The Villainess Duke Lady Hides Her Identity - Chapter 73

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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 73

Reponya blinked in bewilderment, tilting her head back to look up at the Duke. She felt the gazes of the onlookers gathered to watch the procession converge upon her.
“Having fun?”
The Duke extended his hand as though entirely indifferent to such scrutiny.
‘I wore this straw hat precisely to avoid drawing attention!’
True, the rabbit ears meant people stared at her wherever she went, but still!
It had never drawn quite this much focus before.
‘I could always pretend to be just another Imperial citizen who adores the Duke.’
“Ponya.”
Catching the drift of her internal struggle, the Duke extended both arms toward her.
He hoisted Reponya effortlessly, settling her astride his shoulders.
“Ah!”
Reponya’s startled cry escaped as her vision suddenly soared. Her body went rigid, her hips pulled back in fear, her spine curving into an awkward half-crouch as she found herself perched on the Duke’s shoulders.
“Ponya.”
The Duke called her name, his voice warm with laughter.
“I would never let you come to harm. Don’t be afraid.”
Reponya’s hands hesitated. The Duke held her legs firmly in place with one large hand and returned to his horse in easy strides.
“You can’t—surely you’re not going to carry me through the entire procession?”
“Of course I am. It’s my chance to show the Empire that you’re my daughter. Did you think I’d miss it?”
The Duke mounted his horse with Reponya still balanced on his shoulders. Without thinking, she gripped his carefully groomed hair tightly.
But the Duke merely laughed.
“I once carried Fellens the same way when he was small.”
“Even my—even he did that?”
“He did. He enjoyed it so much he’d grab my hair and yank me this way and that, directing me wherever he wanted to go.”
On reflection, she thought with a wry smile, it was a mercy she’d never met Fellens as a child.
How on earth would she have managed a troublemaker capable of nearly yanking the Duke’s hair out by the roots?
“Those days were so painful I thought my hair would come out entirely. But you’re so weak, Ponya—I worry about you.”
Reponya stared at the Duke’s hair, which she held in both her hands.
Was he saying she should grip harder and not hold back?
She lifted her head and looked around. The Duke, who had ridden stern-faced among the crowds moments before, had suddenly softened into a warm smile while carrying a small child on his shoulders. The effect was undeniable.
She saw shock and wonder written across every face around them.
‘He has far more to lose than I do.’
For the head of a noble house to display such intimacy in front of witnesses was no small matter.
Reponya released the tension from her grip. She bowed her head.
“Hoo, hoo.”
She acted as though blowing gently on a wound to soothe it, and ran her fingers softly through his hair to smooth it back into place.
She couldn’t disrespect him in front of all these people.
“Ah.”
The Duke’s laughter rang out. He lifted Reponya from his shoulders once more, then set her down beside him on the horse, positioning her as gracefully as if seating a lady.
“I raised two sons myself, but you’re the first child who ever pretended to blow and kiss my wounds better, Ponya.”
Had her brothers never done such things? Reponya tilted her head in confusion, and laughter echoed from behind her.
“Ha. Our household is the same.”
She turned toward the voice and glimpsed a gilded carriage following behind them.
More precisely, she saw the Emperor, his chin propped on the carriage window frame.
…The Emperor?
“When I was ill, my sons used to crawl all over me playing with earthworms, while my daughters would collect weeds, call them medicine, and try to feed them to me.”
“My goodness.”
Reponya gasped and quickly bowed her head. She had just met the Emperor’s eyes.
“Both behaviors sound like attempted regicide, if you ask me.”
The Duke answered lightly, stroking Reponya’s back with one large hand to calm her startled nerves.
“Ha. But that’s precisely when I realized I had to take care of myself—that I could never fall ill. Have you ever eaten mud soup? The princesses were so meticulous about it too; if I didn’t eat it, they’d be heartbroken. That’s when I discovered every garden in the Imperial Palace had distinctly different soil flavor.”
Reponya lifted her head cautiously at the gentle warmth in his laughter. Her eyes met the Emperor’s again as he sat at the window frame, waving at the crowds watching the procession.
“So you’re the famous Craitan Daughter.”
Reponya swallowed dryly, her face tense. She’d never expected to meet the Emperor like this.
He seemed kind, and clearly doted on his sons and daughters—yet Reponya kept her guard high.
The Imperial Palace had approved her adoptive papers, and the Imperial Palace had approved her disownment documents. Both lay in the hands of the throne.
It meant that even the imperial family knew about the nobility’s “adoption game” and turned a blind eye to it all.
“Y-Your Majesty, I greet you—”
“Never mind, never mind. That’s not the sort of bow I’d expect in a situation like this. Duke Craitan seems so preoccupied lately bragging about his daughter. Now that I see her in person, I understand why.”
…The Duke has?
Reponya glanced up at Duke Craitan. He neither confirmed nor denied it.
“Does Duke Craitan treat you well? Combing your hair, tying it up for you?”
Combing and tying her hair? That had never happened. When Reponya slowly shook her head, the Emperor clicked his tongue as if amazed.
“Duke Craitan, you haven’t even once braided your daughter’s hair? Don’t you know how important hairstyles are to girls? Not even once?”
Reponya felt Duke Craitan flinch. The Emperor, shaking his head, turned to address her.
“Find time to visit the Imperial Palace sometime. I’ll show you around the palace itself, and if you spend time getting to know the princes—”
“My daughter has no intention of entering into a betrothal with Your Highness at this time, Your Majesty.”
A betrothal? Suddenly, a betrothal?
“How would you know that? If their hearts align well, it could happen!”
“Until my daughter reaches an age where she can make sound judgments for herself and choose freely, she will not be betrothed to anyone. I ask that you not push anyone onto her.”
Duke Craitan turned his head sharply and quickened his pace, putting distance between himself and the Emperor.
‘Until she reaches an age where she can make sound judgments for herself and choose…’
Until then, she would be allowed to remain in this Estate.
“Your Grace.”
“Mm?”
“You’ve been bragging about me?”
In response to Reponya’s question, Duke Craitan lowered his head. He reached out and carefully arranged her skirt, which fell to her ankles, as he answered.
“Of course.”
“But I… I have nothing worth bragging about.”
“What need is there to brag about something?”
“Hm?”
Duke Craitan laughed lightly.
“I could brag about you opening your eyes this morning and breathing.”
……
“Reponya. Look ahead.”
Duke Craitan gazed forward. Following his gaze, Reponya looked ahead as well.
She felt the stares of countless people watching the procession.
“They’re all curious about you, aren’t they?”
“…Yes.”
“Who are you?”
I am.
“…Reponya Craitan.”
Reponya murmured her own name as if entranced.
“Yes. You are a Craitan Daughter.”
Duke Craitan stroked her cheek with his large hand, as if pleased.
“You are the youngest of the House of Craitan, and you are my daughter.”
……
“Straighten your back. Reponya.”
Following the Duke’s words, Reponya straightened her hunched spine. She squared her shoulders and lifted her head with confidence.
“Show them who you are.”
All the shame she had felt moments before, receiving the gazes of thousands, now felt inconsequential.
The knights of House Craitan who walked ahead felt neither ashamed nor burdened by all these eyes upon them.
They carried themselves with such ease, as if it were only natural that all people looked up to House Craitan.
If Reponya bore the name of House Craitan,
then she too must carry herself the same way.
“…Yes.”
Reponya nodded.

