"Not knowing isn't a problem, Talulah. After all, isn't the purpose of education to help us learn what we do not yet understand?"
In a quiet study, The Duke spoke patiently to a young draco seated before him.
Kashchey had never been especially skilled at raising children.
In the past, he had only acted as a guide—shaping, teaching, and subtly molding those with potential.
So why, this time, had he chosen to raise the girl himself?
Partly, it was a whim. But more importantly, this particular draco was far too exceptional to entrust to others.
One of Kashchey's many bodies had once had private dealings with Edward.
And Edward was no ordinary man—he was the rightful heir to Victoria's throne. How could the Boss of Victoria miss such a promising investment?
When the Ursus nobles suffered their first defeat at Lungmen, the Boss had reached out to Edward, offering him support.
At that time, Edward, fresh from driving the Ursus nobles out of Lungmen with his sworn brother Wei Yenwu, was full of pride. He returned to Victoria with wife and daughter, determined to secure the dracos' place.
Only to be beaten back by the Aslans in disgrace.
For Kashchey, investing in Edward was like buying a lottery ticket. A gamble. A small wager. If it paid off, excellent. If not, nothing lost.
It had been a casual move, for most of Kashchey's attention was devoted to aiding Theresis.
Though the investment had failed, at least it worsened Victoria's instability, accelerating Theresis' influence over the kingdom.
Now, here was Talulah: Victoria's rightful heir, bearer of Yan's royal claim, and a child of limitless potential.
How could Kashchey possibly entrust her to another's care?
To be frank, if she were not still a child—in the most impressionable stage of her life—he might have already seized her body outright.
But the girl harbored hidden hatred for him.
Kashchey understood well enough why. To her, the death of her father and her forced exile from Lungmen were tied inseparably to him.
In the eyes of the young draco, all Ursus nobles were evil. A simple, childish binary.
It didn't matter that Kashchey himself had not been involved at the beginning.
What difference did that make?
When one stood as high as Kashchey, one had to bear such burdens.
Just as any leader, when a subordinate failed, would be blamed not only for the subordinate's error but for their own responsibility in leading them.
The greater the power, the greater the responsibility.
At least, most of the time.
Kashchey had full confidence he could gradually dissolve Talulah's hatred for Ursus—and for himself. All he needed to do was redirect it onto the individual nobles who had truly acted against her.
Kashchey despised underlings who left their leaders to carry the blame.
No, such people didn't even deserve to be called underlings.
And if he could not ease Talulah's hatred of Ursus or himself?
Then he would seize her.
Kashchey had already planted a dormant seed in her heart long ago, waiting only for the day she bared her draconic fangs at him.
---
Talulah herself was deeply troubled.
First, she had been kidnapped by the Ursus nobles, passed around like a hot coal none of them wanted to hold.
Every day she had watched in fear as these cruel, beast-faced nobles bickered over where she should be sent next.
If you didn't know what to do with me, why take me at all?
The young Talulah couldn't understand.
She only knew she had been torn from Lungmen, from her friends, and thrown into this unfamiliar world.
Eventually, she had been placed in the grand estate of Duke Kashchey—suddenly, inexplicably, named as his heir.
Strange. Isn't this duke supposed to be immortal?
---
Kashchey soon held a banquet to celebrate the confirmation of his heir.
The purpose was clear: to show the nobles just how seriously he valued Talulah.
He would not risk her growth being disrupted by some reckless fool suddenly leaping into her path.
Of course, it was impossible to eliminate all such threats, but at least the chances of interference would be greatly reduced.
Talulah stiffly clutched Kashchey's hand, at a loss as she glanced around at the nobles beaming friendly smiles her way.
Many of them, she knew, had never once shown her a kind face before.
The young draco's grip tightened instinctively around Kashchey's hand.
Kashchey felt the pressure and understood at once.
As I thought—still just a child.
---
"You want to go back? I'm sorry, that's impossible… But I'll allow you to write letters."
"Talulah, as my heir, you must at least master the most basic etiquette of nobility."
"…Have I done something wrong in your education? I never taught you to eat with knife and fork in one hand and chopsticks in the other."
"You really are troublesome. Afraid of snakes? Fine, I'll move those little darlings elsewhere… Raising children is nothing but trouble."
"Talulah, your swordsmanship is far too straightforward. Perhaps you think that with your physique and Arts you can easily overpower opponents. But if it were truly that simple, why would anyone spend years honing their technique?"
"This is Natalya, a younger girl staying here for now. Treat her well."
"You wish to study at a university in Victoria? Hah… And why do you think I would allow that? You are a draco—one of Victoria's rightful heirs."
"It seems you long to escape my control."
"But I do appreciate your honesty. So I will forge an identity for you. If it is ever exposed… then you will have to decide your own fate."
"…Must you keep flaunting the rhetoric I taught you? Words are the least reliable of tools. Now pack your things, and go enjoy your university life."
"…I regret this. What have you learned in Victoria?"
"Have you forgotten everything I taught you?"
"Yes, you are correct—I do have the power to improve the lives of the Infected across Ursus. But you must understand: every reform benefits one group only by taking from another."
"You think too highly of me. I cannot conjure medicine out of thin air. I cannot provide every Infected the same care I grant those under my domain."
"The Infected under my rule are skilled—they can pay for the resources they consume. As for ordinary Infected… I have no reason, nor any desire, to waste my efforts on them.
"…That you recognize your mistake pleases me."
"But why will you not correct it? Why do you insist on marching toward your own destruction?"
"To deliberately make yourself Infected… It seems I've given you far too much freedom, Talulah."
So this is how being "father" feels like?
Troublesome… yet strangely amusing.