A Desirable Attitude to Live as an Heiress of a Chaebol Family

Episode 9: You Came Like A Dream (IX)

When he heard her tone, the man’s lips twitched in mockery.

In the dim light, his rich green eyes gleamed. Teriot’s eyes were as eerily clear as her own pale ones.

Teriot put his chin on his hand, continuing to ignore his daughter’s anger.

“Oh dear.”

The man’s slender, straight fingers turned the pages of the book.

“You burst in here out of nowhere, and now I have no idea what kind of gibberish you’re talking about.”

“……”

“Did your lover threaten you with revealing a love letter?”

“I don’t write letters. Don’t blur the subject.”

She found this offensive and shot back with a terse remark. After realizing she had been flustered, Aicila paused to catch her breath.

“I brought a child from the House of Count Artes.”

“…You? Looks like tomorrow’s sun will set in the east.”

“Don’t you know the contents of Grandpa’s will?”

“I’m not interested.”

There he is, sitting as though his father’s will were just a scrap of paper lying in the ditch. I want to rip off this unemployed man’s hair. Burying that feeling with an imagination, Aicila approached him and recounted the contents.

You pretend to read a book, but I’m sure you’re listening. To begin, even if he only listens with one ear, this man is able to retain and recall all information.

As expected. Teriot flipped through the pages again and asked a frivolous question.

“Therefore. Ruby chose that little one?”

“Right. She’s the illegitimate child of the House of Artes.”

“Then you should check with Count Artes as to whether or not he has been involved in any sort of accident, why bother coming to me and making a scene?”

“Why do you think so? Didn’t I already tell you?”

That child is a ‘Duncan’.

…That means her parents are either Aicila, Reinhardt, or Teriot.

Teriot, in response to her frosty sneer, held up the book and indicated toward the door.

“Mhm, not my child.”

“……”

“Think about the possibility that you gave birth to her by mistake.”

“Maybe I have reached the age where I can have six or seven children, my dear father. I didn’t expect you to know my age.”

Teriot did not answer her caustic comments. Without saying a word, he nodded.

“Then she must be Father’s child.”

Congratulations on finding your aunt*, Daughter. (TL/N: Since if Ronell is Reinhardt’s daughter, then that makes her Aicila’s aunt.)

Aicila reacted by hurling the nearest book. To her, everything about him was revolting, even down to his callous fingers that caught it. Regardless of whether the other person was simmering or not, Teriot squinted his eyes as if the entire conversation was boring.

“You think I’m too tired to say anything. I certainly am not.”

“……”

“So she must not be a Duncan.”

“No. She is.”

When Teriot shrugged, Aicila sharpened her teeth at that irresponsible attitude. Right. Coming here to confront him won’t do anything except tarnish my character.

I must have been completely insane to come here still, knowing that.

After staring at the placid man for a moment, Aicila sprinted from the room. Slam, the loud slam of the closing door made Teriot sigh heavily.

My daughter is still the same.

He picked up where he left off reading like nothing had happened. As he flicked the pages of the thick book, the individual sheets of paper started to flutter over in a neat and organized fashion. Someone who didn’t know him well would have been impressed by his focus and diligence—

“Ha.”

—The bomb that my daughter threw away is a bomb.* (TL/N: Both literally translate as ‘bomb’, so he’s probably saying that he didn’t expect that the news she was gonna tell him would be that shocking.)

Teriot, unable to focus on the book at all, finally gave up and closed it with a click of his tongue.

“A Duncan…”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The sight of Lloyd’s face caused the Countess to stagger backwards and pass out. The boy’s hair was a tangle, his scalp was bare, and the cat’s claw marks could be seen all over.

Assisted to her bed by the maids, she could do nothing except scream in agony and rage.

“Aicila Duncan!”

She was so unaccustomed to using foul language that she simply couldn’t bring herself to finish the statement.

Yet, the recollection of the voice remained crystal clear. The voice that radiated obvious disdain and brutally attacked her. That jokey threat she spewed about how closing off the road may be disastrous.

It was insulting. Her entire being shook at the humiliation. Even if she had done anything wrong, the experience of having her own teeth bared was still very aggravating.

As she stewed in her indignity, she overheard the ruckus from downstairs. Hearing the sound of bustling movements, the woman’s wicked side came screaming out.

“What the hell is it!”

Her heels lightly trampled on the rug. As she looked toward the sound, her eyes grew wide and her body shuddered.

“I should be saying that, Madam.”

A rather tired-looking man stared at her.

Green eyes that looked like summer foliage and ruffled, brunette hair. His nose was sharp and his lips were firmly compressed, giving off a sense of power.

The shadows under his eyes were exceptionally thick.

Count Artes, the head of the mansion and her husband.

