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Translator: uly
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: A Daughter's Request
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"Had dinner yet?"
After the cigarette smoke had dispersed just right, I approached the empty sofa and sat down as I asked.
"...Is that why you came here?"
"Not exactly, but isn't it something a daughter can ask her dad?"
My father, who had been blinking blankly at my words, averted his gaze and shook his head.
"No, not yet."
"Good heavens. So you had six bottles of liquor on an empty stomach?"
I pointed in shock at the six liquor bottles rolling around on the table, and Dad made an excuse.
"Not quite. They just haven't been cleared away. I only had half a bottle after waking up a bit ago."
I sighed as I watched him gesture toward the one bottle that was half full. This was his excuse, too....
"Could you drink just a little? I can't tell you to quit cold turkey right now, but try cutting back gradually."
"...."
"I'm no doctor, but I have a feeling I know what your health is like. There's probably something seriously wrong somewhere, so call a doctor today and get checked out. If they tell you to quit drinking, do as they say. Got it?"
"...."
"Got it?"
"...I'll handle it."
Dad mumbled as he looked away. He seemed awkward with his usually aloof daughter showing interest.
"I'll come check tomorrow if you actually called a doctor and got examined."
"...."
"I will."
Dad, who had been staring intently at my persistent face, finally nodded reluctantly.
"...Fine."
"Good."
"So, what's this about?"
"Oh, I did have something else to say originally, but we can get to that later...."
I thought of Rob, who must be trembling out in front of the door, and continued.
"It's about the head butler."
"Rob?"
"Yes. There was something unpleasant earlier. I said I wanted to see you, and he told me to just go back to my room."
Dad paused, furrowing his brow.
"Did you perhaps tell Rob you didn't want to see my face?"
"No, nothing like that. How dare a mere butler act so insolent."
"So it is...."
I began in earnest, putting on a properly sullen expression.
"Actually, a month ago, I was in so much pain in the middle of the night that I tried to wake Rob to call a doctor, but he told me to just go back to sleep. He said he'd call one tomorrow."
"What?"
"I tried to tough it out and sleep, but it really hurt a lot. Still, he seemed annoyed, so I endured it."
"...."
"The next day, I forgot he'd said he'd call a doctor, so I asked again, and he said something about me being a high-maintenance young lady... It made me a little upset."
It wasn't made up. It hadn't happened to me, but it was a clear memory of Rubette's.
I pursed my lips and added,
"And that's not the only thing that's made me feel slighted by Rob. I always feel ignored by him. It's probably just my imagination, right?"
"No."
Dad closed his eyes tightly and irritably rubbed his forehead.
"He must be senile in his old age. Time to replace him. I'll tell Viego."
"But managing the staff isn't Brother Viego's responsibility...."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Dad paused.
Since he'd delegated authority to the family head, he thought his eldest son, Viego, was handling all family affairs.
"Brother can't manage everything alone. That's why Grandmother has been handling the staff for a long time now."
"Ah, I see."
Dad nodded after a moment of thought. He seemed to think it was fine for Molga to handle something like staff management.
"Then Molga...."
"Grandmother trusts Rob a great deal, though? She won't let him go."
"...."
"Father, as the young lady of the house, I believe there's definitely a problem with Rob's overall attitude toward his duties. You know what I mean, right?"
Unlike my tactful words, my expression must have been firm.
Please fire the head butler. Grasping the intent behind it, Dad slowly nodded.
"Got it. I'll handle it separately."
"Thank you. Sorry to bother you."
"No need to apologize for something like this. So, now, the main point?"
"Ah!"
I smiled sheepishly and held out my clasped hands.
"Could you lend me some money?"
"...Money?"
Dad raised an eyebrow and asked back.
"Yes, quite a bit."
Perhaps finding the request trivial, he frowned.
"You came all this way just to ask for pocket money?"
"It's not pocket money—I'll pay it back, so I'm asking for a loan. I want to try something, but I need a large sum."
"...."
"So, if you could write me a credit note in your name, I'll take it to the bank and withdraw what I need."
The house was overflowing with money, yet I was insisting on borrowing from the bank.
