Chapter 262: Pink Bow

"You used your vast, terrifying intellect to orchestrate a theatrical performance that resulted in my Chief Aide crab-walking through my office to protect his virtue. My dignity is in ruins. Therefore, your sugar supply is in ruins."

"I am innocent!" Seraphina lied flawlessly, widening her eyes, deploying the ultimate puppy-dog defense. "I don’t know what you are talking about! I am just a six-year-old child! I was playing with my ducks! Professor Roan is the one who took his shirt off!"

"Do not insult my intelligence, Mushroom," Kaelus chuckled darkly. "Roan possesses the self-preservation instincts of a suicidal moth, but he lacks the political nuance to weaponize Valerius’s specific prejudices. You wrote the script. You directed the play. You are the mastermind."

Seraphina’s lower lip began to wobble.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing a glistening pool of tears to form.

"You are starving me!" Seraphina wailed, throwing her head back, executing a flawless, heart-wrenching sob. "I am going to wither away! My brain needs glucose! I am just a tiny, fragile little girl who saved you from a mean stepmother!"

Usually, the tears were the ultimate trump card.

Usually, the moment she cried, Kaelus would panic, drop everything, and immediately surrender to her demands.

But Kaelus had evolved.

He had spent weeks studying his daughter. He recognized the tactical deployment of her tear ducts.

Kaelus didn’t panic.

He stood up from his desk. He walked around the mahogany wood, and dropped to one knee right in front of her.

Seraphina peeked through her fingers, expecting him to hand her a hidden stash of chocolate.

Instead, Kaelus reached out with both of his large, black-gloved hands.

He didn’t hug her.

He placed his hands on either side of her face. And with slow, incredibly affectionate force, he squished her cheeks together.

Seraphina let out a muffled, highly undignified "Mmph!" as her cheeks were pushed forward, squishing her lips into a prominent, ridiculous fish-pout.

"You are an evil, manipulative, terrifyingly brilliant little mastermind," Kaelus murmured fondly, his violet eyes glowing with absolute adoration as he continued to gently, firmly knead her soft cheeks like dough. "But you are also, undeniably, my daughter. And your cheeks are soft. Therefore, you must suffer."

"Pah-pah, stahp!" Seraphina mumbled, trying to swat his massive hands away, but her tiny arms were completely ineffective against the warlord.

Kaelus merely chuckled, squishing her cheeks upward, making her eyes crinkle. "No sugar for two days, Seraphina. It is the price of treason. You may have the mind of a syndicate boss, but you currently possess the face of a highly aggravated hamster. It is a severe tactical disadvantage."

Seraphina glared at him, her dark eyes promising swift, brutal retribution via the Duck Service Squad.

But as Kaelus continued to squish her face, a strange, traitorous feeling began to bubble up in her chest.

She was a reincarnated adult.

She had run an orphanage.

She was managing an espionage ring.

But right now, having her cheeks squished by this terrifying, loving, ridiculous man... it felt incredibly, wonderfully safe.

It was annoying, yes, but it was the kind of annoying that only a real parent could inflict. It was the physical manifestation of being unconditionally loved, regardless of her terrifying intellect.

Her scowl softened.

The fake tears vanished.

She let out a resigned, muffled little sigh, slumping her shoulders, allowing the Archduke to squish her face to his heart’s content.

"Fine," Seraphina mumbled through her squished lips. "Only for Two days. But when the famine is over, I am eating an entire cake. And you are paying for it."

"I will buy the bakery," Kaelus promised, pressing a heavy kiss to her squished forehead, his heart incredibly full.

***

The two-day dessert ban was merely the beginning of Kaelus’s retaliation.

The Archduke of the North had realized a fundamental truth: his daughter was spending too much time plotting with the tutor, organizing her ducks, and acting like an adult.

Kaelus decided that if she wanted to play games, he would deploy his own ultimate weapon.

Forced Father-Daughter Fluff.

It was a campaign of absolute adorableness designed specifically to reassert his dominance as the primary figure in her life and to thoroughly embarrass her soul.

