Reincarnated As A Villainess' Stepmother, And I Promise I Will Make My Daughter Happy. Whether They Be A Prince, A Knight, Or A Chancellor? I Won't Hand Over My Daughter To Any Of Them

Chapter 4: Marquis was distraught

When I was sleeping together with Athy in her room as usual, I heard a slight buzzing sound in my ears.

I quietly slipped out of bed so as not to wake Athy, closed the door to the room to avoid making any noise and staggered to the place of noise.

It was where the owner of the house— the Marquis Karamanlis, was.

He was about to head for his study, accompanied by a butler carrying his coat.

“Welcome back, Lord.”

I called out from the top of the stairs, closing the front of my gown with both hands.

The Marquis stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked up at me slowly, muttered a single word, “Ah,” and immediately looked away.

As he tried to leave the place quickly,

“I’d like to talk to you for a moment. Can you give me a moment of your time?”

I rushed in front of him and asked a question.

“I’m taking a break today.”

Without looking at me, Marquis spat bluntly.

But I was not going to miss it here!

“I really need to talk to you today. It’s special, just between couples… you know.”

I stopped in a huff, my right hand over my mouth, my left hand on my hip.

I didn’t miss the look on the butler’s and other servants’ faces that said, ‘Oh, that’. And then, they took some distance from the Marquis.

As expected of the Marquis de Karamanlis’ household. They were very perceptive.

“Now, I’ll be waiting for you…”

I dropped my voice a little and left the place with a wagging sound of my footsteps.

Yosh. If you did it in such a deliberate way, people around you would think you were inviting them for a night. If they didn’t have bad intentions, they wouldn’t even come near your room.

After confirming that the servants were out of sight, I stopped my purposeful walking and made my way to our bedroom with my usual stride.

***

“What are you trying to do?”

Marquis’ voice was low but stern as he entered the room.

He looked down at me bitterly for a moment as I sat on the bed crossing my legs, then quickly looked away.

Do you hate to see me that much?

Well, it couldn’t be helped. It was a physiological reaction of the mind not to accept this body.

That’s fine.

I didn’t care.

That’s not what I wanted to talk about anyway.

“Why do you avoid Athy?”

I asked him, as astonished as the Marquis.

“If you’re busy, just say a word.

If you can’t say something, just call her.

If you can’t call her, just a pat on the head is fine.

I want you to indicate to her that you are aware of her, that you’re aware of your own daughter.

But you act as if Athy… doesn’t exist here, why?

This is no way to nurture a sound mind.

It is absolutely essential for the development of a healthy mind to have one’s existence acknowledged by one’s family.

And that’s how children develop social skills.”

“I’m doing what… needs to be done.”

“Are you properly doing it?”

I was unintentionally annoyed by his words, but I was patient here. It’s a trivial matter compared to what I wanted to talk about.

“It’s not enough.”

I replied so sharply, but he remained silent.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt and tossed the jacket on the desk by the room.

He then tried to remove the sleeve cuffs and was frustrated when they didn’t work.

“I have tutors and babysitters. That should be enough.”

“Not enough.”

“What else?”

“I’m talking about love.”

The moment I said those words, he glared at me with a clear, angry, afloat face.

But he was an adult here.

He gulped and exhaled thinly. And then said,

“… I love Athy.”

He mumbled to himself.

I was aware of it.

“Yes, I know.”

He loved Athy.

He didn’t treat Athy badly or mistreat her in any way.

“But that has not been communicated to Athy. A young child does not understand unless you show her love in a way that is easy to understand.”

A hug, a pat on the head, calling her lovingly, eye contact— these were all ways for the child to understand that his or her existence was acknowledged and loved.

No matter how much we prepared the environment around them, they would not realize it until much later — when they were adults. That was too late.

He said nothing.

He looked bitter and still looked slightly to the side of me. I guessed he didn’t want to look directly at me.

But I was just grateful that he turned his face to me. It meant he was willing to listen.

