TREV 37

Chapter : 37

After finishing my preparations, I went downstairs and saw the Duke standing in the central hall.

“Patricia, you look lovely today as well.”

“…Thank you.”

I scanned him, hoping to return his compliment, but I couldn’t find anything worthy of praise, so I awkwardly nodded.

“It seems it’s time. Shall we depart?”

“Yes, let’s.”

The Duke nodded hastily and extended his hand, as if to escort me.

“Do I have to?” I thought, but I couldn’t ignore the hand he was offering, so I took it.

“Then, Duke, Princess, please take care.”

“Father, have a good outing.”

I climbed into the carriage, seeing off the butler and my older brothers.

Morgan still glared at me, and Millum and Barber didn’t look pleased with the situation either; dissatisfaction was written all over their faces.

Their protests continued endlessly.

Though I wanted to ruin their moods in return for their obvious snubs, I decided against it—I didn’t want to stoop to childish behavior.

I didn’t like their attitude toward me, but I had no desire to confront them by bringing up the Duke’s false affection.

Hiiing.

Soon, the carriage started moving, and a heavy silence settled inside.

The Duke made a persistent effort to talk to me, asking this and that, but the conversation quickly ended each time.

Of course, much of the blame lay with me, as my answers were short and to the point.

“So, how’s the piano you’ve been learning recently?”

“It’s not fun.”

“Not fun?”

“Yes. I’d rather learn something else.”

“Something else? What do you mean? I can teach you anything you want—just tell me.”

I looked at him for a moment, noticing his excitement.

The Duke gently reassured me, telling me not to worry and to speak freely.

“If your daughter wants it, why would I refuse?”

“I want to learn swordsmanship.”

“…Swordsmanship?”

“Yes. Swordsmanship.”

It seemed easier than expected to find a swordsmanship teacher for Carlos.

Originally, I would have had to request it from the Duke.

But since he volunteered to arrange everything, it made things simpler.

“Very well. If that’s what you want, we’ll do it. I’ll speak to Jeyf right away.”

“I don’t want Jeyf.”

I couldn’t allow the family’s knight to instruct Carlos.

“Look at your older brothers who learned from Jeyf. I think Jeyf has no real talent for teaching.”

“Hm, from what you say, that seems true.”

As the saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Morgan, Barber, and Millum had no talent for swordsmanship.

Even if a skilled instructor taught them, their abilities wouldn’t improve.

Despite this obvious fact, the Duke seemed unwilling to blame his sons.

“Moreover, the family knight would naturally teach with consideration for me. So I want to learn from someone skilled who isn’t a family knight.”

“…Very well. I’ll find a good knight to teach you within this week.”

Within a week.

Since Duke Herarla had taken about six months to find a residence, at least for six months, Carlos could learn swordsmanship.

It seemed he might start learning even before the point in the novel when he begins practicing the sword.

I could only hope it would help him.

Knock, knock.

It was early afternoon when I returned from the flower viewing.

When I gave permission to enter, Emma came in carrying a tray.

Handing me water, she spoke.

“Princess, did you enjoy the flower viewing with the Duke?”

I wanted to answer with a simple nod, but Emma’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, so I spoke.

“Yes. The chrysanthemums were really beautiful. I think they’ll be even prettier a little later.”

“It seems the other young masters were disappointed they couldn’t join you.”

“Yes. Father wanted us to go alone.”

Emma looked genuinely happy that I had gone out alone with the Duke.

But for me, it was an uncomfortable moment.

I thought she had called me to discuss something important, but that wasn’t the case.

“So, what about the Duke…”

Just as Emma started speaking again, the door suddenly swung open.

It was none other than Morgan, who entered without knocking.

“….”

He stared at me without permission.

“What? You barged in without asking, and now you’re glaring at me?”

Did he expect a staring contest? I frowned at Morgan’s sharp, unfounded glare.

Emma, looking flustered, glanced between me and Morgan before quietly slipping out.

“Ha, don’t annoy me. If you have nothing to say, leave.”

“…So you went out alone with Father and think that makes you someone special?”

“What?”

