161: Mr. Flores and Dante's conversation

Mr. Flores and Dante's conversation

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"Margaret, we will be having dinner a bit later," Mr. Flores announced to his wife. 

Anastasia watched her father make his way towards the back door of the house without speaking another word. Her eyes briefly met Dante's before he followed her father out of the house and into the backyard. Reaching the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of them disappearing through the window. 

Dante continued walking alongside Anastasia's father until they put a good distance between them and the house. Eventually, the man stopped and sat down on a bench facing a flowing stream of water. 

"Sit down," Mr. Flores spoke, his gaze shifting to Dante, who complied and took a seat on the opposite side of the bench under the starry sky. "It seems that you are able to accept Anastasia for who she is because you are similar to her." His eyes met the young man's, who stared back at him. "What are you?" 

Dante could tell that even though Anastasia's father was now aware of what he was capable of, the man remained unafraid to question and understand his nature. He responded, 

"An archdemon from the underworld who came to the living realm in search of blood, only to find love." Deciding to reveal the crucial truth, he disclosed, "I was once a prince of the same country where your daughters were taken to. I am good at combat because I served as a knight for my kingdom."

Mr. Flores's eyes widened in surprise before a grim expression clouded his face. He inquired, "Were you exiled by your family that you turned into a farmer?"

Dante's gaze softened as he recalled how the people of his kingdom treated him as an outcast, all while he resided within the palace walls. He answered, "I used to be a farmer before I transformed into an archdemon. Presently, I hold the position of king."

Dante observed Mr. Flores's attentive gaze before turning his attention to the flowing water. He confessed, "What my father did to you and others, he is paying for it in Hell. His decisions and actions have caused harm not only to individuals outside Versailles but also within our own family. Before I met Anastasia, I was like a ghost, and I didn't know if I was allowed to feel the way I do now."

Mr. Flores sighed as a furrow formed on his brow. He expressed, "Dante, you should understand that this is very difficult for me. The pirates may have been the ones to steal them, but your family is responsible for the pain inflicted upon my daughters. One of them lost her life when she had her entire future ahead of her." His hands clenched, gripping tightly together. 

"Unfortunately, I cannot change where I was born or who I was born to. However, if you'll allow me, I would like to share my story with you." Dante watched as Mr. Flores eventually turned and nodded in response. 

"Let me hear it then." 

Dante began by recounting their initial connection during their first lives, when he and Anastasia corresponded as pen pals, before he continued with the rest of their story that ultimately brought them to the present moment. From the curse to their soulmate bond, Hugh listened attentively without question. While Dante chose not to delve into certain aspects in great detail, aware of the potential impact on the man, he provided the necessary information so that Anastasia's father understood that he was nothing like his own father. 

Anastasia, who had finished helping her mother prepare dinner, found herself lacking an appetite. She repeatedly cast glances in the direction where her father and Dante had gone. Her mother noticed her craning her neck and remarked, 

"Seems like your father and Dante have quite a lot to talk about. It has been more than an hour now."

"I will go see what's taking so long," Anastasia informed her mother, and she swiftly neared the spot where they sat. However, when she caught sight of them, her footsteps slowed down. 

They didn't appear to be speaking, with silence surrounding them. Then she heard Dante's voice break the hush. 

"I hope I can make up for your loss one day, Mr. Flores."

Upon noticing her father's lack of response, Anastasia became worried, wondering how upset her father was. He then stood up from the bench, seemingly prepared to depart and head back home. In that moment, she felt her heart break, on the brink of shattering, as the thought crossed her mind that perhaps she had hoped for a little too much by thinking her father and Dante would be able to get along after everything that had happened. 

But then Anastasia saw her father walk towards a nearby drum. He pushed the lid aside, and his hand disappeared inside of it to grab something. The darkness of the night made it hard for her to see what her father held in his hand, and it wasn't until he returned to the bench where they had previously been seated that she discerned the liquor bottle, prompting her eyebrows to rise. 

"I think we both could use this," Mr. Flores said to Dante, and he offered him a glass. 

