I Became the Daughter of a Disgraced Duke - Chapter 39

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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 38
“You’re in luck. We only have exactly four left in stock.”
Cassian, fourth in line, managed to snatch a limited-edition Lulu Princess Doll by the narrowest of margins.
On that humid summer night, the fathers behind him who had waited overnight for the dolls trudged home with exhaustion etched into their faces.
Iris clutched the Lulu Princess Doll to her chest, on the verge of tears—but from joy.
“Papa, papa! When I go to big uncle’s house next time, I’m bringing Lulu Princess with me. I’ll take her to the playground and eat with her. Thank you so much, really!”
“Next time you want something, just tell me. Dad will buy it for you again.”
“No, no. I don’t want anything else. There’s nothing I could possibly want. I’m happier than anyone in the whole world right now.”
Cassian watched his daughter’s animated face, her mouth moving ceaselessly, and smiled silently.
Could happiness be anything this small and yet this perfect?
A single doll had made Iris smile, and he’d found a genuine joy that drinking, smoking, and gambling had never once delivered.
It astonished him that happiness could be worth this much.
‘The problem is the house.’
That damned house. Not a surface inside was left unmarked by red eviction notices.
“It’s so pretty…….”
Following the Lulu Princess, Iris’s room had been renovated into something bright and sparkling, and she bounced with delight.
When the usually well-behaved girl came running and threw her arms around him, Cassian’s peace of mind doubled in turmoil.
Normally seeing your child happy was a blessing, but those red notices hanging everywhere made it impossible.
‘Damn it.’
Maybe he could borrow some money from Zenovion.
If he offered to transfer his titles and lands, he’d probably get several hundred million Gold without hesitation.
While his head throbbed with worry, there was still work to be done.
First on the list: feeding the child.
“Aren’t you going to eat, Papa?”
“Dad’s not hungry.”
The sight of that red color made what little appetite he had vanish entirely, and even the hangover threatening to rise up seemed to flee.
Maybe he should storm the loan sharks’ office, tear Baron apart, turn their company representative into pulp.
Forming serious, grave, and monumental plans, he unfolded the newspaper.
Seven numbers were printed at the top of the page.
Today’s lottery numbers, drawn this morning.
‘I should’ve bought a lottery ticket for eighty million Gold.’
Iris, who was eating jam-spread bread, asked.
“What’s that?”
“These are numbers.”
“Numbers?”
“Right. Once every fortnight, early in the morning, the Royal Palace draws two, the Holy Temple draws two, and the Holy Family draws three. If you match all seven of those numbers exactly, you win.”
“Win what?”
“Money.”
“Money?”
“Why? Do you want something?”
Iris shook her head and pulled something from her pocket, holding it out to him.
It was crumpled and folded—a piece of paper.
A lottery ticket with a magical seal stamped on it. Cassian knew it well.
“What’s this?”
“A lottery ticket! I bought it yesterday.”
“Wait, that’s not what I meant…… You bought this yourself?”
“Yeah. There wasn’t a drink I wanted, so I picked seven numbers. Here, it’s for you. A present!”
“You didn’t have to give it to me.”
“But you bought me Lulu Princess. So this is yours. I don’t need it.”
After finishing all her bread, Iris gulped down her milk.
Cassian responded with dry courtesy.
“Thank you. Dad will keep it safe.”
The numbers probably won’t match, but it’s my daughter’s first gift to me. I’ll have to carry it in my wallet.
With that thought, he unfolded the lottery ticket.
Then, noticing familiar digits, he went blank and checked the numbers in the newspaper again.
He lightly tapped his own cheek.
‘Something’s off. Did I lose it getting older? It’s not like I’m hallucinating just because I didn’t get enough sleep.’
His gaze moved back and forth between the newspaper and the ticket.
3 and 3, 54 and 54, 42 and 42, 19 and 19, 20 and 20, 16 and 16. And 7 and 7.
Perfect match.
Cassian slapped his own cheek hard enough to hear it crack.
No, seriously—how is this even possible?
‘First Prize?’
They said First Prize odds were lower than getting struck by lightning.
And he’d won the very first time he bought a ticket—
“This actually happened?”
It did happen.
Shit. This actually happened.
“I’m losing my mind.”
The First Prize payout was a staggering one billion Gold.
