Chapter 49
“Come here.”
On a cozy night bathed in moonlight.
A cool breeze slipped in through the slightly open window.
“If you leave the window open in this weather, you’ll catch a cold.”
A small girl walked over and closed the window.
“Father, you should take better care of your health.”
“Heh… Elma, didn’t I tell you not to be so formal?”
When the man in the bed smiled warmly, Elma lowered her head, looking slightly embarrassed.
After a moment, she softly muttered.
“Fa… Father…”
“Yes, my daughter.”
The man’s small, thin hand rested gently on her Ash-Gray crown.
“Is it really okay for me to call you that…?”
“Don’t worry. I will always think of you as my precious daughter.”
Elma’s big, earnest eyes gazed at the man.
‘Ah….’
A face growing thinner by the day.
Black hair, grown slightly long, trailing down the back of his neck.
Even though he was confined to his sickly body.
“So, what book should I read to you tonight?”
He was the most radiant person.
A man with a soul nobler than anyone else’s.
This man was Leo Oldeire.
***
A child of a concubine.
That label always followed Elma like a tail.
Her origin, quite literally, was from a concubine’s lineage.
Born of a lowly male slave, no less.
‘How dare she conceive before the legitimate wife!’
Under normal circumstances, she was destined never to be born, to have her very existence erased.
However, Carbon Oldeire, the head of the Oldeire family, was known to have difficulty conceiving.
To ensure the continuation of the bloodline in case the head of the family passed without heirs, Elma was allowed to be born into this world.
“Waaaah! Waaah!”
“It’s a girl! It’s a girl, my lord!”
“…It wasn’t a total waste, after all.”
From birth, Elma was immediately registered as a direct descendant.
As for her real father, the slave—he was executed upon her birth.
His crime was daring to impregnate the family head before the legitimate wife.
“Pick up the sword, Elma.”
From her first steps, Elma was made to grip a sword.
“Ugh… Ah….”
“Did you think you could carry the Oldeire name with such meagre skill?”
Carbon trained her more strictly than anyone.
Even as her soft, chubby flesh tore and blood flowed, there was no leniency.
“Stand up.”
“Can… can’t I rest for a bit…? It hurts so much….”
“How dare you show weakness in front of me.”
Smack!
“Ow!”
“Stop whining and get up. Don’t shed tears so easily, just because you’re a girl.”
Every day was grueling and sorrowful.
But it wasn’t all hardship.
“It must have been tough today. Come lie down. I’ll read you a story tonight.”
Every night.
Elma would drag her weary body to the master bedroom.
“Husband….”
“It’s alright. Call me Father.”
On the bed in that room, he was always there.
“Did you receive proper treatment? I’m sorry… that my husband is so harsh on you….”
“N-no! Don’t say that!”
Leo Oldeire.
He was the legitimate spouse of Carbon Oldeire and the mistress of the Oldeire household.
He would always welcome Elma with a gentle smile.
“Husband… Aren’t you resentful of me?”
“Hmm? Why?”
“Because… I don’t carry your blood. And because of me, your position must have become difficult.”
“Hahaha! Who did our daughter get her mature thinking from?”
Whenever she worried with a tearful face,
Leo would stroke her cheeks with his warm hand.
“Elma. You are a gift from the gods.”
“…What?”
“As you know, my health is poor. And your mother is unable to bear children. We had given up on having an heir. But then, you came into our lives.”
“…!”
“Thank you, Elma. For being born. For existing. For allowing me to experience the joy of being a father.”
At that moment,
Elma felt something melt within her heart.
“Sniff… sob…!”
It was painful.
It was hard.
She didn’t understand why she had to be born into such hardship.
But he taught her.
Her purpose, her responsibility, her worth.
Leo taught her.
“Sniff… Waaah…!”
“It’s alright. It’s alright. Cry as much as you want.”
That night,
Elma cried herself to sleep in his warm embrace.
***
Leo was an admirable and lovable man.
He always respected everyone, was polite, and had a gentle disposition.
