Chapter 25

“Dylan.”

The crying Elisabeth’s voice was then heard.

“I think I’m very lucky.”

The following words were unthinkable.

“I have a good father and two older brothers in such a nice house. I don’t know how lucky I am.”

The voice that was trying hard to hold back the sadness was painful.

“That’s right. Where’s the lucky kid like you? You got lots of love from Victoire, Damon cherishes you and I…”

“…..”

“I like you.”

The cries which had been flowing from Elisabeth ceased. Elisabeth looked up at Dylan with a wet face.

“Really?”

As if it was something incredible, the small, round face dyed in pink asked.

Dylan was suddenly stifled by an unknown hot, ticklish feeling.

‘How can that person hate you? When you’re this lovely.’

Dylan wanted to ask. He wanted to scream and ask anyone.

But instead of asking, he hugged Elisabeth again. This time, like holding petals, very cozy. Preciously.

“Then I will contact you again.”

The Duke of Cabezo reached out his hand. Victoire shook hands with him. Old and thin, but never troubled, the soft hand hit Victoire’s rough hands.

‘Disgusting.’

Victoire managed to resist wanting to spit at Cabezo’s veins at any moment.

“But where’s Sir Dylan? Why doesn’t he come to see us off?”

Polia asked while looking around.

“Maybe he’s with the youngest by now.”

“You mean the newly adopted youngest kid?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Polia’s expression was bluntly distorted by Damon’s words. It was very rude, but Duke Cabezo didn’t blame his daughter.

“It makes no sense not to come out to see us off just to be with his youngest sister, especially when the Duke and Princess Cabezo are going.”

“Their relationship is special.”

Damon said, smiling to the end. But the tone was sharp.

“That’s enough, Polia. Let’s go.”

“But…”

Duke Cabezo pulled Polia’s hand.

“I understand, Father.”

Polia climbed into the carriage with her mouth pouting.

Looking away at the carriage, Victoire clenched his fist.

“Good patience, Father.”

“Dirty Cabezos. Someday, I’ll skin them and put them in the river.”

A deep cry of anger flowed out of Victoire’s mouth. Damon stared at his father’s bloodshot eyes with a darkened face.

Victoire’s dead father, the Duke of Leschine, used to write letters to his eldest sister who was married to the Kingdom of Titan. She was a great aunt to Victoire.

Victoire still clearly remembers the day when his father wrote her his last regards. Even the ink smudged the letter paper because he was playing around.

‘The Duke of Cabezo’s evidence was the letter sent out that contained the proof was different, and there was no ink smudge.’

It was a letter fabricated by the Duke of Cabezo by mimicking the handwriting of the Duke of Leschine.

‘My aunt didn’t even have the power to send a soldier to plot a rebellion.’

But luckily at the time, the Titan Kingdom was really preparing for war with the Empire. Fortunately, it did not go to war thanks to the foreknowledge. But the Duke of Leschine helplessly became the sacrificial lamb between them.

The furious emperor believed in the slander, and the Duke of Leschine never had a chance to explain.

Only Victoire and his sister, Baroness Terran, managed to save their lives thanks to Marquis Dalton’s father. Even Victoire’s aunt, who had been married to Titan Kingdom, was heartbroken to hear this news and killed herself, and so the Duke of Leschine was literally shattered.

Marquis Dalton, Victoire, and Baroness Terran and his wife lost their footing while running away. Thanks to him, Victoire lived his life as a dead man. He couldn’t settle down because he was afraid that his identity would be revealed even after he got married.

The young Dylan also had to stay away for a while, left in the care of others. Meanwhile, he managed to buy the name of Count Daughtry, a family that collapsed in the countryside.

All the time until he came to this occasion, and again to face the Duke of Cabezo, was painful for him.

‘I’ll make everyone pay back a few times.’

Blood formed in the hands of Victoire, who clenched his fist.

***

“This is… What is it?”

The Duke of Cabezo asked after looking for a long time at a piece of paper with a childish sentence written in clumsy handwriting.

“Polia wrote a poem for father!”

In front of the Duke of Cabezo, a girl dressed in fancy and luxurious clothes said with a big smile.

Her name is Polia Cabezo. The only ‘present’ child of the Duke of Cabezo.

Polia’s face with paper was full of expectations.

“Oh, poetry? It was poetry. It’s a poem.”

The Duke of Cabezo said, embarrassed.

I never imagined that this strange writing would be poetry.

The sentences were like children’s pranks, and the handwriting was developed like that of a five-year-old child.

He was eleven years old and a child, but when he studied literature, he could write a poem or two. Furthermore, the tutors assigned to Polia were all expensive teachers from the Advanced Academy.

‘That’s odd. Diana wasn’t brilliant, but she wrote poetry.’

The Duke of Cabezo had no way of knowing that Polia’s mother, Diana, had always been paying for a man’s poetry, or had stolen the poems of an unnamed wandering poet on the street.

‘Emilie’s been writing poetry since she was nine.’

Emilie’s poetry was so complete that it was unbelievable it was written by a child. It was just like her mother, Filena, who excelled at anything and choked the Duke of Cabezo. So it was by ill luck.

The woman who always showed herself a cold face. A duchess would spend money and obey, the duchess was a woman who was just saying what was right to him as a duchess.

“Hahaha. It’s been a long time since I’ve received a poem from a woman.”

On the other hand, Polia made him feel at home. The humor of Diana, who always made him laugh, was similar.

Watching Polia didn’t give him a headache, and he didn’t have to think much. Because she always took care of him and entertained him.

‘The poem is childish, but childlike and cute. The handwriting is a bit serious, but she can learn it.’

