The Villainess Duke Lady Hides Her Identity - Chapter 9

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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 9

The weight pressing down on their shoulders was so immense that the vassals couldn’t even lift their heads.
The majesty of the Empire’s one and only Grand Sword Master was perfect in every sense of the word.
“This isn’t just any child—it’s Reponya. Reponya Craiton. I’m quite certain I sent her name in writing, yet it seems no one bothered to read it properly.”
Duke Craiton muttered as if grinding his teeth, his knuckles white where blue veins stood prominent. He exhaled heavily through his nose.
“I graciously permitted this sudden visit without informing you beforehand of the birth of a new heir. If I’d known you meant to treat me as you would a seven-year-old boy, I’d have sent you away.”
“Your Grace, we spoke out of turn at the cost of our loyalty only because we all cherish House Craiton—”
“Those who dare speak carelessly of an Adopted Daughter—”
Duke Craiton laid the sword from his belt upon the table.
“will pay a price.”
Death.
It was a command to atone only through death. At the Duke’s resolute expression—to say nothing more—the vassals pressed their lips firmly shut.
That was when it happened.
Knock-knock.
A knock sounded at the door of the Grand Conference Room.
“I said no one was to enter.”
Duke Craiton, his mood already unsettled, furrowed his brow and spoke irritably.
Yet the door to the Grand Conference Room opened despite his sharp tone.
“Are your ears stuffed shut? I distinctly said no one was to come in—ugh!”
Duke Craiton was snapping out his irritation when he caught sight of the person who had entered the Reception Room, and his mouth snapped shut in shock.
The vassals tilted their heads in confusion.
“Your Grace.”
A voice so warm and precious it seemed to thaw the frozen air in an instant wrapped around their ears like a gentle embrace.
Everyone in the Reception Room turned their head.
A child stood there, so strikingly similar to the late Duchess it was as if she had risen from the dead.
The vassals exchanged glances—a look of sudden recognition that this was the ‘Reponya’ the Duke had adopted.
They began to understand why Duke Craiton had suddenly decided to take her in, why he was responding with such force.
The vassals looked upon Reponya with disapproving, contemptuous eyes.
But Reponya paid them no mind.
‘Right. Just as I thought—they’re all glaring at me.’
Reponya, bearing the full weight of their sharp stares, moved to the Duke’s side.
“Ponya.”
Duke Craiton’s face, his hand pressed to his brow, looked fiercer than ever.
Of course, Reponya remained unmoved.
“What are you doing here? I distinctly ordered you not to come to this area.”
He hadn’t wanted to show the child he planned to cast out to the vassals while they played parent and child. But Reponya’s arrival seemed to have put him in a foul mood.
Yet Reponya too recognized this as too good an opportunity to pass up.
“Well. Never mind that for now. We’re in the middle of a meeting—”
“Your Grace.”
Reponya cut off his darkening tone, stretching out her small hand. And she grasped one of the Duke’s large fingers firmly.
The Duke, having only a single finger caught, started as if subjected to cruel torture and flinched.
“Too many people don’t understand.”
Wait. I’m saying something important right now. Focus.
“I want to stay with Your Grace for a while.”
It was sweet-sounding, but Reponya’s voice was utterly flat as she spoke.
Duke Craiton gazed down at the small hand grasping his finger.
All the while, the vassals watched Reponya’s ingratiating manner toward the Duke with displeasure, their eyes full of malice.
After a long silence, the Duke spoke.
“You’re right. I was wrong in my thinking.”
“Hmm?”
“They don’t even hide their malice in my presence. They’ll be far worse when I’m not here.”
Duke Craiton reached out his hand.
Lifting Reponya gently with one hand, the Duke set her on his lap.
“Yes. Ponya, you’ll be safest and most secure right beside me.”
Suddenly finding herself on the Duke’s lap, Reponya blinked at the startled vassals.
“All of you—pay your respects.”
Duke Craiton cradled her head in his palm, stroking it gently as she knelt before him.
He had granted her request.
‘Good.’
Reponya’s fingers curled into a tight fist, hidden from view.
After searching the entire Estate and finding no trace of the Family Heirloom, only the Duke knew its location.
She’d wanted to monitor his every move, but had lacked a proper pretext—until now, when these retainers had conveniently arrived and made their hostility so blatant that she’d been handed the perfect excuse on a silver platter.
If she played the frightened, helpless girl who needed someone to lean on, she’d wagered the Duke would grant her wishes out of sheer responsibility. Her gamble had paid off.
“How wonderful to meet you all.”
Reponya swept her gaze slowly across the retainers, committing every face to memory.
One never knew when such knowledge might prove useful.
“I’m Reponya Craiton.”
The retainers accepted her greeting with formal courtesy, though their resignation was plain.
Once the pleasantries concluded, one of them rose from his seat.
“This discussion hardly seems fit for the ears of an Adopted Daughter, Your Grace. Perhaps we might resume our conversation at a more convenient time.”
He was saying, quite plainly, that they could not conduct internal business in the presence of an outsider.
Yet the Duke did not argue—either because he saw no harm in speaking of matters other than Reponya herself in her presence, or because he simply agreed.
“You may all withdraw.”
Once they had gone, only the Duke and Reponya remained in the Grand Conference Room.
‘I suppose I can get down now.’
