It was the morning of the fourth day since the lord's daughter had been sick. The lord, who had not moved for the past three days, called him into his office. In his monotonous office, the lord was smoking a cigarette and looking out at the summer roses that had begun to bud. His eyes were as uninteresting as when he had looked at his daughter. A man who was bored and dull about everything.
“The reason I bought you is...”
As soon as he saw Sibyl, he spat out the cigarette he had been holding and stared at the man who was mumbling. He didn't bother to look at Sibyl, who didn't show even the slightest sign of humility as a servant like he did a few days ago. The lord was just indifferent.
“Because she wanted you.”
The cigarette that was between his fingers went to the ashtray. Sibyl looked at the man who had bought him for his daughter with a face that did not love his daughter at all. The Lord did not raise his whip even though the slave's sharp eyes were scrutinizing him without any reason. He was a strange man. There were more than one or two strange things in this small castle.
“If not, I would have killed you or sold you.”
The lord sat down. The surface of his haughty face was dry and rough. Sybil read his daughter from her neat outline. Unlike hia daughter, who had a small, round face like a white pebble on the stream and her features cut and pasted on, her father, the lord, had a manly and neat outline.
It's not that there were no similarities, but the lord's daughter had almost nothing in common with the lord. It was more like she had inherited her mother's features. Sibyl thought of the lord's wife, who was almost like a recluse and never left her bedroom. A face he had never seen before was roughly drawn.
“You are an irreparable thing.”
The lord, who immediately grasped Sibyl's true nature, stared at him dryly. Sibyl did not respond. Just like that day, she just stared blankly at the lord.
“I don’t want to know your origins. You’re just a black dog that a slave trader sold to me. And that kid’s the same.”
'That girl.' Sibyl, who was searching for his daughter in the outline of the lord, chewed on his words slowly. The Lord never once referred to his daughter as his daughter. Even as he said that he did not sell him or kill him for his daughter, his face did not show even a little affection.
“So please try to please her a little.”
“...”
“The petty things she wants are nothing to a slave. When you think about the life you led, you don’t need to feel resentful.”
It was a monotonous voice. He closed his mouth as if he was choosing his words for a moment. His blue eyes were turned out of the window, not at Sibyl. When the dry eyes turned back to him, he felt nauseous.
“It’s not like she’s going to live long anyway.”
“...”
“So what you have to do is keep her alive until she’s old enough to have children. Do you know what I mean?”
The gaze that had fallen from the air to the documents flew back to him. Sibyl did not answer. The Lord continued speaking regardless of his answer.
“Don’t let that kid go to bed again.”
It was when the lord's words that he should be a good toy to play with and live a moderately pleasing life were still lingering in his mind. The lord's daughter, who had woken up after four days of fever, called him. Sybil looked down at the child who had been neglected by his own blood relatives. The child wanted to climb on him. He willingly bent his knees. She had bought him as a dog, so there was no reason not to give her his knees. He got up on the awkwardly touching floor and put the girl on his back. He thought she would burst out laughing, but the girl immediately got on his back, grunted, and threw the pillow at him.
Then she uttered a dirty curse and made a gesture of throwing a punch. She stamped her feet and blushed as if she had nothing on her mind. Sybil held the crying girl in his arms. Then he remembered what her nanny had whispered to him four days ago, glancing at him.
'Easy-it's okay, Miss. Those bad guys were bothering our miss, weren't they?'
Those things that whispered while gathering the wind and exhaling long... To the lord’s daughter, Sibyl was the bad thing that tormented her. Sibyl’s hand patted her thin back. The girl buried her face in his chest like a barnacle.
He thought back to what her father had said. He had told him that she would not live long anyway, so he should adjust everything to her needs.
He had no expectations of his daughter. So he did not educate her as a successor, let alone discipline her as a daughter of a nobleman. His goal was to live until she was old enough to marry and have children. That was all.