“You think that because Father pays attention to you, you’re important. Do you really believe that?”

I looked at him silently. He spoke again.

“You said some ridiculous things to Father, didn’t you? You whined that no one in this house likes you, that it’s sad?”

Morgan sneered, wrinkling his nose.

He seemed to want me to feel embarrassed, but I wasn’t.

It was merely acting, not genuine.

“Don’t you know why Father treats you kindly? He does it because he’s worried you might tell others—not because he truly loves you.”

Morgan’s harsh words seemed intended to hurt me.

“Really?”

“Yes. Father loves me most.”

Or perhaps he meant that he himself was Father’s favorite.

I quietly observed Morgan.

Why had he come to find me, so displeased?

“You think you’re someone special?”

Honestly, yes. I did feel that way.

So Morgan, who often shouted at me to assert dominance, couldn’t fully express his frustration now.

Of course, I knew better than anyone that the Duke’s kindness wasn’t entirely genuine.

I had even orchestrated it, coercing him into acting kindly.

Perhaps Morgan couldn’t accept the Duke’s sudden warmth toward me.

Or maybe he couldn’t bear not being able to vent his anger at me freely.

Perhaps he disliked me mingling with the people Morgan considered the Duke’s real family.

“Everything Father does kindly toward me is a lie?”

“Yes.”

But that was his concern.

Whether he was confused or angry was none of my business.

Previously, I had endured Morgan’s misbehavior out of necessity, but now the situation had changed.

The Duke was attentive to my feelings and seemed to be looking for a way to ease my long-standing sorrow.

“Did you really believe it?”

Now that I had the choice, I had no intention of tolerating his rudeness out of consideration for his personal confusion.

“Then let’s ask Father. If it’s really a lie.”

But I was irritated by his constant rudeness.

I didn’t have the patience to wait for Morgan to accept the situation.

“What?”

Ignoring the bewildered Morgan, I left the room.

Footsteps echoed as I walked.

Suddenly, a panicked voice called out:

“Hey, Patricia! Stop right there!”

Ignoring his desperate shouting, I continued until he hurriedly blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“To Father.”

His pupils trembled slightly.

“I’m going to check if what my older brother said is true. So, move aside.”

“…Don’t go.”

Morgan seemed aware that the Duke might reprimand him for this and spread his arms to block the way.

But I had no reason to listen to him.

Neglect, mockery, scolding, even violence.

None of his actions had ever shown me consideration.

So it was laughable for Morgan to expect my patience or forgiveness.

“I said move.”

“Don’t go!”

“Why should I?”

“You foolish brat! How dare you glare at me like that!”

Morgan raised his hand as if to strike in anger.

At that moment, the door to Duke Herarla’s study opened.

“Morgan! What is all this commotion?!”

The foolish Morgan forgot he was in front of the Duke’s study and shouted furiously.

“Sniff… Father.”

“…Patricia?”

The Duke blinked in surprise as I began to cry.

A faint look of dismay appeared on his face.

“No, Father, it’s not that!”

“Keep your mouth shut! I told you not to touch my younger daughter!”

The Duke’s shouting made Morgan’s shoulders tremble.

“How did you make her cry?”

“Sniff… Father!”

“Sigh… Patricia. It’s alright, stop crying and speak calmly.”

The Duke sighed softly and patted my shoulder.

I spoke without hesitation, finally able to voice what I had been waiting to say.

“My older brother suddenly came and got angry. Sniff… He said everything Father does for me is a lie. That the reason Father treats me well is actually…”

“Morgan Herarla! You foolish brat!”

The Duke’s roar was sharp and sudden.

“What foolish nonsense are you spouting? Apologize to Patricia immediately!”

The Duke seemed worried I might be hurt again.

“You don’t need to pay attention to anything that fool says, Patricia.”

“Sniff… sob.”

“Let’s not linger here—come inside.”

The Duke, fidgeting, led me into the study.

“Morgan Herarla. Why are you standing there like an idiot?”

“…Father.”

“Follow me.”

At the Duke’s firm command, Morgan’s face twisted.

He looked as if he might cry at any moment.