Chapter 4

There should be a pond out here. I wanted to wash off the pacifier a bit before it got moldy.

What exactly is this thing made of, anyway? I wondered. I had been living in the Magic Tower in Sylopia for such a long time that it seemed I’d become unaware of normal things in the outside world.

I need a slime… My life would be much easier if I could just catch one.

I diligently made my way down the path. Now that I was outside, I saw a much larger mansion. It was so large that my baby-sized eyes couldn’t take it all in at once.

Everything’s gigantic. At this rate, it might take all day just to reach the mansion’s door.

But I had other things to worry about, like cleaning the pacifier. I kept it in my mouth as I looked around frantically. Not too far in the distance, I spotted a fountain. I wanted to find the pond, but that will do the trick.

I vigorously crawled toward the fountain.

Huff, huff, huff.

Damn! Why is it so far? It looked close at first, but it was miles away.

I gasped for air. It was difficult to keep the pacifier in my mouth as I panted. I worried I might drop it on the ground.

I can’t let that happen. I immediately stopped for a break, planting my butt on the ground and stretching my legs out. I squeezed the pacifier in my mouth with both hands.

“Phoo…”

I held onto the pacifier as I caught my breath.

The ground felt quite warm from the sun’s rays. What time of year was it now? How long had it been since I was betrayed?

I tilted my head. I felt dizzy looking up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight… maybe it’s a nice day in autumn. I reflexively shielded my eyes and put more effort into holding up my head. Swaying, I bent forward to prevent myself from tumbling onto my back.

Phew, that was close! Even a slight bump to my soft baby skull could cause significant damage. I considered patting myself on the back with my tiny hand, joyful that I had saved my precious head.

“Hngh…” I could almost… reach…

I gave up. My arm was too short.

I got back down on all fours and hurriedly crawled along the path. Thanks to my hard work, I finally reached the fountain. But when I did, I froze, panting.

Huff, huff, huff.

It was much higher than I expected. Even when I got up and stood on my tiptoes, I couldn’t see a drop of water.

It took ages to get here… I was in a daze. It seemed like it would take me even longer to get back.

Since I had already come this far, I wanted to keep trying. I steadied myself against the marble platform at the base of the fountain and struggled to stand up. Above me, I could hear the trickling sounds of water cycling through the fountain.

* * *

“What is that?”

“It’s… a baby, Your Grace,” replied a nearby servant, bowing.

Duke Deschar Klaune, the head of House Klaune, turned to the servant and scowled. The man quickly fell silent under the duke’s piercing glare.

“Do you think I don’t know that? I’m asking why a baby is wandering around out here.”

“Um, my apologies, Your Grace.” The servant bowed again.

Meanwhile, the duke’s butler finally arrived and stood closely at his side.

“Whose child is that?” Deschar asked him. “Are they a direct relation or a distant one? I want to know who would dare let their child crawl around unattended.”

“She’s probably the late young master’s daughter,” the butler said as he gazed at the baby with a faint smile.

Even as the men talked, no one seemed willing to approach the child to offer her any help.

Deschar’s fierce demeanor softened momentarily at the butler’s unexpected answer. He stared at the baby and pondered. “Is that so? She was born not long ago.”

“Right, it was only recently. But she’s now about the age that babies take their first steps.”

“So, what is she doing here now?” the duke asked, softly stroking his chin.

Despite his graying hair and beard, Deschar was a fit man. His face bore wrinkles, but his vigor was undiminished. While the striking silver of his eyes had faded slightly over the years, they still held a zeal that matched his youthful energy.

Suddenly, another man approached. “Father, is there anything the matter?”

“Charente,” the duke greeted him.

The duke’s son had a commanding presence. Though his gaze was cold, his voice was soft, and each step he took exuded elegance yet power.

As the duke’s eyes turned back to the baby, Charente calmly shifted his attention to her well. “Who is she?” he asked.

“The child your younger brother left behind.”

“Ah…” It was a small sigh that contained a hint of a chuckle beneath it. Charente’s brother had rebelliously run away with a woman of unknown origin and fathered a child. He ended up dead, and what arrived back at the mansion in his stead was a newborn baby.

“So that’s the girl,” the young man muttered. He didn’t care to refer to the baby by her name, Shelina.

Though nobody pointed it out, Shelina had finally succeeded in standing on two feet. However, it seemed her legs lacked the strength to support her as she tottered back and forth.

“Look out!” Eyes wide, Deschar made a move to run forward, then cleared his throat and took a step back.

The onlookers were nervous as they watched the baby wobble. After groping at the marble platform to try to find her balance, Shelina finally managed to regain her grip.

“It appears that the maids are not seeing to their tasks properly,” Charente commented in a chilling tone.

At his words, one of the nearby maids shrank back in fear. His displeasure wasn’t directed toward her, but the suddenly frigid atmosphere made her feel singled out. She stiffened in place, unable to move.

“Ease up, Charente,” the duke said.

“Yes, Father.”

At his father’s command, the chill surrounding the young man dissipated. The temperature seemed to return to normal. Still, the maid clenched her fists tightly to conceal her trembling.

“You may leave now,” the duke ordered her.

“Yes, Your Grace.” The maid bowed deeply and quickly retreated.

A cold smile settled on Charente’s lips. Deschar glanced at him and lightly clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Perhaps you’re too lenient, Father.”

“Perhaps you’re too harsh.”

At his father’s words, Charente clamped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Shelina was finally managing to balance herself with one hand while clutching the pacifier in the other. With her short arms and legs, she struggled to reach the water in the fountain’s basin. She was desperate to rinse it off, but her efforts were in vain. No matter how much she squirmed and kicked, her arms were just too short.

Charente clicked his tongue as the baby let out a small whine. “What are you all waiting for? Take her back to the nursery immediately,” he commanded sternly.

The butler immediately bowed, then gestured to the maid who was quietly standing behind them. She hurried toward the child.

At that moment, Shelina’s eyes turned toward Deschar and Charente. She had stuck the pacifier back in her mouth and dropped to the ground, but quickly sprang back up as she suddenly noticed the approaching maid. She shot a glare at the men and scrambled away as fast as she could.

“Scurrying away like a little cockroach.” Charente’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes remained void of humor.

Deschar opened his mouth as if to scold his son, then sighed and turned away. He should correct the distasteful comment, but the comparison was undeniable.

“It was you who decided not to accept her, was it not?” the young man continued. “A half-blood cannot inherit the name of Klaune. Even the thought of that child being directly related to our line is dreadful.”

As they spoke, the baby began to disappear from their view.

Charente adhered to strict principles of lineage. He had never acknowledged his only younger brother, mostly due to the man’s trifling and carefree behavior. He also abhorred his brother’s tendency to socialize regardless of social class.

Deschar Klaune also valued blood lineage and believed that its dilution was inferior. Only children born through appropriately arranged marriages between pure-blooded direct descendants of high-class families could inherit the name of Klaune and carry on the bloodline. It was a long-standing tradition and a yet unbroken rule.

“You needn’t remind me, Charente. I don’t need my son nagging at my side.” With a stern expression, the duke resumed his steps.