I Became the Daughter of a Disgraced Duke - Chapter 14

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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 13
“Kid, what’s wrong?”
The child’s breathing sounded wrong.
His skin was swelling red, yet his face had gone deathly pale.
“What—what is it! You…!”
The child wheezed, gasping for air.
Cassian’s face drained of color.
It was the sound a soldier made when his airway melted in scorching heat and he couldn’t breathe—exactly like this.
As the small body went limp, he lifted the child into his arms without thinking.
What is this? Why—why is this happening?
Did someone poison the drink?
There’s no way the cake contained a demon’s fluids.
Did he have a seizure from seeing something he shouldn’t have?
Did it happen because Cassian was planning to send him to the Orphanage?
His throat isn’t blocked, is it?
Is it because I’m cursed after all…?
“Hey, hey. You can’t do this!”
“Sir, please stay calm! We—we need to get to the Hospital!”
At the Orphanage teacher’s cry, Cassian bolted from the building and grabbed a passing carriage.
“The Hospital! Take us to the Hospital! It’s an emergency! An emergency!”
“What?”
The driver glanced through the window, saw the spectacle unfolding inside, and shrieked before snapping the reins.
“Aaaah! The Hospital! Hoooospitaaaal!”
As the carriage thundered forward, Cassian rubbed the child’s back.
The small one’s breathing only grew worse.
As the pearl-white face shifted from red to purple, Cassian felt his mind coming apart at the seams.
He knew how to kill demons, how to cut down formless spirits, how to crush devils—but he had no idea what to do when a tiny child seized before his eyes.
Cassian, who had never trembled before a demon, now shook like a leaf over the small child in his arms.
Thanks to the driver’s desperate gallop, they reached the Hospital in moments.
Cassian rushed to the physician, the child still in his arms.
“It’s an allergic reaction.”
“An—an allergic reaction?”
The physician, moving with practiced ease, administered an injection. Slowly, the child’s breathing improved.
“What did you feed the child today?”
“Eggs and bread—he ate those yesterday too. And cake. Peach Cake, it was… Oh.”
Cassian swallowed without meaning to.
Dead Iris had a Peach Allergy too.
Of course she did—it was something she’d inherited from her mother, Henrietta.
A strange sensation struck his heart.
Cassian stared at the unconscious child.
“Since the child has a Peach Allergy, he’s likely to have allergic reactions to similar fruits as well. I’d recommend being selective with his diet and keeping medication on hand at all times.”
“When will his eyes open?”
“He should regain consciousness soon. As his guardian, try not to worry too much and simply wait.”
The physician rattled off the warnings and left to attend another patient, leaving him alone at the child’s bedside.
The child’s complexion had improved considerably since before, returning to his usual pale complexion, yet Cassian still couldn’t breathe.
His mind had frozen solid, and winter’s chill had settled deep in his chest.
Though invisible to the eye, his hands trembled without cease.
He drew a sharp breath.
Cassian inhaled deeply, swallowing hard through his nose.
He truly thought the child would die.
He thought the child would die there in his arms, so easily, so pointlessly.
Burying his face in his palms, hot breath returned to him unfiltered.
A letter from a woman—from Henrietta—surfaced in his mind.
She, who had a Peach Allergy, had written in a rough hand:
「Do you know I have a Peach Allergy? When I was little, I nearly died eating a peach. That’s why I’ll never eat peaches.」
When he first learned of Henrietta’s Peach Allergy, Iris hadn’t existed yet.
So he’d thought simply then: If I ever make it home, I’ll never eat a peach again in my life.
「But I think Iris takes after me. I tested her with a small piece, just to be sure—and the Peach Allergy caused her whole body to swell. I wish she’d inherited that from you instead. It breaks my heart.」
Now that he’d learned the child also had a Peach Allergy, Cassian had come to hate peaches.
Even on battlefields where food was scarce and he ate whatever he found, he left wild peaches uneaten and threw them away.
That was how much he loved his daughter.
Enough to lay down his life for her.
Enough to shatter a war hero like Cassian into the lowest wreck the Capital had ever seen.
Cassian’s hand trembled as he gripped the child’s fingers, shaking.
‘Open your eyes. Come on.’
He was terrified.
If he was honest, it wasn’t that he disliked the little one for resembling Iris—it was that watching her hurt.
