IBTHM Chapter 4

"Ah!"

The exclamation burst instinctively past my lips.

Even in my excitement, some fangirl instinct for maintaining cover remained, and I'd mentally resolved dozens of times to stay composed—but the moment I faced ten-year-old Abel, that determination melted away like ice cream on a summer day.

This was the first time I'd seen him this close.

Fine black hair and ruby-red eyes that gleamed brilliantly.

Chubby cheeks that hadn't yet lost their baby fat, and plump lips so adorable I wanted to kiss them.

Though he shared no blood with Hades, fortunately he resembled him enough that one could insist he was illegitimate.

Despite not sharing a single drop of blood, no one would dispute that he was Hades's child.

Remarkably, Abel looked like he would grow up to be his father's spitting image.

"Ahhh..."

Exclamations continued flowing from my reflexively opened mouth.

'Oh no.'

Unable to face Abel with my jaw hanging slack, I raised both hands to cover my mouth.

My expression soured slightly at my pathetic inability to remain composed despite having resolved to do so.

This... wasn't a dream, was it?

Having imagined the grown Abel's appearance while reading the novel, my impression upon encountering his far younger self was truly...

Hallelujah.

Libera's chorus Sanctus echoed in my ears, and the illusion of flower petals fluttering around Abel arose.

Ah, dazzling. So dazzling.

In the north with its dreary weather 365 days a year, sunshine rarely appeared, yet somehow inexplicable rays of light seemed to prevent me from properly admiring Abel's beautiful features.

My eyes reflexively narrowed and squinted.

Nevertheless, I earnestly scrunched up my face, struggling to find Abel's features through the blinding brightness.

When a single mass of light drawing steadily closer entered my field of vision—

In that moment, I offered thanks to God.

Now I could die without regrets.

O Lord, hallelujah once more.

"I, I..."

Abel's face remained hidden behind the mass of light, and only his flustered voice reached me.

In the aftermath of receiving my ultimate bias, my fragile body swayed and tilted.

"I say!"

Hades's startled voice rang out.

He supported my tilting body from behind with his firm arm.

"Are you all right? Were you that badly startled?"

"Ahhh..."

I couldn't quite hear what Hades was saying. It merely buzzed irritatingly in my ears like a swarm of bees.

With my eyes too dazzled, I remained caught in Hades's arms and raised my hand to shield my vision.

"Abel Ruvermonte."

A voice thick with anger.

That dreamlike, fleeting moment shattered with a crack at Hades's sharp interruption.

I was yanked back to reality in an instant.

"What are you dithering about? I told you to apologize for your rudeness."

Really, did his precious son's merely bursting through a door warrant such a stern expression?

Feeling a surge of indignation, I lowered my hand and glanced somewhat disapprovingly at Hades.

He was watching Abel with a frightening expression, as if delivering a lecture.

In truth, Abel's barging uninhibitedly through his father's office door was entirely Hades's fault.

As an avid reader, I knew better than anyone that he'd raised Abel like an indulgent, affectionate guardian—without painful etiquette lessons or stern scoldings.

Why he was suddenly pretending to be a strict father and managing his image remained a mystery.

Abel seemed slightly startled by his angry father's appearance.

He began hesitating, watching me nervously.

That flustered expression, lips trembling uncertainly...

Ah, damn it. Perfectly adorable. No existence anywhere could be more lovable than this.

The cause of death written on my tombstone would be none other than heart-stopping cuteness. Judging by the phantom thump of my dropping heart settling heavily in my ears.

"L-Lady Esclife. I didn't realize you were here and committed a rudeness. I apologize."

What's there to apologize for? What's there to apologize for!

You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. On the contrary, I'm thanking the heavenly deities that you've graced us with your presence—what could possibly warrant an apology?

...I wanted to comfort the tearful-looking Abel, but that wouldn't do.

I superhuman drew together my remaining shred of patience, firmly clenched my jaw against its desire to run wild and recklessly, and barely managed to respond.

