I’m The Male Lead’s Biological Daughter, But I Want To Live With The Second Male Lead! - Chapter 116

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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 116
The elders opposed the adoption of the two children because of imperial law.
The law established by Empress Consort Francesca: “Beastmen cannot be registered into a family.”
This was a major reason driving their vocal resistance.
But the moment Beastmen could be adopted, Zigmund intended to make the children his adoptive sons without delay.
No matter how long it took—even if the children grew to adulthood, even if Zigmund aged and passed away.
Zigmund wanted to give the two children the name “Eschlide” after their own.
Not the tribal names “Elapid” and “Crimson Joro.”
And he had already received their consent on this matter.
“That may be so, but…”
Aselt and Kellic exchanged glances once more.
“Hmm…”
After thinking for a moment, Aselt broke into a quiet laugh.
“Then we’re fine with it. But it’ll be later, yes? Kellic, you agree, don’t you?”
“Of course! Absolutely!”
“Wait—why later?”
Mabel, who had been listening to the three of them talk, jumped in.
She’d have preferred our family to come into being today!
But Aselt saw it differently.
“Because today is for you, Mabel.”
“That’s right—and I can’t steal the spotlight by becoming your older brother on your day!”
Kellic hurried to agree as well.
“But that shouldn’t matter…”
Mabel’s mouth snapped shut as she was about to say it didn’t bother her.
Then, as if suddenly understanding, she nodded with a soft smile.
“Oh! We should tell them on a day that’s for you both!”
“Huh?”
“Eh?”
A day for us?
Aselt and Kellic exchanged bewildered looks at this unexpected turn.
Mabel hugged Winter tightly, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Zigmund.
“Isn’t that right, Father? Becoming your sons is just as important an occasion!”
Zigmund, who had moments earlier thought the same as Mabel—what did it matter?—found himself nodding in agreement.
“You’re right. Your words make sense.”
For Aselt and Kellic to become his sons was equally significant and worthy of everyone’s blessing.
Zigmund gave both bewildered children an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
“Aselt, Kellic. I have an assignment for you.”
“Sir?”
“Huh?!”
The two children jumped at this unexpected proclamation.
But Zigmund brushed off their shock as if it were nothing.
“This banquet is essentially something Mabel prepared anyway.”
“Me? I did?”
But Mabel had heard none of this before.
When had she ever done that?
As her red eyes blinked in confusion, Zigmund continued with amusement.
“You suggested the engagement annulment as the reason, you secured the Capital as the venue saying you wanted to hold a banquet there, and you created the guest list saying you wanted to spend time with everyone from the Townhouse. So it all checks out, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I… I mean…”
Is that how it works?
‘But Aselt was the one who actually suggested it…?’
While Mabel tilted her head in confusion, Zigmund turned back to Aselt and Kellic.
“So you two do the same. Think about where you’d like to hold the banquet, who you’d like to invite. That’s the assignment I’m giving you both.”
At Zigmund’s words, Aselt and Kellic, who had been startled before, laughed and nodded.
“Yes, understood.”
“Great! We’ll take care of it as soon as we get back to the mansion!”
Bright, energetic smiles had already bloomed on the children’s faces.
“Of course, for now we should just enjoy ourselves today.”
“Right! Today we celebrate Mabel!”
And they hadn’t forgotten to prioritize celebrating Mabel first, naturally.
* * *
Meanwhile, the one who had come up to the Capital was not merely the Eschlide Grand Duchy family.
Clink.
Francesca set down her teacup and spoke.
“You’ve surely heard by now that the Empress Consort used her authority to become guardian of the Asilonian princess.”
Sitting across from her was Caesar, who had been summoned to the Empress’s Palace.
“Even the Eschlide Grand Duke became the princess’s guardian, they say.”
……
Caesar’s gaze remained lowered, his face appearing emotionless at first glance.
Yet the muscles of his jaw were clenched tighter than ever before.
Unlike Caesar, Francesca’s manner was dismissive.
“I hear there’s a reception at the Townhouse today as well. A celebration for the engagement annulment, they say.”
How bold of them.
Not at the Grand Duchy, but here in the Capital where I am.
