My Crybaby Father is the Kingdom’s Worst Villain

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Luzia's room. Groggily, she opened her eyes and squinted at the ceiling. "Morning already," she muttered, her voice thick with sleep.

A knock interrupted her half-hearted stretch.

"Come in," she called, already bracing for annoyance.

Cecilia entered, her smile as bright as ever. "Good morning, my lady! I trust you slept well?"

Luzia barely stifled an eye roll. "Perfectly," she deadpanned, swinging her legs over the bed.

"I'll be your personal maid from today," Cecilia announced proudly.

Luzia's eyebrow arched. The novel says she's the only one who cared for Luzia… but something about her feels off. She said nothing, letting Cecilia prattle on.

"His lordship said to get you ready quickly," Cecilia chirped.

"Why?" Luzia shot back.

Cecilia's smile widened. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough, my lady. After I dress you!"

Luzia's face remained impassive. "Oh, joy," she muttered under her breath, glancing at the door as if contemplating the possibility of just locking herself inside and pretending she didn't exist. 'To be honest, I don't wish to leave this room. At all.'

"Come now, my lady," Cecilia urged, practically bouncing on her heels as she hurried over to assist her with undressing.

Luzia sighed. 'If I'd known 'dressing up' was a requirement for life here, I'd have stayed a hermit.'

A while later, Ramiro leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples with a groan.

"There's a lot to do again this morning," he muttered, his voice weary as he glanced at the pile of papers stacked neatly in front of him.

Esteban stood at the edge of the room, his posture perfect as he waited for instruction. "Yes, my lord. Oh and sir Aurelio sent this letter from Duke Castillo," he said, handing over a neatly folded envelope, the wax seal still intact.

Ramiro took the letter with a smirk, flipping it over in his hand. "He doesn't waste time, does he?" he mused, examining the seal before casually tossing it to the side. "I'll check it out later."

Esteban gave a nod, already anticipating the next command. "Of course, my lord."

Ramiro's gaze sharpened as he turned his attention to the tasks at hand. "Esteban, I want you to look into the best etiquette teachers in the region. And, while you're at it, find a suitable teacher for Luzia's studies as well."

Esteban's eyes flickered with a hint of curiosity but remained impassive. "Of course, my lord. Do you have a specific direction for her studies, or should I simply find someone well-versed in all matters?"

Ramiro waved a hand, already lost in thought. "Both, I suppose. She needs to learn more than just proper manners. She has her... quirks." He smirked again, his gaze distant.

Esteban's lips twitched in understanding. "I shall get to it right away, my lord."

Ramiro leaned back in his chair, watching as Esteban moved to open the door. The soft click of the handle echoed through the room, followed by the creak of the door as it swung open.

Luzia stood in the doorway, looking as if she'd been dragged out of bed against her will. Cecilia followed, radiating enthusiasm, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Lady Luzia? Miss Cecilia?" Esteban asked, his voice neutral.

Without missing a beat, Ramiro stood up and strode toward the door, his eyes immediately locking onto Luzia.

"My lord, I have prepared her just as you asked," Cecilia said, her voice tinged with a hint of pride.

"Thank you, Cecilia," Ramiro replied, offering a nod of acknowledgment.

Cecilia bowed gracefully before turning and leaving the room, her footsteps light as she disappeared down the hallway.

Ramiro's gaze shifted back to Luzia, his expression unreadable. "Luzia, come in."

Luzia hesitated for a brief moment, then stepped forward into the room. Meanwhile, Esteban gave a respectful bow. "Well then, I will be on my way, my lord." He turned and exited swiftly, leaving the two of them alone in the study.

Luzia stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room as she tried to mask the curiosity tugging at her. The study was exactly how she had seen it in the vision.

'So that person was searching Ramiro's study?' she thought.

Ramiro gave her a pointed look, gesturing to the sofa across from his desk. "Have a seat, Luzia," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "You can wait here while I finish my work."

Luzia froze for a second, her initial instinct to argue already bubbling up. 'What? I don't want to sit here and watch him do boring work.' But before she could voice her protest, Ramiro added, almost as an afterthought, "The servants will bring some snacks."