"...It's fine."

After getting the words out, I felt slightly concerned.

My short, curt reply had come across as rather cold, even to my own ears.

Abel seemed to think the same—he couldn't meet my eyes and merely mumbled.

"I, I... The gift you sent previously—I received it gratefully. I should have expressed my thanks sooner, but I was late... Please forgive me."

Gasp. Startled, I instinctively swallowed and raised my hand to cover my mouth again.

My first tribute offering.

The gift he mentioned was the single sword I'd secretly sent to the ducal house.

A treasured sword from Santhkrya—a treasure from that already-fallen royal family, originally an item Abel would struggle terribly to obtain in his eighteenth year.

Knowing the story of how he'd be broken, torn, and injured obtaining it, I'd acquired it in Abel's stead.

I'd gone through some trouble tracking down that sword sleeping in some antique shop located somewhere in the ruined Santhkrya kingdom territory.

All fanatics' hearts are similar—we don't particularly expect our ultimate bias to acknowledge all the effort and hardship involved in the fangirling process.

I was the same—simply having Abel use the tribute I'd sent would satisfy me completely.

But, actually, right at this very moment—

Not only was Abel personally confirming receipt of the tribute, but simultaneously sending his thanks with that shy expression!

Ahhh...

Was this what it meant to be a successful fan?!

"Ah, my lady. The sword was actually sent to me, but it suited my son better, so I entrusted it to him. I hope you won't take offense."

Suddenly Hades interjected with an uncomfortable expression.

What on earth was this meddlesome father saying? Had he failed to read the recipient's name I'd carefully written on pretty stationery:

"To Abel Ruvermonte, Young Lord"?

This blasted excessive self-regard...

I turned to look at him with a slightly pitying expression.

"Go now, Abel. If you have business with me, come talk about it later."

The accursed Hades swiftly tried to send Abel away.

'No! Abel! Wait!'

Unfortunately, my inner thoughts didn't reach Abel.

He hesitated with an utterly apologetic expression, then bit his lip, bowed deeply, and quickly left the office.

"Many apologies, my lady."

"Ah, I..."

I couldn't bring myself to stop Abel as he departed.

The moment I saw his small stature and retreating figure—those still somewhat chubby, short legs—respiratory difficulty visited this pathetic body once more.

Still covering my mouth with my hand, I slowly began taking deep breaths.

Right, perhaps stepping back now was better than collapsing from a heart attack with him right before my eyes.

The aftereffects of actually meeting that perfect male lead Abel in person and exchanging words—though it wasn't much of a conversation—were truly tremendous.

More, far more amazing than I'd imagined. Abel's adorable childhood, that is.

If I could watch his childhood up close even a little more, I'd happily sell my soul to the devil—I'd entertained such absurd thoughts in that fleeting moment.

It was already this intense without having done anything yet? How much more would the sight of Abel's activities in the countless upcoming episodes make my heart race?

"You look unwell. I apologize once more for Abel's rudeness. Despite appearances, he's quite mature and kind for his age. Once you become close, you'll probably grow fond of him too..."

Hades's words lengthened. I could rather clearly guess what he was thinking.

If we married, I would become Abel's stepmother—he was probably worried I might find that disagreeable.

But how laughable. As for me—I was a woman who'd lived her past life with no other preoccupation than fangirling over male leads.

He had absolutely no need to worry about my giving Abel poor reviews—I was the most reliable person in that regard.

Rather, after receiving Abel's presence up close, my mind had gone completely blank and I'd even entertained impulsive thoughts.

"Let's continue. What were you saying? About our marriage..."

For an instant, I pictured Abel running toward me with that angelic face, calling out "Mother!" with a smile.

O Lord above.

"Perhaps... is there something troubling you? If it's because of my son..."

"No."

I smiled brightly and said:

"I'll be a good wife."

Actually, more than a good wife, I wanted to become the male lead's mother.

What position could be more convenient for fangirling than mother?

"That's what I came to tell you."