It began the very next morning.

Seraphina woke up, expecting her usual, sleek, practical dresses, the ones lined with silk, designed for comfort and stealth.

Instead, laid out on her bed was a monstrosity of Southern fashion.

It was a dress of pale, pastel lavender.

It possessed three separate layers of tulle ruffles. The sleeves were like big, puffy clouds. And worst of all, it came with a giant, floppy, obscenely large purple bow designed to be pinned directly to the back of her head.

Seraphina stared at the dress.

’He didn’t,’ Seraphina thought, absolute horror gripping her soul. ’He actively rejected these dresses from the tailors! He said they were sniper targets! He kept one. He kept a ruffled nightmare like that... just to punish me!’

The door opened.

Kaelus stepped in, leaning against the doorframe, a dark, victorious smirk on his face.

"Good morning, little Mushroom," Kaelus drawled. "Dress up quickly. We have a very busy schedule today. We are going to spend some quality time together."

Seraphina was forced into the ruffles.

For the rest of the day, Kaelus dragged her through the estate, parading her like a highly decorated, incredibly grumpy prize poodle.

When Alistair came to deliver the morning post, Kaelus did not let Seraphina sit at her own desk. He scooped her up, deposited her directly onto his lap, and forced her to sit there while he read the mail.

"Papa, I have to go check the perimeter with the ducks," Seraphina complained, trying to squirm off his thigh, the giant purple bow bobbing ridiculously on her head.

Kaelus simply wrapped his arm around her waist, locking her in place.

He didn’t use force, but used the ultimate guilt trip.

"You wish to leave me?" Kaelus murmured, lowering his voice, his violet eyes adopting an expression of theatrical sadness. "After I worked so hard to secure this time for us? Do you no longer enjoy the company of your father? Has the academic stolen your affections entirely?"

Seraphina froze.

Her adult mind was screaming: ’IT’S A TRAP! HE IS MANIPULATING YOU! EJECT! EJECT!’

But her six-year-old body, combined with her genuine, crippling weakness for his sad eyes, completely betrayed her. She looked at his face.

She couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t leave him when he looked like a kicked puppy, even if she knew he was faking it.

"I love you, Papa," Seraphina sighed, slumping back against his chest, defeated.

"I know," Kaelus smirked, resting his chin on the giant purple bow, turning back to his ledgers with absolute triumph.

The Vanguard knights were thoroughly, unapologetically entertained.

When Kaelus carried the heavily ruffled, intensely pouting Seraphina through the courtyard, Sir Boris had to physically bite down on his own gauntlet to stop from laughing.

"The Sovereign looks very... fluffy today, Your Grace," Sir Lucas noted, his scarred face twitching violently as he guarded the gates.

"She is embracing her youth, Lucas," Kaelus replied smoothly, adjusting his grip on her. "She requested the bow. She said it makes her feel aerodynamic."

"I did not," Seraphina grumbled, her cheeks burning. "I look like a lavender cupcake."

"A very lethal cupcake," Kaelus corrected affectionately, kissing her cheek.

The forced fluff was exhausting, humiliating, and incredibly restrictive to her espionage operations.

But deep down, buried beneath the annoyance, Seraphina secretly loved it.

She loved the fact that this terrifying, blood-soaked warlord was willing to waste his entire day carrying her around, squishing her cheeks, and dressing her up just because he wanted to spend time with her.

It was the childhood she had never had in her past life. It was warm, it was safe, and it was entirely hers.

****

The rumors of the Archduke’s ’scandalous’ preferences had successfully deterred the marriage proposals, but it had an unintended side effect.

The minor nobles of the Capital, no longer terrified of being forced into a political marriage with the Reaper, suddenly decided that the Archduke was ’approachable.’ They assumed his terrifying persona was merely a front for his ’artistic, sensitive’ soul.

They began to visit often.

They came under the guise of paying respects to the new Heir, bearing gifts, and attempting to curry favor with the Northern Vanguard.