I Became the Daughter of a Disgraced Duke - Chapter 11

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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 11
Good grief. This is absurd.
Every person in this neighborhood must be blind.
And a daughter—what daughter? I burned through that thread ages ago because knots just come undone anyway.
Cassian shoved a drink down his throat.
In all the women he’d met—dozens of them—he’d never made a mistake.
‘Even a wretch like me doesn’t abandon his own child.’
The Chocolate Cookie she’d been crunching seemed to suit her taste; her mouth curved upward in a bright smile.
Her small white teeth showed—so tiny and fragile-looking, baby teeth still.
‘That little thing’s father must be an idiot too.’
Doesn’t even know his own brat is in someone else’s house.
Or maybe—maybe the woman dumped her here because he’s not even good for recycling, useless scrap that he is.
Either way, I’m sick to death of this. Looking after a child shouldn’t be this exhausting…….
I’ll just keep her through today and head to the orphanage first thing tomorrow at sunrise.
“Looks like French Fries suit your palate. Here, have more.”
Cassian dipped the French Fries he’d ordered as a side into sauce generously and held them up to Little One’s mouth.
Nom!
The child took what he offered like a young chick waiting to be fed.
“(It’s yummy!)”
Her stubby legs swung freely through the air. Well, she does seem to enjoy it.
Before he knew what he was doing, he popped another French Fry into her mouth.
Then he caught himself and startled.
‘No, no way! It’s absolutely not because she’s too cute!’
Her little face laughing with delight—giggle, giggle—was perhaps slightly endearing, but that wasn’t really what it was.
French Fries are greasy; they’re a hassle to clean off her mouth afterward, so he was simply helping her eat, that was all.
Beyond that, it was merely a display of substantial conscience, high moral character, and gentle disposition.
I’ll feed her like this just this once, and from tomorrow on she can eat by herself. No, wait—she’ll be gone by then.
Gone…… Actually, wouldn’t it be faster if I just ran away?
Cassian exhaled a long, weary sigh as nonsensical thoughts crowded his mind.
“Proprietor. Could you watch the girl for a few days? You’ve got plenty of kids at home anyway—one more won’t make much difference. I’ll pay you well.”
“Pay well? You’ll leave without so much as a pittance the moment I turn my back. I don’t trust you.”
“That’s ridiculous. Didn’t you see me work last time?”
“Ha! Your work is extorting assassins?”
At the blatant scoff, Cassian glared at the tavern keeper before burying his nose in his cup.
Meanwhile, Little One kept chattering away beside him.
“(Mister. I will, I will bring you lots and lots of egg-fried rice every single day. So please, please let me live with you just for a few years. That other place looks so hard……)”
Pfft. Look at this newly hatched chick, just barely out of the shell, chirping away like she’s learned how to talk.
Life is bitter, drink is sweet, and the heart is restless.
Cassian shouted, thinking he’d be better off dead today.
“Another round!”
* * *
This was the most serious situation since I fell in front of the mister’s house.
‘Oh, oh dear. What do I do.’
I’d succeeded in clinging to the drunk mister’s back and making it home, but this was a problem I couldn’t solve on my own.
This place didn’t have Teacher Anne Marie or Uncle Michael to fight the Bed Monster if it appeared, so there was no one to help me.
Which meant…….
‘I, I’m scared to sleep alone.’
Pride wounded or not, I still needed someone beside me patting me to sleep.
At the Sunshine Orphanage, Teacher Anne Marie would pat me before bed, or I’d sleep pressed close against my friends.
I’d be happy even to have a stuffed animal to hold, but there was nothing here.
Sitting alone on the sofa at a loss, a good idea suddenly came to me.
‘That’s it!’
I’d just pat the mister—who was now a drooping, limp thing—and then quietly drift off to sleep beside him.
I wouldn’t have to sleep alone, and the mister would have someone patting him to sleep!
‘It’s the perfect solution!’
I jumped down from the sofa and scampered into the mister’s room.
The mister lay diagonally across the bed, snoring loudly with a rumbling sound.
With each exhale, the reek of alcohol was so foul I had to cover my nose.
“(Mister. I’ll pat you now!)”
I climbed onto the bed and patted his exposed belly—his shirt had flipped up and was hanging loose.
If I sleep like the Bed Monster, my stomach aches the next day and I can’t eat anything.
