I Won't Let Anyone Have My Beloved Daughter Rabi! ~The Love Circumstances Full of Misunderstandings Between the Former Strongest Mage and the Cursed Girl~
Douglas was once hailed as the strongest—an SS-rank royal mage who stood beside heroes. Now he's a washed-up old man with a rusty staff, a revoked license, and nothing left to his name. He's made peace with being needed by no one.
Then a soaked, mud-covered girl collapses at his door and calls him "Daddy."
Rabi carries a curse that destroys everything around her when her emotions surge—the same curse that killed her parents and burned her village to the ground. Hunted and cast out, all she wan
I Won't Let Anyone Have My Beloved Daughter Rabi! ~The Love Circumstances Full of Misunderstandings Between the Former Strongest Mage and the Cursed Girl~ - The Cursed Beloved Daughter and the Soup in the Abandoned House: The Case of Falling in Love with Daddy
The air in the forest was changing, bit by bit.
The wind threading through the trees had grown damper than before, carrying the scent of dense foliage more heavily. It was proof that the entrance to the Mistral Great Forest was close. Douglas stopped walking and looked back.
Silver hair shimmered in fine glints where the sunlight filtered through the leaves. Rabi was a little short of breath, but she was following three paces behind him with admirable grit. After last night's fight with the ether wolves, they were both covered in dirt and sweat and the faint smell of blood. On Douglas's left arm, a bite wound with nothing but field dressing throbbed with every step.
"You all right? Don't push yourself."
"Yeah, I'm fine! What about you, Dad? Does your arm hurt?"
Rabi trotted up beside him and peered anxiously at his left arm. Her large, violet-tinged eyes wavered with worry for the wound beneath the bandages.
"This? It's barely a scratch."
Douglas hid the pain and gave a light laugh. In truth, the ether wolf's fangs had gouged deep into the flesh, and numbness ran all the way to his fingertips. Even so, he couldn't let Rabi worry.
Last night, Rabi's curse had run wild. The ether explosion, released in answer to her surging emotions, had blown the pack apart in an instant. But that explosion had wounded Douglas too. Rabi had lost consciousness, and Douglas had been thrown by the blast. And yet they had both survived. It had been a night like a miracle.
"A little farther and there should be a village."
Douglas spoke as if tracing back a memory. Near the entrance to the Mistral Great Forest lay a small settlement called Grove Village. He had stopped there several times back in his adventuring days. Back then, he never would have imagined he'd come to it like this — battered and broken.
The trees thinned, and the view opened up.
Fields spread before them. Wheat swayed in the wind, and a dozen or so houses stood in the distance. Grove Village. It was a small place. Thin threads of smoke rose from the chimneys. The evening light dyed the whole village orange.
"Wow..."
Rabi let out a breath of wonder.
"What a pretty village... Are we going to live here, Dad?"
"For a while. First, let's find an inn."
The two of them started down the road toward the village.
The moment they reached the village entrance, he noticed something was off.
Villagers passing by stopped in their tracks the moment they saw the two of them and stared. At first he assumed it was just the wariness reserved for unfamiliar outsiders. But their gazes were fixed not on Douglas, but on Rabi.
Rabi's left arm.
Her sleeve had ridden up, and the curse's markings peeked faintly into view. The black, intricately tangled pattern rose eerily in the evening sun.
"Hey, look at that..."
"She's curse-marked. That pattern — no mistaking it."
Whispers, hushed but deliberately loud enough to hear. Rabi noticed and hurriedly pulled her sleeve down. She hung her head and bit her lip.
Douglas placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't mind them. Let's go."
They came to a stop before the inn at the center of the village. A two-story wooden building, its signboard reading "The Grove Rest." Douglas opened the door and stepped inside.
Behind the counter stood a stout proprietress. Somewhere around fifty, perhaps. Her graying hair was tied back, and she eyed the two of them with a stern look.
"I'd like a room for the night."
