Chapter 2
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Chapter 2 In "From Bastard to Patriarch," Lucella failed to raise Lucian properly. Lacking confidence in her ability to nurture such a reckless child, she abandoned him instead—fleeing the grueling demands of motherhood to reclaim her own life. As a result, Lucian had become willful and perpetually troublesome. Had the Duke of Bellomen fulfilled his role as a father, things might have been different, but his work kept him perpetually absent. He returned home at most four times a year. Because of this, he remained ignorant of the fact that the protagonist, Edwin, was being tormented by Lucian. And so, abandoned by the one person in the world who should have been his ally, Lucian only grew more twisted. 'It's almost laughable when you think about it. Did she really believe a child would raise himself simply because she gave birth to him?' I could forgive Lucian for being the child of a woman the Duke didn't love. But surely Edwin deserved proper care. He was, after all, the child of the Duke's lover. And Edwin had apparently lived in the Orphanage until the Duke came for him. 'This isn't neglect—it's abuse.' I ground my teeth, thinking of the Duke's chambers that would remain empty once again today. Yet what mattered most to me now wasn't the Duke's paternal affection. 'In the original story, Lucella abandons Lucian when he's seven years old.' But I would never abandon him. No matter how troublesome he became, no matter how much his mischief tormented me. 'Protect my child.' Lucian was my beloved Sister's son, after all. When I thought of the love my Sister had shown me, I could endure even having my hair pulled by this child. 'But I can't let Lucian grow up to be the kind of child who actually does pull people's hair.' I would never leave Lucian's side, but if his temperament could be gentled, it would make raising him considerably easier. 'And if Lucian's nature becomes gentle, he won't harbor resentment toward the protagonist.' It wasn't just the protagonist. Lucian's violent temperament caused friction with many people. Which meant that if Lucian became a good child, he would never make enemies, never be killed by the protagonist once he became Duke. So first, I needed to correct Lucian's spoiled, disagreeable nature.
"...Ptooey." ...First, I needed to teach him that putting salt in his aunt's tea was wrong.
"Aunt's an idiot! How could you not notice salt going into the tea?"
Lucian found it hilarious that I'd unwittingly drunk the salted tea, clutching his belly as he giggled uncontrollably. 'I was too busy trying to save your life, you little brat!' I wanted to say it, but I held my tongue.
"Lucian, sit down."
I called to him in a measured voice.
"The tiger that summons lightning! Kuwooogh!"
But Lucian pretended not to hear, continuing to play with his toy tiger instead.
"Lucian Bellomen."
"...Tch."
When I added his surname, Lucian reluctantly took his seat. At least he had some sense of propriety—I supposed I should be grateful for that.
"Putting salt in your aunt's tea is not acceptable. You mustn't play such pranks."
"But Aunt wasn't paying attention to me anyway."
"Then you should call your Sister. You could even tug on her clothes."
Lucian pouted.
"That's not fun."
"You can't torment others just because you find it amusing."
I knelt down to meet Lucian's eyes—golden irises identical to my own and my Sister's.
"Just yesterday, you did exactly that. Because you played pranks with flour, your Sister fell and hit her head. It could have been a serious accident."
"But that was hilarious!"
"Laughing when someone gets hurt is truly wrong."
"...."
"Your Sister was sad. She was in so much pain, yet you stood there laughing at her."
Until now, I had simply scolded Lucian without much thought. Part of it was because it seemed natural that he'd be punished for misbehaving, but.... 'If not for me, there's no one else in this mansion who can discipline Lucian.' The servants and retainers of lower status cannot freely scold Lucian, the young master of House of Bellomen. A vast chasm of social standing exists between them and him. It would have been ideal if the Duke of Bellomen took charge of raising Lucian himself, but sadly, the man called "father" who should discipline the child was never home. In the end, I alone could discipline Lucian. That's why I had taken on the role of scolding him whenever he misbehaved. But yesterday, through a book I recalled, I came to a realization. Lucian was not a child who would listen to mere scolding. It would only serve to provoke his childish rebelliousness. 'Then I need to change my approach.' Rather than simply punishing him, I should explain why such behavior is wrong. So that Lucian wouldn't develop pointless defiance. So he'd become someone who understands why tormenting others is unacceptable.
"...Sad?"
"Yes. Your Sister was in so much pain, yet you seemed happy watching her suffer."
Whether my new approach was working or not, Lucian watched my expression carefully. This was the same child who would normally snort dismissively and pretend not to hear when I scolded him.
"How do you think you'd feel if your Sister laughed while standing beside you when you were upset?"
"I'd be annoyed."
"Right? If you understand that feeling, then you shouldn't play pranks that trouble others anymore."
"But I really like having fun...."
Of course it wouldn't be easy. With a naturally mischievous disposition and a lifetime spent this way, he couldn't change overnight. Still, if I worked hard enough, things could be different.
