🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 109
We arrived somewhere in an instant.
I had never been here before, but just looking at the grand door, I could tell where we were.
“This is the Patriarch’s drawing room. And… I can sense Mother’s presence here.”
The man tilted his head in front of the door.
Why was he hesitating?
We were standing right in front of the door — shouldn’t we just knock?
Even the attendants who had tried to stop us earlier when we arrived had already been swept away by the wind.
“To play such tricks on a door…”
“Tricks?”
The man nodded and slightly lifted the corner of his lips.
“For now, I suppose it’s fine to borrow the temperament of that man who was holding you earlier, playing some foolish prank.”
“…Uncle?”
“There’s a useful word for that — Baekbu (paternal uncle). No need to call it by three syllables.”
And yet he knew perfectly well that he was the older brother — so why use another title himself?
But before I could say anything—
“Hold tight.”
The man lifted his foot.
And for a moment, I couldn’t help but recall my uncle’s words.
“Watch closely, kid. Your father used to be this kind of lunatic.
Trust me, your big uncle is much more decent.”
Wind gathered around the tip of the man’s foot. Then—
BOOM!
He kicked the door.
I saw it fly off its hinges.
“…Can we really have a peaceful talk with the Patriarch after this?”
They were my escorts, but—
For the first time, I thought maybe I’d brought along someone I couldn’t handle.
Once, they called him the “King of Assassins”…
And to think even my father — whom I trusted — had once been a madman.
That was a new discovery.
“All done,” the man — no, my father — said calmly.
I lifted my head, coming back to my senses.
Reason, which had briefly gone missing from shock, returned.
“You call this ‘done’? You just wrecked the place.”
Then again…
“If Uncle or even my other uncle had been here, I bet it would’ve ended the same way.”
I set aside my astonishment and recalled what he had said earlier:
“To play such tricks on a door…”
He’d said it while looking at the door.
That meant there would have been some problem if he had tried to open it normally.
Since he could manipulate wind, he was probably sensitive to such things.
“Was there some kind of trap on the door?” I asked.
“That was…”
The man started to speak but closed his mouth.
Then—
There was an illusion using water. If you had opened the door normally, it would’ve looked like a completely different room.
The voice echoed directly in my head.
It was my father’s specialty — telepathic speech.
I stiffened slightly at the familiar sound, then kept my lips sealed.
“So… the Patriarch wanted to avoid meeting me that badly?”
Something was off.
Wasn’t he the one who summoned me?
From the guards at the gate who tried to bar us, to the steward who delayed us, to this tricked door…
“If the Patriarch really didn’t want to see me, he could’ve just attached some excuse to his promise and refused outright.”
That would’ve fit his personality.
He might be obsessed with family honor, but he wasn’t a sly man.
“So rather than ‘avoiding’ me, it’s more like he allowed this nonsense to happen on purpose…”
Even the trick on the drawing-room door — he must have watched and done nothing.
By the time I reached that conclusion, the dust storm had settled.
The man carried me inside the room.
“What rudeness is this?”
I turned my head.
Thin curtains fluttered lightly, and beyond them sat the silhouette of the Patriarch by the window.
“I invited you politely, yet you make such a noisy, undignified entrance.”
“Politely invited?”
The man asked calmly.
“Oh, so it was an invitation. Since your invitation was so dramatic, I thought I should respond in kind.”
“……”
“I was merely imitating my elder brother.”
He said it shamelessly.
“At least I didn’t summon lightning.
If he had been here, he’d have replaced the entire drawing room.”
He hadn’t even wanted to call him “brother” earlier, but now he used my uncle’s name as a convenient shield.
“Well, you’re not wrong.
…Though that doesn’t excuse your discourtesy, my son.”
At that moment— whoosh!
A sharp sound tore through the air.
It wasn’t until I looked that I realized it was a blade of wind.
“…!!”
A small cut appeared on my father’s cheek, a thin line of red trickling down his white skin.
“How insolent.”
The sharp, wind-like voice scolded him.
Startled, I quickly covered my father’s cheek with my sleeve.
“You okay?”
His red eyes widened.
I took out my handkerchief and pressed it firmly against his wound.
“It’s not deep, but keep pressure on it.”
Even if he’d lost his memories, it was only natural for my heart to lean toward my father rather than the Patriarch.
How could he do that to a man whose only redeeming feature is his face?!
If you take even his looks away, what’s left?
While I was thinking whether that was a compliment or an insult, the man composed himself again.
I let it hit me on purpose. The old man needs his pride, after all.
His voice hummed again in my head.
The geezer forgets things often these days, so it’s good for you to remember that.
The blunt tone startled me.
“Does memory loss change your vocabulary too?”
Why did he sound almost cocky?
Uncle had said my father used to be like this… and my other uncle confirmed it too.
Just what kind of person were you before, Father?
But that wasn’t what I needed to think about right now.
On the table before the Patriarch sat a teapot — with two cups.
I stared quietly at the empty seat opposite him and the unused teacup.
“Hello, Patriarch.”
I greeted brightly while still in my father’s arms.
“Please forgive my father’s rudeness.
It took us a bit of trouble to get here.”
At the word father, I felt the man’s body stiffen slightly.
No need to let the Patriarch know Father lost his memories again.
And there was no reason to call him “Mister” and reveal any change in our relationship either.
That was all.
If only I could tell him that telepathically too.
“We made it just in time!”
I showed him the clock.
The hands pointed precisely to the time the Patriarch had set for our private meeting.
Through the thin curtain, I could feel his glance sweep toward us — though I couldn’t see his eyes.
He sipped his tea elegantly and, still gazing down at the teapot, spoke.
“Sit down.”
At that, I realized my hunch was right.
The Patriarch hadn’t directly orchestrated the obstacles —
but he had certainly allowed them.
This was a test.
My lips twitched faintly.
“Only one person may sit.”
I looked up at my father and nodded slightly.
But his response wasn’t what I expected.
“I’m afraid you’ll need to prepare one more seat.”
“…!”
What did he just say?
Did he not understand what private audience means?!
“The child is only three years old,” he said evenly,
“so she requires a guardian.”
