The Cartesian Empire was under the protection of spirits. And there are two family bloodlines that were chosen to have the protection.
First, is the Imperial Family Descartes. The other one is my family, the Duke of Diollus.
The spirits are only produced from these two families that were chosen by the spirits. The proof is the golden eyes.
Naturally, the bloodlines of the royal family and the Duke of Diollus, were all born with golden eyes, and those who have it were able to make a contract with spirit on their 15th birthday. Without exception, that means everyone.
âIt is a symbol of incredible and absolute power.â
Spirit lords have reigned as powerful rulers over a long history, exerting various types of absolute power that are commonly known as âsuperpowersâ.
Therefore, the Imperial family of the Descartes Empire regarded it as a virtue to provide the maximum number of members of the Imperial family, that is, spirits. That way, they can solidify the Imperial power.
In other words.
âHave as many heirs as possible!â
What does this mean?
âIt means that the Imperial family is known to have an unparalleled law of producing multiple heirs as possible.â
The current Emperor, Descartes XI, had seven wives.
The surprising fact is that, compared to the previous Emperors, Descartes XI, who had seven wives, was on the side of the vassal.
âAnd to think that Descartes V had thirty-two wivesâŠâ
Truly, amazing.
Anyway, the reason that this has become a problem is that there is only one throne, but there are dozens of children of the Emperor who are eligible to ascend to the throne.
Without considering them as older brothers⊠Without considering them as younger sisters⊠Older sister and youngest brother⊠Those seeds that wanted to cut their own bloodlines, and not to mention the Second Prince of the empire, Nathan van Rashmach Descartes, were one of those seeds.
(T/N: Seeds are what they called for the children of the Emperor.)
âLetâs see, the Crown Prince died around the time of Rubetteâs 16th birthday⊠So there is less than a year left.â
âTime is running out?â
As I looked at Wishtâs desirable face, I settled down with a bit of hesitation.
He was too handsome to pretend not to know that it was someone elseâs business.
âLady, the tailor is here.â
âOh, come on in.â
Just then, I heard Rebeccaâs voice telling me that she had brought in the tailor. I gladly got up from my seat.
The door opened and a girl came in who seemed a little confused about whatâs happening.
Her name is Becky.
âYouâre finally here.â
âYes, my lady. How have you been?â
âIâm doing well, thank you for asking.â
Wearing thick glasses and old clothes, she was an unknown tailor who made new clothes almost every day, to accommodate Rubetteâs growing body.
Kind and loyal. Her sense of design was a bit lacking, but she was an excellent sewer.
âBut, what did you call me for? It hasnât been that long since Iâve made you a new dress.â
âOh, I didnât call you today because of a new dress. Please sit first.â
When I suggested for her to sit down first, Becky tilted her head, thinking that this sudden call was very strange.
âI have a lot to discuss with you today.â
I smiled at the lucky tailor who would soon become famous by riding the rope with me.
***
(Rubetteâs POV)
One day, two days, three days, four days.
Time went by quickly and I perfectly adapted to Rubetteâs daily life.
In fact, there was no such thing as adaptation. As I absorbed all of her memories and emotions of the 45 years that she has lived, it would not be wrong to say that I already consider myself as Rubette.
There was, however, a distinct difference from the previous Rubette.
âYou did a great job today, miss. Was the morning air good?â
âYes, Rebecca. It felt good to run.â
The fact that I have been maintaining a workout schedule that the past Rubette canât do due to her weak determination, which I have already been maintaining for four days now.
âShe has been staying in her room all the time, so what kind of air did she get to suddenly change like that?â
âDidnât you hear the news? Theyâve said that she changed just after she fell into the pond four days ago and almost died. She even slapped Lord Ricky in the cheek.â
The living environment, In which she was usually confined inside her room 24 hours a day, has suddenly changed 180 degrees.
AndâŠ..
âBy the way, has she always been that close to the Duke in the first place? There was a rumor that said that the butler was fired and that is because Lady Rubette said so âŠ.â
âReally, is that true?â
âRegardless if itâs rumors or not, once the Duchess returns back, there would definitely be a riot. Can you imagine the two of them eating together every day?â
âShhhhhhh. Letâs just keep our mouths shut.â
âWhatâs wrong with having a meal with my dad every day?â
ââŠâŠâ
ââŠâŠâ
Iâm now in my dadâs room, which is a little more lively than the first time we saw each other.
I felt his gaze, and when I looked up, my father was staring at me.
âYes?â
Since I was sketching a dress while we were eating, I asked him as I ate my oatmeal with my other hand.
âWhat are you doing?â
âIâm sketching.â
âSo, what is it?â
âWhy are you so curious about this? Donât pay too much attention to me.â
ââŠâŠâ
As soon as I shoved it, my fatherâs mouth was completely bitten in dissatisfaction.
