My Crybaby Father is the Kingdom's Worst Villain
Chapter 42: Forsaking the Script

Chapter 42: Forsaking the Script

Elena watched Luzia carefully, her expression laced with concern. Without a word, she led her through the winding paths of the estate’s garden, away from prying eyes and suffocating walls. The scent of night-blooming flowers lingered in the air, mixing with the crisp coolness of the evening breeze.

The sun was sinking into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet. Beyond the garden’s hedges, an expanse of rolling green stretched endlessly, its tranquility a stark contrast to the storm raging inside Luzia’s chest.

She froze mid-step.

This place... I know it.

Her gaze swept over the familiar landscape, and unbidden, a memory surfaced—Ignacio, older, standing right here beside her. The wind had been gentle that day, the same way it was now.

In that memory, his expression had been unreadable, but his presence had been steady. Warm.

Now, he barely looked at her without resentment shadowing his face.

A sharp sting formed behind her eyes. She sucked in a breath, but the tears welled up anyway.

Why does this feel like... like I’m saying farewell to someone I once loved?

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"I guess it’s because I made him hate Luzia this time," she murmured, the words barely more than a whisper.

But if Ignacio was meant to love Luzia... wouldn’t he still fall for her? No matter what?

Then why did the thought of that feel like a hollow reassurance?

Pain curled through her chest, deep and aching.

Elena stepped closer, arms folded. "Are you alright?"

Luzia blinked away the moisture in her eyes and turned her head. "Why did you bring me here?"

Elena hesitated for a beat, then exhaled. "I thought... after what you just heard, you’d want some fresh air."

Luzia let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Fresh air wouldn’t change anything.

Ramiro needed help.

Her father was now at the mercy of Duke Alejandro.

Luzia pressed a hand against her forehead, trying to steady her racing thoughts.

And then, a memory struck her like a dagger.

She saw herself—older, face streaked with tears—sobbing into her hands, her voice hoarse with grief.

"I want to be with you again dad."

The words echoed, wrapping around her like a phantom whisper.

Her breath hitched.

Wait... does this mean Ramiro dies earlier than Luzia?

A creeping sense of dread slithered up her spine.

She had always assumed he lived until she was sixteen, that he had been the cause of her death. That was how it had happened in the novel.

Or was it?

Doubt gnawed at the edges of her memory, distorting what she thought she knew.

What if—

Her stomach twisted.

What if something had been wrong all along?

Luzia pressed her palms against her face, blocking out the fading sunlight, the rustling leaves, Elena’s concerned gaze.

She felt like she was unraveling something beyond anyone’s imagination.

"My lady!"

Elena’s voice cut through the haze, pulling Luzia back from her reverie.

Luzia blinked and turned to her. "What is it?"

"I’ve been calling your name, but you seemed lost in thought. Are you alright, my lady?" Elena’s brows knitted with concern.

"I’m fine... just thinking." Luzia’s voice came out quieter than she intended.

Her breath wavered, uneven. Her hands trembled as she stared at the vast horizon.

The evening light bathed the garden in gold, but all she could feel was the weight of something unseen pressing down on her chest.

Isn’t this odd?

She clenched her fists. These memories—visions, whatever they were—kept surfacing, slipping through the cracks of what she thought she knew. They didn’t match the novel’s events. They didn’t fit the script she had been following since she woke up in this world.

For some reason... I don’t think this is just a mistake.

She bit her lip, her mind racing. The author hadn’t mentioned any of this. Was it a misinterpretation? A forgotten detail?

No. That explanation no longer satisfied her.

Was the novel ever real?

The question sent a cold shudder through her spine.

She had believed so blindly in its story, in its tragic inevitability. But now...

I’m beginning to doubt it.

The thought lodged itself deep in her chest, heavy and unshakable. If the novel’s reality was uncertain, then what else had she been wrong about?

After a long moment of contemplation, a newfound resolve settled in Luzia’s chest.

I will not let anything happen to Ramiro.

She turned to Elena, her expression firm. "We have to head home now."

Elena hesitated for a brief second before nodding. "Oh... alright, my lady. Let’s return to Sir Stephan, shall we?"

Luzia gave a curt nod, and together they left the garden, the weight of her decision pressing heavily on her shoulders.

The ballroom was still alive with murmurs and music, but Luzia barely registered any of it. She spotted Stephan near the entrance, his sharp eyes immediately noticing their approach. Without a word, they rejoined him, slipping out of the grand hall quietly.