Travasta is not a country where daughters cannot inherit property and titles. The reason the lord is so cold to his daughter is because she is sickly. In short, if a daughter dies before reaching adulthood, his property and title will all be returned to the royal family.
Starting out as a knight's heir and receiving a noble title, Roate's ancestors were slaves and were the adjutants of heroes who made contributions in the most brutal war since the founding of the nation, the Maxman War. If there had been no war, such recognition and advancement in rank would not have been possible. Thus, the first Viscount Roate was the first slave-born knight and nobleman to emerge from Travasta in 350 years.
It was the first time since the founding of Travasta that a slave had won a title and risen in social status solely through his own ability, and it must have been a destiny for the lord to protect the title and property. However, his only daughter was sickly and useless.
Considering that the lord was young and had decent skills, it would not have been bad to expand the scale of the business using only the money and fill the granary of the estate. However, the lord showed no signs of being greedy about expanding the business. In any case, even if he made the estate rich with greed, if there was no successor to inherit it, it would all fall into the hands of others.
So, the lord's daughter had to give birth to a child before she died. If she couldn't give birth to a child, she had to marry a collateral relative and then die so that there would be some meaning to her life... He whispered softly while stroking the head of the sobbing girl.
“Stop crying.”
“...Don’t cry.”
The girl answered quickly. Then she buried her face in his chest again. Her heart was located under his chest where her face was buried. He stared at her small earlobe, enduring the tickling sensation. The round flesh was cute. He wanted to nibble it.
The child who kept rubbing her face against his chest, saying she didn't like it, looked at him. Her sparkling agate eyes were as beautiful as jewels. That strange beauty became a knife and stabbed his heart. Her innocently sparkling eyes were pitiful and strange.
The words the lord had said floated through his mind. It sounded like he was saying that as long as he gave her what she wanted, he didn't care what she did to him. To that extent, he didn't care about anything other than whether she lived or died. So he didn't care what he did to her.
'Toy...'
Who could be the toy? His mouth was dry. A fresh girl, like a plump bud, smiled brightly. He remembered the wrinkles on that cute face because of him. His chest felt as if it had been cut by the rising moisture, but then an indescribable burning sensation made him immerse himself in joy. His heart boiled even more when he thought that he could grab it and do whatever he wanted with it. His... His possession... His girl. The one the lord had placed in his hands. In other words, the girl he was holding in his arms was a tribute the lord had offered to the King.
“I wish she went somewhere else.”
The girl who was hugged tightly hummed in a slurred voice. Her lips were cute as she pursed them. If he bit her upper lip, it felt like juice would flow out. He felt a strange burning sensation in his heart beating under his chest where her small head was touching. He tightened his lips which were pulled by the pain that slowly seeped in.
The thought of the childish jealousy that was being shown to him made him want to sink his teeth into the nape of her neck right away. He gently comforted the girl he was holding and opened his lips.
“That won’t do. That child is mine.”
He remembered how miserably Else had been distorted when he had claimed possession of Liena. He used that misery as proof of his love. Every time Else acted violently toward the maids in the castle, including Liena, he felt like he was kissing her deeply.
Every time that beautiful face would contort violently and nervously and burst into tears, he felt like he owed her all to himself. He had monopolized her, but he couldn't get anyone to acknowledge that monopoly, so he felt dirty for more than a day or two.
The lord wanted to tease his daughter appropriately. He was always displeased with the girl who couldn't control her temper and cried every day with a fever. As long as she got married and had children, he didn't care whether she had a slave as a government official or lived in celibacy with her husband.
That was the problem. The dirty derogatory terms like government and male prostitute were nothing to Sybil. In the sense that he owned Else, he was already Else's master, and he was also hers. They were a man and a woman who monopolized each other. In the sense that they desired and lusted, they were the same as each other. And to pass on such a worthless land and title, would he hand over a woman who belonged to the King to a collateral man?
Else didn't even try to go against it. She was a woman who cried day and night, saying that she wanted him, but never said that she loved him. She was a woman who desired him but didn't know what desire was. She followed her father, who had no expectations other than marriage and reproduction, thinking that he was her father. She had no intention of going against his expectations, nor did she have any resistance.
