TVDLHI 18

Chapter 18

Five-year-old Repornia had never asked for anything—not even before coming to this household.

Even when she lived alone in that empty house and rode alone with the Duke of Krytan in his carriage all the way to the manor, she never once asked him for help. She only said that selling her wouldn’t bring in any money, so he should just use her as a maid.

It was the same even after she was adopted.

But now, Repornia was voicing something she wanted—for the first time ever. The Duke of Krytan hesitated for a moment, then turned to Phelence.

“Phelence. Could you—”

“No.”

Before the Duke could finish, Phelence refused flatly and stood up before even finishing his meal.

“You really shouldn’t dump something like that on me, Father.”

She’s not even the child I adopted. You should take responsibility, Father.
He seemed to be criticizing the Duke with his eyes.

Repornia glanced at the Duke.

The Duke only let out a small sigh.

Phelence turned away coldly and left the dining hall. The Duke watched his son’s back for a moment before looking back at Repornia.

“Ponya. I think it’s best to leave Phelence be.”

“It’s fine.”

Repornia continued eating, answering with cheerful toughness as if nothing was wrong.

“I was rejected yesterday too, so I expected this. This much is nothing.”

“Ponya…”

“I know what you’re worried about, Your Grace. You’re afraid Senior will be annoyed, right? I won’t bother him too much.”

“What are you talking about? Why would Phelence be annoyed?”

“Huh?”

Wasn’t that why the Duke was trying to dissuade her?

“That boy needs his life to get a little bothersome. At the academy, all he does is eat, sleep, and play.”

Then why tell her to leave him alone? Repornia tilted her head, genuinely confused.

“Ponya. I’m worried you’ll get hurt from being rejected.”

“…Me?”

Repornia pointed at herself, puzzled. Someone was worried that she would be hurt? She had never heard such a thing in her entire life.

“It can’t feel good getting rejected again and again.”

Repornia’s lips parted silently. She had never even considered such a thing. That morning she told herself rejection wasn’t a big deal, steeling her heart—

—but here, someone was worried about it.

‘No wonder my heart drops every time someone refuses me. I’ve gotten used to this treatment…’

Even though it was something she would have to let go of someday.

“But Ponya, I want you to know Phelence isn’t rejecting you because he dislikes you. If he truly hated you, that boy—who clings to sleep—wouldn’t have woken up early to sit in the dining hall. For your information, Ponya, when you’re not here, he doesn’t even sit across from me.”

Was the Duke trying to comfort her or stating a fact? It was hard to tell.

“Okay.”

There was no need to ask. Whether he meant it as comfort or truth, it wasn’t particularly important to Repornia.

“Then… I’ll talk to Senior a little more.”

“I’m worried Phelence might say something harsh and hurt your feelings.”

“It’s fine. He doesn’t swear at me or hit me.”

Anything short of that was considered kind.

Repornia continued eating calmly. The Duke, who had been about to protest, pressed his lips together instead, stunned by how casual she was.

He looked like he wanted to correct something, but Repornia didn’t ask.

Next to her, the Duke kept muttering under his breath, “Slowly. One step at a time. Slowly…”

After taking a deep breath, he watched Repornia chewing diligently, then spoke.

“Ponya. From now on, use this to get around.”

At his signal, the butler brought something in.

It sparkled. Even from a distance, it was huge, glittering, and dazzling in every color.

“What is that?”

“I told you before. Since the estate is large, you shouldn’t walk everywhere—so I had them make you a wooden hobbyhorse to ride.”

Even at a glance, it was clearly made of high-grade wood.

The wood’s color was so vibrant that it had to be the type used for furniture in high-ranking noble households.

And—good grief—even from afar, gemstones were embedded in the hobbyhorse’s eyes. Not only the eyes: gemstones were scattered all over its body. It could’ve been called a jewel horse.

It even wore a luxurious-looking necklace.

“I had a magic stone embedded in it so it will move in the direction you want.”

“Gasp—A magic stone?”

Did he know how expensive a single magic stone was? And he put one in a hobbyhorse?

A hobbyhorse only a five-year-old Repornia could ride?!

Repornia stared, horrified, at the ridiculously valuable hobbyhorse that was worth many times more than her own life.

“It can only move within the Krytan estate, and it can’t be taken outside, so it won’t be stolen.”

If she ever took it outside, a mob would strip it clean of all gemstones and magic stone in seconds.

Repornia swallowed hard.

“Ponya. This is a gift for you.”

Gift.
The moment that word was spoken, Repornia stopped calculating the price of the jewels and snapped her head upward.

Only then did the Duke’s face enter her vision—he looked anxious, nervous, and worried that she might not like the present.

Even after embedding all those expensive jewels for her.

“Ah…”

Repornia opened her mouth. She knew what one was supposed to say when receiving a gift.

But this was her first time. In her entire life.
Never once had she received a present.

Her lips trembled.

“Th… tha…”

Throughout her life, she had said “I’m sorry” more often than “thank you.” More often “please spare me” than “I love you.”

She said “I’m fine” more than “I’m hurting,” and “I’ll die anyway” more than “help me.”

She lived a life where she said “no” far more often than “yes.”

“…It’s the first time.”

Unable to finish her “thank you,” Repornia whispered honestly instead.

She wasn’t supposed to let emotions influence her around people tied to her mission.
If she did, she couldn’t carry out the mission.

Yet—

“I’ve never… ever received anything before. Not since I was born.”

For this, at least, she wanted to be honest.

“Since it’s the first time…”

Repornia repeated that word over and over, substituting it for “thank you.”

“…Is that so?”

The Duke finally smiled, watching her repeat that word awkwardly. Then he reached out and gently lifted young Repornia into his arms.

“It makes me happy that I’m the first to give you something.”

He understood that “first” was her way of saying “thank you.”

He’s happy… because he gave something to me?

What an ironic statement.

Repornia had grown up in a world where no one gave anything. A world where there was nothing to give. A world where you were too busy surviving, eating, and claiming what was yours. A world where helping someone else meant dying yourself.

So she had never known the joy of giving. She couldn’t understand such a heart.

“Now, try riding it.”

The Duke gently set her atop the hobbyhorse.

Riding a hobbyhorse at my age…

It even had handles.

“When you ride it, hold the handles tight. It might be dangerous otherwise.”

He seemed to have forgotten that Repornia was the type who would warn someone to drink cold water slowly so they wouldn’t get stomach aches.

“Mm.”

Even if she answered obediently, she certainly wasn’t planning to hold the handles. She still had adult pride, after all!

“I had it designed so it only activates when you hold both handles. Hold them, stomp your foot once in the direction you want to go, and it’ll start moving. After that, just turn the handles the way you want. If you release one hand, it stops.”

Thorough. He even designed it so she must hold both handles or it won’t work at all.

If he ever found out she once jumped off a third-floor building while being chased, he’d probably faint.

…Of course, the day the Duke discovers who she really is will be the day they meet at the execution grounds, so fainting wouldn’t matter.

If I’d really been born in a place like this…

Repornia briefly imagined a version of herself who was loved and raised here—but quickly shook her head.

It was a reality that could never be. A past that could never change. Thinking about it only made her feel more miserable.

“I’m going to go catch Senior!”

Repornia laughed happily as she grabbed the hobbyhorse handles. The maids smiled warmly and opened the dining hall doors.

First, I stomp my foot.

She stomped lightly.

The hobbyhorse began to sway forward and back slowly.

“Oh, it really moves.”