4 Father's Stories

I wasn't wrong. Father did come.

"My daughter..." my father spoke, breaking the awkward silence.

We were seated facing each other in one of our gardens. A tea set faced my front, a fountain with a statue of a mermaid holding a water jug on its shoulders decorated my right and roses, crysanthemums, orchids and different types of other flowers I don't recognize lined my left.

It was a very pleasant atmosphere for two people to mingle about. But my father and I were no ordinary people. I did not know when it happened but it seems our relationship never did  went beyond just being blood-related. We seldom talked unless in this type of sitations. We didn't see each other because he was always out and about. He left my expenses with me, to the house butler or to Rachel, the brown-haired girl who attends to me.

"Are you going to tell me a story?"

I had left Laticca in my room. I don't want him to witness the absurd relationship I had with my father. But if the Laticca I know is also the Laticca who was a normal cat, then he should have already known.

"Yes." My father folded his hands on the desk as I reached for my cup of tea. Hmmm. Chamomile.

I nodded giving my father my permission. Father always thought that I am a docile, easily used child. We're not close so there was no reason for me to act sweet.

We share the same black hair, a trait exclusive to the Silverias, but that's all. Everything that I am was from my mother. We are strangers who happened to live next to each other, never minding each other's businessess. And just like neighbors who only visits you when they needed something from you.

My father held his cup with both hands and opened his mouth.

"A man has fields and fields of fertile lands but he is unable to farm due to the bandits who steals his crops all year long. His workers and servants even die in some instances. One day, he met a merchant who said that he could sell him anything. The man asked the merchant, 'can you sell me something that wards off bandits all year long?' What do you think should the merchant do?”

Silence reigned between us as father clamped his mouth shut. I sipped on my tea and stared at it for a moment.

"Does this man live in the West Region?"

I felt my father stiffened from my question. I always gave him direct answers from his stories. I know full well that they are not mere stories.

"Yes." Father said, his brows furrowed as he stared at his 12 year old daughter. He had been asking her these strange stories for four years now. She never asked him where this stories came. She just listened, gave her opinion and moved on.

If father does change, what does it matter. I am still someone who he can never accept willingly. I doubted at first if I was his daughter or not, but black hair is not something you found anywhere. Father was an only child and we are the only living Silverias there is.

I wonder, what would have happened if father were a little attentive of me. What would have happend if he just looked at me warmly with a smile on his face. What would have happened if father treats me like his daughter. I wonder, will father change?

.....

It started one day when I was jokingly asked by father's aide about an irrigation problem.

"Every farmer wants water for their crops but there is only one waterway. If one uses water, the others cannot. They often fight over the use of water. Some had died and some had allegedly murdered. What do you think should they do."

I was eight years old at that time. It sounded like a problem in a book. It was easy actually, if you just put your mind into it.

"Why not take turns?" I answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Put someone to lead them, create an organization, schedule the distribution of water to a certain number of hectares per day."

The look on the face of father's aide was a real sight for sore eyes. His stunned look and gaping mouth hung open.

Since then, father personally came to me to tell me stories and ask questions in the end. It was two years ago that I realized that those stories were actually the very problems our kingdom actually faced. Serving directly under the imperial family only meant that those are problems made by royal orders. Orders that must be solved no matter what.

It was no wonder that our house rose in influence in just a matter of 3 years. Father who was referred to as a wise and knowledgable man who led the kingdom to great progress. His innovative ideas and efficient methods had saved the empire. Not knowing that these ideas were stolen from his very own daughter.

I felt cheated. My contributions were erased and father hoarded all the glory.

Since we answer directly to the Imperial family due to an ancient order, despite only being a viscount household, in the eyes of the citizens, Silveria is as prominent as any ducal house. It is a good thing for me because I need influence. But because of our unique situation we are scorned in the noble society.

Nobles. We are cruel and vicious wolves that walks on two legs. But I refused to be a wolf, I'd rather be a lion who takes it all.

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