As the mistress of a noble house, he might have developed an air of superiority, but he always remained humble.
“He’s truly different from those other aristocrats corrupted by their sense of entitlement.”
The servants of the Oldeire household all respected him.
Of course, Elma revered Leo as well.
“Father! Look! I folded coloured paper into a butterfly!”
“Hehe, how cute. Hmm, might you give it to me as a gift? I think it would be beautiful as a decoration in my room.”
“Of course!”
He was a star.
A quietly shining star that naturally made people look up.
Elma admired such a Leo. She loved him and followed him.
However.
“Cough! Ugh…!”
“Fa… Father!!”
Sadly, the heavens did not grant him much time.
“Blood, blood! There’s blood mixed in with your cough!”
“It’s… alright… I’m just a bit tired… Could you bring me a towel…?”
Leo wiped the dark red blood he had coughed up with a white towel.
“I’m sorry… that I can’t even go on a picnic with you….”
“Please… don’t say things like that.”
At times like these, Leo would gaze out the window with hollow eyes.
Those eyes once held passionate ambition.
The determination to overcome his body and someday walk outside on his own.
But by then, his body was already irreparably damaged.
“Haah… haah….”
Simply living had become too much to ask.
***
“Congratulations!”
News of great joy reached the Oldeire family.
Carbon’s belly had started to swell.
At that time, she was staying in the Central Continent due to a sudden call and had sent word by letter.
The timing suggested it was a child from their last union.
Since Elma’s birth, Carbon had cut ties with all men of her own accord.
Therefore, the child she now carried was undoubtedly Leo’s.
“…I see.”
Upon hearing the news, Leo only managed a faint smile.
It wasn’t that he felt no happiness.
However.
“Cough! Huff! Haah….”
By that time, Leo was already half-dead.
His body, now reduced to skin and bones, looked ghastly, with his cheeks sunken like a skull.
He coughed up blood and gasped several times a day.
“Father….”
“El… ma….”
The hand holding Elma’s was heartbreakingly cold.
The warmth of the past was nowhere to be felt, only the stark chill of death.
“Heh… My dear daughter….”
Yet, his spirit remained unchanged.
It had neither withered under death nor frozen in despair.
His soul was greater than death itself.
“Father, I’ll protect your child. As her older sister, I’ll do my best to ensure she doesn’t endure the same pain I did.”
Her tightly clenched fists trembled.
A fierce something surged within her chest.
And then, atop her head.
Pat!
Leo stroked her hair.
Just as he always had.
With pure love for his daughter, even one not of his blood.
“You don’t… have to push yourself….”
“…….”
“That child can live as herself… and Elma, you should live as Elma… Don’t give everything of yourself to her….”
“…Sniff.”
“Still… if I have one small wish….”
Leo smiled.
“Love that child… as I have loved you… Show that child warmth… Teach the poor child who has no one to hold her what warmth feels like….”
“Yes… I will! Everything you’ve given me! I’ll give to her!”
“Thank you… Heh… Our daughter is… so reliable….”
His final breath was exhaled.
The man who was respected by all met his end.
Ironically, with an apology.
“Father…! Father! Hwaah…!”
“My lady, please, that’s enough….”
“No… no… Don’t leave… please… sniff! Waaah!”
In front of his lifeless body,
Elma wailed in despair.
The funeral was simple.
Carbon did not attend.
Upon her return to the family, she merely looked at the small grave they had made.
“So pathetic.”
And spat out those words.
There were no tears or changes in her expression.
“…….”
Elma was not even given enough time to properly grieve for Leo.
“Well, well, your sword is becoming quite sharp.”
“…….”
“Did some moment of enlightenment come to you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Yet, from that point on,
Elma’s sword grew even sharper.
So sharp that it was hard to believe it was wielded by a mere child of three or four.
“The sword has found its direction.”
Carbon nodded in satisfaction.
The sword’s direction.
What the sword sought to cut down.
“Thank you for the compliment.”
Elma now understood exactly whom she needed to aim her sword at.
—
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