Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 80

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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 80. Side Story: Kazelnu, Lutia’s Younger Sister (1)
I am Kazelnu Lorowi, the younger sister of Lutia Lorowi. There was a time when this title filled me with pride. There was a time.
I first sensed something was amiss after attending a gathering with the noble children of the Fiefdom. Everyone introduced me as “that person, the younger sister of Lutia.” Shouldn’t they have called me the second daughter of House of Lorowi instead? Or perhaps there was no real difference between the two?
Without even understanding why I felt displeased, I brought the matter up with Mother. But Mother simply said:
“You are Lutia’s younger sister, are you not? Is that not obvious?”
And then she went off to clean her ears. It was obvious enough, I suppose, yet something felt off. Why was it so? Why was I Lutia’s younger sister rather than the second daughter of the Marquess? Would being called the Marquess’s second daughter make me more impressive? That didn’t seem to be the case. I imagined it, but my mood didn’t improve at all.
So I asked my sister about why this felt strange. She knew so many things I didn’t.
“You worried over something so trivial? How pathetic.”
In any case, everyone in this household clearly suffered from a disease that killed them if they spoke more than three sentences.
Of course, my sister is an extraordinary person. She might well think my concerns trivial. As for my sister, Lutia Lorowi, she was, in a word, so perfectly suited to Lorowi that one could say she was born for it.
Mastery of both the literary and martial arts! Marksmanship touched by spirits! Command ability that transcends age! Even that cold manner of speech inherited from Mother!
I know my sister is adopted, but understanding that she possesses such talents, I reasoned that Mother must have brought her in for that reason. And adoption is sacred and noble—often bearing even greater legitimacy than blood relations. After all, even the ancestral spirits of each household use the word “adoption” when selecting children to protect.
When I was young, I thought that as I grew, I too could become like Mother or my sister. But things did not go as I wished. That realm belonged to talent, and it was somewhat… difficult to imitate.
Still, I was, for all intents and purposes, of Lorowi. I could wield the divine power of explosions as befitted Lorowi, and later I could support my sister when she became the Marquess and be of use to her.
So I made the effort. I studied hard and trained diligently, wanting to become a proper member of Lorowi who could pull her own weight. If I could do that, then surely Mother and my sister would…
“…?”
But why was I thinking such things? Even without effort, if you were born into Lorowi, weren’t you a person of Lorowi? These thoughts kept surfacing, and then one day, a shock like my head shattering and a sudden realization came to me.
“This way, Lady Lutia.”
It was the day a party was held at the Imperial Palace. My sister’s eyes gleamed when she saw some strange fellow who was apparently the Emperor’s Son, but that hardly mattered. The incident occurred on the way back to the Townhouse after the party ended.
The driver who had come to pick us up in the automobile opened the rear door and guided my sister inside. And to me, he extended his hand.
“Please watch your step, Miss.”
What? Why was my sister “Lady Lutia” while I was merely “Miss”? He only opened the door for my sister, so why did I need his escort and helping hand?
Why? Why was that? Why was I just “Miss”?
I was always Lutia’s younger sister, the Marquess’s second daughter, Miss, you, over there.
Why did no one ever call me by my name?
Yes, that was it. My name was Kazelnu. No one in the Estate ever called me by my name. I had finally understood.
“Mother! Sister!”
I told Mother and my sister what I had realized. Both of them sneered.
“Kazelnu, Kazelnu, Kazelnu. Are you satisfied now?”
“What a pointless thing to concern yourself with, Kazelnu.”
No, that’s not what I meant! It’s not about hearing my name once! I was trying to say that I have no place in this household!
They paid no attention to my plea. They deemed it worthless. They ignored me and laughed it off. Was it always just me being serious? Was I the only one being oversensitive? Was this truly all there was—my useless worries and delusions?
I felt like I was going mad. As things stood, I could never truly belong to Lorowi. Mother and my sister clashed and fought often, but that was because they regarded each other as equals.
I could never be equal to my sister for my entire life. I could never fight with Mother. It was because I was weak. I was not true to Lorowi, and I was a being meant to be protected.
When Mother and my sister’s opinions clashed, they opposed each other. They fought. But I was disciplined. Where did this difference come from?
If this was how it would be, they should never have had me. After adopting my sister, they should have just lived the two of them for a thousand years—why did they even give birth to me?
Perhaps I should leave the household. Perhaps I should marry and never return to Lorowi again. I considered many possibilities, but in the end, I could not act on any of them.
I wanted to be acknowledged. I didn’t need anyone else’s recognition. I only needed Mother and my sister to acknowledge me. If only that could happen, I needed nothing else. Because I loved them. As much as I loved Mother and my sister, I desperately wished for them to recognize me.
If I tried hard enough, would they eventually see me? No, even if I lived my entire life, they would never respect me. I continued to waver. Wavering, being neither one thing nor another, I lived on in Lorowi.
Then one day, my sister married off to the Emperor’s Son of Kisomalos. Mother, who had invested her entire life in raising her eldest daughter, suffered greatly at losing her in an instant. She made threats and spoke of waging all-out war against Kisomalos.
But my sister didn’t bat an eye. She countered threats with threats, saying she’d meet the Imperial Army if they raised the private soldiers. She was truly Lorowi’s greatest masterpiece. Mother eventually surrendered, and I found the sight honestly satisfying. After raising her so tenderly, watching her get backstabbed was amusing. And I harbored hope.
With my sister gone, wouldn’t Mother grow attached to me? Since I had no choice but to succeed as heir, wouldn’t she treat me with respect?
That expectation was only half correct. Mother gave me heir education as a precaution, but she never relinquished her obsession with my sister.
“That child will return. She’s my daughter, after all.”
Mother really is remarkable—she uses lines that would only belong in a novel’s famous dialogue in her everyday speech. Though I must admit, they suit her well.
In any case, I studied to inherit the Lorowi Private Army and House of Lorowi. It was grueling, but equally rewarding. If I succeeded brilliantly as Marquess, both Mother and my sister would see me differently. That’s what I believed.
But even after my sister left Lorowi, married, became part of Kisomalos, and bore Kisomalos’s child, Mother never gave up on her. The Lorowi Marquis never granted me the seal of legitimacy either. As long as my sister lived, I could never be the true heir.
I wished she would just die.
There was a time I thought such things. But I didn’t mean it sincerely. I didn’t mean it sincerely, yet my sister truly did die.
“Wh…?”
At first, I thought it was a lie. But when I went to the Capital, they were holding my sister’s funeral.
“What?”
There was even an urn. They said my sister had burned to death, so cremation was unavoidable. It’s true she’d been ill frequently after giving birth, and she wouldn’t see me even when I requested a visit. But she wasn’t someone who should have died like this.
It felt like a dream. Could my luck really be this good? It was a nightmare like no other. My sister couldn’t have died this way, so simply. My chest felt completely relieved.
I was sad. She was my beloved sister. I pitied myself for losing her so much. I wept bitterly from the sorrow. Mother didn’t shed a single tear even though my sister was dead. I expected as much. I knew it would be like this. How pathetic. Both of them are utterly ridiculous.
“Sob, sob sob.”
After seeing my sister off, I continued weeping. I was sad. I even met the child my sister left behind. She bore no resemblance to my sister whatsoever. Golden hair, eyes like pink petals. There wasn’t a trace of my sister in her.
Mother should have seen this. How furious she must be.
“Ha, haha.”
Holding my sister’s child, I wept miserably. My heart felt hollow and empty. My heart felt light, as if it might float away.

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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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