The Duke of Cabezo was satisfied. She didn’t seem to have any writing skills, but it didn’t matter.

‘You’re the only princess in the Empire, but you don’t have any writing skills.’

She’s the daughter of Duke Cabezo!

“Thank you. Polia. I will send you a piece of art that I bought at the auction not long ago.”

“No, Father. I didn’t write a poem in exchange for anything. I’m just happy if my father smiles.”

“Take it. It’s this father’s feelings.”

“Thank you, Father. I’m so glad to meet my father!”

Polia was speaking with emotion and suddenly began to sniff.

The Duke of Cabezo was not surprised. At this timing every time, Polia began to cry.

“You don’t know how hard it was to live in the slums with my mother. Polia was so happy that father came to save me and my mother.”

Polia used to bring up old stories every time the Duke of Cabezo did something good. In fact, it hasn’t been long since Polia lived outside the duchy. When Polia was born, he hurriedly washed Diana’s identity and put her in the open.

‘How thirsty are you for my affection do you even remember what happened when you were a kid?’

But the Duke of Cabezo passed Polia’s contradictions insignificant.

“Aren’t you a decent princess now? Stop and forget what happened then.”

“Father, you should always love Polia as you do now.”

“Do you have to say that? Don’t worry. You’re my only daughter.”

Polia ran and fell into the arms of the Duke of Cabezo.

“My daughter, stop crying. You have to smile now.”

Duke Cabezo’s hand patted Polia’s back. Polia crept out of the Duke of Cabezo’s arms.

Then she smiled coldly.

Polia learned a lot from her mother. What to do to survive.

A few years ago that night, Polia still vividly remembered that her mother Diana had secretly called her room.

Polia felt like the sky was falling. Diana had a chronic disease in her difficult life. The disease, which she thought had been cured by entering into the duchy as she lived in abundance, recurred.

Diana pressed her crying daughter hard.

Polia knew. Because Diana always told that in her ears more than enough.

With Emilie, whose biological mother was a high-ranking aristocrat, Polia will always be placed in the back. So they have to hold on to the Duke of Cabezo tightly. And in the end…

Diana said grimly. Polia nodded.

A few days later, Diana suggested a family outing.

Polia watched Diana, holding Emilie’s hand, climbing up the high hill, while she was held in the arms of Duke Cabezo.

And the sight of her mother falling down the cliff pretending to be pushed by Emilie’s hands….. She could only look.

Emilie clearly understood what her mother meant. She crushed Emilie ahead of her soon-to-be-dead life.

Polia cried out to Emilie, who ran down the cliff in tears.

Polia carried out her mother’s will exactly.

She didn’t let her mother down. She removed Emilie, who was a thorn in her side.

‘I didn’t expect you to die that easily.’

As long as Emilie was there, no matter how much she was loved by her father, she always had to be the second.

With the legitimacy of blood, everything would have been compared to Emilie. No matter how much she washes her identity, it doesn’t change the fact that Diana was a prostitute.

When Emilie died, Polia could be a princess completely.

‘Now it’s all mine. Emilie’s room, her clothes, her jewels, her place as the princess, and father too!’

***

Edith, sitting in front of Duke Cabezo, looked very uncomfortable. She was a senior graduate of the Imperial Academy and the youngest senior teacher at the Academy. (i’m not sure about the gender but i’ll change it if it becomes clear/ if edith shows up in the future chapters)

From a few years ago, she was teaching the Cabezo princesses once a week.

‘When Emilie was there, she didn’t seem uncomfortable, but ever since she taught Polia, she has always been like that.’

When she was teaching Emilie, Edith would rather step up and ask for a meeting with the Duke of Cabezo.

The conversation was mainly about how well Emilie was following and creative in class, so it was about how happy she was teaching in class.

She was busy bragging about her great pupil in front of the Duke, but the story for the Duke of Cabezo was so boring.

‘What do you mean you know about Emilie? It’s just that she ran into her mother.’

When I think of my ex-wife, Filena, who was just like Emilie when she was a child, my frustration soared.

It was due to the inferiority complex, but the Duke of Cabezo would never admit it.

But now the situation of Duke Cabezo and Edith had changed completely.

“I received a poem written by Polia today. Thanks to your good teaching, I’m getting a poem from my daughter.”

“Princess Emilie had already given her poetry to the Duke when she was nine.”

“Did she?”

Duke Cabezo answered absentmindedly.

“But as a father, my daughter’s poetry is good, but I thought it wouldn’t be for everyone.”

“I understand what you are trying to say. You mean Princess Polia’s writing skills seem to be lacking, don’t you think so?”

Edith spoke directly hinting she knew everything.

Duke Cabezo suddenly had an idea of shame. Such bizarre writing, as for himself, may look pretty in affection, but it wasn’t like that for Edith. It was too substandard for a poem written by a princess with a high-quality education. It was obvious that she was laughing at him and his daughter inside.

‘I’ve never felt this way when we were talking about Emilie’s studies.’

Not only Edith, but everyone in society knew Emilie’s academic excellence.

The Duke of Cabezo gave little response, even though they praised Emilie until she was salivating. To be honest, however, it was true that he was so proud of himself  that his shoulders soared because he was human.

‘That’s so obvious because I can’t get used to the assessment Polia’s getting right now.’

In society these days, when there were stories of their children’s studies, everyone was busy watching the Duke of Cabezo.

Polia’s problem wasn’t only with ‘poetry’. Whether she was neither motivated nor capable, there was nothing that stood out either.

“Your Excellency, frankly speaking, it’s beyond my ability to educate Princess Polia.”

The Duke of Cabezo, who was in bitter thought, looked at Edith in astonishment.