Douglas set a few copper coins on the counter.
The proprietress stared hard at Rabi, standing behind him. Then her gaze dropped to Rabi's left arm. The sleeve hid it, but her eyes were unmistakably fixed on the spot where the markings lay.
"...Sorry. We're fully booked."
She pushed the copper coins back.
"Fully booked? At this hour? I don't see a single customer."
The tavern seats were utterly empty.
"I said we're full. Try somewhere else."
Her voice turned cold.
"...I see."
Douglas picked up the coins and led Rabi back outside.
"I'm sorry, Dad. It's because I'm here..."
Rabi's voice was barely a whisper.
"It's not your fault."
Douglas tried another inn. It was the same there. The moment the owner laid eyes on Rabi, his expression changed.
"We don't take the curse-marked here. What if something happened to the village?"
Douglas left without a word.
The sun was nearly down. The sky had turned purple, and one star, then two, began to show themselves. As the two walked through the village, the stares pouring from the windows of the houses pierced them.
Rabi said nothing. Her head was down, her silver hair hiding her face. Now and then he heard her sniffle.
Douglas visited a house at the edge of the village. The village chief's house.
The chief was a thin old man past sixty. Deep wrinkles were carved into his sun-weathered face, and his small eyes sized the two of them up.
"There's an unused hut at the edge of the village."
When Douglas explained their situation, the chief answered with a look of annoyance.
"An abandoned place, used by charcoal burners long ago. It'll keep out the rain and wind. Three copper coins for one night — how's that?"
"We'll take it."
Douglas answered at once.
"One thing, though — don't use the well. I won't have anything happening to the villagers."
"What about water?"
"A stream runs behind it. Draw from there."
The chief glanced at Rabi, then spoke to Douglas.
"That girl's curse-marked, isn't she. Before she causes any trouble, I want you out of this village."
Douglas said nothing and pressed three copper coins into the chief's hand.
The abandoned hut at the village edge was smaller than he'd expected.
The plank walls had gaps here and there, and part of the roof was moss-covered. Even so, it had a roof, walls, and a floor. Just keeping out the rain and wind made it far better than camping.
"This is our home from today on."
Douglas opened the hut's door.
Inside was thick with dust. The smell of old charcoal had soaked into the place, and fallen leaves and dry twigs were scattered across the floor. In one corner lay a well-worn old pot and a broken wooden crate.
"It's a house! Dad, are we going to live here!?"
Rabi's face lit up all at once.
"Yeah. First, we clean."
"I'll do it! I'll clean!"
Rabi threw herself into it, gathering up the fallen leaves. The life in her was a world away from the gloom of moments before.
Douglas picked up the old pot.
"H-hey, that old pot's going in the trash."
"No! It's still usable! Dad, that's such a waste!"
Rabi snatched the pot from his hands.
"What part of this beat-up pot is usable?"
"If you wash it properly, it'll be good as new. You always want to throw everything away right away."
Rabi hugged the pot to her chest and puffed out her cheeks. Her face was so oddly adorable that Douglas couldn't help laughing.
"Good grief. Have it your way."
"Ehehe. Thanks, Dad."
Rabi smiled happily and set the pot in the corner.
The two of them kept cleaning the hut until the sun had fully set.
They swept the floor, stuffed cloth into the gaps in the walls, and repaired the broken crate into a shelf. Rabi worked with all her might, her small body covered in dust. Douglas found his eyes following her again and again.
(This girl really is something.)
Douglas murmured inwardly.
(Even a rundown hut like this — just being able to live together puts that look of joy on her face.)
Something deep in his chest warmed, slowly spreading.
When the cleaning was done, Rabi went outside and washed the pot in the stream. Then she gathered wild herbs from the grassy patch at the village edge.
"Dad, do you think we can eat these?"
Rabi showed Douglas the herbs she'd picked.
"Yeah, that one's edible. This one... leave it. It'll give you a stomachache."
