“Who told you to hold a duster with your injured hand……. A rag? Ha! That thing in your hand can’t possibly be a rag……?”
I covered my ears and mentally sang my favorite song ten times. When Dad paused to inhale sharply, I cut in.
“Nooo, I just tidied the office! Look! The desk’s sparkling! The sofa’s……”
Wait—when did I clean that?
Anyway, shiny!
“The display case and table were half-done, so they’re not great……. Huh? They’re spotless?”
I’d only given them a quick wipe, but everything gleamed!
‘Maybe I’m better at cleaning than I thought.’
Puffing with pride, I pulled a paper from my pocket.
“It’s pristine! Please fill out this evaluation!”
“Unbelievable…”
Dad sighed, taking the form. His brow crumpled like crushed paper.
“Is this a joke?”
“Whyyy…?”
Were the questions too weird?
‘Subjective sections are brutal!’
Dad grabbed a pen and slashed giant circles across all four categories.
“Eek!”
“Get to the point.”
The Duke—who’d stuffed my evaluation into the same drawer as my origami frog—glared.
“What’s this circus really about?”
“Heh. Well…”
I gulped and blurted:
“I want to invite a friend to the summit!”
Behold—the Empire’s Jelly Prince!
“You’re ‘friends’ with the Second Prince?”
“We chatted in the carriage and just clicked!”
Lie. We’d clashed from head to toe.
I just couldn’t forget failing to grab his hand that day.
‘Well, there’s more…’
Dusting soil off my knees, I groaned.
“Only the First Prince is attending. The Emperor might refuse. Sigh… Fine. Put. The. Rag. Down.”
“Rag? What rag?”
“Good.”
Dad immediately scrawled a letter to the palace.
Two days later:
“All planted!”
I raised dirt-smudged hands triumphantly.
Mintmary seeds—mission accomplished!
“Grow strong…”
My precious sprouts.
Pat pat. As I fake-tapped them while channeling magic, the soil twitched oddly.
“But…”
I turned slowly.
‘Why’s Dad working here?’
There, under the garden’s shade tree, sat his office desk.
“My puppy! Grandma’s here— Hey! That’s my spot!”
Grandma Elisa dropped her lawn chair, glaring.
“What’re you doing?!”
“Working.” Dad doodled on documents, deadpan.
“……Use your actual office! You love that stuffy salon!”
“Changing environments boosts efficiency.”
He sounded unconvinced.
Grandma wheeled on Secretary Ruskah. “Why’s he like this?”
Ruskah—hauling document sheaves with Theo napping on his back—bounced on his heels.
“Muscle memory possession again! He just had to work here—like a man haunted!”
“Disgraceful! Needs an exorcism! Ruskah, tissues!”
“My papers…”
I giggled, drenching the soil.
‘He always watched me plant seeds in Repi Village too.’
Warm fuzzies.
‘The summit’s approaching…’
Still no word about the Second Prince. Time to prepare.
Mintmary was just Phase 1.
The real key?
‘Dad’s cooperation!’
Let’s break down the impending crisis:
1. Incident Summary
Winterwald’s divine tree is dying—threatening Dad’s reputation and our dukedom.
2. How?
A magic gauge “proves” the tree’s decaying aura. Dad gets audited.
3. Culprit?
‘……’
My thoughts stalled. Find the mastermind, stop them—simple. Yet…
‘No clue.’
Why?
‘Reality’s diverging from my dreams.’
In the original timeline:
Summit held at Summerrain Dukedom
Summerrain Duke exposed the tree issue after receiving intel
Dad, grieving Elisa’s death, refused private talks—got blindsided
Now?
Summit’s in Winterwald
Summerrain Duke’s absent (secluded in Repi Village—trust move?)
Ergo: The intel source will strike directly
‘Someone at the summit has that magic gauge!’
I stared at my herbs.
‘My plants will sniff them out!’
Fast-growing mintmary buys time.
Now for the final piece—
Dad.
My eyes gleamed.
Next morning:
“Secretary!”
A haggard Ruskah looked up. I skidded my wooden board to a halt.
“Lirin? Shouldn’t you be commuting to the garden?”
“True, but—”
He checked his watch. “Hurry. Gardener rush hour incoming.”
“Hooong… Naaah…”
I grabbed his sleeve.
“One tiny favor?”
Ruskah’s eyebrow levitated.