A while later, they arrived back home.

As they stepped through the front door, Beatriz, who had been lingering nearby, spotted them immediately. She raised a brow. "Back so early? What happened?"

Luzia didn’t slow her stride. Her expression was set, her steps purposeful. "There is no time for that, Lady Beatriz. My father is in danger, and I must save him."

Without another word, she marched into the manor, determination burning in her eyes.

"His lordship is in danger?" Beatriz’s eyes widened in shock. "How is that possible?"

Luzia didn’t pause. "Where is Sir Aurelio?" she asked, her tone urgent.

Beatriz blinked, still processing Luzia’s words. "Sir Aurelio should be in his quarters or the study. But—"

Before she could finish, Luzia was already moving. She strode through the halls of the manor, her heart pounding. The flickering candlelight cast restless shadows on the walls, mirroring the unease in her chest.

Elena, Stephan and Beatriz hurried after her.

"My lady, please!" Beatriz called. "At least explain what’s happening!"

Luzia didn’t slow down. "There’s no time. If we don’t act now, it may be too late."

Reaching Aurelio’s quarters, she knocked firmly before pushing the door open. Aurelio stood near his desk, scanning over some documents, but his eyes immediately snapped to her.

"My lady?" Aurelio’s brows furrowed. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Luzia took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Sir Aurelio, my father is in danger. We need to act immediately."

Aurelio stiffened. His usual composed expression faltered for a moment before he masked it with a deep frown.

"His lordship?" he repeated, clearly caught off guard.

"Take me to Tormar," Luzia demanded, her voice firm.

Aurelio’s expression darkened. "Absolutely not, my lady. His lordship will not like that."

Luzia’s hands curled into fists, her patience running razor-thin. "Sir Aurelio, this is not a request."

Her voice was low, clipped, but beneath it burned a fire of frustration and barely restrained fear.

"My father is in danger, and every second we waste standing here arguing is another second he could be dying! You think I don’t know how dire the situation is? I know how dangerous Tormar is right now. I know my father wouldn’t want me there. But what do you expect me to do? Sit here like a useless doll while he—" She sucked in a sharp breath, pressing a hand to her forehead. "He is all I have, Aurelio. If something happens to him—"

She broke off, shaking her head violently, as if forcing herself to banish the thought.

Aurelio exhaled, voice steady. "Please be calm, my lady. I will request more of the duchy’s knights—"

"More knights?" Luzia’s eyes blazed as she took a step closer. "You already sent all of the duchy’s knights! Why else would you send a letter to Duke Alejandro for help under my father’s name?"

Aurelio’s breath caught.

Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating.

Luzia’s heart hammered in her chest, her nails digging into her palms.

"You knew the situation was desperate, and you still expect me to sit here and do nothing?" She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "If you’re so convinced my father wouldn’t want me there, then tell me, Aurelio—would he want me to be ignorant while his life is slipping through his fingers?"

Her voice cracked at the end, but her glare didn’t waver.

Aurelio’s lips parted slightly, but he hesitated before speaking. "My lady..." His voice was unusually soft, almost reluctant.

He turned away from Luzia, his gaze flickering toward Beatriz.

Beatriz, who had been silently watching, gave a firm nod.

But Aurelio shook his head.

He exhaled sharply before turning back to Luzia, his expression grim. "Tormar is indeed a very dangerous place right now... But I cannot—will not—endanger His Lordship’s only child."

Luzia opened her mouth to argue, but Aurelio pressed on, his voice heavy with something close to sorrow.

"Do you know how desperately he searched for you after the Duchess died? It affected him more than anyone realized. To the point where he had to step down from his position as Master of the Magic Tower."

Luzia froze.

Her thoughts churned violently, piecing together the truth hidden in Aurelio’s words.

Wait... The only reason he would ever step down was if he couldn’t control his magic.

Her breath caught as the realization struck.

Since magic and emotions go hand in hand... that means—

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

After losing both the love of his life and his child... he lost control. Emotionally and magically.

That makes so much sense.

Her father—Ramiro, the man who always stood so firm, so composed—had lost himself back then.

A sharp pang struck her chest, but she pushed it aside.

"But I can’t just let him die."

Her voice trembled, but her resolve was unshaken.

She stepped forward, gaze locking onto Aurelio’s with unyielding determination.

"His magic is still unstable, remember? I’m the only one who can help him regain control again."