Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 81

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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 81. Side Story: Kazelnu Lorowi, Lutia’s Younger Sister (2)
My sister died. Mother cast the Marquess title upon me like discarding trash and departed for the battlefield. I became the Lorowi Marquis. The household staff still called Mother “Your Excellency” and addressed me as “Miss,” but I felt no disappointment. It was expected. Since I had harbored no expectations, I could not be let down.
But I had more pressing matters. Beyond the actual authority of the Marquess House, beyond the name Kazelnu Lorowi, something else demanded my priority.
I gained Vishnabel Lorowi Kisomalos. The Emperor appointed me as the Princess’s tutor.
They said I would raise her well since she was blood kin—but my sister and I didn’t share a single drop of blood. Anyone with eyes could see that. Were they fools?
“Auntie! Auntie!”
The child, abandoned by both mother and father, clung to me desperately. It was my first time receiving such unconditional love. Even when I did nothing, Pisha adored me. Being loved was a pleasant experience. So I loved Pisha in return.
From the Princess Palace’s environment to selecting tutors and planning curricula, I devoted myself entirely. As I poured such effort into raising Pisha, greed began to take root.
Pisha loved me unconditionally. If I taught her the habits of my sister and mother, wouldn’t she then shower me with the affection they never gave?
“Pisha! Did you see your father? If you heard any filthy words, you should wash your ears clean.”
This was Mother’s habit—something she’d usually say when dismissing my words as nonsense. But Pisha would take my words to heart. Because she loved me. And she would display this habit when rejecting disagreeable people. The mere thought delighted me.
“Marquis Lorowi. I was thinking of teaching the Princess the Kisomalos script starting today.”
“What? You’re saying Pisha still can’t read?”
“Yes. I apologize, but since the Empress passed away, she has been left to her own devices…”
“My sister was reading books at that age. Have her read fairy tales.”
“But she doesn’t even know the letters.”
“Do as I say!”
Pisha was slow to learn, whoever she took after. This amused me greatly. I could assign her the same tasks my sister had accomplished and watch as my sister’s daughter failed at them. This was one of the few entertainments my life afforded. I had never experienced a more enjoyable pastime.
The rosewood furniture my sister had loved, the heavy writing implements—I gave them all to Pisha. The desk was difficult for a child’s small frame to sit at, and the writing tools were cumbersome to use, so Pisha quickly lost interest in studying.
Instead of studying, I told her many stories about the firearms catalogs and tank tales my sister had enjoyed. Pisha loved these stories dearly. As my sister’s daughter, it was only fun if she resembled her in some way.
“Pisha! Your mother solved math problems at your age in an instant! And she was even good at knitting!”
“Oh, I guess I don’t take after Mother! And what does knitting have to do with anything!”
“Do you know? To be good at knitting, you need strong mathematical thinking!”
I didn’t know if that was true or not. I was simply repeating what my sister had said. In any case, watching Pisha struggle and fail to keep pace with my sister’s learning speed was utterly adorable, hilarious, endearing, and entertaining.
Whether my education was working or not, as Pisha grew, she increasingly resembled my sister and mother. Yet she possessed abilities far inferior to my sister’s, and was a child incomparably weaker than Mother.
She resembled Mother and my sister, but this powerless child followed only me. It was truly delightful. Sometimes I wondered if I was being cruel to her, but… what was wrong with venting the suffering I had endured? I was human too. Didn’t everyone deserve some refuge when life was hard?
And Pisha, having learned Mother and my sister from me, showed me their behaviors and habits while loving me. I was happy. If I could be repaid even in this way, that was enough. I was adequately content.
I needed only Pisha. I truly believed this with all my heart.
Then one day, a man named Chiron arrived at the Imperial Palace, killed the Emperor, and protected the Princess. From that moment on, everything changed. Pisha began following Chiron, and I was cast out as her tutor. The Princess transformed.