Dad tilted his head, looking even more puzzled.
"Why? I don't know how much you need, but just go to Viego and ask him. We're not in such bad financial shape that we can't cover your upkeep."
"Then I'd have to report every expense to Brother. I don't plan to waste it, but I need about 300 million marks, and I'm only fifteen. He'd definitely disapprove."
In Korean currency, that's 300 million won.
It was far beyond what Dad expected, but this family's wealth was immense. It wasn't an amount he couldn't give his daughter, so he kept looking puzzled.
"It's an amount I could give if you asked, and Viego wouldn't disapprove. Can't you even ask your brother that comfortably?"
"Yes. You might not know, but we're not close."
My immediate response surprised him, and Dad's mouth fell slightly open.
"And even if I got money from Brother this time, Grandmother would surely say something next time."
"...."
"Beyond that, since I'm still young, flashing around large sums won't bring good talk from those around us. So please let me use money in your name. It's not just asking for a handout—I'll repay the principal plus interest to the bank myself."
Dad stared at me silently for a long while, then stood up and walked toward the bed.
He rummaged through the nightstand drawer, pulled out a piece of paper the size of his palm, and scribbled something quickly with the pen and seal scattered on the desk.
"...Here."
When he returned, he handed me a credit note bearing his elegant signature and seal.
With just this single paper stamped with the Diorus Duke's official seal, borrowing any amount from the bank would be no problem. In simple terms, it was like a blank check.
"Hehe. Thank you, Dad."
I gave him a genuine, coquettish smile, and Dad paused, staring at me intently.
He soon rubbed his forehead wearily and said,
"If using large sums in your name draws attention, I'll allow borrowing in my name as you wish. But you don't need to repay it."
"No, I will repay it. I don't want to spend your money. Thank you for lending me the name."
As I carefully tucked the note into the inner lining of my dress sleeve, Dad looked bewildered.
"You don't want to spend my money?"
"Ah, at fifteen, I'm practically grown, so it's time to be independent. I can't rely on Dad forever. Help me this once, and from now on, I'll earn my own keep."
"Ha...."
His impassive face from our first meeting was gone; now Dad openly gaped as he spoke.
"To hear a fifteen-year-old say she's grown—it's absurd. You're still young. You should be spending your parents' money and needing their care."
"Have you been taking care of me, then?"
I shot back as if I'd been waiting, and Dad froze.
"The day before yesterday, I fell into the pond in the garden and barely came to. Did you know about that?"
"What? How did that happen?"
"I jumped in on purpose to die."
"...!"
As expected, Dad's eyes widened, his pupils shaking wildly.
I spread my arms wide and added with a playful smile,
"Kidding. I just slipped. I'm fine now, so don't worry."
But who would joke like that?
If he had any sense, Dad wouldn't take my words about jumping into the pond to die lightly.
After a brief silence, our eyes met.
"I'll be going now."
"Wait—"
Dad, who had reached out to stop me, froze solid. Upon seeing my expression.
"...."
Three-time winner of Best Actress for a supporting role—my dazzling acting skills. Conveying a flurry of emotions in a split-second expression to reveal my inner thoughts was my specialty.
"Stay here for a bit."
Hurt, anger, contempt...
And a transcendent indifference that said I expected nothing more from you.
With that sad, intricately nuanced expression, I said,
"I hated how indifferent you were, but since you're Dad, I tried to understand your hardships. I don't have memories with Mom, but you're different."
"Rubettria."
"Like other girls, I wanted to eat meals with Dad, go out together, throw tantrums...."
"...."
"But since you're struggling, I won't ask for it. You're so burdened you can't even care for a daughter who needs looking after. Right?"
At my words, Dad was speechless, his lips trembling faintly.
No one pitied Dad less for barely breathing after losing his beloved wife.
No one blamed him for delegating full ducal authority to his eldest son, Viego Diorus, when he was barely fourteen, or for showing no interest whatsoever in his only daughter.
So he had no choice but to be flustered by my honest confession.
"Keep living like you have been—without caring if I live or die. I won't bother you anymore, and I'll handle my own affairs from now on."
Hoping Dad was thoroughly shocked, I left the room.