“The reason I bought you is...”
As soon as he saw Sibyl, he spat out the cigarette he had been holding and stared at the man who was mumbling. He didn't bother to look at Sibyl, who didn't show even the slightest sign of humility as a servant like he did a few days ago. The lord was just indifferent.
“Because she wanted you.”
The cigarette that was between his fingers went to the ashtray. Sibyl looked at the man who had bought him for his daughter with a face that did not love his daughter at all. The Lord did not raise his whip even though the slave's sharp eyes were scrutinizing him without any reason. He was a strange man. There were more than one or two strange things in this small castle.
“If not, I would have killed you or sold you.”
The lord sat down. The surface of his haughty face was dry and rough. Sybil read his daughter from her neat outline. Unlike hia daughter, who had a small, round face like a white pebble on the stream and her features cut and pasted on, her father, the lord, had a manly and neat outline.
It's not that there were no similarities, but the lord's daughter had almost nothing in common with the lord. It was more like she had inherited her mother's features. Sibyl thought of the lord's wife, who was almost like a recluse and never left her bedroom. A face he had never seen before was roughly drawn.
“You are an irreparable thing.”
The lord, who immediately grasped Sibyl's true nature, stared at him dryly. Sibyl did not respond. Just like that day, she just stared blankly at the lord.
“I don’t want to know your origins. You’re just a black dog that a slave trader sold to me. And that kid’s the same.”
'That girl.' Sibyl, who was searching for his daughter in the outline of the lord, chewed on his words slowly. The Lord never once referred to his daughter as his daughter. Even as he said that he did not sell him or kill him for his daughter, his face did not show even a little affection.
“So please try to please her a little.”
“...”
“The petty things she wants are nothing to a slave. When you think about the life you led, you don’t need to feel resentful.”
It was a monotonous voice. He closed his mouth as if he was choosing his words for a moment. His blue eyes were turned out of the window, not at Sibyl. When the dry eyes turned back to him, he felt nauseous.
“It’s not like she’s going to live long anyway.”
“...”
“So what you have to do is keep her alive until she’s old enough to have children. Do you know what I mean?”
The gaze that had fallen from the air to the documents flew back to him. Sibyl did not answer. The Lord continued speaking regardless of his answer.
“Don’t let that kid go to bed again.”
***
It was when the lord's words that he should be a good toy to play with and live a moderately pleasing life were still lingering in his mind. The lord's daughter, who had woken up after four days of fever, called him. Sybil looked down at the child who had been neglected by his own blood relatives. The child wanted to climb on him. He willingly bent his knees. She had bought him as a dog, so there was no reason not to give her his knees. He got up on the awkwardly touching floor and put the girl on his back. He thought she would burst out laughing, but the girl immediately got on his back, grunted, and threw the pillow at him.
Then she uttered a dirty curse and made a gesture of throwing a punch. She stamped her feet and blushed as if she had nothing on her mind. Sybil held the crying girl in his arms. Then he remembered what her nanny had whispered to him four days ago, glancing at him.
'Easy-it's okay, Miss. Those bad guys were bothering our miss, weren't they?'
Those things that whispered while gathering the wind and exhaling long... To the lord’s daughter, Sibyl was the bad thing that tormented her. Sibyl’s hand patted her thin back. The girl buried her face in his chest like a barnacle.
He thought back to what her father had said. He had told him that she would not live long anyway, so he should adjust everything to her needs.
He had no expectations of his daughter. So he did not educate her as a successor, let alone discipline her as a daughter of a nobleman. His goal was to live until she was old enough to marry and have children. That was all.
Travasta is not a country where daughters cannot inherit property and titles. The reason the lord is so cold to his daughter is because she is sickly. In short, if a daughter dies before reaching adulthood, his property and title will all be returned to the royal family.