If he’d truly hated her, he wouldn’t have sat there rinsing marinade off meat while feeding her rice.
When he shredded chicken for her and she ate it with those soft munching sounds, he found himself wondering if his own daughter would have eaten the same way, and he wanted to weep without reason.
That was why he’d tried to send this child to the Orphanage.
Because watching her made him think of Iris, and thinking of Iris sent what was already a shattered heart plummeting through the floor into an abyss.
‘I don’t want you to die.’
He wanted her to live well instead.
Healthy and brave.
Laughing often, eating well, living happily.
He prayed silently, over and over.
I take back what I said about being annoyed.
I’ll apologize for the stalker nonsense too.
‘So please, just open your eyes.’
The doctor had said she’d wake soon, but he couldn’t rest easy until he saw it with his own eyes.
No one had ever predicted Iris would die that way.
Life always betrays expectations.
That was the truth as Cassian knew it.
“Mmm…”
The child’s eyelids fluttered, and golden eyes emerged beneath them.
“(Mister…?)”
Cassian pressed his forehead against the sheet and exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, watching those drowsy, hazy eyes.
Though his heart still tumbled through mud from the fall, the thought that she was alive flooded his mind.
Even as her dark skin drained of color until she looked corpse-like, he rubbed her cold hand and whispered to her.
“It’s alright. Yes, you’re alright. Everything’s alright now.”
It’s alright. She didn’t die.
He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to himself or to the little one, but as long as she was okay, everything was okay.
* * *
The monster mister wasn’t actually a monster.
He was a fussy, worried eagle of a mister.
Even after the doctor in the white coat examined me, he kept asking annoying questions.
“Are you alright? Nothing tickling or making it hard to breathe?”
“(I’m not hurt anymore. So please don’t worry.)”
“You can’t eat peaches, you know that? You know what a peach is, right?”
“(I know what peaches are! They’re my favorite fruit! But why can’t I eat them?)”
“Because you nearly died eating one, that’s why. Stay away from peach trees from now on. Understood?”
“(What?!)”
“I swear, I’ve aged ten years.”
Looking closer, the worried mister’s eyes were red as a rabbit’s.
‘Oh no. He really did cry.’
Imagining a grown man whimpering and fretting suddenly made me feel sorry for him.
‘I’ve grown more composed now. I don’t cry much anymore.’
Coward though I was, I only cried when I couldn’t bear it—but this mister was a worried eagle with red eyes.
Was it really so sad that I got sick and passed out?
Feeling a sense of responsibility, I patted his back gently, tap-tap-tap.
Maybe he thought I was going to hit him, because he flinched.
“(Don’t be scared. I’m really a gentle child. I don’t hit people.)”
“……….”
I really wasn’t.
To convince him further, I pulled out the secret weapon I’d been keeping hidden all this time. Behold!
“Hee-hee-hee-hee.”
This was the laugh that had even melted the stern Michael.
Whenever I laughed like this, Michael would casually slip me an extra candy as he passed by.
Teacher Annemarie had even started scolding me less, breaking into a grin the moment she saw me and laughing despite herself.
As I tittered away, the mister who’d been staring at me intently seemed to deflate, as if all the air had gone out of him.
“What’s there to smile about, coming back from the dead like that? Hah.”
“(I’m really okay, I promise!)”
I sprang up from the bed, grabbed his arm, and shook it hard.
Even when I wiggled my hips back and forth, his expression wouldn’t soften, so I just threw myself at him and hugged him.
I remembered that pale, drawn face I’d seen before I collapsed, and I desperately wanted to reassure him that everything was fine.
“(Pat-pat-pat there. You’re better now, right? That fast heartbeat is all gone now, isn’t it?)”
When other adults received a hug like this from me, they’d hug me back just the same, but he only went stiff and rigid.
On top of that, his body was so hard it was almost uncomfortable.
“(Oh my! If I pat-pat-pat you like this, you have to give me a tight hug back, don’t you?)”
When I shook my body to signal that I wanted him to hug me faster, he slowly raised his arms.
A palm the size of a pot lid wrapped around my back.
It was such an awkward posture—neither quite holding me nor simply resting his hands on me—that I looked up at him with a pout, and saw his eyes had turned red again at the rims.
“(Oh no! I’m really such a kind-hearted child that you mustn’t hit me carelessly! Don’t be scared!)”

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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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