My Youngest Keeps Bringing Home Male Leads - Chapter 53

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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 53
“Ah, so it’s a topic you’d rather not discuss?”
As he scratched his jaw with an uncomfortable expression, Kesenor replied with a sneer.
“It’s less that and more that no one here seems interested in conversation.”
“Well, that’s only natural. You are a traitor, after all — Celesta.”
In that instant, a chill settled over the Dining Room.
Though the smile lingered at the corners of Kesenor’s mouth, sharp sparks seemed to ignite from him.
Goosebumps prickled across her skin.
Kesenor’s demeanor remained outwardly composed as he responded.
“What did you just say?”
But Rapitor pressed forward, undeterred.
“Why are you acting as though you don’t know? Surely you weren’t unaware?”
“Enough.”
The moment hung on a knife’s edge.
Ignitan finally stepped in, but neither of them acknowledged him.
Amy’s face had gone rigid, her eyes wide with sudden fear.
That’s when it struck her.
Agnes exhaled sharply.
Regardless of who was involved, this was ultimately a quarrel between guests.
As the mistress of this Mansion, Agnes had the authority to intervene.
“Rapitor.”
Agnes’s voice cut through the frozen silence.
Rapitor turned to her with a startled expression.
“Yes?”
“You’ve traveled such a great distance to find us. Thank you for coming.”
“Oh, you don’t need to be so formal about it. Please, speak freely with me.”
“I couldn’t. You are a guest who sought out our home.”
Agnes then turned to look at Kesenor, but he averted his gaze as though sulking.
In any case, it was Rapitor who had been rude just now, calling someone a “traitor” upon first meeting.
Once more, Agnes fixed Rapitor with a steady gaze and carefully measured her words.
“And the Marquis Celesta is also a guest who sought us out. I hope we can all ensure that nothing uncomfortable happens between us.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“Besides, today is especially precious—it’s the day my family, Amy and Rupert, have returned to us. Please, shall we enjoy the meal?”
Rapitor bowed his head deeply.
“I’m terribly sorry! I’ve ruined the mood.”
As Rapitor took his seat with a bright smile, Kesenor, who had been glaring at him, let out a hollow laugh.
Kesenor glanced back at Agnes, then sighed and withdrew his gaze from Rapitor.
It seemed he had decided to let the matter pass, for Agnes’s sake.
Once Agnes was seated, the food began to arrive.
‘There can’t have been much time to prepare.’
The main courses were Brown Trout and roasted young fowl.
The Brown Trout especially must have been caught fresh from the river the moment Amy arrived.
Beside it lay tender asparagus and a salad bursting with fresh vegetables, golden apple pie and soft bread.
Amy, who had seemed tense before, brightened immediately at the sight of the food.
Perched on Ignitan’s lap, she ate without hesitation the fish he buttered for her and the meat he cut into manageable pieces.
There was no time for Agnes to help.
Ignitan tended to Amy with practiced ease.
Agnes forgot to eat, watching Amy with quiet wonder.
She was impressed—not just offering her meat, but remembering to include asparagus and fruit.
Is that why Amy sat so contentedly on his lap?
“Doesn’t that trouble you?”
Agnes asked with concern, and Ignitan shook his head.
Amy paused mid-bite of asparagus and giggled.
“He fed me when I was sick too.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Thinking Agnes was incredulous, Amy added with a serious expression.
“The youngest lady speaks the truth.”
Rupert vouched for her as well.
“That is, indeed, quite unexpected. From his appearance, I wouldn’t have imagined such a thing.”
Kesenor suddenly interjected, pushing a plate with neatly filleted fish toward Agnes.
“Miss Agnes, do have something to eat. Your plate is quite empty.”
“I’m not a child, Your Grace!”
Agnes flushed at the remark, and Kesenor added with an amused smile.
“You’re the only one here who thinks of me at all.”
At that, Ignitan and Rapitor’s eyes both turned cold.
It was suffocating.
‘Thank goodness Silmare isn’t here…….’
How were they supposed to live together peacefully like this?
‘This won’t do.’
She couldn’t tell whether their hostility toward Kesenor stemmed from multiple causes or one refusal, or from some deep-buried past.
