.jpeg)
In truth, Yevgenia—who was the spitting image of her father, save for his blunt personality—did not share a particularly affectionate relationship with him.
Perhaps it would have been different if her mother, who was said to have a temperament softer than white whipped cream, were still alive.
Because there was no one to act as a bridge between them, the father and daughter of House Martir had never shared any significant emotional exchange.
Nevertheless, her father, Duke Martir, wanted to express his love, and the method of love he eventually arrived at was 'inexhaustible financial power.'
Whenever Yevgenia felt even slightly upset, he would soothe her with diamond necklaces or lavish dresses.
Furthermore, he tried to grant her everything she ever desired.
While such things are impossible without a truly great love...
'It's... a bit far from being a warm, happy home, isn't it?'
One of the reasons 'Yevgenia' had gone astray was likely because she believed she wasn't loved at all.
It would have been difficult for the young Yevgenia to recognize such a clumsy way of showing love.
'If he had just told her he loved her, she wouldn't have been so obsessed with Raymond.'
While lost in these somewhat bittersweet thoughts, I arrived at the dining room and felt a bustling atmosphere.
"What is all this commotion?"
"The Master has just returned to the estate."
"Ah. He's back earlier than expected. I should go greet him."
I firmly readjusted the indoor shawl I had been about to take off.
As I approached the main entrance where the servants and maids were lined up, the doors opened with ghostly timing.
My father, who had been about to push up his slightly slipping glasses, stopped in his tracks the moment he spotted me.
"Yevgenia, what brings you here? Is there something else you want?"
"What? No! Is that the only time I come to greet you? I just happened to come down and heard you had arrived, so I thought it was a good time to come out."
"Hmm, is that so?"
Seeing my father dressed neatly in a formal uniform jacket that looked uncomfortable just by looking at it felt quite unfamiliar.
Thus, I walked silently without speaking first until we reached the dining room.
After a long, awkward silence, the salad arrived, and I hurriedly picked up my fork, thinking, 'Finally, something to do!' But then—
"So, what exactly are you trying to ask for? Do you want me to move the engagement ceremony even closer?"
"Ack, cough, cough! Wh-what?!"
"However, marriage is out of the question. That will happen after you have perfectly completed your successor training..."
"No, no, Father! Wait a moment!"
The bitter taste lingering in my mouth no longer felt like the taste of vegetables.
This was... the taste of a flag that must be avoided at all costs!
"Anna, could you clear the dining room for a moment? Tell the chef as well..."
"...Yes, My Lady."
Perhaps because she knew that one letter of the name engraved on me had disappeared, Anna quietly dismissed the staff without a word of protest.
Judging by her utterly stiff expression, she seemed to have a rough idea of what I was about to say.
'I really have to take the fact that I erased the name on purpose to my grave, hmm.'
Before long, the dining room was empty. Leaving only my father and me.
It had taken barely five minutes for the situation to change like this. Perhaps that was why my father still held his knife and fork in his hands. However, he soon silently set the cutlery down, leaned back slightly in his chair, and asked.
"...What on earth is going on? Did you kill someone?"
"Father, what do you take me for? Killing someone... how could you say something so scary..."
I cast my gaze downward and acted hurt, but I couldn't fool my father's eyes. As he simply stared at me with his arms crossed, I shook my head and raised both hands.
"It is that serious, but I haven't harmed anyone else. I swear."
"..."
"Oh, really! I'll swear on Mother's name. Will you believe me then?"
Only after I finally mentioned my mother did my father's gaze soften slightly.
Sigh—I let out a long breath to calm my fluttering heart.
To deceive a father as perceptive as mine, I had to be mentally prepared.
If I showed even the slightest hint of suspicion, I would be in deep trouble.
I lowered my eyes, clasped my hands together as if hesitating, and fidgeted as I began to speak.
"This morning, when I woke up..."
"When you woke up?"
"Well, Raymond's name, which was clearly drawn on my collarbone..."
"The name?"
'Come on, tears! Now is the time to flow!'
I tried my hardest to squeeze out tears, but not even enough to dampen a single eyelash emerged.
Since it had come to this, there was no other choice.
I had to be an amazing fake-crier.
"Sob! I can't bring myself to say it!"
I buried my face in my hands and hunched my shoulders as much as possible to look as pitiful as anyone could.
Then, I heard the sound of my startled father pushing back his chair and standing up.
'It's understandable that he's surprised. Until now, Yevgenia thought that screaming and being stubborn always got her what she wanted.'
'Yevgenia' would rather have a knife to her throat than show a weak side like I was doing now.
In other words, even if someone threatened her with a blade to her neck, she wasn't the type of person to cry and cling to someone's pant leg.
Perhaps that was why my current appearance came as quite a shock to my father.
Approaching me, my father gently stroked my shoulder and upper arm with his large hand and asked.
"Oh, Zhenya. What on earth happened?"
"Th-that is..."
"Don't worry and just tell me. Is there anything this father cannot do for you?"
