Chapter 128: Christine Alger De Lumenia

"Meralda"

"Yes master?"

"Take care of them while I'm away..... Ana might wake up earlier than the others so just tell her that I've got an appointment to make if she wonders why I'm gone"

"Ok" Meralda affirmed with a yawn, her drowsiness palpable as she settled back into her couch.

'Seriously, this oh-so-great spirit of mine really loves her sleep'

'But considering all the things she did for me, I guess she kinda deserves this much leniency'

With a final glance at the peacefully slumbering girls, Adrian turned to leave.

"Oh, and here," I said, my voice carrying a softness that matched the gesture, as I threw a green-looking stone toward Meralda.

"Master, this is..." Meralda began, her words trailing off as she grasped the significance of the stone in her hands. It was a spirit stone meticulously crafted for nature-type spirits like her. Possessing this stone meant that anyone could now form a proper contract with Meralda, allowing her to bestow blessings or enact her will upon them.

I had been meaning to give her this token for a while, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had evolved between us. Despite our initial clash, our relationship had grown, prompting me to end the forced contract and grant her the freedom to choose another master.

Darkness swirled around my hands, and the ethereal chains binding her heart to me shattered like fragile glass. Her eyes widened at the sudden severance of our connection, and it seemed that the weight lifted from her brought a surge of happiness.

'Hehe, she must be quite happy right now'

"You can tell Louise to make a contract with you later. I'm sure she—"

"What are you talking about, Master!" Meralda interrupted, her voice edged with a mix of anger and distress. Tears welled up in her eyes, adding an unexpected emotional depth to the moment. The abruptness of her reaction caught me off guard, and I paused, unsure of the sentiments that lay beneath her fervent outburst.

"L-like I said, you can make a contract—" I began, attempting to clarify my intentions.

"Why?" Meralda interjected, her tear-streaked cheeks revealing a vulnerability that cut through the anger. "Do you not need me anymore..." The spirit stone, once a symbol of potential freedom, now lay shattered on the ground, mirroring the fragments of her emotions.

"After all this time! After all the things we did, after all the things you made me do, after all those things, are you trying to abandon me, Master?" Her words, charged with anger and hurt, reverberated in the room.

"Calm down, Meralda... I'm not trying to abandon you. I'm just giving you the chance to choose your own master, and even better, you can choose to not have one," I explained, attempting to soothe the storm of emotions that had erupted.

Unexpectedly, Meralda moved closer, gripping my hands tightly. "I don't need it... I don't need a new one; you are enough, Master," she pleaded. A gentle green light enveloped both of our hands as she attempted to initiate a new contract, this time one of her choosing. Her mana flowed towards me, seeking to establish a connection.

As I observed her earnest expression, I sighed. Although I could accept the contract and forge a new connection with her, I refrained.

The fundamental truth lingered—I wouldn't risk her well-being by fostering a connection that could potentially harm her. Our natures, like opposite poles, posed a threat, and I couldn't allow her soul to be jeopardized due to a failed adaptation to my mana.

Forcefully letting go of our intertwined hands, Meralda fixed her gaze on me, her emerald green eyes betraying a quiver of understanding. "Master?" she uttered, her expression shifting into one of sadness.

"I'm sorry, Meralda, but being contracted with me would only hurt you," I explained gently, my words sinking into the atmosphere like a bittersweet melody. As the truth settled, Meralda's body trembled, and her once-tightly held composure faltered.

My authority, told me of her ongoing mental state, relayed the turmoil within her. System notifications kept popping up in my eyes.

"Hah, I told you to call me 'papa' when we're alone."

A gentle laugh escaped Christine's lips, and she shook her head with a fond smile.

"You know I can't do that, Your Majesty. Even if I am your daughter, your position deserves much respect. Familial bonds are no exception to respecting your grace and will, as you are the one and only emperor in this vast continent"

Hearing her words, the man slumped back in his seat, a sigh escaping him. The complexities of familial ties and royal duties weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"Fine" the emperor conceded, leaning back in his seat.

"But I heard there were some troubles going on in the academy quite recently. Even Duke Heiron was getting involved in the matter and visited the school himself. Would you be so kind as to enlighten this old man of yours regarding the situation there?"

Christine, with a knowing smile, understood the unspoken implications behind her father's seemingly benign request.

Despite being the emperor, doubts about the accuracy of information often crept into his mind.

The intricate web of courtly intrigue and politics made it challenging to discern the truth.

While information flowed through various channels, only the dukes and high-ranking ministers could reliably convey recent events directly to the emperor.

In essence, her father's request was a subtle plea for the unvarnished truth. He sought to bypass the potential manipulations and half-truths that could accompany information transmitted through official channels.

What he basically said behind those benevolent voice was = "I don't trust what the people here are telling me, and the duke is quite the shady snake, please tell me what exactly happened there"

With a composed demeanor, Christine began to recount the events at the academy, providing a detailed account of the recent incidents. The emperor, in turn, cross-referenced this information with the reports he had received.

It became apparent that many details were either distorted or omitted in the versions that had reached him.

Although he felt a twinge of annoyance at being kept in the dark, he couldn't ignore the possibility that Duke Heiron, known for his cunning and strategic mind, had purposefully withheld certain aspects to maintain a semblance of control and avoid embarrassment.

Although it might seem a bit foolish for the emperor of an entire nation to place trust in his daughter's words over those of his most loyal allies and subordinates, time and events had proven that, in this treacherous world, the only individuals he could completely rely on were himself, his wife, and his daughter.

"Thank you, Christine," the emperor expressed his gratitude.

"You're welcome, Your Majesty," Christine replied with a respectful nod.

The emperor sighed, feeling a pang of sadness every time his once-cute, lively daughter, who used to call him 'papa,' now addressed him with the formal 'Your Majesty.'

"Christine" he called out to her, shifting the conversation. "Regarding your fiancé, that Tellus kid—what are your thoughts on him?"

Christine hesitated for a moment before responding "Well... he's a piece of trash?"

Hearing his daughter's blunt assessment, the emperor's expression turned more serious.

"Tell me more" he demanded in a tone befitting an actual emperor.

The carefree air dissipated in the seemingly quiet room.