Chapter 32
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: I Don't Want to Be Your Daughter
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"I'm telling you, I'm not Your Majesty's daughter. Your Majesty's daughter is Ellensia."
"You are my daughter, and so is Ellensia."
"No. Only Ellensia is Your Majesty's daughter. She's the child borne by Her Majesty the Empress..."
"Whether she bore you or not makes no difference. I've always regarded you as my daughter, and I will continue to do so."
"But if she bore her, that makes her your child—why doesn't that matter? Ellensia..."
"Even without a drop of blood between us..."
It was only after this back-and-forth repeated several times, with mere variations in wording, that Philomel finally realized he was in earnest.
Come to think of it, Emperor Justis had no reason to lie to her. There was nothing for him to gain from it.
And yet she couldn't bring herself to believe it, pressing him again and again.
Now her mouth ached, but she had no choice except to accept it. Young Duke Nassar's words had been right—the Emperor was searching for her out of genuine worry.
The Emperor spoke.
"So I will officially register you as my daughter. You have been, are now, and will forever be my daughter and a princess of the Belleroph Empire."
"...I am grateful that you regard me as your daughter, but I do not wish to be registered. Even if I am innocent, I am still the daughter of a criminal. I have no qualification to live as a princess. Your mercy in not punishing me is grace enough..."
"You are qualified to be a princess."
"The ministers will object."
"I guarantee you, no one will object."
Justis glared fiercely, as if promising to show no mercy to any fool who dared.
'They're just too scared of you to say it to your face!'
Philomel swallowed her words unspoken and turned her head away.
"What do other people's opinions matter when it comes to our family? The only thing that counts is you and me."
Justis continued to persuade her.
"...What about Ellensia? Would she even want to be sisters with me?"
Philomel asked quietly in return.
Becoming part of his family meant becoming family with Ellensia too.
"...She said that if you came back, she wanted to get along well with you."
Only then did Justis answer calmly.
"Getting along well and becoming family are two different things."
"I won't force sisterly affection on either of you. I never had that with my own siblings. And I promise I won't show favoritism between you and Ellensia."
To treat Ellensia and her equally. It was so absurd it nearly made her laugh.
Why was he going to such ridiculous lengths to keep hold of her?
Did she truly hold that much value?
"Saying you'll treat a fake daughter the same... Ellensia would be hurt if she heard that."
"Philomel, why do you keep preemptively worrying about others' reactions? As I said before, you're overly conscious of other people's eyes. Just speak your honest mind."
When Philomel fell silent, his expression darkened.
"...Do you not want to be registered?"
Did she not want it?
It was a situation she'd never once imagined, leaving her flustered.
All her efforts to look good had been to keep everyone at ease until she could escape—and to earn a lighter punishment if caught.
She'd never dreamed her efforts might actually make her his daughter.
His daughter was Ellensia, a position Philomel could never aspire to.
She asked herself.
Did she want to become Emperor Justis's adopted daughter?
In truth, she was skeptical of his claim to see her as a daughter. Perhaps he'd mistaken fondness for a 'well-behaved, likable person' as parental love.
The previous Emperor had pitted his children against each other to preserve his power, turning the palace into a silent battlefield.
In Princess Ellensia, it was said Justis had never known deep affection until he met his wife Isabella.
He'd only recently reunited with Ellensia too, so he might not yet distinguish familial bonds from superficial goodwill.
Still, judging purely by results, it saved her life and kept her out of prison for now. It might not be so bad.
'Right. I'll accept it.'
She'd accept for now, then leave once his attention shifted fully to his real daughter.
That was the rational choice. Her own feelings didn't matter.
She drew breath to voice her acceptance—
"...I don't want it."
Different words tumbled from her lips.
Philomel herself was the most startled.
"I don't want to become Your Majesty's daughter."
Another voice cried out from deep within her heart.
'Are you insane? What if he changes his mind and decides to kill you because you're getting on his nerves? Just say you'll accept!'
But once the cork was pulled from what she'd buried deep in her chest, it all came pouring out.
Philomel couldn't stem the flow. Instead, she began naming the ruins of emotions she'd only ever piled up inside.
"...From the moment I came of age, I've never seen you as my father, and I have no memory of you ever treating me like a daughter."
As she spoke, she realized she could never live another seven years like before.
"You might have thought of me as your daughter in your heart, but life here was hell for me."
From the time she'd picked up that book at nine... no, even before then.
"You said you wished I'd live like I was dead. So I did."
Living quietly wasn't the only way to live like the dead.
Philomel had lived like the dead. She'd killed her emotions, donned masks, and left only a hollow shell.
"Please don't hold me back anymore, Your Majesty."
Not Father, but Your Majesty.
The word Your Majesty, emphasized deliberately by Philomel, echoed emptily.
Justis's pale blue eyes flickered like a campfire in a fierce wind.
She'd blown it. Seven years of desperate effort to win his favor had vanished in an instant. Yet the relief outweighed any worry or regret.
Whatever had shocked him so, the Emperor's face twisted in disbelief. His lofty pride had never anticipated rejection.
Kiiiik. The chair scraped back.
Justis shot to his feet, turning his back to Philomel as he faced the wall.
'Is he saying he doesn't even want to look at my face?'
Suddenly, he spoke.
"...That time, those words."
He seemed to recall exactly when she'd said it.
It had been a turning point in her life, yet to him, mere passing words.
"You've kept it in your heart all this while."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
For a moment, Philomel wondered if her hearing was faulty.
Sorry? Emperor Justis was apologizing?
"Back then, I... No. Any excuse I make now would just sound like one."
One faced the wall, the other his back—a bizarre conversation continued.
"I'll apologize properly another time. And reconsider the registration."
"But I just refused..."
"One year."
A specific term was suddenly proposed.
"Even if you leave later, couldn't you stay here just one year first? If you do, I won't stop you from going anywhere after that. I'll even support whatever you want to do or wherever you want to go."
She fell silent, not grasping his intent, and he seemed to misinterpret it.
"If a year is too much, how about ten months?"
"...?"
"...Eight months?"
"..."
"Fine. Six months."
"...Pardon?"
"No. I can't yield more than that."
"That's not the issue..."
"Right. Three months."
It was the strangest of negotiations.
"Anyway, rest and think it over slowly."
"Your Majesty. I..."
"Rest is your top priority. I'll step out, so make yourself at home."
"Please, let me speak..."
"It's well past mealtime. I'll have them bring food."
Unclear if he wanted her answer or not, Justis left the room in swift strides before she could utter another word.
It was uncharacteristically hurried for the man who always moved with the deliberate pace of a predator eyeing prey.
"What does he mean, he'll step out of his own room...?"
Philomel, left inexplicably occupying the Emperor's chambers, muttered in bewilderment.
Well. He didn't seem angry, so he wouldn't drag her off right now. More pressing was his absurd proposal. Official registration was one thing, but suddenly asking her to stay in the palace?
'Is he serious?'
No. It was probably just empty words born of guilt.
Philomel shook the image of the Emperor's retreating back from her mind.