'Uh, oh. I didn't expect him to react this much!'
My conscience pricked at the reality that I had to spin a lie to a father who cared for me this much, and I couldn't bring myself to speak.
While I was just gauging his reaction, my father brought up the magic word.
"Surely that fellow Raymond didn't leave a wound on your body?"
'No, why does he think everything that happens to me is related to Raymond?!'
At this rate, my father might misunderstand again and reach a strange conclusion.
Just like how he wanted to hurry the engagement instead of breaking it off right now!
I hurriedly gripped my father's hand on my shoulder and looked up at him.
"Father! It has nothing to do with Raymond! I mean, it has a little bit to do with him, but that's..."
"What do you mean 'a little bit'?"
"It would be better if you saw it for yourself. You won't believe me even if I tell you."
I brushed aside my messy hair and gathered it to one side.
Then, I untied the ribbon of my dress and pulled the fabric down to reveal my collarbone.
"Yevgenia, why the sudden..."
"Look closely, Father."
There was no need for further explanation.
Once he saw that the first letter of Raymond's name, 'R', had vanished without a trace, everything would be understood.
Beneath the small scab I had made with a quill, the skin was perfectly clean.
But as expected, the small scar seemed to capture my father's attention first.
"How did you get hurt here? As I thought, that bastard Raymond..."
"No! I told you it's not! The wound was just a mistake I made. Forget about that trivial thing and look below it, Father."
When I pointed to the vanished part of the name and pushed my shoulder forward, my father finally seemed to understand the situation.
"This is..."
"How could such a thing happen, Father? Perhaps because I no longer love Raymond, did God personally take back our destiny?"
Although the story hidden behind the 'tradition' of names wasn't particularly beautiful, the prevailing theory was that the manifestation of a name was the touch of divine power.
Therefore, to 'Yevgenia,' who had learned only common knowledge, she would have no choice but to believe that its disappearance was also the touch of divine power.
...That was my plan to convince my father.
So, while I was doing my best to act ignorant and bewildered, squeezing out dry tears, my father suddenly spoke.
"Yevgenia, names do not appear and disappear in that manner."
"But Father, my name really has disappeared."
"That is..."
My father seemed lost in thought for a moment while stroking my hair, then he grabbed both my shoulders and turned me toward him.
Facing my father unexpectedly, my mouth shut instinctively.
The same red hair as mine, but entirely different blue eyes.
That gaze, which felt as if it were piercing right through me...
"Yevgenia."
"Ye-yes?"
"How much do you think you know about the Atrux Imperial Family?"
Perhaps it would have been different if her mother, who was said to have a temperament softer than white whipped cream, were still alive.
Because there was no one to act as a bridge between them, the father and daughter of House Martir had never shared any significant emotional exchange.
Nevertheless, her father, Duke Martir, wanted to express his love, and the method of love he eventually arrived at was 'inexhaustible financial power.'
Whenever Yevgenia felt even slightly upset, he would soothe her with diamond necklaces or lavish dresses.
Furthermore, he tried to grant her everything she ever desired.
While such things are impossible without a truly great love...
'It's... a bit far from being a warm, happy home, isn't it?'
One of the reasons 'Yevgenia' had gone astray was likely because she believed she wasn't loved at all.
It would have been difficult for the young Yevgenia to recognize such a clumsy way of showing love.
'If he had just told her he loved her, she wouldn't have been so obsessed with Raymond.'
While lost in these somewhat bittersweet thoughts, I arrived at the dining room and felt a bustling atmosphere.
"What is all this commotion?"
"The Master has just returned to the estate."
"Ah. He's back earlier than expected. I should go greet him."
I firmly readjusted the indoor shawl I had been about to take off.
As I approached the main entrance where the servants and maids were lined up, the doors opened with ghostly timing.
My father, who had been about to push up his slightly slipping glasses, stopped in his tracks the moment he spotted me.
"Yevgenia, what brings you here? Is there something else you want?"
"What? No! Is that the only time I come to greet you? I just happened to come down and heard you had arrived, so I thought it was a good time to come out."
"Hmm, is that so?"
Seeing my father dressed neatly in a formal uniform jacket that looked uncomfortable just by looking at it felt quite unfamiliar.
Thus, I walked silently without speaking first until we reached the dining room.
After a long, awkward silence, the salad arrived, and I hurriedly picked up my fork, thinking, 'Finally, something to do!' But then—
"So, what exactly are you trying to ask for? Do you want me to move the engagement ceremony even closer?"
"Ack, cough, cough! Wh-what?!"
"However, marriage is out of the question. That will happen after you have perfectly completed your successor training..."
"No, no, Father! Wait a moment!"
The bitter taste lingering in my mouth no longer felt like the taste of vegetables.
This was... the taste of a flag that must be avoided at all costs!
"Anna, could you clear the dining room for a moment? Tell the chef as well..."
"...Yes, My Lady."
