Chapter 19
I was so exhausted that my thoughts bypassed my brain and flew straight out of my mouth.
It’s not that I hated Ali, but she was definitely the type I couldn’t handle.
Shaking off her lingering presence, I turned to knock on Rashid’s door.
Soon I heard quick footsteps from inside, and the door opened. Rashid, seeing it was me, visibly looked disappointed.
A vague sigh escaped his lips.
“Ah…”
Even if it’s me, being greeted with such blatant disappointment stings a little. Annoyed by his dismissive expression, I snapped at him.
“What’s with the sigh the moment you see someone’s face?”
Rashid seemed to realize his mistake and quickly fixed his expression. But since his lips were still tightly sealed, he clearly had no intention of explaining that sigh.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“What?”
“You opened the door so fast when I knocked.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, cracks appeared in Rashid’s calm expression. His face turned sullen, like someone whose secret had just been exposed.
Disappointment implied he had expectations. I had only meant to tease him lightly, but he fell for it so easily.
“Shall we talk inside? Why are we standing at the door like this?”
“W-What do you mean, come inside?”
Ignoring his protest, I pushed him into the room.
Shoved defenselessly, Rashid crossed his arms and gave me a look like, What kind of girl is this?
“What kind of girl are you…!”
“What about girls?”
“Just barging into a guy’s room like this!”
he yelled sharply. But despite his harsh tone, his ears turned red like strawberries.
Oh? A traditional values boy? That’s rare in the West.
Surprised by this unexpected side, I raised an eyebrow and grinned playfully.
Imagine a 7-year-old kid talking about gender roles to a 24-year-old adult. What a brave little guy.
Amused by his reaction, I lifted my right hand to my forehead and exaggeratedly looked around.
“Huh? Where’s the man? I don’t see one here.”
Rashid grew even redder at my teasing. His clenched fists trembled.
Suppressing a laugh, I covered my rising smile with a hand.
Pouting, Rashid trudged toward the bed and grumbled,
“So, why are you here?”
“Me? I walked.”
“Not that! Why did you come?!”
I walked over to the sofa in the center of the room.
“I thought we could play and get closer.”
“What about my opinion?”
“Go ask a doctor. Come here, Rashid!”
Sitting on the floor with my back against the sofa, I patted the space beside me and called him over. But Rashid looked horrified.
“Why are you sitting on the floor?”
It was only after he asked that I realized I’d sat down the way I was used to in my original world — on the floor, using the couch as a backrest.
…Koreans usually sit like this.
Feeling awkward, I laughed and climbed onto the couch properly.
“Oh, right. That’s not normal here… I’m just used to it. Anyway, come on.”
Despite looking baffled, Rashid complied.
He trudged over and flopped into the spot I had patted, then glanced at me and sighed.
“You… really live without a care, huh.”
That came out of nowhere. I turned my head sharply. That felt like a jab.
“What are you talking about? I live full of worries.”
His face clearly read: You?
I ignored it and asked, “You worried about something? I’m good at giving advice.”
He looked startled by the sudden offer, but then his eyes sparkled with interest. After a moment of hesitation, he opened up.
“I want to be acknowledged and loved, so I try really hard… but what if that person doesn’t care no matter what I do?”
I almost replied automatically out of habit but shut my mouth. I shouldn’t answer carelessly. After thinking for a moment, I asked,
“Let me check—do you want comfort or a solution?”
Rashid looked confused. I explained further.
“When people come to me with problems, I usually offer solutions. But some people just want comfort or empathy. Which are you?”
Presented with this sudden choice, Rashid thought for a moment before cautiously answering,
“If I had to choose… I guess a solution. But maybe a bit of comfort too.”
“Alright. So, who is this person?”
“Uh… my father.”
That was unexpected.
So Rashid was basically asking me how a child could be loved by a parent.
“How do you get the Duke of Delphinium to like you?”
“What?”
“You’re his adopted daughter. You’d know better, right?”
I was speechless.
He clearly thought I had to flatter the Duke to earn affection.
Implied in that: adopted children must work harder for love.
He said it innocently, without malice.
That trio of elements—naivety, prejudice, and assumption—left me at a loss.
Rashid looked serious.
“Why do you have to do anything?” I asked.
His face was blank with confusion.
“Why do you have to do anything to be loved by your parent?”
