The dining room, with its towering windows and warm amber chandeliers, still made Luna feel like an intruder in someone else's dream.
But as she stepped in, her eyes found Emmerich already seated at the head of the table, his posture composed as always, yet something about the way his expression softened at her arrival made the room feel a little less intimidating.
"Luna," he greeted, rising slightly. "I'm glad you could join me."
She smiled, tentative but sincere, and took her seat across from him. "Wouldn't miss it. You're not as scary at dinner as I thought you'd be."
That earned a low chuckle from Emmerich, the kind that briefly crinkled the corners of his eyes. "I've been accused of worse."
The meal began with gentle conversation—brief comments about the food, which was, as expected, exquisitely prepared. It wasn't long, though, before Luna, true to her nature, decided to dive into what was on her mind.
"So… I wanted to ask you something," she said, pausing with her fork halfway to her mouth. "It's kind of important."
Emmerich set down his wine glass. "Of course."
She hesitated, then decided to start small.
"Would it be okay if I brought my cat—Milo—here? He's been with me for years, and I don't want to leave him behind."
Emmerich's face lit up in a way she didn't expect. "Absolutely. I'll have the staff prepare everything he'll need. A room near yours, perhaps? Scratching posts, food preferences—just let us know."
Luna blinked, a smile spreading across her face. "You don't mind?"
"Not at all. It's your home now too, Luna. And every home needs a bit of mischief and fur," he said with a wink.
Relieved, she beamed. "Thanks, Dad."
It came out naturally this time, and the way Emmerich's gaze lingered on her—gentle and quiet, but unmistakably moved—made her chest feel warm.
But then Luna shifted slightly, pushing a piece of grilled fish to the side of her plate.
"There's something else," she added, more carefully. "About the café I work at. The owner won the lottery and plans to sell it. It's where I've worked for years, and it means a lot to me. The people, the cats… everything. Ken—my manager—told me the place might shut down."
Emmerich listened patiently.
"I want to buy it," Luna said firmly. "But not in my name. I still want to work there part-time. I don't want them treating me differently."
Emmerich tilted his head, thoughtful. "So you'd like me to acquire the café under my name, and you continue working there without anyone knowing it's yours?"
She nodded. "Exactly. I just want to keep doing something normal… something I chose."
Emmerich leaned back in his chair, then smiled—soft, indulgent, warm. "Then that's what we'll do. I'll have the legal team draw up the paperwork discreetly. You'll have your café. And your job."
Luna blinked, taken aback for a moment at how easily he agreed. "Just like that?"
He shrugged with the same elegance he wore like a second skin. "As long as it's not dangerous or harmful to you, Luna… do whatever you want. Live how you need to. You don't need my permission—just my support."
For a moment, all Luna could do was stare at him.
Then she broke into a grin and shook her head in disbelief. "You know… being your daughter isn't half as bad as I thought it'd be."
Emmerich's expression softened even more at that, his eyes filled with quiet pride. "You're full of surprises, Luna."
"So are you," she muttered, before digging back into her food, heart a little lighter than it had been in days.
After dinner, with dessert barely digested and her energy still bubbling, Luna found herself lingering just a little longer near the hallway that branched off toward the entertainment wing.
"Hey, Dad?" she asked, her voice casual but curious.
Emmerich turned, hands clasped neatly behind his back. "Yes, Luna?"
She rocked on her heels, then grinned. "Do you play darts?"
He raised a brow, amused. "I used to, back in university. Why do you ask?"
"I want to see if the legendary Emmerich Lancaster can hit a bullseye," she said with exaggerated drama, nudging his arm playfully. "Come on, let's play a few rounds."
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it quickly melted into something warm. "Then lead the way."
As they strolled down the corridor, Luna couldn't help but boast. "By the way, I totally crushed my charming cousins earlier. They tried to taunt me, but turns out, they're all talk and no aim."
Emmerich chuckled softly, the sound full of restrained amusement. "I'm sure that was a humbling experience for them."
"They're probably still licking their wounds," she said, just as they rounded the corner into the entertainment room.
Sure enough, both young men were there—leaning against the dartboard wall, eyes fixed on a tablet between them playing a tutorial titled "Mastering Darts: Beginner to Pro in 7 Steps."
Luna nearly burst out laughing at the sight.
Sebas and Cass, upon seeing her and Emmerich enter, immediately stiffened. One cleared his throat, stepping away from the screen, while the other muttered a barely audible, "Good evening, Uncle… Luna."
"Evening!" Luna beamed, completely unbothered. "Practicing already? Good. Because you're gonna need it."
Their jaws clenched in unison.
"Why don't you two play with me until you're better?" she teased, picking up a dart and twirling it between her fingers. "Could be fun. You know, remedial lessons with the reigning dart queen."
