Chapter 69
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: A Daughter's Regret
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I dreamt of my mom and dad for the first time in a long while.
My parents from my past life were there, and so were my parents from this one. Both sets of parents were now figures that only existed in my dreams.
The memory of the day the Sinclairs—my current mother and father—passed away was vivid. It was the day I’d thrown the worst tantrum of my life.
“Why don’t you just buy a title? I want to be a noble! A real noble!”
“Cherry, even if we buy a title, we can’t become true nobles.”
My father said, trying to reason with me. I must have been about sixteen at the time. An age when I was deeply immature.
“Why aren’t you and Mom nobles? I wish I’d been born to noble parents!”
That was the day I’d foolishly said things that drove a nail through my parents’ hearts. It happened to be the day I had been thoroughly scorned by the young ladies at a socialite party, who sneered that a commoner had dared to show up.
After throwing a fit for a long while, I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted. My mother came to my room, sat by my bedside, and said,
“My dear daughter, I’m so sorry. But my desire to raise you to be the very best is second to none, not even to the nobles. Please, just know that. To me, you are the most precious and beautiful daughter in the world.”
Truthfully, even though my mother’s words brought tears to my eyes, they didn’t truly resonate with me. To my younger self, the humiliation I’d suffered at the hands of the noble girls my age felt far too great.
That day, my mother and father were going to meet a new friend. They didn’t tell me who this friend was. I wasn’t particularly curious, either. Though I had no reason to be angry with them, I was, and I didn’t even look at their faces as they left.
That was the very day. The day my parents died in a car accident.
My last memory of my parents was of my own immature, barbed words—that I wished I’d been born to noble parents instead of them.
After their funeral, when their headstones were placed in the cemetery, reality still hadn’t set in. I remember clinging to the cold stone and sobbing uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry. Don’t leave me behind. Don’t go. Don’t abandon me. It was my fault. I don’t want to be a noble anymore. So please, come back. I’m still young. I need my mom and dad.”
But no miracle brought my parents back.
What my father left me was a title. He had actually purchased a noble title in a single day. As if he had been preparing for it all along.
The one who delivered the news, of course, was our lawyer, Harrison. But he also added that for the Sinclair family, so renowned, a noble title would be meaningless.
“What shall we do about the title, my lady?”
I remember Harrison asking me.
Ironically, I told him I no longer needed such a thing as a title.
One could hold sway over the nobles without being one of them. A Sinclair could do just that. That must have been what my father meant when he said, ‘A Sinclair has no need for a title.’
And so, I became the star of the social scene—a woman all the noble ladies envied, and yet secretly admired.