I Became the Daughter of a Disgraced Duke - Chapter 7

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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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Episode 6
Baron gave me nothing but Egg Sandwiches three times a day, every single day of the week.
There it sat on the table, as if to mock me—another Egg Sandwich.
I made a face.
‘Maybe being picky about food isn’t so bad after all.’
At the Sunlight Orphanage, they’d served different meals at each sitting, but here I’d eaten nothing but Egg Sandwiches for a whole week.
Even a well-behaved child like me had limits.
So, with that thought in mind, I poked my finger at the Spicy Chicken with a soft jab—poke!
“Tsk!”
The moment Baron’s eyes widened, I quickly pulled my finger back.
Lick.
I tasted the sauce on my fingertip.
“Agh!”
I’d barely sampled it, yet my entire mouth was on fire.
“Puh-puh-puh!”
It was scorching!
I stuck my tongue out and fanned it frantically, but the heat only grew more intense with each passing second.
“(Oh no—oh no—uncle! I-it’s so hot!)”
My eyes welled up with tears as I grabbed at Baron’s pant leg and shook it desperately.
“Goodness. I buy the sandwiches and still get nothing but trouble. Well, well.”
Taking pity on me, Baron filled a cup with water and handed it over.
I gulped down the water, then simply dunked my tongue into the cup itself.
As Baron bent down to bring the water closer, he settled himself on the kitchen floor to watch over me.
Seeing me suffer—even as snot dripped from my nose—he broke into giggles.
There I was, in agony, while snot came streaming out—sniff, sniff.
“(D-don’t laugh!)”
Even though I glared at him the same way he’d glared at me, it didn’t work.
Resting his arms on his knees and propping his chin in his hands, Baron only laughed harder the more I scowled at him.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The heat rose all the way to the top of my head.
“Runt. Look at you. That’s why you’re so ugly.”
“M-mister…”
A well-behaved child mustn’t be disrespectful to adults.
A well-behaved child doesn’t fight with grown-ups either.
And a well-behaved child ought to be able to forgive someone who says mean things, at least once.
I held my anger in check, biting the inside of my cheek, and Baron let out a laugh before rubbing my forehead firmly with his palm.
Wondering what he was doing, I watched his hands closely and realized he was wiping away the sweat that had beaded up all over my face from the spicy food.
‘Huh?’
Just a little—just a tiny bit—he reminded me of my small uncle.
My small uncle used to wipe away the sweat from my face just like this whenever I’d played and run around with my cousins.
My eyes went wide, and the next thing I knew, Baron had lifted me up and plunked me down in front of the table.
“Let’s eat.”
Baron started his meal right away, but I’d already eaten that Egg Sandwich at least five hundred times—nothing sounded appetizing anymore.
Peek. Peek.
I kept glancing over at Baron’s Spicy Chicken.
Though it had been far too hot…
“(Mister? Um. I’d like to give you this.)”
Plop.
I placed the sandwich on his plate.
This way, I’d be a well-behaved child, and he’d get to taste the sandwich too.
“(I don’t think my stomach is feeling very well.)”
“Why? Not hungry?”
“(Um. N-no. Yes.)”
Even after I answered, Baron just tilted his head, so I nodded instead.
Only then did Baron understand what I meant.
“You don’t eat now, there’s no food later. Even if you say you’re starving, I won’t give you any, so think it over.”
I shook my head to show I wouldn’t eat, and Baron picked up the sandwich and opened his mouth wide.
That very instant.
Growwwwl!
My stomach let out a thunderous roar.
Oh no! I clutched my stomach in panic, but it was no use.
Baron, frozen mid-bite of his sandwich, clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“Look at you being picky. For a little thing like you, you’ve got some nerve.”
But if I was picky, I wouldn’t be a good child……
My eyes began to tremble. I had to prove that I was a good child who would eat anything except carrots.
But there was nothing on the table I could eat.
‘If this keeps up, I’ll have to go to the Cave Orphanage.’
My nose grew sharp and tight, tears welling at the corners of my eyes.
The chair scraped back.
Baron stood up from his seat.
Was he going to cast me out, saying a child who wasn’t good couldn’t eat with him?
Could I ever be happy in the dark, desolate Cave Orphanage?
My friend Luana from the Sunlight Orphanage had said that other facilities weren’t as happy as ours.
Worry rose in my chest, and the tears clinging to my eyes threatened to spill over.
‘Whimper.’
Here I was, faced with fragrant Spicy Chicken, forced to eat the same boring Egg Sandwich again.
Baron returned with a bowl of water and began rinsing the chicken meat.