Luzia's stomach gave an almost immediate, dramatic rumble at the mention of food. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach as if to silence it, but it only made the situation more obvious.

She rolled her eyes, sighing dramatically. "Well, since you put it that way…" she muttered. Then, with a half-smirk, she added, "I'm hungry, so I suppose I'll stay for the snacks."

Ramiro raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused by the sudden shift in her attitude, but said nothing as he motioned for her to sit. Luzia plopped down into the sofa, arms crossed.

A moment later, as Ramiro busied himself with his work, the sharp knock on the door interrupted the silence.

"Come in," he called without looking up from the pile of papers in front of him.

The door creaked open, and in walked Elena, carrying a tray of snacks. She set it down on the small table in front of Luzia. "Snacks, my lord, my lady," she said, her voice soft but clear as she arranged the treats.

Luzia's gaze immediately locked onto the assortment of pastries and fruit, her expression softening. She eyed the tray like a pirate finding a treasure chest, and after a brief pause, let out a small sigh of relief. "Finally, something to make this feel less like a torture session."

Elena gave a polite bow before turning to leave.

Without wasting any time, Luzia reached for a pastry, savoring the first bite as if it were a reward for enduring the day. Soon, she was steadily making her way through the snacks, her focus entirely on the little pockets of sweetness before her.

Ramiro tried to focus on the stack of papers in front of him, his quill scratching lazily across the page. But every now and then, his eyes would flicker toward Luzia. She was perched on the sofa, munching on cookies with the kind of focus only snacks could inspire.

'Stop looking at her,' he scolded himself, biting the inside of his cheek. 'You have work to do.'

He dipped his quill again, only to glance up when Luzia noisily crunched another cookie. His lips pressed into a thin line. 'I just want to watch her eat. Is that weird? That's weird. I'm weird.'

Meanwhile, Luzia's eyes scanned the study, darting from shelf to shelf. Her mind was far from the snacks she was devouring. 'Why did that person from my vision came here? And what was that crystal thing they took? I can't just ask Ramiro...'

She sighed, a heavy exhale that sounded far too dramatic for someone surrounded by cookies.

Ramiro's head snapped up like a hound catching a scent. He stared at her, his brow furrowing. Luzia was holding a half-eaten cookie in her hand and staring at it like it had insulted her ancestors.

'Is she bored already?' Ramiro thought, horror creeping into his chest.

"You're bored, aren't you?" he said suddenly, setting his papers aside with the subtlety of a landslide. "Let's go somewhere else."

Luzia blinked, quickly popping the rest of the cookie into her mouth and hopping off the sofa. "Before we go anywhere," she said, brushing crumbs off her fingers, "why did you make me get ready so early?"

"Because I want to spend time with you today," Ramiro replied, his voice brimming with sincerity. He crouched down to her level, spreading his arms wide. "Don't you want to spend time with your dear father?"

Luzia stared at him, her face blank, her thoughts very loud. 'I don't want to.'

"What's wrong?" Ramiro's voice wobbled with an edge of heartbreak, tears forming in his eyes. His lower lip quivered dangerously. "You don't want to hug Daddy?"

Luzia's jaw clenched as she felt the unmistakable surge of his magic aura flaring around them. The air grew heavier, and she swore she saw the bookshelves tremble.

'Oh no. Not again.' Her eye twitched. 'Why does he cry over the smallest things?'

She shuffled forward reluctantly, patting his shoulder before wrapping her arms around him. "It's not that I didn't want to hug you, Dad," she said, her voice painfully sweet. "I was just… shy."

Ramiro's magic dissipated instantly, and he smiled, all sunshine and rainbows. "Oh, that makes sense! You're still adjusting to having me as your father!"

'No, that's not it at all,' Luzia thought grimly, patting his back twice in an unspoken signal to let go. She began to pull away, only for Ramiro to sweep her up in his arms like she weighed nothing.

Her face turned scarlet. "Dad! What are you doing?!"

"Carrying my daughter," he said matter-of-factly, holding her snugly.

"Why?!" she demanded, squirming in his hold.

"Why not?" he countered, already striding toward the door.

Luzia buried her face in her hands. 'This man is a menace.'