I thought he mentioned that the business trip will take a long time. Her moment of shame was fleeting, but her anger was unyielding. The Countess felt an immediate surge of animosity and resentment upon seeing him, and she made an attempt to smack him across the face. The Count, however, deftly deflected the blow by seizing her wrist.

“Where is Ronell?”

“Again, that B*stard. B*stard. B*stard! You, have you not come to see Lloyd’s face?”

“I’ve seen him.”

The Count leaned back slowly against the door as he replied coolly.

“It must have been because of your temper.”

“Ha!”

“Kids can’t grow up without getting hurt at all, anyway.”

“You always say that!”

The Count was merely silent at his wife’s screams. The blank gaze of his emerald eyes reflected a range of feelings, each of which quickly vanished.

“Madam.”

“……”

“Where is Ronell Artes?”

A voice so serene it was unsettling. The Countess winced and held her chin high in defiance.

Right, no one else knew, but Count Artes couldn’t push her down.

Since it’s all because of the faults of this f*cking man standing before me.

“Duncan Mansion.”

At the same time, though, the Count’s face became white and the Countess was so surprised that she forgot her fury. His complexion was that of a sick person who had a massive blood loss. Even if she had to picture him being angry, she never would have imagined him acting this way.

“Duncan?”

“…R-Roenard. Why, what’s wro—”

“Did you just say Duncan!”

The man’s voice rose. They had been married for ten years, but this was the first time the Count had ever yelled at her so furiously.

The woman sat halfway up in bewilderment.

“Yes. Miss Aicila Duncan—”

Bam. There was the sound of a fist hitting the wall. The Count’s hand bones were protruding from the tightness of his fist.

“F*ck!”

He swore briefly and hurried out of the room.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Meanwhile, Ronell laid on a humongous bed in a spacious room, blinking.

Big. Very big.

She felt threatened by the vastness of the space. She worriedly counted sheeps in her mind as she stared at the moonlight filtering through the drapes. It didn’t work at all.

Maybe it’s because I fell asleep in Miss Aicila’s arms, I can’t sleep even if I tried to.

…Actually, I don’t want to sleep. She was sure she would be looking at the wall of the closet once she woke up. She’d rather stay up all night in her dream than see Lloyd’s mean face.

I-I want to turn on the light. Can I turn it on?

Ronell wavered, extending her hand before quickly retracting it. She became increasingly nervous that something in the shadows would try to bite her arm.

‘On the streets at night, there is a monster that can eat a small child in one bite.’

Mary threatened her with a stern face.

When Ronell thought back on the scary story, she wept and wiggled her toes. She tucked her feet into the depths of the big, soft blanket.

Should I sleep like this? It’s fine when dawn comes— No. I still need to turn on the light.

Ronell mustered her resolve, reached out, and tugged the string.

Click. The numbers on the clock were visible through the low lighting. Seeing the hour hand pointing at 4, Ronell hopelessly froze.

Wh-what should I do? This won’t do. I might oversleep or take a nap at this rate.

…Wait. Right now I’m dreaming, so I shouldn’t have to worry about sleeping too much, right? Ronell, unsure if she was dreaming or awake, murmured into her pillow.

“I wish it were real.”

Is it real, indeed. As the voice in her heart chuckled sardonically, Ronell’s mood darkened and she buried her head even farther in the pillow.

‘It’s reality.’

That’s what Madam Aisa said.

The cat, I mean—Madam Aisa kindly taught her its name—Ruby also slapped my arm with its tail. As if to accept that this is reality.

The part where she was hit was quite painful.

…Uh-huh. No matter how real it appears, I have to remind myself that this is only a dream. Because it’ll hurt less if I don’t bother hoping.

Ronell, wanting to find Ruby, cautiously peered beneath the bed. It wasn’t quite as dark as it had been earlier. Since she didn’t expect the monster under the bed to show up, she stretched her legs out with ease.

After locating and donning her slippers, she wiggled her toes. Madam Aisa reassured her that the pair of black velvet slippers she was wearing belonged to her. Considering she always wore the same old worn out shoes, she never thought that this soft and warm touch could be hers.

To prevent her slippers from falling off, Ronell shifted her feet as she neared the door. For a while, she doubted that she would be able to get to the hallway.

“Mmm…”

She wished to be swept up by this incredibly sweet dream. In her dream, she didn’t believe anybody would physically hit her, therefore she didn’t have to worry about anyone raising their hand as she left the room.

But as soon as Ronell stepped into the hallway, she rolled her eyes blankly.

Compared to the shed of the House of Count Artes, where she had previously resided, this new place was much different. The shed was a narrow, familiar space where only mice occasionally roamed, but the hallways of Duncan Mansion were vast and intimidating. She peeped through, but quickly realized that the doors went on forever.

Ah, what do I do…

She was scared that she would run into someone in the hall, that she would wake anyone up, and the hallway itself.

The next moment, Ronell jumped from her spot.

“Is it you?”

Suddenly, she heard a drowsy voice.