Dante wore a slightly stunned expression, not expecting Mr. Flores's offer of a drink. When he took the glass from Anastasia's father's hand, the man proceeded to pour the liquor and continued, 

"The anguish that I carry within my chest—I doubt it can ever truly fade. However, I am not an irrational man, Dante, especially when you have overcome your own hardships, to hold you responsible for something that was beyond your control in the past." Mr. Flores then poured the liquor into his glass before taking a seat, with Dante following suit. He said, "I think I understand better now what Anna meant when she said you were each other's soulmate."

Dante felt a profound sense of gratitude towards Mr. Flores for his acceptance, and he couldn't help but offer his deepest bow to the man. He solemnly gave him his word, saying, "Though I cannot turn back time, I promise to cherish Anastasia and care for her in a way no one else can."

"I am sure you will, even though it is going to take a few hours for everything to truly sink in," Mr. Flores responded before taking a sip from the glass. He said, "Anastasia is still young, and due to all the time she spent away from home, she hasn't had the chance to blossom the way faes usually do. And though, in time, she will become capable of taking care of herself, I would still like someone to stand by her side, someone stronger than her not only in terms of strength but also in mind, to be her pillar of support."

It wasn't Dante's combat skills that had impressed Mr. Flores, but rather his understanding and steadfast support of his daughter when Benson attempted to malign her. 

"She is my pillar just as much as I am hers," Dante remarked, and Anastasia, who was listening to them from nearby, smiled while leaning against the tree beside her. 

Anastasia observed her father empty his glass before asking, "What's the matter? You haven't finished your drink yet." 

Her father seemed to have rendered Dante momentarily speechless, and he confessed, "I never thought things would go so smoothly." 

It seemed like some matters became easier when they were discussed out loud rather than left confined within the mind, Anastasia thought. The slight guilt that she had carried in her heart seemed to have dissipated, making it easier for her to breathe. 

Dante continued, "Even Anastasia had concerns, and we hoped that you would be open to hearing what we had to say." 

"Hm," Mr. Flores responded before he said, "I was very angry when I found out that my little one had already found a man. When she was stolen from us, she was only this tall." He raised his hand in front of him to indicate the height. "So small, young, and innocent. You see, in my mind, that little girl never grew up, despite the years that have gone by. So it felt ridiculous."

Curious to know more and fill in the blanks that were left, Mr. Flores inquired, "How was she when she arrived at your palace? Both my daughters."

Anastasia reflected that this was knowledge her father wouldn't obtain directly from Dante. After all, Dante was busy honing his combat skills and participating in wars. 

"They were both quiet girls, perhaps a little too quiet. Anastasia got into more trouble than Marianne did," Dante replied to Mr. Flores's query, prompting Anastasia to wonder whether he was summarising her entire palace experience, given that she indeed got into numerous troubles. 

"I wouldn't be surprised," Mr. Flores murmured before taking a sip from his refilled glass. "She used to run so fast at times and would frequently trip. She also had a habit of climbing trees. And no matter how deep the wound was, she never let it show. I wonder if she put on a brave face to keep Mary from always worrying," he mused. 

A silence followed, and Dante emptied his glass. He said, "There's a woman back in the palace who has looked after them throughout the years."

"Bless her heart," Mr. Flores murmured. "Hopefully alive?" he asked, to which Dante nodded. 

"Very much alive and breathing," Dante replied. 

"That's reassuring to know. Margaret and I would like to personally express our gratitude to her," Mr. Flores said, then continued, "Here, bring your glass closer."

"Allow me," Dante offered, reaching for the bottle, but Mr. Flores shook his head and remarked, 

"You are my future son-in-law, or perhaps you already are. You should listen to me!"

Anastasia, who stood behind them, wondered if the alcohol was affecting her father's senses. He directed, "Now, bring your glass," and proceeded to pour the liquor into Dante's glass. 

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Dante appeared preoccupied, which even her father noticed. He asked, "Does it not suit your taste? Unfortunately, this is all we have."

"No, it isn't that," Dante reassured Anastasia's father. He went on, "Life in this village is much simpler compared to the one in the palace. I never shared something like this with my father before."