When did it start? When did Pisha begin speaking so coherently? When did she become so assertive? She judged on her own, rejected her biological father, and elevated Chiron to Emperor?
That couldn’t be right. There’s no way Pisha accomplished something as remarkable as what Lutia did, all on her own!
It made no sense. Just recently, Pisha was simply stupid. She couldn’t read a single simple character from a fairy tale and would burst into tears, calling for her auntie. Yet now she was reading contracts and law codes fluently, receiving formal lessons to inherit the throne.
This couldn’t continue. Pisha had to remain incompetent, had to depend on me.
“Pisha! I’m your auntie!”
“The entry of Kazelnu Lorowi into the Princess Palace is hereby strictly forbidden.”
Pisha drifted further from me. To remain by her side, I fought Aelset over the position of the Princess’s tutor, but after a year of attrition, we realized we had fallen into the Princess’s trap.
It was around this time that Mother began taking interest in the existence called Vishnabel Lorowi Kisomalos.
Mother found it fascinating when she witnessed the day I was deceived by Pisha and engaged in full-scale warfare with Aelset. Of course, at the time, she thought this scheme came not from Pisha’s mind but from the new Emperor’s, and she praised him highly, saying he acted like Lutia.
As the conflict with Aelset dragged on and talk of establishing an Air Force in Kisomalos emerged, Mother decided to abandon her campaign and made the decision to go observe the Capital.
It seemed she had grown eager to see Pisha and the Emperor with her own eyes.
Whatever happened after that, Mother even invited Pisha to the Lorowi Territory. She threw a tantrum insisting that I had to be there whenever Pisha visited, so I returned to the Marquess Estate with a light heart—but then this happened.
When I saw Pisha after so long, I couldn’t hide my astonishment. The shell was unmistakably that insufferable Kisomalos child, yet it was as if my sister had taken residence inside her, spouting off battlefield common sense without hesitation. Mother seemed pleased by this, showing her around the Lorowi History Museum and even attempting to display the family heirlooms. And then, ultimately, this situation unfolded.
“Pisha.”
“*Cough!*”
“*Pfft!*”
The Chief Chamberlain choked on her drink at Mother’s shocking words. I spat out the water I’d been drinking.
“Won’t you succeed the Lorowi line?”
“*Hack.*”
Pisha clutched her chest as if she had indigestion.
I asked Mother just to be sure—was she going to adopt Pisha into our family? Mother shook her head and said she would pass down the qualifications of the legitimate Lorowi bloodline and the position of Marquess to Pisha.
What is this? I’ve struggled my entire life. And she’s going to give away everything to Pisha just because she said a few things that sounded like my sister? This can’t happen to me. It simply can’t. I was so angry at Mother, who only looked for my sister, that I burned down the Dining Hall with the power of explosion and stormed out.
I don’t know how time passed after that. Pisha went to the Lorowi Private Army’s Training Facility with her friends and played around looking at tanks with unchildlike enthusiasm. She was just like my sister in her childhood. If my sister were to come back to life, wouldn’t she be like that?
I wasn’t the only one thinking this, because Mother was smiling softly as she watched Pisha. That woman, who hadn’t worn such a gentle smile even once since my sister died, was now beaming with affection for her granddaughter.
I screamed my entire life. Please, look at me. Please recognize me as Lorowi. Please treat me as one person to another. That woman, who wouldn’t listen even when I cried until blood came from my throat, was smiling simply because Pisha was Lutia’s child.
What is my life? Swayed by such people, suffering, hurting—why have I lived like this? How did Pisha, by what means, capture Mother’s heart so easily? If there’s anything I could learn, I want to be taught.
I would kneel and beg. I wish you would teach me. Pisha, please, what should I do? This is too hard. I hate you. I want to kill you. I wish you had never existed.
My beloved niece, whom I love so dearly. You should never have been born from the start.
My beloved niece. You should never have been born from the start.

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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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