The older cousin looked like he was about to scoff, but his eyes darted to Emmerich—who had settled onto a nearby leather sofa, watching Luna with an expression of quiet pride, something almost fatherly radiating from his gaze.
Seeing that, Cass sighed, picked up a dart, and mumbled, "Fine. Just a few rounds."
"Oh?" Luna grinned. "Trying to win Uncle's approval through darts now? Bold strategy."
Sebas bristled, then stepped up beside his brother, pointing a finger at her. "We'll play. But don't expect us to go easy on you just because you're—" He caught himself before finishing the sentence.
Luna raised a brow, smirking. "Because I'm what? Your new cousin? The heiress? Or just someone who happened to humiliate you both in front of your pride and joy?"
Emmerich, from his seat, let out a soft ahem, the closest thing to a warning she'd heard from him.
She took the hint and laughed it off, waving her hand. "Relax. I'm just teasing. Let's play."
And so they did—Luna confidently tossing darts with sharp precision while the cousins, red-faced but determined, tried to keep up. Emmerich watched silently from the side, his presence a calm anchor in the spirited chaos.
In the end, the competition wasn't just about darts anymore. It was a slow, uneasy attempt at connection. Imperfect, awkward… but maybe a start.
And as Luna nailed another bullseye with a triumphant grin, Emmerich couldn't help but think: Her mother would have adored this.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Luna sank into the buttery softness of the chaise lounge near her bedroom window, still clad in her semi-casual dinner clothes, a half-amused, half-exhausted smile playing on her lips. Outside, the manor grounds were cloaked in night's velvet, garden lamps casting soft pools of golden light across trimmed hedges and swaying trees.
She tilted her head back, chuckling to herself.
"What a weird… weird night."
Dinner had gone smoother than she expected—no awkward silence, no cryptic life lessons, just food, laughter, and her father's calm warmth. Then there was the entertainment room... the not-so-royal cousins fumbling with darts like they'd never held anything lighter than a spreadsheet.
They couldn't beat her in darts. And when pride led them to challenge her in drinks too, that ended with one slurring "You think you're better than us?" and the other confessing he once cried over a marketing report. She let them vent, let them release all the bitterness they thought she'd earned in a day.
And now… both were snoring somewhere in a guest lounge, limbs sprawled out inelegantly, defeated.
She smirked. "Can't beat me in darts or drinking. Pathetic."
A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts, and a moment later, Emmerich stepped into her room—his usual tailored perfection slightly relaxed now, a rare touch of fatigue in his eyes but an amused smile on his face.
"I see you've conquered the entertainment room," he said lightly, eyeing the glass of water she was sipping. "And possibly your cousins."
"My cousins had it coming," she quipped. "They talk like board meetings and drink like babies."
Emmerich let out a quiet laugh, then glanced at the armchair beside her and waited for her small nod before sitting. "They needed someone to knock them down a peg or two. You handled yourself well tonight."
Luna glanced sideways at him. "Didn't think you'd be so chill about your nephews getting wasted on your liquor and passed out on your couches."
"They're adults. They made their choices. Besides…" He raised an eyebrow, an almost playful gleam in his gaze. "I'm more impressed by how well you hold your liquor. That, you get from me."
She snorted. "Please, you sip whiskey like it's an art form."
Emmerich chuckled again. "True."
The moment softened, and silence settled between them for a heartbeat before Luna leaned back, folding her arms behind her head. "You know… I only got good at darts because of Kana."
Emmerich tilted his head. "The friend you mentioned?"
"She's the one who stayed," Luna said simply. "When things got rough, when my wallet barely held coins, when I thought I was going to break—she dragged me out, shoved darts in my hand, and told me to throw my frustration at the board."
Emmerich listened quietly, the weight of her words not lost on him.
"She sounds like someone very precious to you."
"She is," Luna said, softer this time. "I owe her a lot. And now that I actually… have something, I want to pay her back. Not in a 'here's a wad of cash' kind of way. Just… something meaningful. Something she'd never expect."
There was a glint in Emmerich's eyes—pride, maybe, or something even gentler.
"You don't have to worry," he said. "You'll have both a formal proof of your new status and a gift prepared by morning. Something you can hand her yourself. Consider it a thank-you… from me, as well."
Luna stared at him, then looked down into her half-empty glass.
She wasn't used to this—having someone anticipate her needs, help without hesitation. It was strange. It was comforting. And it scared her just a little.
"…Thanks, Dad."
He stood then, offering her a rare, gentle smile as he adjusted the sleeves of his blazer. "Sleep well, Luna."
As he left, Luna looked out the window again, night wrapping around her like a second skin. Her world had shifted on its axis. But for the first time in a long time… she wasn't completely afraid of where it was heading.