father.”

But that night as well, she came to pluck my hair, just like every other night.

As expected, it wasn’t a figment of my imagination, and even my wife realized it.

After the door slammed shut, she rolled over to face me.

“Dear, are you just going to remain silent…”

“…If going bald means that she will smile forever, I’m fine with that.”

Gradually, I began to develop a tolerance for pain.

She wasn’t bothering anyone. If the thrill of sneaking into her parents’ bedroom at night for a bit of mischief could keep her content, then I didn’t care.

“Hehehe, your hair sure has been getting thinner recently, hasn’t it?”

…But, my dear wife, please don’t say that.

…Next time, let’s consult with the king about hair tonic.

Well, those pranks ended with her debut in the social world.

Six years. Not that long. My daughter’s cute, the battle between the weekly pranks and the hair tonic of the former king (he still didn’t need to use any, damn it!) finally came to an end when not a single strand of my hair was left.

Truly, what an honorable battle it was.

On her thirteenth birthday, she finally made her debut at a party, and she was a beautiful young lady even without the doting of her parents.

When I went to tell her that, she only giggled.

“My father’s head has become clearer now, hasn’t it?”

“…Do you dislike your bald father?”

I was both impressed and saddened by the fact that she had finally begun to speak sarcastically like a typical lady would.

Then, she spoke with a hearty smile.

“No, I think you’re much more attractive than someone with half-grown hair!”

I had been her father for thirteen years. I could easily tell whether she was just being nice or sincere.

Hence why when I saw how bright her smile was that day, a possibility crossed my mind.

—Did she pluck out my hair out of her own good intentions?

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***T/N: Guys, HELP. My knees… My knees are going weak. I’m on the floor, ROFLMAO WHAT THE EF IS THIS CHAPTEr?!?!?!?!

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