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Watching her own father walk into the grand mansion holding an umbrella, Margaret smiled and offered the proper respect to her father and the king of this kingdom, standing at the doorway.

After handing over the umbrella to her attendant behind her, His Majesty took off his cloak: "Margaret, I saw Colin today at the northern ruins."

"You two had drinks again?" As a woman, Margaret instantly focused on the critical detail that her father had not ntioned in his entire sentence.

"A man should indeed drink," the middle-aged man said with a hearty laugh, then glanced at Margaret: "Where’s your sister Faye?"

"She’s at her classmate’s house playing." Margaret smiled as she took her father’s cloak and hung it on the rack by the annex door—avoiding extravagance and waste was a family teaching of the Mowish family; back before becoming king, the Mowish family was just a duke in the south.

They had no such unrealistic troubles.

"Male or female." Similarly, as a mber of the Mowish family, this father also imdiately focused on the critical detail that his daughter had not ntioned in her entire sentence.

"A boy." Margaret wasn’t selling out her sister; rather, there were so things that her father needed to be inford about, and it was better to be honest from the start than to deceive even for a mont.

"...You two sisters really do not put , your father, in your eyes." The middle-aged man’s eyes went wide.

"After all, we are the children of our mother and you, Father." Margaret didn’t back down; their mother had not taken her father’s words as commandnts, instead choosing this man who was the fourth prince at the ti.

So people do not aim high, but that doesn’t an they’re not lucky, and vice versa.

This comnt made the middle-aged man’s displeasure vanish like smoke, and he shook his head: "Then tell , which boy is it? If I am not mistaken, among the various nobles of Carterburg, there seems to be no suitable boy for Faye."

"Not them, it’s Malin, Malin Gaiate, an apprentice of the Church of the Goddess of Harvest, Faye’s classmate." Margaret said, smiling triumphantly after once again winning in a confrontation with her father.

"Malin Gaiate... my old Lev, have I heard this na before?" Her father turned his head to look at his old butler.

"This afternoon, young master Colin ntioned it; he said that he couldn’t return to the city from that ruin because his tutor wanted his younger apprentice, young master Malin, to get a taste of blood." The old butler had elfin blood, so he did not look as old as his lord’s words might suggest; he answered with a smile, standing by the door.

"Ah, right..." At this, the father frowned: "No, that’s not right, why have both my daughters picked a child from the Church of the Goddess of Harvest? I think it’s ti to change churches for your sister."

"The Church of the War God would be best avoided." Margaret said with a laugh.

"What do you an?" Her father was a bit puzzled.

Therefore, as a daughter, Margaret told her father all about what had happened that afternoon in full detail.

When her father heard about her new son-in-law single-handedly fighting against a zombies bride transford from Duke Domingo’s daughter, and even won decisively, His Majesty couldn’t help but exclaim, "Is this child truly a level ten?"

"He just beca an apprentice six months ago."

"To have learned first to third level Spell Formations in half a year, where did this monster co from?" Margaret’s father scratched his head: "By the way, my daughter... might there be many competitors?"

If this father had previously been concerned about his daughter getting it wrong, now he wondered if his daughter... might have opponents lined up all the way to the Imperial Capital.

It would surely be a bloody and brutal contest, only that at first, the old father of the Mowish family had mistaken who was the hunter and who was the prey.

"Just a few bad eggs; the only slight trouble is that Mr. Gaiate also has an adopted sister, that little leopard is quite favored."

"That’s not a problem; in a few years, I’ll find an opportunity to be a matchmaker for that little girl."

The head of the Mowish family was clear about this, but evidently his daughter did not wish to do so. As a cheerful "I’m back!" attracted the father and daughter’s attention to the main entrance.

Faye was putting away her umbrella, she shook her head looking at her father: "Father, I get along very well with Maya, and I believe that having one more friend ans one more path. There’s no need to exterminate every potential friend who might be an opponent. Besides, I think if I strike at Maya, I wouldn’t be any different from those bad eggs in Malin’s eyes."

"My daughter, you’re the best!" Her elder father held his heart with both hands.