“(Sprinkle-sprinkle! Be healthy now, yay!)”
I cast the spell all by myself and covered the man’s belly with my Blanket from here while I was at it.
Then I shuffled into the Quilt beside him.
The Sunshine Orphanage was always warm, but the Empire got cold at night—if you didn’t dress warmly, you’d shiver something awful.
“Hush now, hush now, my little one.”
I curled my body around myself and patted myself gently.
I even sang the lullaby Mother used to sing.
‘I miss Mother…….’
As I tried to recall Mother’s scent—mostly forgotten by now—I thought of Anne Marie, who had smiled like her.
I remembered Michael too, and the candy he used to give me.
Sleep still wouldn’t come, so I rolled my body over and gripped the sleeping man’s hand tight.
‘It’s all right. The man is good at running, so if the Bed Monster shows up, he’ll carry me away and run.’
Whoooosh. Whoooosh.
When I heard the man’s breathing, my eyes gradually grew heavy.
Oh, that’s right.
“(Good night, sleep well!)”
You have to greet people properly to be called a good child.
It was nice not having to worry about the Bed Monster since I was next to the man.
* * *
Without alcohol to aid him, sleep brought the same dream again and again—a woman.
“Cassian. Please die.”
It was an old story.
Happiness and tragedy, sorrow and despair woven together—an utterly ordinary tale.
In the moment a gleaming blade pierced his heart, he remembered rosy cheeks and small hands.
‘Iris.’
Yes, I could die for you anytime.
Hundreds of times. Thousands.
Even in the dream, terrible pain radiated through him.
But knowing how this night ended, he understood this wasn’t true suffering.
True despair came after—the failed Magic, after the blood was spilled.
The despairing woman and him, lost in a daze.
And what could never return…….
“Ah.”
Consciousness was forcibly dragged upward from sleep.
‘A dream?’
Cassian stared intently at Little One with bleary eyes.
The closed eyelids resembled Iris’s.
The delicate lashes and neat eyebrows too.
The pale skin and soft, steady breathing as well.
He caught his breath in anguish and closed his eyes.
Iris was dead.
‘Iris is dead.’
Long buried in the ground.
He knew it and accepted it well enough.
So this wasn’t a denial of reality—it was simply that Little One happened to bear an uncanny resemblance to Iris.
Looking at her made his heart ache for no reason.
His heart had long since been completely healed from that time when it was torn open and bleeding madly, yet it felt pierced all the same.
‘Damn it.’
Cassian jolted awake, trying to escape from Little One.
Or rather, he tried to.
There was only one reason he couldn’t.
“Ah.”
A hand no bigger than a chestnut gripped his finger.
Cassian stared at that small hand, transfixed.
Do you know how strong a newborn’s grip can be?
Driven by the instinct to cling to their mother, even infants possess a grip fierce enough to startle an adult.
But Little One was no newborn.
She was a toddler who could speak and walk—barely resembling a person at all.
Deeply asleep, there was no strength in the hand that held him.
Even gripped with great force, a slight twist would slip free.
A war hero who had cleaved through monsters would hardly find such a thing difficult.
And yet Cassian could not release that hand.
It was too small.
The pale skin felt so delicate.
He was afraid it might tear if he applied any pressure.
He was awed by the mere existence of something so tiny and fragile in this world.
And it resembled Iris.
A sudden wave rose in his throat.
Cassian clamped his mouth shut, choking it back.
That profound love lodged deep in his chest.
The tender ache of wanting to give everything.
Iris was dead—but that moment remained embedded in his heart, leaving him without the courage to turn away from the child’s small touch.
‘Iris is dead. She’s dead.’
So don’t let yourself care for this child.
Smack. Smack.
He struck his own cheeks.
This child cannot—must not—take her place.
Cassian was trembling there alone, struggling, when—
A soft gasp.
Little One’s eyes fluttered open.
In an instant—
Recognizing him, Little One sprang up, round eyes darting about before breaking into the bright, unclouded smile of a child raised in love.
“Hehe.”
Over Little One’s face, Iris’s face superimposed itself.
Iris.
The woman he had loved most, wearing Little One’s features … his only daughter.
In that moment, Cassian could hold back no longer. He rushed to the bathroom and retched until there was nothing left.

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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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