“But I’m his biological son, and I still try. Shouldn’t you try even harder as an adopted daughter?”
I was speechless again. His sincere expression showed he genuinely believed that.
“What kind of child has to work to be loved by their parent?”
Children should be loved unconditionally. Why should they earn something so basic?
That’s why I rarely read generic parenting or family-regret novels. They always left me feeling uneasy, even though I came from a loving home.
A child craves love, only to be abused and neglected—then after reincarnation, has to grovel, beg, and act cute to survive.
If that’s how miserable life must be, I’d rather not desire or strive for anything.
Rashid fell silent in thought. Just as he was about to speak again, a sudden knock interrupted us.
Knock knock.
“Miss! It’s Ali!”
Rashid turned sharply to look at me, as if asking, Did you call her? I quickly shook my head and waved my hands.
Getting no response, Ali knocked again and shouted,
“Miss? I brought you some snacks in case you were hungry! Your loyal maid is here!”
Her unfiltered actions left me speechless.
What’s with her?
Rubbing my forehead, I sighed. After glancing at Rashid’s reaction, I called out,
“Come in.”
Ali entered, pushing a trolley with cookies and tea. Her face was as bright as ever.
Mine, however, was not.
“Ali.”
“Yes, Miss!”
“I don’t remember asking you to do this.”
Regardless of her bubbly nature, it felt disrespectful to me.
Ali finally caught on to my firm tone and made a guilty face.
“Well, the thing is…”
I raised a hand to stop her stammering.
“Let’s not do this again. Whatever your intention, acting on your own like this can come off as ignoring me.”
“…Yes, Miss.”
She looked noticeably dejected—but this was something I needed to establish from the start.
Still, I felt a pang of guilt at her slumped posture. And I was a bit peckish. Trying to lighten the mood, I added,
“But thanks for the snacks. That was thoughtful.”
Ali’s face brightened immediately. She perked up and expertly set the cookies and tea on the table.
She’d clearly worked in a noble household before, judging by how she poured tea and served it smoothly.
After taking a sip, I nodded.
“You may go now.”
But instead of leaving, she fidgeted and played with her fingers, like she had something to say.
“Do you have something to say?”
Ali hesitated before finally speaking.
“Well, I heard there’s going to be a dinner banquet tonight, and I thought I should tell you…”
Did I misunderstand her?
I thought she’d just brought snacks on a whim—but maybe she had a reason.
“I see… So you didn’t just barge in—”
“I ran into the maid who was supposed to tell you and took over the job!”
…Never mind. She did just barge in.
Any guilt I felt evaporated immediately.
Unaware of my now-cold gaze, Ali continued cheerfully.
“The Duke and Young Master of Baccharis are visiting the Delphinium estate again, so they’ve arranged a banquet for everyone!”
“My father?”
I asked as I gently blew on the hot tea.
“Yes!”
At the mention of the Duke of Baccharis, Rashid visibly flinched.
He really is fixated on his father.
I set down my teacup and nodded at Ali.
“Alright. Thank you. You can go now.”
Ali bowed and rolled her trolley out of the room.
Finally, I turned back to Rashid, who still sat frozen in place.
“Now, shall we continue? You said something about why I, as an adopted daughter, don’t try to be loved?”
He jumped in alarm.
“I never said it like that!”
His eyes were full of protest.
I replied dryly, “Isn’t that basically what you meant?”
He shouted indignantly.
“No!”
“Sure, sure. Let’s say you didn’t.”
“I said I didn’t—!”
I placed both hands on his shoulders. Time to calm him down.
“Hey, relax. That’s not the point. The point is you want the Duke to like you, right?”
He still looked frustrated but nodded honestly.
“Why?”
“…?”
He tilted his head, confused.
“Why do you want his approval?”
His eyes wavered, as if the question had never occurred to him. Then he answered in a small voice.
“B-Because… if I’m useless and my father doesn’t love me, I’ll eventually be abandoned…”
“You think the Duke doesn’t love you?”
“My mother died because of me…”
I quickly reached out and covered Rashid’s mouth.
“Hey. That’s not fair.”
He stared at me, wide-eyed.
“Did you kill the Duchess yourself?”
“Th-that’s not—mmph!”
I gave him a brief moment to reply before clamping his mouth again.
“Now nod if I’m right, shake your head if not. Got it?”
Rashid nodded.
“Good. Did you kill the Duchess?”