Perhaps because she knew that one letter of the name engraved on me had disappeared, Anna quietly dismissed the staff without a word of protest.
Judging by her utterly stiff expression, she seemed to have a rough idea of what I was about to say.
'I really have to take the fact that I erased the name on purpose to my grave, hmm.'
Before long, the dining room was empty. Leaving only my father and me.
It had taken barely five minutes for the situation to change like this. Perhaps that was why my father still held his knife and fork in his hands. However, he soon silently set the cutlery down, leaned back slightly in his chair, and asked.
"...What on earth is going on? Did you kill someone?"
"Father, what do you take me for? Killing someone... how could you say something so scary..."
I cast my gaze downward and acted hurt, but I couldn't fool my father's eyes. As he simply stared at me with his arms crossed, I shook my head and raised both hands.
"It is that serious, but I haven't harmed anyone else. I swear."
"..."
"Oh, really! I'll swear on Mother's name. Will you believe me then?"
Only after I finally mentioned my mother did my father's gaze soften slightly.
Sigh—I let out a long breath to calm my fluttering heart.
To deceive a father as perceptive as mine, I had to be mentally prepared.
If I showed even the slightest hint of suspicion, I would be in deep trouble.
I lowered my eyes, clasped my hands together as if hesitating, and fidgeted as I began to speak.
"This morning, when I woke up..."
"When you woke up?"
"Well, Raymond's name, which was clearly drawn on my collarbone..."
"The name?"
'Come on, tears! Now is the time to flow!'
I tried my hardest to squeeze out tears, but not even enough to dampen a single eyelash emerged.
Since it had come to this, there was no other choice.
I had to be an amazing fake-crier.
"Sob! I can't bring myself to say it!"
I buried my face in my hands and hunched my shoulders as much as possible to look as pitiful as anyone could.
Then, I heard the sound of my startled father pushing back his chair and standing up.
'It's understandable that he's surprised. Until now, Yevgenia thought that screaming and being stubborn always got her what she wanted.'
'Yevgenia' would rather have a knife to her throat than show a weak side like I was doing now.
In other words, even if someone threatened her with a blade to her neck, she wasn't the type of person to cry and cling to someone's pant leg.
Perhaps that was why my current appearance came as quite a shock to my father.
Approaching me, my father gently stroked my shoulder and upper arm with his large hand and asked.
"Oh, Zhenya. What on earth happened?"
"Th-that is..."
"Don't worry and just tell me. Is there anything this father cannot do for you?"
'Uh, oh. I didn't expect him to react this much!'
My conscience pricked at the reality that I had to spin a lie to a father who cared for me this much, and I couldn't bring myself to speak.
While I was just gauging his reaction, my father brought up the magic word.
"Surely that fellow Raymond didn't leave a wound on your body?"
'No, why does he think everything that happens to me is related to Raymond?!'
At this rate, my father might misunderstand again and reach a strange conclusion.
Just like how he wanted to hurry the engagement instead of breaking it off right now!
I hurriedly gripped my father's hand on my shoulder and looked up at him.
"Father! It has nothing to do with Raymond! I mean, it has a little bit to do with him, but that's..."
"What do you mean 'a little bit'?"
"It would be better if you saw it for yourself. You won't believe me even if I tell you."
I brushed aside my messy hair and gathered it to one side.
Then, I untied the ribbon of my dress and pulled the fabric down to reveal my collarbone.
"Yevgenia, why the sudden..."
"Look closely, Father."
There was no need for further explanation.
Once he saw that the first letter of Raymond's name, 'R', had vanished without a trace, everything would be understood.
Beneath the small scab I had made with a quill, the skin was perfectly clean.
But as expected, the small scar seemed to capture my father's attention first.
"How did you get hurt here? As I thought, that bastard Raymond..."
"No! I told you it's not! The wound was just a mistake I made. Forget about that trivial thing and look below it, Father."
When I pointed to the vanished part of the name and pushed my shoulder forward, my father finally seemed to understand the situation.
"This is..."
"How could such a thing happen, Father? Perhaps because I no longer love Raymond, did God personally take back our destiny?"
Although the story hidden behind the 'tradition' of names wasn't particularly beautiful, the prevailing theory was that the manifestation of a name was the touch of divine power.
Therefore, to 'Yevgenia,' who had learned only common knowledge, she would have no choice but to believe that its disappearance was also the touch of divine power.
...That was my plan to convince my father.
So, while I was doing my best to act ignorant and bewildered, squeezing out dry tears, my father suddenly spoke.
"Yevgenia, names do not appear and disappear in that manner."
"But Father, my name really has disappeared."
"That is..."
My father seemed lost in thought for a moment while stroking my hair, then he grabbed both my shoulders and turned me toward him.
Facing my father unexpectedly, my mouth shut instinctively.
The same red hair as mine, but entirely different blue eyes.
That gaze, which felt as if it were piercing right through me...
"Yevgenia."
"Ye-yes?"
"How much do you think you know about the Atrux Imperial Family?"
.jpeg)