Being the Demon Lord’s Daughter Is Boring, So I Escape to Become an Adventurer!

The mintiness felt cool as an autumn breeze, and as the stinging pain gradually lifted and faded, a gentle warmth took its place. Had it not been him who mended me, this comfort would have spelled pure bliss.

His hand having risen from my head, I looked up at him, suspicious. He was not supposed to heal me. He was supposed to be mad, so why? I was unable to find an answer.

Damien lowered himself to my height, his face consuming my entire view. “Better?” he asked.

If he were any closer, our noses would touch. I turned away from him, my cheeks flushing from the heat of his. Or maybe the heat was mine, but I couldn’t think properly. I mumbled my response, a bashful yes.

Shifting backward, Damien rose and returned to his seat. I remained still in a daze.

“Abel.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Status on Corsli?”

“Seventy seconds.”

“Camay.”

Damien’s voice rang sharply in my ears, and spontaneously my head jolted upward to him.

“Come,” he said.

As if complementing Damien’s command, Abel pulled out a chair for me at the same table. After I had seated, Damien rested his cheek on a fist and turned away from me, shifting his attention to the garden instead. Time passed silently between us until two seconds before Lydia’s supposed arrival, when his eyes slid to the veranda’s entrance.

“Dame Lydia Corsli has arrived,” Abel announced.

I twisted around on my chair and saw Lydia gracefully stepping onto the backyard porch.

“Ah, Camay!”

The reverberating clacks from her high heels slamming against the marble floor returned me to my senses. Upon reaching me, Lydia dove to her knees, grappled her arms around my waist, and smothered her face against my stomach. I was happy to see her as well, but this was a little overbearing.

“I miffed you so muff!” Her voice was muffled from enfolding me, but I presumed she meant to say I missed you so much.

A chill began filling the space, seeping fear into Lydia. She seemed to be taking the brunt of it, having tumbled to the floor, shivering, but its effects were potent enough to pull my back straight.

I knew who the source was—Damien, of course. He tended to react negatively whenever I was touched, but his flat face obscured any emotion, making it hard to tell. Instead, his aura would do the expressing, currently foreboding Lydia’s immediate banishment if she dared cross him once more.

Lying prone on the marble terrace, she pleaded, “I-I’m sorry. Please stop….”

Any more of this wintry freeze, and Lydia would get frostnip, furthering on to hypothermia. I was no bystander, as my nape had since become gooseflesh.

The chill persisted. Damien had ignored her plea, but I didn’t want this continuing any longer.

I was never one who relished in the agony of others, even back in the castle when my father would harshly punish the maids who had mistreated me. I would close my eyes and cover my ears, but that only dampened the raspy shrieks of pain that leaked through my palms. My father always urged me to watch, his reason being that one day I would sit on his throne, and that a weak heart made a meek ruler. I ignored him every time.

I sprung off my seat and went over to Damien, yanking his cuffs. There was no response, his mind seemingly elsewhere. His eyes flared of a blue blaze, but his pupils were staring vacantly into the void.

I shook his nearest shoulder and called out to him. “Duke Hazel!” But he was too sturdy. Like a butterfly trying to push a boulder, such was an impossible feat. Thankfully, my voice had reached him, and with a single blink, his irises calmed to a shimmering sapphire.

When the iciness dissipated, Lydia lay sprawled on the marble floor, basking in the summer warmth. I thought to comfort Lydia, but afraid the situation would repeat itself, I instead returned to my seat, sighing in relief.

Having regained her composure, Lydia resumed a formal posture, patting her dress to smooth the wrinkles. “My goodness gracious, how unsightly I was. Your Grace is lacking in tolerance today.”

As if she had forgotten her distress just moments ago, Lydia fired a shot at Damien. Bracing myself for an encore, I was surprised when Damien retained his clemency.

“Shall we continue with yesterday’s magic lesson?” Lydia stretched out her hand to me.

“Yes.” I placed my hand onto hers, noticing that her body temperature had already risen back to a normal level. “Are you okay?”

Lydia sensed my real question, how are you okay? and whispered back with a smirk. “Ah, I am wearing protective accessories, like this one.” She retracted her sleeve, revealing a garnet-encrusted bracelet. “It reduces the effects of glacial magic.” With a wink, she pulled her sleeve forward to conceal it once more.

I shouldn’t have worried in the first place. Maybe she noticed my disdainful pout, because she felt the need to reassure me, in strained whisper, “I wasn’t pretending! His magic potency overwhelms my bracelet’s effects, you must believe me!”

I believed her. From the powerful seal in Damien’s office that warded off even me, his magic capacity should not be underestimated. But still, her smirk seemed to imply that she had put on an exaggerated performance. Perhaps the shrieks of the maids back in the castle were also an act meant to rouse pity. I placed such thoughts on the backburner.

We were about to leave the veranda when Lydia suddenly stopped. “Oh, but first, I have a message from Lady Tarotte.”

A message from Miss Tarotte? I had not known that she and Lydia were acquainted.

“Ahem. Lady Tarotte asks, ‘Why in the world am I barred entry?! I am a distinguished tutor! And I was here just yesterday!’” Clearing her voice after impersonating Miss Tarotte, Lydia continued, “As we speak, she remains outside the gates threatening to wreak havoc. I suggest you send someone.”

Um, what? Lydia should’ve started with that when she arrived. Also, wasn’t Miss Tarotte on leave? I stared daggers at Damien with a face that expected an explanation.

Ignoring me, Damien waved his free hand once, and Abel bowed. “Understood. I will handle the matter.”

“Commence the lesson,” Damien said.

That’s it? He had taken me for a fool and brushed me aside when I demanded for his reasoning. It was frustrating, but there was nothing more I could do. Even if I pried him, he would not budge.

Lydia didn’t seem fazed at all. As if every thought of Miss Tarotte had flown out of her mind, she gently tugged on my hand, wanting to step into the backyard together.

I might’ve been skilled in deception, but unfortunately that didn’t mean I was unsusceptible to being deceived.