It wasn't that his father lacked time for him; rather, Dante wasn't worthy in his eyes, and in his past earthling life, he never had the chance to meet his father. As if sensing his dejection, Mr. Flores placed his hand on Dante's back. 

"Then you and I should spend a lot of time together, son. To make up for things you've missed out on." Mr. Flores attempted to cheer Dante up before he refilled his glass again. 

Dante noticed how warmly Mr. Flores welcomed him, offering acceptance and a sense of belonging he had never previously been granted. He gazed at the man, who smiled at him.

Though Dante couldn't become as intoxicated as Mr. Flores, he did join the man in finishing the bottle until Anastasia emerged from behind the tree, offering her shoulder to her father. 

"I got him." Dante placed Mr. Flores's arm around his shoulder and helped him walk back to the house. 

Upon entering the house, Mrs. Flores exclaimed, "Oh, my, how embarrassing. Looks like he had quite the night with you."

Dante was sure that, if nothing else, Anastasia's father and his grandmother would bond through their shared appreciation for alcohol. He said, "Let me help him to the room."

Mrs. Flores opened the door, and Dante laid Mr. Flores on the bed, with additional help from Mrs. Flores. She expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thank you, Dante."

Anastasia grasped Dante's hand, and he turned to face her. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. She asked, "Want to take a walk?" 

"Where are you taking me?" Dante inquired, his crimson eyes staring into her eyes. 

"To my place," Anastasia replied with a radiant smile, and together, they exited the house. Walking hand in hand, they remained connected without letting go, even for a moment. 

Unlike many other times, Dante allowed her to lead him, noticing her turn to look at him, the striking filaments of green within her eyes standing out as prominently as his red ones. He remarked, "Your eyes are glowing, little rabbit, now that you are back to the place where your roots originate from."

When they walked further, little green lights began to glow, emerging from the ground and moving upwards. Soon, they arrived at a place where certain flowers and plants emitted a gentle luminance. Even the fish in the water glowed blue. Reaching a grassy area, they sat on the ground, facing each other. She said,  2

"I have been waiting to bring you here at this hour to show you the lights." 

Anastasia gazed at the magical land that surrounded them. But as beautiful as the magic around them was, Dante's focus remained fixed on the breathtaking woman before him. She remarked, "It seems you won't have to wait for the land to produce any yield, as you now have Papa's approval." 

Dante emitted a soft hum before saying, "We are going to be here for a few more days, and it might appear odd if others perceived me as freeloading. Also, I like you bringing me lunch and sitting next to me during this quiet time, which is ours alone."

Anastasia nodded, affirming, "I like it too." Leaning forward, she gently pressed her lips against his, and in the next moment, Dante pulled her into his lap. His nose rubbed against hers, and it made her smile. Her hands found their way into the thick locks of his hair as they both became lost in each other's company. 

Dante caressed her back and asked, "Aren't you tired? It was a long day."

At the same time, a yawn escaped from Anastasia's lips, and she smiled, replying, "A little." She then let her head rest on his shoulder while playing with his hand. She asked, "Do you think that if I ask them to stay in Versailles, they will agree?" 

"It never hurts to ask," Dante answered, watching her as she drew in a deep breath and exhaled it. "If you ask now, they will have plenty of time to decide between now and once we are married."

Though Anastasia already knew the answer, she decided to ask her parents about it tomorrow. There was also something else she wanted to ask her father, and she believed it would go well. 

When Anastasia fell asleep in Dante's arms after several minutes had passed, he let out a soft chuckle. He kissed her temple before pulling away to murmur, "Your heart sounded excited to come here." 

He then shifted his gaze to the illuminated surroundings that remained hidden from others. There was something very peaceful about this place, as if it held power to heal his wounds and erase his scars. 

Dante's hand then moved to the ground, where his finger drew something, and upon a murmur of a word, Migdre materialised. The imp looked utterly confused by the glowing lights, its eyes darting back and forth before it remembered to bow. 

"Master!" it whispered. 

"There are some things you need to fetch," Dante instructed, and a small scroll fell into the imp's hand. 

Curious, Migdre unrolled the scroll, and its eyes widened. "Master, this is…" Dante's eyes narrowed, prompting the imp to swiftly vanish. 

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