Starting out as a knight's heir and receiving a noble title, Roate's ancestors were slaves and were the adjutants of heroes who made contributions in the most brutal war since the founding of the nation, the Maxman War. If there had been no war, such recognition and advancement in rank would not have been possible. Thus, the first Viscount Roate was the first slave-born knight and nobleman to emerge from Travasta in 350 years.
It was the first time since the founding of Travasta that a slave had won a title and risen in social status solely through his own ability, and it must have been a destiny for the lord to protect the title and property. However, his only daughter was sickly and useless.
Considering that the lord was young and had decent skills, it would not have been bad to expand the scale of the business using only the money and fill the granary of the estate. However, the lord showed no signs of being greedy about expanding the business. In any case, even if he made the estate rich with greed, if there was no successor to inherit it, it would all fall into the hands of others.
So, the lord's daughter had to give birth to a child before she died. If she couldn't give birth to a child, she had to marry a collateral relative and then die so that there would be some meaning to her life... He whispered softly while stroking the head of the sobbing girl.
“Stop crying.”
“...Don’t cry.”
The girl answered quickly. Then she buried her face in his chest again. Her heart was located under his chest where her face was buried. He stared at her small earlobe, enduring the tickling sensation. The round flesh was cute. He wanted to nibble it.
The child who kept rubbing her face against his chest, saying she didn't like it, looked at him. Her sparkling agate eyes were as beautiful as jewels. That strange beauty became a knife and stabbed his heart. Her innocently sparkling eyes were pitiful and strange.
The words the lord had said floated through his mind. It sounded like he was saying that as long as he gave her what she wanted, he didn't care what she did to him. To that extent, he didn't care about anything other than whether she lived or died. So he didn't care what he did to her.
'Toy...'
Who could be the toy? His mouth was dry. A fresh girl, like a plump bud, smiled brightly. He remembered the wrinkles on that cute face because of him. His chest felt as if it had been cut by the rising moisture, but then an indescribable burning sensation made him immerse himself in joy. His heart boiled even more when he thought that he could grab it and do whatever he wanted with it. His... His possession... His girl. The one the lord had placed in his hands. In other words, the girl he was holding in his arms was a tribute the lord had offered to the King.
“I wish she went somewhere else.”
The girl who was hugged tightly hummed in a slurred voice. Her lips were cute as she pursed them. If he bit her upper lip, it felt like juice would flow out. He felt a strange burning sensation in his heart beating under his chest where her small head was touching. He tightened his lips which were pulled by the pain that slowly seeped in.
The thought of the childish jealousy that was being shown to him made him want to sink his teeth into the nape of her neck right away. He gently comforted the girl he was holding and opened his lips.
“That won’t do. That child is mine.”
***
He remembered how miserably Else had been distorted when he had claimed possession of Liena. He used that misery as proof of his love. Every time Else acted violently toward the maids in the castle, including Liena, he felt like he was kissing her deeply.
Every time that beautiful face would contort violently and nervously and burst into tears, he felt like he owed her all to himself. He had monopolized her, but he couldn't get anyone to acknowledge that monopoly, so he felt dirty for more than a day or two.
The lord wanted to tease his daughter appropriately. He was always displeased with the girl who couldn't control her temper and cried every day with a fever. As long as she got married and had children, he didn't care whether she had a slave as a government official or lived in celibacy with her husband.
That was the problem. The dirty derogatory terms like government and male prostitute were nothing to Sybil. In the sense that he owned Else, he was already Else's master, and he was also hers. They were a man and a woman who monopolized each other. In the sense that they desired and lusted, they were the same as each other. And to pass on such a worthless land and title, would he hand over a woman who belonged to the King to a collateral man?
Else didn't even try to go against it. She was a woman who cried day and night, saying that she wanted him, but never said that she loved him. She was a woman who desired him but didn't know what desire was. She followed her father, who had no expectations other than marriage and reproduction, thinking that he was her father. She had no intention of going against his expectations, nor did she have any resistance.
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