“I’ve got things to do, and here I am babysitting. What a life.”
He grumbled that it was a nuisance, though he didn’t sound particularly displeased—just rather annoyed.
He separated the meat from the bones, rinsed it in water, and placed it on my plate with a soft clink, clink.
Then he spoke in a gruff tone.
“Hey, kid. I’m not your mother. Pick up the fork and eat it yourself.”
I quickly grabbed the fork.
Stab.
I speared a piece of meat and put it in my mouth.
Worried it might still be spicy even after rinsing the sauce off, I squeezed my eyes shut and chewed.
The chicken Baron gave me tasted……
“Huh!”
I’d braced myself for my face to burn, but it wasn’t spicy at all.
There was a faint peppery warmth, but the chicken flavor came through deliciously.
The tears that had been precariously hanging on just moments before dried up.
As I wiggled my arms and legs in delight at how tasty it was, Baron let out a laugh.
“Is it good?”
“Yes!”
“Not too spicy?”
“(Just a teensy bit spicy.)”
“I don’t understand you. Speak Empire Language.”
“(Just this teeny bit spicy.)”
I bent my index and thumb together.
I narrowed the gap between my two fingers to hair-width thin, but my tongue felt a slight sting, so I widened the gap a little.
Baron continued scraping meat with his knife while looking at me instead of the plate.
His expression was a bit frightening for some reason.
Should I not have said it was spicy?
Troubled by this worry, I narrowed the gap again.
But thinking about it, saying it wasn’t spicy when it actually was a little spicy would be a lie.
To be a good child, I widened my finger gap back to the honest distance.
Glance.
The moment I looked at Baron, our eyes met instantly.
Shake, shake.
Baron shook his head.
I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or proud that I was eating well.
I was about to be afraid again, but Baron smiled faintly, so I decided to feel reassured.
‘Since I was a good child just now, will he let me stay here instead of the orphanage?’
That’s what my friends said.
Unlike our Sunlight Orphanage, the other facilities outside had bad food and scary teachers.
Adults like good children.
So if I became a good child, maybe I could live here instead of at the orphanage.
‘Though Baron seems reluctant to raise me.’
Even in this small body, I could tell who was a bad adult and who was a good one.
This man rinsing my chicken for me seemed like a good adult who didn’t want to be bad to me.
If I really hated it, I’d never eat a single bite before my stomach filled itself anyway.
‘I’m starting to like him, I think.’
A little. Just a tiny bit.
About the width of my fingers.
* * *
“Ptooey!”
The little one, who’d been gulping down the meat like a baby bird, suddenly stuck out her tongue and made a face like she was dying.
No matter how well you wash it, the sauce soaked into the meat itself won’t go away.
When I poured milk for her, she drank it down with flushed cheeks, gulp after gulp.
Since this was her last special meal before going to the orphanage, I figured I might as well spoil her a little.
But who the hell’s daughter is this kid anyway?
Do her parents even know she’s struggling in someone else’s house?
‘Do I look like her?’
Cassian studied the little one’s face carefully.
His hair was unusually thick—black and wavy.
The little one’s hair was unusually thick—black and straight.
His eyes were the rare Golden Eyes.
The little one also had the rare Golden Eyes.
But those yellow eyes were a trait his nephew had too.
‘How does she see any resemblance? Just because the color matches doesn’t mean everything’s the same.’
The little one had densely packed eyelashes that cast shadows across her round eyes, but he didn’t have round eyes, and his eyelashes weren’t long or thick.
The little one had a round forehead; his was flat.
Besides, by any reasonable standard, a person as sharp-featured as Cassian—who looked like he’d tear anyone apart if they so much as glanced at him wrong—couldn’t possibly father a child so lovely that even grown men would probably trip over themselves once she grew up, no matter how different the basic features.
“Hehehehe!”
The little one set down her mug, grinning widely despite the white milk mark across her philtrum like a mustache.
“She’s got a good appetite.”
What’s she so happy about over some milk?
The way she smiled with a faint dimple in one corner of her mouth looked just like a baby angel.
‘Damn it!’
In that moment, Cassian startled himself and smacked his own forehead.
It’s insane—I’ve only known this kid for a few days, and just watching her eat makes her seem adorable.
This is definitely it. That thing, that….
― S, s, st….
As he racked his brain, the word came to him slowly, a beat behind.
Stockholm syndrome!
“Hey, hey, kid! Listen up. I’m warning you. Cut it out!”
Heaven’s own Cassian Calypso was about to fall victim to that very Stockholm syndrome—the one where you start getting attached just from seeing someone’s face every day!

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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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