"Father?!"
Before I could even take a step back, I was lifted off the ground, strong arms wrapping around me like a vice.
"Well, if it isn't my adorable cuddlebug!"
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
A squeak of protest barely left my lips before I was crushed into the kind of hug that could probably break ribs.
"Ahhh! No way! Put me down!" I flailed, my feet dangling helplessly in the air as my father spun me around like I weighed absolutely nothing.
This was not what I expected.
This was the man described in the novel as a fearsome, battle-hardened warrior—a noble lord with influence reaching the farthest corners of the kingdom. A man whose mere presence commanded respect. A figure so rarely present in the original storyline that I had almost forgotten about him entirely.
But right now?
Right now, the great and formidable Duke Vandren was hugging me like I was a child again, his deep laugh rumbling through his chest as if this were the happiest moment of his life.
I sputtered, trying to push away. "F-Father, I'm not a kid anymore! Put me down!"
"Nonsense!" he boomed, spinning me one more time before finally setting me down—but not letting go. His hands landed firmly on my shoulders, eyes bright with joy as he took a good, long look at me.
"Just look at you!" he grinned, ruffling my hair like I wasn't a fully grown academy student. "It's been far too long! You've grown so much! But you're still my precious little cuddlebug!"
I groaned, shoving his hands away, trying to fix my now messy hair. "Father, please, you're embarrassing me!"
My mother chuckled, clearly enjoying my suffering. "Now, now, dear. Let her breathe."
"Never!" My father crossed his arms dramatically, as if declaring war. "I've been away for far too long! I have so many hugs to make up for!"
I was never going to survive this.
"Speaking of which—" He suddenly turned dead serious, his gaze sharp and assessing as he scanned me up and down. "You haven't been overworking yourself, have you? Eating properly? Sleeping enough?"
I froze.
"Uh…"
My mother raised a brow, arms folding gracefully across her chest. "Sera?"
I immediately looked away. "Y-yeah! Totally! Of course! Haha…"
They weren't buying it.
My father's eyes narrowed. "Have you been stressing yourself out again?"
"N-no…"
"Sera…"
His voice was dangerously gentle. Too gentle.
I was about to be smothered again.
"Oh no you don't!" I backpedaled quickly, hands up. "I said I'm fine! Really! You don't have to—"
But it was too late.
The next thing I knew, I was being crushed in another bear hug.
"MY POOR, OVERWORKED BABY!"
I let out a high-pitched shriek. "MOTHER! HELP!"
Eleanor only sipped her tea, completely unfazed. "You brought this upon yourself, dear."
This was it.
I was going to die by parental affection.
And the worst part?
This was only his first day back.
And somehow, I was already exhausted.
After what felt like forever, I was finally allowed a moment of peace—meaning my father had reluctantly released me from his rib-crushing embrace. I slumped into my chair at the dinner table, barely recovering, while he sat across from me, looking far too pleased with himself.
"So?" he leaned forward, arms resting on the table. "How has everything been so far?"
I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Well… lots of things, actually."
That was an understatement.
Where did I even start?
Should I talk about the chaos of the academy? The ridiculous events I'd been thrown into? The fact that I had somehow managed to entangle myself with five very persistent and infatuated heroines? The fact that the original villainess of this world was now haunting my mind like a personal ghost mentor?
Or perhaps I should casually mention that monsters were now becoming a major threat at the North Gate?
Yeah, no.
My father watched me carefully, waiting. His piercing gaze felt like it could read my soul. And knowing him, it probably could.
"Well?" he prompted.
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts. "Oh! Uh—y'know, just school stuff."
He narrowed his eyes. "School stuff?"
"Yep. Normal, everyday school stuff."
A long pause.
Then—
"You're lying."
I choked on my water. "I am not!"
"You hesitated," he said matter-of-factly, leaning back in his chair. "And you only hesitate when you're either hiding something or when you're about to say something incredibly stupid."
Wow. Thanks, Dad. Really appreciate that.
My mother chuckled softly, watching us with amusement. "Now, now, dear. If Sera doesn't want to talk about it, she doesn't have to."
