Try Crying Prettier

will’ shown by the High Temple.

Fortunately, the pain soon subsided.
Taking his hand off his neck, Owen let out a weary sigh.
Then he covered his sweat-drenched face with both hands.

“Whooo.”

Sometimes the weight he had to carry was too heavy.
Even he, a man rich in years of experience, sometimes felt his legs tremble.
But he had to somehow survive and endure for the family he had to protect and support.

Owen sometimes wondered: The burden on my shoulders or the family holding my hand— which one is heavier?

Knock knock—

Fortunately, before he sank too deep into a gloomy despair, someone knocked on his study door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Dad.”

The door opened, and Damia entered through it.
Then, with something hidden behind her back, she crept over and sat across from him.

A smile spread across Owen’s face when he saw this.
He loved his family.
But he was just a little tired.

Just the presence of his lovely daughter’s face brought spring to his darkened study.
Owen asked with affection,

“What has brought you to my study, Damia? And what are you hiding behind your back?”

Damia smiled brightly at his question and held out her hand.

“I have a present I want to give to my father.”

“A gift?”

“Yes.
It’s not grand, but I made it myself.”

Was today his birthday? Owen was bewildered, but he delightfully unwrapped the box.
And soon, he was admiring it.

Damia gifted him a stunning handkerchief she embroidered with her own two hands.

“It is so pretty.
Did you make this for your father?”

Owen’s happy face, promising he would cherish it, came to life.
Seeing this, Damia received a new comfort.

She should have been like this from the start.
She should’ve given it to her family first, rather than giving a gift to a playboy like Akkard.

“By the way, why are you giving me a present? What’s going on? Is there something you would like to have?”

asked Owen, feeling a lot better.
He was willing to get her daughter anything she wanted.
However, her hidden intentions were different.

“Father, I… … .”

Damia paused and brought out her other hand that had been hidden.
Then, unexpectedly, what was in her hand was a sweet cider.

“I wish we could spend a little more time together.
If possible, with some alcohol.”

With a grin, Damia shook the cider.
Owen hesitated for a moment at his daughters’ suggestion for a drink.

His work laid out on the desk is not yet finished.
But since he received a precious gift, he wanted to make time for her request.

Owen roughly shoved his delivery list into his drawer.
And he gladly accepted the glass that his daughter had offered him.

“Alright! As a father, I can’t lose to my daughter.”

***