Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 165

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 165. A Chill Runs Through Me. A Dagger Flies Toward My Heart and Pierces It (3)
After parting ways with Nanakda, the hour had grown late, so I returned home, washed up, and went straight to bed.
After a good rest, when morning broke the next day, Croa arrived at my room with Father, carrying a completed report for us to review.
“Yaaawn.”
“Shall I bring you some water to wash with?”
“Mm.”
I rubbed my sleepy eyes and entrusted myself to Croa’s care. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, Emily dragged me behind a wooden partition to change clothes.
“Nngh, ugh.”
“Why do you seem so drained?”
“I expended a lot of emotional energy yesterday.”
I found emotional exhaustion far more draining than physical fatigue. Assembling radio components seemed like my true calling—so why was I playing Princess? As I grumbled to myself, Croa responded as if it were absurd.
“There’s no one more suited to being a Princess than you, Pisha.”
“There is. Astiages, for instance.”
“That one specializes in political intrigue as a Princess.”
Why did they have such specialized Princess categories over there? A Princess was a Princess—what was this “political intrigue specialization” nonsense? Croa’s comment amused me, and I let out a soft laugh.
“Then what’s my specialization?”
“Why, naturally, you’re a Princess specializing in becoming a wise and virtuous successor.”
“Oh, you flatterer.”
“I’m being sincere.”
Fine, let’s say that’s true. But I can’t become a wise ruler—my divine power would diminish.
“Pfft.”
For recovery, I consumed a Qi-Restoration Pill today, then headed to Father’s Temporary Office. Croa’s report contained nothing problematic, and it aligned with our current understanding of Media’s political situation.
“Don’t eliminate all the pro-Kisomalos faction—they’ll have their uses.”
“Right. Opportunists always have value. When they stop listening, just set their factions against each other once, and everything resolves itself.”
As Father and I shared state management wisdom, Croa listened intently while diligently taking notes.
“Military authority is the best foundation for establishing one’s position.”
“And don’t forget to cultivate a third force that obeys only your commands. You’ve been watching how well I’ve been nurturing Achilles and Edison, haven’t you?”
“Phew, there’s so much to do.”
That’s how it is for all rulers. Why else would they call state management “household management”? It’s always the most grueling work. Planning labor is the most exhausting task there is.
“If we dispatch Kisomalos Forces stationed in Media, there will be fierce resistance.”
“Why not start with importing military supplies? I hear Kisomalos’s military combat aircraft are the world’s strongest?”
“No matter how much of a bargain hunter you are, Pisha, you won’t use that model, right?”
“Of course not. Let’s negotiate hard and drive a proper deal.”
Even if we’re to be married eventually, as long as we each bear responsibility for our nations, such matters must be handled decisively. For the record, I have no intention of yielding to my betrothed either.
“By the way, there’s something I need to discuss with Croa.”
Father broached the subject of something he’d wanted to ask Media about from before. Given Father’s nature, he’d normally ask directly if curious or pry secrets out of people, but this time he seemed unusually passive. When I thought about it, the reason became clear.
A woman resembling Media had imprisoned Kisomalos before my regression. To ask Croa and Media about this, I would need to reveal everything.
“Hmm… mm…”
If I told them, wouldn’t Croa find me deeply uncomfortable? With Father, I’d simply dodged the subject whenever memories from before the regression came up.
As I continued to hesitate, Father stepped forward and grasped my hand firmly.
“Princess Vishnabel.”
“Huh?”
“When I adopted you, it didn’t matter whether you were five years old or twenty-one.”
“Wha—what?!”
Father knew all along?! He knew I retained all my memories from before the regression, yet he treated me like a five-year-old this whole time?!
“In truth, there’s little difference between how one treats a five-year-old and how one treats a twenty-one-year-old.”
“That’s nonsense! Of course there’s a difference!”
“And since you mentioned experiencing the Temporal Regression, you were the one who carelessly announced that you retained all your previous memories—not Pisha.”
“Ugh!”
