I’m The Male Lead’s Biological Daughter, But I Want To Live With The Second Male Lead! - Chapter 56

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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 56
Not long after receiving the Empress’s summons, Caesar visited the Imperial Palace.
“Welcome, Duke of Asilonia. I trust the journey was not too arduous?”
Francesca, who had been seated in the garden where autumn leaves blazed in brilliant color, greeted him warmly.
Caesar hesitated for a moment, then bowed with proper courtesy.
“Not at all. It is an honor to be summoned on such a day, when the autumn foliage is so beautifully in bloom.”
“You must have been startled by such a sudden notice, yet I’m delighted you see it that way. Please, sit.”
As Caesar took his seat across from her, Francesca personally poured the tea.
“Do try it, Duke. I’ve recently rekindled my passion for the Tea Ceremony.”
“Thank you.”
Caesar lifted the cup at Francesca’s invitation.
Though her technique was scarcely exemplary, Caesar drained the cup entirely.
Francesca, who watched with a soft chuckle, lifted her own cup with an elegant gesture.
Hers had been brewed by an attendant.
“I hear the compensation is quite substantial.”
The remark was so blunt that for a moment, Caesar failed to grasp her meaning.
When it finally struck him—the amount Asilonia owed following the judgment against Eschlide—a flicker of discomfort crossed his face.
“It is hardly an unbearable sum for Asilonia.”
“Is that so? Yet, Duke, your attire does not suggest such ease.”
Caesar’s fist, resting neatly on his thigh, twitched.
As Francesca presided over the Capital’s fashion enterprises, she possessed a keen eye for trends.
Yet the formal robes Caesar wore were entirely from the collection she had unveiled last spring.
Regardless of how austere one might be, to visit Francesca in garments so hopelessly out of season was remarkable.
It signified not disrespect toward Francesca, but rather that he lacked funds to follow this autumn’s fashions.
Under the weight of Francesca’s pointed gaze, Caesar’s fist clenched tight.
‘It was that beastman who first invaded my estate.’
Zigmund had demanded an astronomical sum as compensation for Kellic’s damages and the Grand Duke House’s tarnished honor.
Of course, opening the family vault would have resolved it swiftly.
But Caesar had not done so.
To suffer defeat at Zigmund’s hands was one thing; to allow history to record that he could not settle the aftermath alone was quite another.
His pride would not permit it.
So Caesar had resolved to manage the debt through his personal holdings, and as a result, he’d had no time to even glance at this autumn’s collection.
He could have worn clothes from another designer, but he had not.
‘She summoned me for a reason. She must want something done, and intends to pay handsomely for it.’
He had seen through her intentions the moment her message arrived.
After consideration, Caesar had deliberately chosen to wear last season’s garments.
A calculated pressure: if she dared to command him, she would need to settle Eschlide’s settlement in return.
Drinking the deliberately poorly-brewed tea to its last drop was his way of signaling that he did not despise her.
Soon enough, Francesca spoke in that smooth voice of hers, exactly as Caesar had anticipated.
“I shall resolve it for you.”
Caesar did not rush to offer his thanks.
As he waited in silence, Francesca set down her cup and smiled faintly.
“Should we become in-laws, such matters are hardly difficult at all.”
So that was it.
Francesca’s true aim was to place Mabel as the Crown Prince’s consort.
‘But why?’
It was common knowledge that Francesca doted excessively on the Crown Prince, Ian.
Why would she wish to bind such a precious son to Mabel, now that her status as a Phantom Princess had been revealed?
Without certainty of her true intentions, he could not afford to join hands with the Empress.
There were far too many dangers.
When Caesar did not answer readily, Francesca spoke again.
“Of course, it will not be simple. Perhaps it would have been wiser for me to summon the Grand Duke himself rather than the Duke to this meeting.”
At the mention of Zigmund, Caesar’s brow twitched visibly.
It was widely known that Caesar, born of a concubine, harbored deep inferiority toward Zigmund, the legitimate heir.
That Caesar’s only advantage over Zigmund was possessing Sophia—and that even Sophia’s child was actually Zigmund’s daughter—this too had circulated quietly through the circles.
“Then you should have done so.”
True to form, Caesar could not restrain his nature and bit back at her.
