bioinnovel Chapter 142 Father is the best
Chapter 142 Father is the best
The royal city of Losaran, Britanbell.
The sky was azure, and the endless sea stretched as far as the eye could see.
As the heart of the Kingdom of Lotharan and the most dazzling jewel on the entire eastern coast of Galantil, Britanbel's prosperity is fluid, bustling, and full of vitality.
On the main road of Britanbell.
Pedestrians hurried by, but when they saw the tall man leading the Royal Guard of Lotharan, they all consciously made way for him.
They stopped in their tracks, put down their work, and cast awe, pride, or curiosity toward their king. Many commoners even bowed or bent over in respect.
"Father, you're finally back."
A little girl with bright blue hair saw the man and ran towards him with a happy expression.
"Your Highness, please mind your image." The butler beside her hurriedly followed and carefully protected her.
"Tch, I don't want to learn any court etiquette. I want to be a great hero like my father." The little girl turned around and made a playful face, but her steps didn't slow down at all.
She looked only fourteen or fifteen years old, but her stunning beauty was already undeniable.
Like a fledgling bird returning to its nest, she fearlessly rushed into Charlie's broad and warm embrace.
Although the little girl was developing well, she still looked rather petite next to Charlie, who was as tall as an iron tower.
"Hahaha! Vivian, my daughter, you've grown taller again." Ironhead Charlie—this war maniac who was so imposing in the council chamber—now had a gentler face, his crimson-gold eyes filled with undisguised doting affection, and he rarely showed a kind, fatherly smile.
"Of course!"
"I've followed all the teacher's instructions diligently! I've been exercising every day, and..."
Vivian lifted her head in her father's arms and proudly puffed out her little chest.
"That milk from Albas is absolutely awful! It tastes worse than the bitterest medicine! But I force myself to drink it every day while holding my nose!"
When the topic of milk came up, she wrinkled her small nose and gave a look of heroic sacrifice.
"And my battle aura has now broken through to the intermediate level!"
Vivian stretched out her palm as if showing off, and light blue battle aura began to gather in her palm.
"Father, look how amazing I am!"
Vivian looked at Charlie with a hint of pride in her eyes, as if to say, "Praise me, praise me!"
Charlie looked at her adorable appearance and affectionately ruffled her hair: "Vivian is really amazing, even more amazing than her father was when he was young."
"What kind of reward is there?" Vivian looked at Charlie with hopeful eyes.
"Well?" Charlie stroked his chin and thought for a moment.
"How about I take Vivian to the city for a stroll and some good food?"
"Yay! Long live Father! Long live Father!!" Vivian jumped up and down happily, her skirt revealing her slender, fair legs, showing no trace of ladylike demeanor.
"Your Highness, please be mindful of court etiquette. The people are watching," the female steward beside her quickly advised, noticing the stares of the passersby.
"Hahaha, it's alright, Zola, as long as Vivian is happy," Charlie laughed and said.
"His Majesty the King still spoils Princess too much," Zola said with a helpless expression.
"My daughter, of course I will spoil her."
Charlie gently rubbed Vivian's head with his large hand.
Vivian crossed her arms in front of her chest, tilted her head slightly, and looked very proud.
However, after a moment, Vivian unusually showed a slightly shy expression.
"What's wrong, Vivian? Is there something you want to tell your father?" Charlie also noticed Vivian's unusual behavior.
Vivian clutched the hem of her skirt with her small hands, her tone tinged with a thank you and a hint of coquettishness: "When we're shopping, I want to ride on my father's shoulders."
Upon hearing this...
Before Charlie could answer, Zola exclaimed anxiously, "Absolutely not, Your Majesty! This would damage Your Majesty's dignity!"
"What's the big deal? It's not like I've never ridden one before." Charlie waved his hand, turned his back, and squatted down.
"Come on up, my little princess Vivian."
"Yay! Father is the best!"
Vivian's small feet stepped over Charlie's shoulders and she climbed on top of him.
"Are you seated securely?" Charlie asked with concern.
"Hold on tight!"
"Okay, I'm getting up now."
After saying that, Charlie stood up.
Vivian held Charlie's head in her arms, and her own head swayed happily.
"Edward, you take the guards back to the camp first. I'll take Vivian for a stroll in the streets," Charlie said to his adjutant beside him.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The adjutant, Edward, led the guards away.
"Go for it, Father!"
Vivian sat on Charlie's shoulders and pointed forward.
He has the air of someone commanding thousands of troops.
"Okay, okay." Charlie replied indulgently, carrying Vivian on his back, with the butler Zola following behind, and headed towards the food street.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.
Britanbell's food streets offer another form of vibrancy.
It was full of local vibrancy and enticing aromas.
The streets are narrower, but the flow of people is denser, with stalls lining both sides, and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares, cooking, and diners chatting and laughing constantly intertwined.
The aroma of grilled seafood, the richness of stewed meat broth, the sweetness of fresh fruit, and the scents of various spices and fried pastries fill the air, whetting the appetite.
Suddenly, Vivian's eyes were drawn to a stall not far away.
The stall owner's bundle of straw was covered with bunches of bright red, glistening fruits, all encased in a transparent, crystal-clear "ice shell" that sparkled in the sunlight.
"Father! Father! Look at that! It's red and shiny, I've never eaten it before! I want to eat that!" Vivian excitedly patted Charlie's shoulder and pointed to the candied hawthorn.
"Okay, okay." Charlie smiled and led his daughter toward the stall.