Oh! Now that I think about it, that’s right! Since the Temporal Regression happened before my regression, he could have easily deduced that I retained my memories from before!
Memories came flooding back—of me rolling around the Imperial Palace, wailing loudly, being carried and held by Father, tears and snot smearing his clothes, sobbing pitifully. But what mortified me most was one particular memory.
[Daddy! Catch the butterfly for meee!]
He must have thought I was an idiot!
My face burned so hot I waved my hands to cool it, and Father grinned wickedly before pinpointing exactly what I was thinking.
“That’s right. I have, all this time, regarded you as an idiot, Princess Pisha.”
“You should have told me that upfront!”
“The Princess never revealed it to me, so I had no obligation to tell you either.”
Wait. Why was Father pouting like that? I had a rough idea—he was sulking because I hadn’t told him directly.
“But that’s… you’d have reservations, wouldn’t you? A twenty-seven-year-old suddenly gaining a daughter with the mental age of twenty-one?”
“In my eyes, the Princess’s mental age has always been five.”
“Shut up!”
I kicked Father’s shin hard, then grabbed my foot and hopped around. His leg was like steel. My foot hurt more.
“There’s no legal issue. As long as one is even a year older, they can adopt someone.”
“That’s not the problem…”
Well, fine. I suppose I was played like a fool in Father’s palm. How much fun he must have had watching me worry and fret alone. He was probably enjoying it all as entertainment. That was so like Father.
“I think Croa will need a more detailed explanation…”
“That remark just now!”
Had Croa grasped the context just from my conversation with Father? I was about to marvel at how brilliant he was, but then he said something utterly stupid.
“So loving Pisha is legal, right?!”
What? Isn’t loving someone always free? It’s something that transcends legality, isn’t it?
“I’m not entirely sure, but you said she was originally twenty-one, right? Older than me! I’m a minor in Media, but I’m a legal adult in Kisomalos! Pisha, being older than me, is also a legal adult! There’s no problem with my feelings! It’s legal! All green!”
“Uh… uh… uh…”
So that’s one way to interpret it. Croa, you really have grown up with such a positive outlook on everything.
“Nanakda’s words had been bothering me. This love I feel for Pisha isn’t the kind that disappears just because I decide to stop loving her. I was wondering if I’d have to endure four more years bearing the stigma of pedophilia.”
Croa, who had been gloomy for a moment, suddenly brightened and grasped my hand.
“It’s legal, it’s legal! I can love Pisha without worry!”
Wait, before you get excited about legality and love, there’s something more important I need to tell you.
I sat Croa down and explained everything from the time I experienced the Temporal Regression. At that time, Kisomalos was imprisoned by someone and couldn’t care for his descendants.
Because of that, Kisomalos declined rapidly, and Helbatro and I were born and sentenced to death. To save the last remaining legitimate heir, Kisomalos sought out a foreign deity and poured out every bit of divine power he had to turn back time.
As I told this story, Croa’s expression turned puzzled and he tilted his head.
“No matter how I think about it, that kidnapper is the root cause of all our troubles.”
“Yeah.”
“So why didn’t you track down that root cause the moment you returned?”
“Uuuugh….”
The truth is, both Kisomalos and I are legendary idiots. Normally, when one person forgets something, the other remembers and reminds them, right? So why is it that the moment we two get together, we’re both complete airheads? I can’t help being a blockhead when my ancestor deity is one, but still—shouldn’t the less blockheaded one of us have at least kept track of it?
“Both Kisomalos and I… forgot about it….”
As I spoke those words with utter dejection, Father reached for a cigarette with a sigh, and Croa wrapped his arms around me with an awkward tenderness.
“It’s alright. Your Highness the Princess being foolish isn’t exactly breaking news.”
“Hey! That’s an insult, you know?!”
“I love Pisha even though she’s foolish.”
“Shut it, you!”
In any case, Croa accepted everything, and we decided to inform Media of the situation and reach out to the Heavenly Realm to seek her assistance.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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