Yet Francesca found herself without sufficient grounds to ruin their gathering.
The Empress Consort and the Grand Duke.
With two such patrons standing in opposition, her plan to betroth Ian and Mabel had come to nothing but foam.
Francesca gestured, and a Head Servant standing at a distance approached.
On the silver tray he offered lay a small note.
Francesca, with an elegant movement, picked up the note and placed it before Caesar, at the spot where his teacup should have been.
“My Imperial Bank account details.”
It was a demand to return the money she had given as the price for betrothing Ian and Mabel.
Caesar’s lips twitched slightly.
He lifted his eyes, which until then had been fixed upon the space between the table and his legs.
His lips, pressed together like a clam, trembled faintly.
“Ha……”
From between them came a sound that was neither laughter nor sigh.
His insides churned, and his composure threatened to shatter at any moment.
“I trust that much is clear.”
Francesca lifted her teacup once more.
Then, with composed grace, she drank her tea while gazing out the window.
Francesca gave no indication of continuing the conversation.
Yet Caesar could not simply withdraw.
“I understand you wish to cast me aside, but I cannot accept that.”
Caesar, who had remained silent until then, spoke coldly.
His remaining blue eye flickered with fury.
Though he looked fierce enough to strike at any moment, Francesca remained unmoved.
“And what will you do?”
What could you possibly do?
At the scornful question, Caesar drew a sharp breath.
He swallowed his rising rage and curled the corners of his mouth upward.
“Well. But there is one thing I can tell you with certainty.”
Caesar pushed the note with the account details back toward Francesca.
Francesca’s gaze sharpened, as though asking what he thought he was doing.
Caesar even smiled with his eye as he answered her.
“Your Majesty will not recover a single coin from me.”
……
“Then I shall take my leave.”
With that, Caesar rose from his seat.
Francesca glared at his retreating back.
Tendons stood out on the back of Francesca’s hand as she gripped the teacup.
“Shall I detain him?”
The Head Servant approached and asked.
Francesca pondered for a moment, then shook her head.
“Let him go. It’s nothing but a final bluff.”
What could a mere duke possibly do against me, the Empress?
His wife and daughter bend to his will as it is—how could he move me?
Francesca watched the place where Caesar had stood and scoffed once more.
And as if to vindicate her expectation, Caesar’s steps as he departed the Empress’s Palace were rough and hurried.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Damn it all!”
Caesar could no longer contain his rage, and he kicked at the nearby flower garden.
The flowerbed, which had been ablaze with late spring and summer blooms, became a wasteland beneath the Aura-infused kick.
Everywhere his feet fell crumbled to ruin in an instant.
Yet Caesar found no peace.
His Aura, resonating with his fury, thrashed about violently.
Whoooosh!
The rough wind carrying his Aura withered the lush flowers and grass in seconds.
‘Never mind the Emperor’s favor—I can’t even claim a shred of his warmth, and now I’ve been bested by some beastman nobody!’
What stung most was that it had been Francesca, of all people, who had mocked him.
‘Does she think I’ll back down from this?’
Never. Not in a thousand years.
Caesar would make Francesca feel every ounce of the humiliation and shame he felt now.
Not only would he reclaim his reparations—he would extract far more than that from her.
That woman who dared play Empress Consort—he would force her to kneel at his feet without fail!
Caesar was clenching his fist, steeling himself with this vow, when he heard it.
Rustle.
The sound of grass brushing against his ear pulled him from his seething thoughts.
Caesar’s eyes, half-consumed by madness, snapped toward the source.
But whoever it had been was already gone—the undergrowth lay empty.
He stared at the spot for a long moment, then lifted his gaze.
In his blind rage, he’d wandered far—past the Empress’s Palace, now here.
‘The Crown Prince’s Palace…….’
Now that he thought of it, the Crown Prince was supposedly under a Forbidden Order.
His birthday celebration had been canceled this year—what could he have done to make the Emperor resort to such a measure?
‘The Empress he despises utterly, yet the Emperor has lavished every courtesy upon his own son…….’
As Caesar mentally retraced the recent events, his eyes suddenly widened.
“Ah……?”
A thought had struck him like a thunderbolt.

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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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