Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 70

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 70. At most Maternal Family Homes, one receives Maternal Grandmother’s secret weapon. Ours was marinated flounder. (1)
“Your mother chose death of her own volition.”
Everyone in the nation knew my mother had attempted to die alongside Father and failed. What nonsense was this? More than anything, my mother was the type to choose her own path. She never bent to another’s will. Since this was an insult to my mother, I confronted my Maternal Grandmother boldly.
“My daughter bore His Majesty and fell ill. You killed her, did you not?”
“If the illness couldn’t be cured, blame the physicians. If she couldn’t rest properly, blame Helbatro. Why are you flinging sparks at me?”
She spoke strangely and made people feel terrible. Mother had been ill, but she never blamed me—not even Helbatro. If I had to guess, she’d chosen mutual destruction because she feared Father would take another woman and live happily once she was gone.
Indeed, after Mother died, Helbatro went around meeting women shamelessly.
“Hmm.”
The Chamberlain in mourning clothes regarded me with interest, then called for Father the Emperor.
“Usually, when children hear their mother died because of them, don’t they cry?”
“Were you trying to make me cry?”
“You look exactly like Helbatro, so I thought it might work.”
“Ah, he would have cried.”
What were these two talking about that I didn’t know!
Having received nothing but insults from my Maternal Grandmother whom I’d just met, I kicked the ground in frustration, and the Head Attendant Grandmother appeared with a flourish and scooped me into her arms.
“You are being disrespectful to the Princess. You dishonor the late Empress as well.”
“Who else in the Imperial Palace will speak of my daughter’s death if not I?”
This grandmother spoke words sharp as thorns because of her lost daughter.
Had our family been ordinary rather than the Imperial Family, my Maternal Grandmother’s words would have been entirely justified for a mother who’d lost a child.
It was true that my mother developed toxemia during pregnancy with me, true that the treatment window was missed, true that Helbatro was garbage and Mother died alone after their failed suicide pact.
Of course, all these unpleasant facts were being hushed up in the Imperial Palace. By the same logic, my death sentence by immolation against Helbatro was officially a secret.
“Not that you’re particularly sad about it.”
“Hm?”
Displeased with my Maternal Grandmother’s attitude, I muttered quietly, and she deliberately caught my words and approached me.
“Do you think parents who’ve lost a child wouldn’t be sad?”
“No, normally they would be, but…”
Looking at my mother, my Aunt, and my grandmother, common sense simply didn’t apply to this household.
Unable to grasp how to explain this, I clumsily conveyed my thoughts.
“If my Maternal Grandmother died, my mother wouldn’t cry.”
“Why not?”
“Well, um, that’s… she’s just that kind of person.”
Because of that temperament, she’d had no friends and had even married that hotheaded Helbatro. Perhaps I understood Mother better than you, who spent your whole life with her? I had the ability to understand and empathize with others.
“Hmm.”
“And the children around me don’t think much even when blamed for their mother’s death.”
Were you holding onto outdated information because of your age? When I asked Shirley and Croa the same question to confirm, the little ones eagerly shared their thoughts.
“When asked such a question, my first thought is, ‘What am I supposed to do about it?'”
“Isn’t it natural to die when your time comes?”
Shirley’s answer was one thing, but Croa, you’re quite callous. Well, having been raised in the Media Royal Family, such values were natural.
“Interesting children.”
“Don’t set your sights on them. I claimed them first.”
Father, the Emperor, stepped forward in front of us because he was worried the children would be taken away. Wow, I’ve never seen Prisoner panic like this before.
“It’s quite common for the Imperial grandchild to be sent to the Maternal Family Home for a time, to broaden their horizons.”
“Sending her there won’t broaden her horizons—it’ll narrow them.”
“Why do you always have to obstruct me?”
“Don’t you think you’re the one constantly obstructing me?”
I’d never seen Prisoner lose an argument before. Even my Maternal Grandmother seemed to find such an opponent rare, regarding him with a nostalgic expression.
“The current Emperor is….”