Two meals a day. Itâs already been four days since we ate breakfast and lunch together.
It was my emergency measure to put my fatherâs crazy lifestyle back on track and monitor him if he touches any alcohol and cigarettes again.
My dad then asked me with his hands crossed.
âThen why do you keep coming to eat with me after telling me not to pay attention to you?â
âWell, I donât need dadâs attention, not that I said that I was interested in it. Just hurry up and finish your meal.â
After giving a rough answer, I diligently moved my right hand to focus back on my sketch.
I could feel my father, who had been staring at me a little more, continue to eat again with a sour face.
ââŠâŠ?â
Hmm? I suddenly stopped sketching the dress ribbon and looked up.
Dadâs hand was suddenly heading towards a wine glass that was filled with smooth white wine.
âTak!â
ââŠâŠâ
The sullen dad stiffened as it was.
As soon as I knocked on the table, the kitchen maid who was waiting next to me hurriedly approached me.
âYes, my lady.â
âWhat is that? It wasnât there until lunchtime yesterday. Didnât I mention not to include any alcohol?â
âOh, it must be a mistake in the kitchen. Iâll get it right away.â
After meddling a lot over the course of four days, the kitchen maid, who was so proud of herself, quickly removed the wine glass without my fatherâs permission.
After a few days of experience, they seemed to have realized that whatever I said was the law, and not the Duke whenever itâs mealtime.
Dadâs lips twisted from dissatisfaction when the maid left the room together with the glass of wine.
âThe doctor said that Iâm healthy, so how long do I have to stop drinking? I canât even drink a glass of wine?â
âI know. I just thought that one of them was definitely not telling the truth, I just want to confirm it.â
I was worried that the family doctor would also have been bought by Molga, so I deliberately called in a commercial doctor in the capital and had my dad to be diagnosed, but they all mentioned that he was healthy.
âFor over 10 years, heâs been living his life in waste while drinking and smoking, but based on Rubetteâs memory he would die three years later. If itâs a three years deadline, there should be some sort of symptoms to be showing somewhere by nowâŠâ
I had only stopped him from drinking and smoking for four days now, and I could already see his complexion becoming better now. I could already tell that heâs doing well even if Iâm not a doctor myself.
My dadâs health is getting better now.
âWould it suddenly get worse three years from now? Or maybe alcohol and cigarettes werenât the problems? As I remember, my dad died due to his damaged body all because of alcoholâŠ.â
As I was thinking, my dad, snapped his finger to get my attention.
âA glass of wineâŠ.â
âNo, you canât. And you canât do that secretly as well. I can trust my dadâs conscience right?â
ââŠâŠâ
Dad, who looked at me with dissatisfied eyes, gave up and continued eating again.
After I emptied my oatmeal, I put the spoon down, waited for my dad to finish eating, and this time I opened up a copy of the magazine I had brought and read it.
ââŠAre you just eating that?â
My dad talked to me again when he saw me finish my meal.
As our eyes met, Dad swung a plate of juicy marinated meat toward me.
âEat more. Even mice can eat more than that.â
âIâm full. Whatâs wrong again? You know that I only eat oatmeal every morning.â
âHow can you survive eating like thatâŠâ
It was then.
A maidenâs voice came through the door with a shrill, small knock.
âDuke, the Madam has returned back home.â
ââŠ!â
So youâre finally here Molga Diollus.
The return of the demon who I had been desperately waiting for.
I have already thought of dozens of simulations in my head to figure out how to treat her when I finally met her.
I was confident that I would never be taken lightly, butâŠ
âUgh.â
Unfortunately, I ran into an unexpected problem.
Surprisingly, the trauma engraved on this body was not something that could be easily shaken off.
Tag! Tag! Tag!
The moment I heard that Molga had returned, my heartbeat raced uncontrollably.
âIâm so frustrated.â
âWhy are you being so undignified and vulgar?â
âYou are a child who does not fit the name of Diollus.â
âYour father and your brothers are all ashamed of you.â
âDid you know that everyone hates you?â
I didnât know that the aftermath of the trauma could be so terrifying, so I couldnât help but panic.
âYou are the one who killed your mother, so how could your father love you?â
âYour father was right. You should not have been born.â
âBaby, please donât tarnish our family and live as if you donât exist at all.â
âYou have to thank Lilia, for shining our family on your behalf.â
When the memories of Molgaâs abuse flooded through my memories, my body suddenly reacted accordingly.
âGasp⊠AhhhâŠâ
My hand, which became white and started to tremble, was suddenly revealed in the open.
âWhy am I being like this?â
A feeling of shortness of breath.
As I continued panting, my breathing was slowly being blocked due to anxiety, then a large shadow loomed in front of me.
ââŠDad? â
I didnât have the strength to lift my head, but it didnât matter. Because my father immediately bent his knees and made eye-level contact with me, as he held my shoulder.