My father huffed, crossing his arms. "I still don't like it. If anything—or anyone—is bothering you, you should always tell me, understood?"
I swallowed, suddenly feeling… guilty.
It wasn't that I didn't want to tell him. It was just hard to explain. How could I possibly sit here and tell my father—the powerful, intimidating, doting Duke Vandren—that his daughter was actually not his daughter? That I was a completely different person, inhabiting her body? That the original Sera Vandren was still very much present in my mind, and oh yeah, she might be a bigger mystery than I originally thought?
There was no way I could drop all of that casually over dinner.
So, instead, I just smiled—probably a little too quickly. "Of course, Father! If anything comes up, you'll be the first to know!"
He squinted.
I smiled harder.
More silence.
Then he sighed, shaking his head. "You're still a terrible liar."
"Love you too, Dad."
"Unbelievable."
My mother chuckled again, reaching over to pat my head. "You really have grown, though. I can see it."
I blinked. "Huh?"
She smiled warmly. "Your presence. The way you carry yourself. You're different. More… sure of yourself."
I tensed slightly.
Did she notice? Could she tell I wasn't the same? That I wasn't her Sera?
I forced a laugh, waving off the thought. "Well, you know… character development and all."
My father raised a brow. "Character what?"
"Nothing!" I coughed, quickly stuffing food in my mouth.
"Suspicious," he muttered, still watching me.
I sighed, defeated.
This was going to be a long dinner.
My parents were both staring at me—waiting, expectant, relentless.
I could feel the pressure of their gaze weighing down on me like I was being interrogated for a crime I hadn't even committed.
"Okay, fine!" I huffed, throwing my hands in the air. "It's probably because of the five friends I made at school."
The room fell silent.
Then—
"Eh?" My mother blinked, as if I had just casually announced that I had discovered a new continent. "You made friends?"
"Character development indeed." My father nodded sagely, arms crossed, completely serious.
I twitched.
"Don't think so lowly of me!" I groaned.
My mother giggled, covering her mouth with her delicate hand, while my father just chuckled under his breath. He was clearly entertained.
"Who are they?" he asked, leaning forward, eyes glinting with curiosity. "Tell us about them."
I paused.
Well… that was the question, wasn't it?
How exactly was I supposed to explain them?
"They're…" I trailed off, searching for the right words. "They're… interesting."
My father raised a brow. "Interesting?"
"Yes. Very interesting."
My mother tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
I took a deep breath. "Okay, let's see… There's Lillian. She's—uh, well, a princess. The princess. Of the entire kingdom."
Both of my parents froze.
I quickly continued before they could react. "Then there's Camille, she's calm, graceful, a total ice queen but not in a bad way. And then there's Diana, who's basically too smart for her own good and always plotting something. Claire is… well, Claire. Think endless energy and chaotic optimism, and finally, Tessa. She's—uh, she's kind of like a cool, mysterious lone wolf, but also terrifying when she wants to be."
Silence.
I stared at my parents.
They stared back.
Then my father spoke, voice deadpan.
"So… You're telling me that you, my daughter, have somehow surrounded yourself with a princess, a genius mastermind, an ice queen, a chaotic gremlin, and a dangerously mysterious lone wolf?"
"That about sums it up, yes."
My father sighed, rubbing his temples. "I feel like I should be concerned."
My mother, on the other hand, looked delighted.
"Oh, how wonderful! You've made such strong and talented friends!" she beamed. "I can't wait to meet them!"
I choked. "Wait, what?"
My father just grunted. "I suppose it's better than you having no friends at all…"
I scowled. "Again—why does everyone think I'm so socially incompetent?"
"It's not that, dear," my mother reassured with a giggle. "It's just… well, you've always kept to yourself."
Right. Because the original Sera Vandren was infamously closed-off, calculating, and cold.
I sighed, slumping into my chair. "Well, things change."
My father gave me a long look. "That, they do," he murmured, too knowingly.
I didn't like the way he said that.
Before I could question him, my mother clapped her hands together, clearly thrilled.
"So, when do we get to meet them?"
I nearly spit out my drink. "Huh?!"
"You heard her," my father said, smirking. "We should invite them over sometime."
I wanted to die.
What had I just done?