“…?”
“Just like my daughter.”
“You crazy woman!”
Oh my! The Emperor should only speak prettily! I understand the sentiment, but it’s hardly appropriate for someone of imperial rank to say such things at a banquet hosted by the former Marquis.
As I glanced around nervously and made a zipping motion across my lips, Prisoner mimicked me, pinching his lips shut with his fingers.
“There are things I need to confirm, so let me take the child to Lorowi Mansion for a time. You won’t have grounds to refuse.”
“Vishnabel’s safety is my grounds. Who knows what those Lorowi people might do.”
“I’ll keep her for just a few days and send her back safely. I can even write one of those contracts Your Majesty is so fond of.”
“Bring three thousand contracts. Then I’ll consider it.”
As Prisoner scoffed and exercised his veto, my Maternal Grandmother murmured once more, “Indeed, she takes after Lutia.” Hearing this, Prisoner seemed quite irritated and reached toward his waist for a weapon, only to realize he had none and awkwardly opened and closed his empty hand.
“You were just looking for a gun to shoot me, weren’t you?”
“What of it?”
“Indeed, there must be hidden blood ties to my daughter….”
Father, the Emperor, was absolutely furious, but then he played his trump card—the one that would end this in an instant. That card was me.
“Let Vishnabel decide. In matters like this, her own wishes are what matter most.”
My Maternal Grandmother seemed to think this was an unfavorable condition and tried to protest, but I didn’t give her the chance. With firm resolve that I didn’t want to go to the Maternal Family Home, I explained my reasons thoroughly.
“Grandmother’s bathroom smells bad.”
….
Hehehehe.
The Head Attendant Grandmother, apparently not expecting me to bring up the bathroom, handed me over to Father, the Emperor, and struggled mightily to suppress her laughter.
My Maternal Grandmother, who had been standing there slack-jawed, shook her head to clear her thoughts and insisted that the Marquis’s bathroom was perfectly clean.
“The servants clean it thoroughly every day. It’s not dirty.”
“Who uses pit toilets anymore?”
“A bathroom only needs to serve its function.”
“The Imperial Palace bathrooms have bidets with warm water.”
“If you need such things, you can have the servants do it.”
“You say the exact same things as Aunt! It’s disgusting!”
They really are blood relatives. When my Maternal Grandmother said the same things as my Aunt, I was so disgusted that I launched a personal attack, and she staggered, complaining of dizziness.
“I’m the same as Kazelnu?”
“Aunt said the same thing! She said she’d help me personally! You’re both awful!”
“No, I didn’t say I’d do it personally….”
Grandmother rambled incoherently, then squeezed her eyes shut and held her forehead. She seemed to have received quite a shock.
“Kheup, hehehehe, hehehehe, hehehehe.”
The Head Attendant Grandmother had been stifling her laughter until now, but she’s actually crying. Did she have that much pent up against my Maternal Grandmother? She seems absolutely delighted.
“The banquet was quite enjoyable. I shall visit you properly next time, Your Majesty, Your Highness.”
Ohhhhh! I’ve defeated the Chamberlain!
As I thrust my right arm up and let out a triumphant cheer, applause erupted. At first, only my friends, Father, and the Chief Chamberlain clapped, but the applause spread like wildfire until everyone in the Banquet Hall rose to their feet in standing ovation. Someone even had the audacity to whistle, but today is a good day, so I’ll let it slide.
“Ha, phew, that was magnificent. I’ve never seen that Chamberlain leave empty-handed like that before.”
“Chief Chamberlain, can you really speak so casually here?”
“This is a private gathering, isn’t it?”
“The Imperial Palace Banquet Hall is a private gathering?”
“Well, I’m an Imperial Palace Servant, aren’t I?”
Oh, the logic is almost convincing—almost. But couldn’t one argue that anything happening in the Imperial Palace, since it’s where Imperial Palace workers operate, is official business? It’s the kind of circular reasoning that makes you want to object, but Prisoner seemed genuinely concerned for my wellbeing.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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