Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 84

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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 84. Misfortune Lies Everywhere (1)
A month had passed since my visit to Maternal Grandmother’s Estate. Whether she intended to carry the Marquess title I had wrested from my aunt for the rest of her life, Maternal Grandmother had not ascended to the Capital even after a month. The transfer of authority seemed to be taking an extraordinarily long time.
I had now reached a crisis where I needed to abandon the easier path of dealing with my aunt and instead confront Maternal Grandmother. What was I to do?
In any case, that was one matter, but the Air Force unit that Maternal Grandmother had proposed was such a brilliant stroke of genius that I eagerly confessed it to Father. Upon hearing this, Father made a thoroughly displeased face and sulked, refusing to even speak with me.
Apparently, Father had already been considering the Air Force unit. He had planned to surprise me by presenting additional reorganization plans at the Air Force founding ceremony, but Chamberlain had stolen his thunder by mentioning it first.
Seeing how they acted, they really did seem alike. How could they both arrive at the same concept through the keyword of Air Force?
But I managed not to show it. I am Princess Vishnabel, who learned white lies through the “Valuable Friends Incident,” after all. So I told Father a Princess lie.
Grandmother didn’t think of the runway. She’s completely foolish. Father is infinitely better. Since Father thought of it first, Father is the true genius. When I gave him sweet and pretty words, Father became elated and promised to show me the flying carrier once it was constructed.
Goodness, raising Father alone is this exhausting.
“I humbly beseech your forgiveness!”
But when I returned to the Princess Palace after finishing my conversation with Father, Emilies was on her knees making a scene.
Haven’t I caused any trouble recently? Why is she asking for my forgiveness? When I cautiously asked Emily why she was acting this way, the woman had tears glistening in her eyes and sorrowfully urged me to reflect upon my conduct.
“Please, I implore you to write a reply to the Prince of Astiages!”
“It pains me so that I cannot bear to watch!”
“Over a hundred letters have arrived for two years now!”
Ah, that. The first letter was so long that I postponed reading it, and eventually over a hundred accumulated? But isn’t it strange that he keeps sending letters even though I haven’t replied? He’s quite persistent.
“Pisha, if it troubles you, shall I read them and write replies on your behalf?”
“Huh?”
No matter what, that wouldn’t be proper etiquette. I flatly rejected Croa’s suggestion, which she offered in her gentle manner.
“No. Even if it’s troublesome, this is something I must do myself.”
“…Very well.”
Croa, you just smiled like a carnival mask—are your facial muscles alright? Your eyes glared at me while only the corners of your mouth curved upward in a smile. It looked like a ghost laughing. She’s becoming increasingly skilled at making creepy expressions. Should I consult Father about this?
“Why are you smiling like a resentful maiden ghost?”
“I’m relieved I’m not the only one who felt that.”
I’m grateful Shirley is here. When Shirley acts creepy, I feel thankful that Croa exists.
Hmm, thinking about it this way, we have good balance among ourselves. Is this the sense of stability that only childhood friends can provide?
I told Shirley about how the Fifth Prince of Astiages had sent a hundred letters. Shirley examined the envelope’s exterior and spoke as if uninterested.
“Ugh, why bother reading each one individually? Just write a casual reply.”
“See, Croa? This is what a normal reaction looks like.”
Usually people don’t make ghost faces like you do. Every time Croa made that expression, it gave me chills, so I demanded she reflect, but I used an analogy as if trying to convince the young Shirley.
“If you were to co-author a paper with someone you don’t know, and they sent you a hundred pages asking for review, how would you feel?”
“No, Pisha! You should do things like that with me, not pick up some random bone like that!”
“You see, Pisha? You mustn’t pick up random bones.”
Ugh, fine. You two are so alike—how nice for you. I imposed a ban on both of them entering my room and clutched the letters. As I entered my room with Emily, I heard nagging from outside the window again.
“Pisha! I humbly beseech your forgiveness!”
“Pisha! If you happen to work on that paper, you must do it with me!”
Someone tell those two to shut up. When I had Emily relay that if they continued making noise, I wouldn’t see them until tomorrow, their voices vanished completely and only silence remained.
“Ahem.”
Now, where should I start reading? I opened the first envelope from the letters Emily had organized in chronological order. This was the one I had stopped reading before, so my memory of it was hazy.
To Princess Vishnabel of Kisomalos
I am Nanakda, the Fifth Prince of Astiages. You haven’t forgotten, have you? You told me to send word immediately, yet here I am writing a letter a month later. I’ve been rather thoughtless. I’ve been quite busy these past weeks. And when I tried to send a telegram, it felt too formal and stiff. I thought a handwritten letter might be more romantic.
I trust nothing troublesome has occurred this past month? Father occasionally speaks of you. He says you worry whether you inherit the throne or not. He frets that if you become Emperor, you’ll wear yourself out managing diplomacy (laughs).
So I suggested to Father that perhaps I should marry into Kisomalos and become a bridgehead for our alliance. He seemed quite receptive to the idea. Our marriage arrangements may well progress swiftly.
But do you remember that I’m quite popular? I’m positioned far from the succession dispute and stand to gain considerably from marriage negotiations, so neighboring kingdoms with princesses send me gifts every year, hoping to catch my eye.
I receive fine horses, busts of myself gilded in gold, and various other treasures, yet none of them truly satisfy me. As a prince of Astiages, I’ve indulged in luxury until I’m sick of it. My palace lacks nothing, and both Father and the Empress Mother provide me generous stipends for maintaining my dignity, so I live in abundance.
The reason I’m explaining all this at such length is to tell you this: I am a valuable commodity, so prepare a substantial dowry for the usurper. No matter how much we may care for each other, if the Emperor is dissatisfied with the price at which I’m being sold off, he certainly won’t send me to Kisomalos.
I say it twice: prepare a substantial dowry.
Ahem. Writing this letter brought back memories of the days we spent together, so I had potatoes boiled. I’m eating them now. But they don’t taste as good as they did then. Those potatoes we ate in the Old Warehouse were so sweet and delicious that I thought when I returned, I’d name the new potato variety developed in Astiages the “Duke.” But after tasting it again at the Imperial Palace, it wasn’t delicious enough to warrant the “Duke” name, so I’ve settled on calling it the “Baron.” I’m sending you some “Baron” potatoes, so I hope you’ll taste them.
Wait! Could it be that the potatoes that came every day back then were the ones Nanakda sent?!
“Emily! Emily, are you there!”
“Yes, Your Highness! Emily is here today!”
“Those fluffy potatoes we ate two years ago—were those the ‘Baron’ potatoes that Fifth Prince Nanakda sent?!”
“Yes! Didn’t we tell you several times!”
Oh my! So that’s what it was! I thought Kisomalos must have had an exceptional potato harvest this year with potatoes appearing at every meal!
“What do I do, what do I do about this!”
Every time this man sends a letter, he’s sent a gift too? This is burdensome because I have to repay it all at once!
“Emily, you all! If you received a gift, you should have reported it immediately and sent a reply! You should have pestered me about it!”
“You should have reminded me then! You should have told me every day to send a reply!”
“I have committed a grave sin!”
“I did mention it for several days, but Your Highness said you didn’t want to hear it anymore and told me to stop!”
“Oh no!”
I was the one who said it! That’s right, I remember now! I told you to stop mentioning it because it was annoying! But I never expected the Fifth Prince would send a hundred letters over two years!

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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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