"Just bear with it a little. This world doesn't revolve around you alone, Lucian. If you like having fun, I'll buy you more toys from now on."
"...Understood."
Watching Lucian nod obediently for the first time in his six years of life, I felt deeply moved. I thought that if he grew up this way, Lucian would never become a villain. Yet that peace shattered before even three days had passed. * * * "Aaaahhh!"
At the sudden scream, the servants and I hurried toward the source of the sound. The origin was the middle of the Corridor. The person standing there with his face covered by his hands was Count Chernin, a retainer of House of Bellomen.
"Count Chernin? What are you doing here?"
Did he perhaps see an insect? I scanned the surroundings and asked.
"I heard a scream just now, so I wondered if..."
Count Chernin lowered the hand that had been covering his face. Upon seeing his newly revealed visage, I found myself at a loss for words.
"Your... your beard, what happened to it...?"
Count Chernin's beard, which had extended down to his chest, had been shortened considerably. Moreover, it was jagged at the ends, as though rodents had gnawed through it.
"What do you think happened?"
Crash! Count Chernin clenched his fist and struck the wall.
"I was reviewing documents in the Conference Room and dozed off for a moment. When I opened my eyes, the young master was beside me."
"..."
"With scissors in hand, no less."
There was no need to guess—this was undoubtedly Lucian's doing.
"I am truly sorry, Count Chernin."
I knew how dearly Count Chernin treasured his beard.
"I am mortified."
Knowing this all too well, I could not bring myself to raise my head.
"Apologies won't help! It's not as though the cut beard will simply grow back."
"..."
"From now on, see that the young master is properly warned to prevent such incidents!"
"Yes. I shall scold him severely."
"Though I suspect scolding won't be much use with him."
It was a remarkably disrespectful remark to make toward the heir of House of Bellomen, yet I had no retort to offer. The Count's observation was entirely justified. 'I thought he was finally starting to understand...' After bowing to the Count several times, I headed straight to Lucian's room.
"Lucian!"
As I threw open the door, I saw Lucian sitting on the floor with his back to me.
"What is it?"
Lucian turned his head toward me. 'Oh...' Upon seeing the child's innocent face, I was rendered speechless. The beard that should have been on Count Chernin's chin was now plastered squarely on Lucian's. My shock was brief, and I quickly narrowed my eyes sharply.
"How many days has it been since your aunt warned you, and you're causing trouble again!"
I placed my hands on my hips and shouted at Lucian. Yet Lucian's face remained utterly innocent.
"I want a beard too, but my chin doesn't grow one. So I cut his off and brought it here to stick on my face like this!"
Lucian swept the beard down like Count Chernin and gave a theatrical "ahem."
Needless to say, there was not a shred of dignity in the gesture.
"Your aunt told you before too. You must never play pranks that hurt others' feelings."
"If I cut off the beard, does Count Chernin's heart hurt?"
"Of course. You know how much Count Chernin treasures his beard. How would you feel if someone stole the thing you cherished most?"
The example struck a chord, and Lucian's eyes narrowed with indignation.
"That's absolutely not allowed. My things are mine alone. No one else can have them!"
Greed and possessiveness—the very roots of Lucian's conflict with Edwin, the protagonist. Lucian had always been a greedy child when it came to his belongings. But how infuriating it must be that Edwin, a mere stray who wandered in, received their father's attention in one fell swoop—attention that even Lucian himself had never received. And now, with the dukedom slipping from his grasp as well, his fury was entirely justified.
"See? You hate it when someone takes what's yours. So why do you carelessly lay hands on others' things? Besides, a beard isn't even an object."
"Because I'm bored!"
Lucian spoke with such brazen confidence, his chin thrust upward defiantly.
"Aunt said she'd buy me lots of toys."
"I have too many toys. They're not fun anymore."
"Then let's have a sword fight with Aunt."
"Aunt's too slow. I don't want to sword fight with a turtle."
"...."
"Everything here is boring. Boring, I say!"
After stomping his feet and shouting for a moment, Lucian flopped flat on his back.
"Why won't you let me do fun things!"
"Cutting someone's beard is not a fun thing. It's a terrible deed."
"I hate Aunt!"
I hate you too, Lucian. You, who throws tantrums without understanding a shred of my effort to raise you properly. But I couldn't voice such thoughts to a child.
"Hate me all you like. We're going to find Count Chernin and apologize. You'll promise never to do such a thing again."
"No! I won't apologize! I'll keep doing it!"
"Lucian!"
I spoke sharply, but Lucian paid no heed. Still sprawled on the floor, he thrashed about before beginning to roll across the ground.
"You said you'd be on my side! You said you'd love me even if the heavens split in two! Why won't you take my side? Why do you always scold me?"
"I scold you because I love you. So you don't grow into a wicked child."
"If you love me, you shouldn't scold me! You should adore me no matter what I do!"
"I can't do that."
"I hate Aunt! I hate you more than anything in the world!"
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