The stall owner was a kind-looking middle-aged man. When he saw the king and the princess riding on his shoulders approaching, he quickly put down his work and respectfully patted his chest and bowed: "Your Majesty, Your Highness, may the water god forever protect the sea and people of Lotharan."
"Bell, you don't have to be so formal every time."
"What new gadgets are you selling this time? They look pretty."
Charlie clearly knew the stall owner, and spoke in a friendly tone.
"Your Majesty, this is called candied hawthorn."
"The merchants say it's a new food invented by that recently famous prophet in the forest."
"A prophet?" Charlie raised a thick eyebrow, but didn't ask any further questions. "Oh? Three skewers, please, have a taste."
"Alright!" Bell deftly took down three of the best-looking candied hawthorn skewers and respectfully handed them over.
Charlie took them, first giving one to Vivian on his shoulder, then handing one to Zola behind him, and taking one for himself. "How much?"
"Your Majesty, you flatter me. It is my honor that you and the Princess would grace us with your presence and allow us to try it. How could I possibly accept payment?" Bell quickly waved his hand.
Upon hearing this, Charlie sighed and turned to Zora, saying, "Zora, the purse."
Zola immediately handed over a heavy leather money bag.
Charlie didn't even look at it. He took out three shiny silver coins from inside, tossed them casually, and the coins traced precise arcs, clinking softly before landing steadily in Belle's apron pocket.
"Too much! Too much, Your Majesty! This candied hawthorn skewer is only two copper coins!" Bell hurriedly tried to take out his money.
"This is a reward from me." Charlie took a bite of the candied hawthorn in his hand, and the sweet, sour, and crispy taste made him raise an eyebrow slightly.
Then he waved his hand at Bell, who was still trying to refuse, and said, "Take it if I give it to you, and don't give it back."
Having said that, he turned around and continued walking forward with Vivian in his arms.
"Father, this is so delicious!"
"Crispy and sweet on the outside, and tangy and chewy on the inside!"
Vivian took small bites of the candy shell, the sourness of the wild fruit inside neutralized by the sweet and crunchy outer shell, creating a wonderful taste that made her eyes squint into crescents with happiness.
"Delicious? Then I'll have Zola buy some and send them back to the palace for you later." Charlie was pleased to see his daughter's satisfied expression.
"Yay! Thank you, Father!"
Before she had gone far, Vivian's gaze was drawn to another stall.
There were several large earthenware jars on the ground, with clean wooden cups next to them. The stall owner was scooping out a dark purple, clear liquid from the jars and handing it to the customer.
"Father, Father! That! Purple water! It looks so pretty, I want to drink it!" Vivian had made another new discovery.
Charlie stopped and curiously examined the liquid: "What kind of rare drink is this?"
The vendor selling drinks was a young man. When the king asked, he bowed nervously and excitedly: "Your Majesty, this is called plum juice, and it is also... also refreshing and thirst-quenching."
"Sour plum drink? How come we've never seen it before?" Vivian licked the sugar residue from the corner of her mouth and asked curiously.
"Your Highness, this...this recipe also came from the Magic Forest."
"That 'prophet' revealed the method, saying that people can freely imitate and sell them, so they've only recently started appearing here," the vendor honestly replied.
"Another prophet?" Charlie murmured the name.
A complex glint flashed deep in his eyes, and he said, "Let's try three cups first."
"Yes! Ready in a minute!" The vendor deftly scooped out three cups of plum juice and respectfully served them.
Similarly, Charlie casually tossed three silver coins to the vendor, ignoring the vendor's exclamation of "Too much!", and then shared the plum juice with Vivian and Zola.
Vivian took the wooden cup and carefully sniffed it. A cool scent with a faint aroma of herbs and plums entered her nostrils.
She tentatively took a small sip; the cool liquid slid down her throat, perfectly balanced between sweet and sour, quenching her thirst and instantly dispelling the afternoon heat.
"Wow! It's so delicious! It's refreshing and sweet and sour!" Vivian's eyes widened in surprise, and she took another big gulp.
Then, turning to Charlie, she asked the question that had been lingering for a while: "Father, who exactly is this prophet? How come all the things he invents are so delicious?"
Charlie paused for a moment, holding the wooden cup. He tilted his head back and took a big gulp of the plum juice; the icy taste was indeed quite nice.
He paused for a moment, his gaze seemingly passing over the bustling streets and landing in the distant west, his voice steady yet carrying a certain strength: "Him... I suppose he's an enemy."
"The enemy?" Vivian blinked her azure eyes, seemingly not particularly surprised by the answer.
Vivian tilted her head and thought for a moment, then said excitedly, "Then... when you defeat him with your army, Father, could you capture him and bring him back?"
"Bring him back to be Vivian's personal chef! Make him cook me delicious food and drinks every day!"
"Hahaha!" Charlie burst into laughter at his daughter's innocent and whimsical idea.
He agreed indulgently, "Alright! Of course! Once Father wins the war, we'll capture that prophet and make him my little princess's personal cook!"
"Hehe, Father is so good!" Vivian happily swung her legs, holding a half-eaten candied hawthorn in one hand and a bowl of plum juice in the other, feeling like the happiest person in the world today.
Charlie smiled and took another sip of the plum juice, the cool and slightly astringent taste spreading in his mouth.
He looked up at the azure sky of Britanbell, a thought that only he himself could understand passing through his mind.
The prophet... Lynn?
An interesting person.
Unfortunately, we have different paths.