Cassian pressed a hand to his mouth like a wife who’d just witnessed her husband’s infidelity, then clenched his fist and swung it through the empty air.
He opened his mouth in a silent cheer—victory without sound.
His chest felt like it might burst.
He’d felt this kind of electric rush only once before—when he’d pulled a soldier back from certain death on the battlefield, the man having fought thirty-two demons to one.
“Dad, are you okay?”
“Ahh…….”
His voice was so thick with joy he couldn’t form words.
Iris’s gaze flickered with worry.
“Does your belly hurt? Are you hungry? There’s still milk left—want some? Don’t you like the pastry?”
As Iris fidgeted anxiously, Cassian blurted out reflexively.
“Dad is comp(↗)letely fine! Really(↗) tru(↗)ly gre(↗)at!”
The pitch cracks that peppered his words struck Iris as hilarious—she burst into delighted laughter.
Cassian scooped her up and held her while silent tears streamed down his face.
‘My daughter is a genius. No—a fairy.’
A victory fairy!
A fortune charm!
A lottery master!
Bouncing Iris up and down as they danced, he claimed the First Prize winnings on the spot.
After taxes, seven hundred and three million Gold remained—more than enough to clear the debt and have plenty left over.
The moment his debts were paid, Cassian tore the Red Eviction Notice from the front door and spoke.
“Sweetheart. Let me introduce you again. This right here is ‘our’ home.”
Iris wouldn’t understand, but it truly was ‘their’ house now.
He’d changed it to joint ownership with his daughter’s money—kept it that way.
* * *
“You’re not talking about Lisi today?”
Adrian tilted his head, noticing the anxiety had vanished from Valentin’s face.
Usually the youngest prince sang Lisi’s name constantly, but today he seemed oddly indifferent.
“Who’s Lisi?”
“You don’t remember Lisi?”
“I’m asking who that is.”
Prince Valentin, barely five years old, scowled fiercely.
For a child his age, he looked remarkably adult in that moment.
“You said it all the time. That you had to protect Lisi.”
“Me? I don’t remember.”
“What are you talking about? Last time we met, you were whining about missing Lisi. Are you a liar?”
“What?”
Valentin’s eyes went wide with offense. His sharp fox-like gaze turned fierce, though he was still just a chubby-cheeked child.
Adrian assumed the boy had simply forgotten what he’d said—he was still so young, after all.
“Anyway, didn’t we say other friends are coming today? From the Holy Family, right? We brought our brother so we could all play together.”
“Don’t know. Probably in the Garden.”
“Then I’ll go find them. You stay here and play with our brother.”
“Where is your brother?”
“The bathroom. I don’t know which one. You can try looking for him too.”
“What?”
Adrian left the remarkably cunning Valentin behind and dashed toward the Garden.
The Holy Family was a lineage that served the Goddess and guarded the Holy Temple, producing Holy Knights generation after generation.
What set them apart was that they wielded a peculiar power despite not being mages.
He’d heard that power required certain conditions to awaken, but Adrian was still too young to grasp the details.
All he knew was that they had something extraordinary.
‘It must be them.’
Adrian spotted the boys making a commotion in the corner of the Garden.
He caught fragments of their conversation.
“Yesterday, Zenovion erased Valentin’s memory—did you have a hand in that?”
At the mention of his father’s name, Adrian instinctively shrank back.
Something warned him—a primal instinct—that he shouldn’t draw near his father in this way.
Tucked deeper among the shrubs, he studied the one who’d spoken.
The boy had a face beautiful enough that Adrian, despite himself, found it striking—delicate, refined features.
His silver hair gleamed like starlight. There was an unmistakable elegance in the way he stood.
‘He looks about the same age as my brother.’
Could someone so young truly possess such grace—like a swan from the pages of a book?
The fair-haired boy across from him replied with a cynical edge.
“If he retains even a fragment of memory, it means he is the Saint’s Holy Knight—and I couldn’t allow such a being to serve one who stands against the Saint.”
“You can’t force a life onto someone. Everything must move by their own will.”
“I simply helped redirect a branch that was bending downward. That has nothing to do with will or coercion.”
“Enrique!”
Enrique, the fair-haired one, pressed on with grinding certainty.
“So you’d let the world perish instead? We’ve already lived through that!”

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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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