Douglas sorted through the herbs, teaching her as he went.
"You're amazing, Dad. You know everything."
"I just spent a lot of nights sleeping rough back in the day. I picked it up without meaning to."
Douglas built a fire.
Rabi filled the old pot with stream water and tore the leftover hardtack into it along with the herbs. Then Douglas adjusted the heat.
The contents of the pot bubbled away.
The green scent of the herbs and the toasty smell of the hardtack spread through the hut.
"Done!"
Rabi poured the soup into wooden bowls.
"Here you go, Dad!"
Douglas took the soup. Steam rose, warm against his face.
He took a sip.
The faint bitterness of the herbs and the saltiness of the hardtack seeped into his tired body. It was no lavish meal. But it was warm.
"...This is good."
Douglas said it honestly.
"Really!? I'm so glad!"
Rabi smiled happily.
The moment he saw that smile, a distant memory stirred in Douglas's chest.
Once, he'd had a family too. A wife, and a small daughter. Every day they'd sat around the table as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His wife's warm cooking, his daughter laughing as she ate. Back then, he'd believed it would last forever.
But he had lost it all.
He'd thought that warmth would never return.
"Is it good, Dad?"
Rabi peered into his face.
"Yeah. It's good."
Douglas said it again.
(I have to protect this girl.)
The thought burned strong in his heart.
(There's the fear — can I? But I will.)
The flames of the fire crackled and swayed.
When the meal was over and they were cleaning up, Rabi murmured quietly.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hm?"
"I... I'm not related to you by blood, am I."
Douglas looked at her face.
Her violet eyes wavered in the firelight.
"So maybe I shouldn't call you Dad anymore..."
Her voice was so small it might vanish at any moment.
Douglas was at a loss for words, just for an instant.
(She's been thinking about this all along?)
Blood ties.
True enough, there was no blood between Douglas and Rabi.
But to Douglas, Rabi was no longer just a stranger.
"...If you want to call me that, then call me that."
"Eh?"
"I don't mind. If you want to call me 'Dad,' then that's what you should call me."
Douglas looked straight into her eyes.
"Whether we share blood or not doesn't matter. I think of you as my daughter."
Rabi's eyes went wide.
"...Really?"
"Really."
Slowly, a smile spread across her face.
"Dad...!"
Rabi ran to his side and hugged him tight.
"Dad, Dad, Dad!"
She called to him over and over.
"Good grief. Nothing to be done with you."
To hide his embarrassment, Douglas patted her head.
(There's one more person I have to protect.)
(That's a joy.)
(But at the same time, it's a terror.)
Douglas stared into the flames.
(What if I fail again?)
(What if this girl gets hurt right in front of me?)
Douglas asked himself.
(Can I still fight?)
(With this worn-out body?)
The fire crackled and burned.
Douglas gently touched the wound on his left arm.
The pain drove reality home.
(But I can't give up.)
(I won't leave this girl alone.)
Quietly, Douglas resolved himself.
The night deepened.
Rabi had fallen asleep, nestled against Douglas.
Her sleeping face, lit by the firelight, was peaceful.
Douglas watched her sleep and let out a small breath.
(I'll protect her. No matter what.)
A wind blew in from deep in the forest.
It carried the ether mist, wrapping quietly around the two of them.
Douglas moved slowly so as not to wake Rabi.
He draped a blanket over her. She stirred faintly, then settled back into quiet breathing.
Douglas stepped outside the hut.
Countless stars twinkled in the night sky. Moonlight cast a pale blue glow over the village fields.
(That girl trusts me.)
Douglas thought, gazing up at the stars.
(I have to answer that trust.)
But he did not yet know that her trust would one day change into something else entirely.
That night, watching Rabi sleep, Douglas noticed that something other than familial affection had begun to bud, small and quiet, inside his heart.
(What is this?)
Douglas pressed a hand to his chest.
(This ticklish, aching feeling —)
No answer came.
Only Rabi's s
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