Reponya hesitated, perched on a man’s lap for perhaps the first time in her life.
Since arriving at the Estate, she’d eaten three full meals a day and enjoyed dessert twice over.
She could feel the weight settling on her frame—a tangible reminder of her newfound abundance.
‘He must find me heavy.’
She shifted awkwardly in his lap.
“Ponya.”
A curious note sounded from above her head. When she turned to look, her eyes met the Duke’s—his chin still resting in his palm.
“I’m told you’ve been eating well lately.”
The comment sounded almost like a question about how much longer she intended to sit there. Reponya scrambled to climb down, but the Duke’s hand caught her, leaving her suspended in an awkward posture.
“Is there some problem with the reports I’ve been receiving?”
Huh?
‘Is he saying I’ve gotten too heavy?’
Duke Craiton tilted his head, studying her with genuine concern.
“They said you’re eating well. But you really are, aren’t you?”
Reponya swallowed hard.
“How much are you eating?”
He even pressed for details.
The question was so absurd that Reponya couldn’t fathom how to answer it.
What on earth was he driving at?
A man of his rank didn’t ask idle questions.
Asking whether she was eating properly and how much—that meant…….
‘I really have gotten too heavy, haven’t I?’
She had been eating rather excessively of late.
‘Maybe I’ve been consuming so much that we’re running short of provisions.’
Noble houses lived in relative luxury, but resources like food were finite—and he might resent spending them on an adopted child.
If it wasn’t that, then perhaps…….
‘Has my appearance become unsightly because I’ve gained weight?’
She’d heard that some nobles managed the weight and proportions of even their youngest children from infancy.
There were three possibilities, and she could only guess which one it was…….
“You’re far too light, actually. Tsk.”
Too light? Was he being sarcastic on purpose? Reponya tilted her head, bewildered as she tried to parse his meaning.
“The fact that you have no response tells me someone among my informants has been lying to me.”
Duke Craiton’s expression turned cold as stone, and the sharp, killing intent that radiated from him so close by made Reponya flinch.
“I eat reeeally well!”
Her pronunciation was mangled, but that hardly mattered now. She had to answer first.
Unable to fathom why the Duke had suddenly grown angry, Reponya rushed to elaborate.
“Is that so? How many times a day?”
Reponya’s fingers fidgeted nervously. Afraid of being scolded if she admitted to eating too much, she hesitated—and the Duke’s brows knitted together sharply.
“I eat three times a day and have two snacks each time.”
She confessed it like a criminal, her face burning. She was already regretting not having turned down that last dessert.
‘Am I going to be punished?’
Perhaps he was right. Duke Craiton’s hand was large and solid—a blow from it would hurt terribly on a five-year-old’s body.
Reponya tensed, bracing herself so she wouldn’t be knocked flying if the blow came without warning.
But what came back was not a strike, but a grave voice.
“You’re not eating enough.”
“Huh?”
“Your brothers ate four meals a day plus two snacks at your age. Not to mention late-night eating and raiding the kitchen at dawn.”
Were those even people? Beasts, more like.
Reponya swallowed the words rising to her throat and reassessed the situation.
Perhaps he’d grown serious because she seemed wanting compared to those two sturdy children.
Or maybe he simply found her frail appearance distasteful.
Reponya spoke hastily.
“I’m already eating through all of the Duke’s food stores.”
“That’s admirable.”
She was praised for eating through the food stores, and somehow the killing intent that had been hovering dissipated into calm. It made no sense, but the threat had receded, and that was what mattered. Reponya exhaled with relief, pressing a hand to her chest.
It was incomprehensible, but at least the danger had passed.
“Your accent comes through when you’re flustered, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
“Ponya, children your age often can’t control their pronunciation. But you always mind it.”
Because lisping was shameful.
“Ponya. Your second brother, Fellens, was babbling until he was five too.”
Wasn’t that rather late?
Duke Craiton rose, holding Reponya securely in his arms.
“At the time, scholars were quite worried it was so late, but now he speaks well and is growing healthily. When there’s a child who develops slowly, there’s always one who develops quickly—you needn’t worry about such things, Ponya.”
If he meant her second brother—
“The one who’s been unable to graduate from the Academy for three years?”
“…come to think of it, he’s not exactly thriving even now.”
Duke Craiton’s brow furrowed.
“In any case, pronounce things however is comfortable for you. I’ll understand you.”
There was no need to worry about being slower than others.
She’d never heard such a thing before.
The Pope had always said she must never be eliminated, that the slow are abandoned to death alone, that everyone but oneself is a rival and an obstacle to surpass, that she must mind others’ gazes and never reveal a weakness.
That all others exist only as competition, and one must always exceed them without showing any flaw.
But here—
‘Something feels strange.’
Reponya glanced sideways at Duke Craiton.
Noticing her gaze, Duke Craiton lowered his eyes.
Their eyes met.
“Ponya.”
“Hmm?”
“I hear you’ve been wandering around the Estate lately, looking around.”
It seemed he received reports on everything concerning Reponya.
“Stop wandering about from now on.”

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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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