“… Perhaps it is still too painful for you to do so. But in the meantime, Athy is growing up. Children do not wait to grow up. Do not make her wait, until it’s too late.”

I stood up and looked him straight in the eye.

That should’ve hit him.

“… What do you know..”

Marquis, grizzled and gnashing his teeth, pushed me off his shoulder.

My body bounced once on the bed as I fell backwards. Without a pause, the Marquis covered me.

The Marquis’s fist merrily plunged into the bed right next to my face.

I thought he wanted to hit me.

“I appreciated that you put up with that.”

I said that because I was prepared to be punched in the face.

But I was not a woman to be silenced by such things.

“Do not run away. You may run away from any other thing. But not this one. You can’t run away from Athy, your own daughter.”

Marquis raised his arm again.

I gritted my teeth— I was going to get hit — but no fist came at me.

He then clasped his hands tightly, making them tremble.

“I can’t…..”

He cried as if squeezed out.

His voice sounded really, really strained.

I put my hand on his cheek.

I thought it was so pathetic that he shook himself not in anger but in fear.

“I found this photo…”

I take out a sheet of paper from the pocket of my gown.

It was the paper that had slipped off a book in the library the other day.

The book was tucked away in the back of the library, in a children’s book that no one else in the family would pick up, and that Athy was not yet ready for.

The book had been read many times, so it must have been a book of Marquis’s memories.

I took one look at the paper— the photo— and then I offered it to him.

Marquis, who had just removed his body from me, took the photo with his trembling hands and looked down at it.

Then tears rolled down his cheeks.

“The woman in the picture is my former wife— Athy’s mother. She looks just like… Athy.”

He kneeled on the floor in a crumpled heap and broke down crying, holding a photograph— of a beautiful woman who looked exactly like Athy, and a baby in her arms— with both hands.

He really loved his wife. That’s why it was so hard for him to lose her, and I was sure it was very painful for him to see Athy becoming more and more like her every day.

I gently stroked his head as he crouched on the floor.

I, too, had lost a brother.

Twin brother.

The other half of me.

When my brother died, I felt a pain in my heart as if my body had been torn in half.

For a while, I felt a sense of loss, as if half my body was gone.

So when I saw my face, which looked more and more like my brother’s day by day, it sometimes reminded me of my brother and was painful.

But…

“But that’s no reason to leave Athy alone.”

I grabbed marquis’s hair with a gulp, which I had been stroking.

Then I forced him to look up.

I put my face close to the face of the old man, who was all messed up with tears and a runny nose.

“It doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead. But I don’t say, ‘Since she’s dead, you’ve to forget her.’ You don’t have to forget. It’s impossible. So, you need to cry, scream, and whine, mourn her death from the bottom of your heart, accept it, and finally move on. You’re survived by Athy.”

Marquis’ face widened.

I grabbed him by the chin by his sticky beard.

“Do you think the woman who was your wife would want you to goof off and cry and beg for your death forever and ever?”

Marquis was stunned and motionless.

I had no choice but to argue further.

“Didn’t Athy’s mother love her?”

The moment I uttered this, his jaw swung slightly from side to side.

“Right? She loved Athy. She wanted you to be happy, I know she did. So what do you think? Do you think Athy is happy now?”

After a short pause, his jaw swung from side to side again.

“Then there is only one thing for you to do. You’re going to go to Athy. And do what your beloved wife couldn’t do even if she wanted to do it. You’ve to hold her, pat her gently, talk to her, look into her eyes — just call her by her name.”

I took my hand away from him.

I told him what had to be said.

Oh, my hands…

I wiped my hands until the hem of my gown chafed my skin and hurt.

Marquis looked up at me.

“Do you understand?”

When I asked for confirmation, he shook his head once.

“Yoshi. Good boy.”

Satisfied, I left.

Well! Now it’s going to be alright! If it was not okay, I would make him cry again.

Now I could smell Athy’s hair without a care in the world!

With a refreshed mind, I skipped off to Athy’s bedroom.