"Because we’re the best, Maya now listens to , and those bad eggs who have been utterly defeated by us have even less hope. This battle, I control it completely; Father, please don’t co and make trouble for ."

```

"Why share with other girls, my daughter, when you can have soone all to yourself?" As a father, His Majesty truly didn’t want his daughter to be a sharer in matters of the heart.

Removing her coat and now in the center of the hall, Faye turned her head to look at her father, "Father, that’s why Margaret and I are children born to mother and you, while our older sisters are children born to mom and you. Although reborn equal, sotis you must admit that there are differences between people, and sotis these differences are so great that you can’t help but acknowledge them. Think about our sisters’ lives. I feel that being able to choose a path I like for my fate is sothing I’m very proud and arrogant about. Today, he was able to kill a zombie bride! Throughout the entire Mowish family’s territory, on the map of the Sydney Union, can you find another one?"

Her father fell silent for a while, eventually having to shake his head to indicate he was indeed powerless.

"You’re right, my daughter. Since that’s the case, you should take control of your own life. But rember your surna, and never forget the dignity a lady should possess."

"At least I won’t die like that daughter of the Domingo family." Faye emotionlessly rolled up her sleeves, revealing a delicate silver-tempered dagger, "Silvered steel dagger, every lady should need one to maintain the last bit of necessary dignity as a human."

As an older father, the middle-aged man turned to look at his elderly butler, "I don’t recall ever having such a family motto."

"Now we do, master," the old butler clearly did not wish to join the discussion of dostic affairs with his master.

So the older man turned back and looked at his daughter, "But promise , my daughter, never give up lightly."

"Of course, Father. In my dreams, there has always been a prince on a white horse, but now I find horse-riding to be entirely lacking in taste. Perhaps a small steam-engine car is better suited for my prince," Faye said, with a hint of irony that left the old man perplexed, once again looking to his other daughter for help.

"Malin is a bit short in stature, probably a genetic effect. Looks rather young for her age." At this mont, standing up as an inford young female historian, Margaret inford her father of this fact.

Her father took a sharp breath, the look he gave his daughter now lacking so affection, "My daughter, perhaps I should discuss this with your mother."

"Sister, look what you’ve done," Faye glared at her own sister.

"Honesty is a virtue, my sister. You may not believe it, but you must at least revere it, for many people hold it in unquestionable faith," Margaret said with a smile, then lifted her skirt slightly to her elderly father, "Father, please excuse , I need to return to my room to rest."

Then the sister and daughter left the hall with a smile.

Left alone, Faye and her father stared at each other until her father, unable to withstand the pressure – among his two daughters, the eldest resembled him, being smooth yet persistent; the younger resembled her mother, persistent yet stubborn.

When she was very young, she fled the Capital because she said she disliked the looks she received from n, as if they were appraising rchandise.

"My dear daughter, won’t you go to rest?"

"Mm, Father, then I will take my leave." Deciding to end the zero-sum ga of stares, her younger daughter perford a mage’s bow and then strode to her room.

Watching his daughter disappear into the depths of the corridor, the old man of the Mowish family turned to his old butler, "Could you find a private detective tomorrow to investigate a certain Mr. Malin Gaiate?"

While he wasn’t as furious as when his daughter Margaret ntioned having a boyfriend nad Colin, as a father, he felt it necessary to understand so matters.

"No problem, Your Majesty. And if there’s an issue uncovered?"

"With Carterburg’s vast lands, there’s always a place suitable for his residence." He said, then the old father smiled, "Do it nicely, I don’t want to be hunted by my daughter for a lifeti."

"Your Majesty, if you don’t want to be hunted by your daughter, why not abandon the investigation?" The old butler felt his master had beco more problematic lately, his life more contradictory as he approached his twilight years.

"Because I am first and foremost a father, then a monarch, you know, old Lev. They are my and Lina’s most cherished daughters; we don’t even have a son. They are my treasures, you see. I don’t want my pearls to gather dust, nor do I want my daughters blinded by lies. If he’s a little trickster, help ..." The words that followed had no verbal emphasis but the old father gently and firmly drew a line across his neck with the index finger of his left hand.

"No problem, master. Please trust a vow made to you by an elf," the old elf replied with a smile.

"You have my confidence, old Lev. Rember, this is our secret among n. Don’t tell my ladies, and definitely don’t tell my daughters."

"You are my master, but they are not," the elf narrowed his eyes.

"That’s why I have such trust in you, old Lev. Rember, tomorrow morning." After speaking, the old patriarch of the Mowish family decided to return to his room to rest.

"Sleeping so early, Your Majesty? Won’t you play a few card gas with the local nobles?"

"You know, old Lev, there’s a king, whose wives are busy and won’t return today, and the rain is falling so heavily," said the King, pointing towards the torrential rain outside the window: "My sons are all at the front lines or in the Capital, my daughters are either married or preparing to marry, it’s so pitiful for an empty-nester, and my wives’ strict control even deprives him of a nightlife, so what else is there to play with? I’m going to sleep, do not disturb for no reason."

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