But she worried that living together would only breed resentment between them.
In any case, she had no wish to witness her guests locked in some silent contest beneath her roof.
‘When you think about it, Amy brought them all here.’
Had she truly not foreseen that things would turn out this way?
Agnes glanced sidelong at Amy, the source of all this trouble.
Amy had taken a large bite of the Strawberry Tart served for dessert.
Cream was smeared all around her mouth.
At the sight of it, Agnes couldn’t help but laugh.
The sound must have escaped, for Amy’s eyes widened as she looked at Agnes.
Watching her, Agnes felt a peculiar hollowness settle over her.
‘Ah…….’
The dining table was bustling, yet it was so different from what she remembered.
‘Bes and Edgar aren’t here…….’
Now that Amy had returned, perhaps they could come home too—after Agnes offered her apologies, of course.
She would have to send them a letter as soon as she could.
* * *
After the meal, Agnes gathered with Rupert and Amy in Amy’s Room.
Amy spent some time sorting through toys and pretty clothes before changing into a Light Pink One-Piece Dress.
She admired herself in the large mirror, spinning in slow pirouettes.
She looked like a delicate petal caught in a gentle breeze, dancing and twirling.
Agnes and Rupert watched side by side.
Both were wedged into Amy’s small chair.
Amy seemed most taken with the Light Pink One-Piece Dress, gazing at nothing but her reflection in the mirror when Agnes spoke to her in a casual, measured tone.
“Amy, can you tell me how you came to bring His Grace and Rapitor and the others here?”
Amy stopped moving.
Seeing the worry in her eyes, Agnes opened her arms wide to the girl.
Amy tumbled into her sister’s embrace.
“It’s hard.”
“Hard to explain?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Agnes understood what she was asking, but it was difficult for Amy to put into words.
‘How do I say this.’
A six-year-old mind, with a six-year-old’s knowledge, struggling to express something that overwhelmed even those limits.
I saw a novel where my sister appears.
In that novel, my sister is imprisoned and suffers, and in the end she meets a terrible fate.
As that ‘scene’ came to mind, her heart plummeted.
Fear crashed over her in waves.
Of course, Amy knew it wasn’t just that.
‘Sister would never give up.’
No matter how hard or difficult things become, she doesn’t collapse—she keeps trying to push through.
‘But the genre is tragedy.’
A genre that doesn’t stop at ruining the protagonist; it subjects them to every conceivable suffering and violence.
When she realized that the protagonist in that novel was her own sister, her chest felt as though it might burst apart.
Agnes gently patted the small, trembling frame.
“How did you know what was on the Back of my Hand?”
“I just saw it.”
More precisely, she had read it.
“I couldn’t have confirmed it myself. How did you know that too?”
“I did.”
“Amy, you’ve realized that if all the Seeds gather, they’ll fight over me, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yet you’ve brought them all to our home anyway. There must be a reason for that.”
“Because they’ll all protect you, sister.”
“Am I in danger?”
The moment those words left Agnes’s lips, dread bloomed in Amy’s chest.
The hand gripping Agnes tightened convulsively.
Her small fingers had gone pale white.
Agnes gently uncurled them, whispering as she did.
“Can you see the future, Amy?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“It’s already passed. Not now.”
“Something from the past?”
Threading through Amy’s fragmented words, Agnes worked out the shape of what she was saying, piece by piece.
“Or perhaps a possibility that would have unfolded if you hadn’t sent those people away.”
No.
More precisely: it was a time before Amy had been born.
But she could never say that aloud.
Her own birth had cost their mother her life.
The Laberose House had fallen to ruin because of it.
Agnes had suffered terribly because Amy existed.
If she spoke such an enormous truth, nothing would ever be right again.
Perhaps Agnes would come to resent her.
That you were born and Mother died. You should never have been born at all.
I’m so frightened.
So Amy held her tongue.
Though her trembling filled Agnes with pity, Agnes had no choice but to press forward with her questions.
She had to know.
Had to know whether the danger aimed at her was actually directed at this entire Mansion, Amy included.
To protect them all, Agnes needed to understand what she must do.

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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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