* * *

Once the procession ended without incident, Duke Craitan returned to the Imperial Palace to complete his escort duties for the imperial family, and as the Pope’s prayer hour drew near, all the people in the streets made their way toward the Temple of the Divine.
“Really not going? Reponya.”
“No.”
“The true beauty of the Harvest Festival in the Capital lies in the Pope’s prayer and the Holy Power that spreads during it. People say that touching the Holy Power brings good fortune for the days to come, so everyone tries hard to get close enough to feel it.”
“I don’t want to.”
Despite Havelian and Fellens’s words, Reponya was unusually firm in her refusal.
‘Why would I go to the Temple of the Divine?’
Havelian and Fellens had looked disappointed, even panicked—they had been planning to somehow position her closest to the Pontiff so she could hear his prayers, rumors claiming such blessings brought good fortune.
‘I understand what you’re thinking.’
But Reponya had no intention of yielding this time.
“If you’re so determined to go, the two of you can.”
“What? Cotton-puff, you won’t even be there—why should I go with him—”
“Reponya. We only asked you to come because of the fortune. I’m not going to force you if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want to. …Rudeuum, if you’d like to hear the Pontiff’s prayers, you can go ahead.”
Her stance was uncompromising. She would not set foot in the Temple of the Divine under any circumstances. Watching her expression, Rudeuum spoke up.
“I didn’t come to hear prayers anyway. I wanted to play with you.”
As the crowd pressed toward the Temple of the Divine, Rudeuum gripped her small hand tightly, his face clouded with worry that he might lose her in the throng.
“I want to play with you. Only you, Reponya.”

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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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