His single remaining eye gleamed as he fixed his gaze upon Francesca.
It was a disrespectful, arrogant light—yet precisely for that reason had Francesca summoned Caesar today.
“Why should I.”
“……?”
“Does losing parental rights in the eyes of the law somehow sever the bonds of blood with heaven’s scissors?”
Francesca lifted her teacup again.
The pressure was sufficient.
Now was the time to release it.
Francesca took a sip of tea and spoke.
“The biological father of the Phantom Princess is a Grand Duke, is he not? And the surname attached to her name belongs to him as well. Whatever the Phantom Princess accomplishes is an achievement of Asilonia, is it not?”
Clink.
At the sound of the teacup being set down, Caesar drew in a breath.
Francesca watched his expression shift—the look of a man who had just grasped an overlooked truth—and decided to let him sit with it awhile.
Caesar, for his part, now understood why Francesca had summoned him.
Trial or no trial, Mabel remained a daughter of Asilonia.
No matter how widely the rumors of Zigmund’s paternity had spread, in the eyes of the world, Caesar was still her father.
That was what mattered.
‘Of course…… The Empress is sensitive to appearances…….’
He also grasped why Francesca had designated Mabel as the Crown Prince’s betrothed.
At present, there was no young noblewoman in the Greenhurst Empire who commanded as much attention as Mabel.
Mabel was a Phantom Princess while simultaneously receiving the protection of the Grand Duke House.
Moreover, the Horn Spirit Summoning Ritual that Mabel had discovered had advanced alchemy tremendously.
Beyond that, there were rumors that the Sunglasses were actually something Mabel had created for a Basilisk Beastman.
‘If Mabel were to become the Crown Princess……’
It would elevate the Crown Prince’s standing—a man who had yet to accomplish anything—while simultaneously allowing Francesca to seize a portion of whatever Mabel would achieve in the years to come.
For instance, if Mabel next sparked a paradigm shift in fashion with something like the Sunglasses, a portion of those gains could flow to Francesca’s coffers.
And if the Crown Prince were alongside a Beastman Princess, even the Emperor—who had shown indifference to the Empress and Crown Prince until now—would find himself drawn in.
In other words, the Empress intended to use Mabel to capture both public attention and the Emperor’s interest.
‘And I shall emerge as the patriarch who has produced either a Crown Princess or an Empress……’
This would be achievement enough to wash away the stain of legal defeat at Eschlide’s hands.
Once his calculations were complete, Caesar answered with a benevolent smile.
“Yes, Your Majesty, your words are entirely correct. Mabel’s name is and shall remain ‘Mabel Asilonia.'”
He would gladly take her hand.
* * *
It was not long after Caesar had departed.
“Mother!”
The Crown Prince, Ian, had come seeking her.
He had just heard a story he could scarcely believe.
“You have arrived.”
Unlike the agitated Ian, Francesca’s expression remained perfectly composed.
“What business brings you to see your mother?”
She sat at her vanity, drawing a hairpin from her hair as she spoke.
Ian gazed at Francesca’s serene face reflected in the mirror.
Her unflappable composure made his stomach churn.
Ian moved closer to Francesca and spoke.
“I have only just heard the strangest rumor, and I came to ask you whether it is true.”
Though his voice cracking had not yet begun, the effort of suppressing his rage made it sound surprisingly low.
“And what rumor is that, Crown Prince?”
“That you have just finalized my betrothal.”
Ian was already at his limit.
“To the Phantom Princess Mabel Asilonia, no less.”
When he spoke Mabel’s name, a small retching sound escaped him—proof of how thoroughly enraged he was.
But if Francesca denied it as mere gossip, this anger would evaporate quickly enough.
Yet.
“You hear things quickly, don’t you.”
Francesca smiled faintly—not a denial, but an affirmation.
In that instant, Ian’s face in the mirror went rigid as stone.
It was as though ice water had been dumped over his head.
This couldn’t be real.
The rumor was actually true?
Ian’s lips curled upward in an ugly, trembling grimace.
“That’s… that’s not possible……”
Ian rushed forward and seized Francesca, his voice breaking with anguish.
“That’s not possible! How could my fiancée be such a wretched woman? How could she be?”

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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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