Home/They say the Northern Grand Duke didn't have his front teeth at age six/ch16
Chapter 02: No One Said Regression Was a One-Seater
Episode 16
"That's—!"
Adrian snapped, raising his voice. I quickly clung to Father's neck and squeezed my voice into a whine.
"But Tishy's gonna marry Daddy, so she can't marry the Young Duke."
How about that? Pretty convincing for a six-year-old, right? I tried my best to look innocent. But—
"Leticia."
Father spoke then. It wasn't the reaction of a father overwhelmed by how cute and adorable his daughter was for wanting to marry him. With a perfectly serious face, he simply said—
"Family members cannot marry each other."
"..."
"..."
His words were so definitive that it took me a moment to process them. Not that I had expected him to say, "Aww, let's get married, sweetie," but...
'You could have just played along and called it cute!'
This is the man who supposedly raised hell when Leticia was about to be executed? Are we sure he's not some stranger possessed by Fabian Belando?
I stared at him with a very reasonable suspicion. Unfazed, Father calmly began explaining why family members couldn't marry each other.
---
The rain didn't let up for a full week. That meant Adrian stayed at the Belando manor that long—and that I had to spend that time with him.
"Tishy want to play with Daddy."
During that time, I clung to my father as much as possible. I wanted to avoid being alone with Adrian at all costs. Of course, the nanny and other servants were always nearby, but I couldn't risk ending up alone in the same room again.
"My lady, the Count has work to do."
"Hng, Daddy."
I whined, grabbing Father's hand.
A week into his stay, Adrian no longer glared at me as openly as he had at first. But he wasn't acting like a child either—he simply behaved quietly, as if avoiding unnecessary trouble.
Still, he hadn't completely stopped watching me. Whenever I talked with the nanny or Father, I'd often feel his persistent gaze on me. And each time, I'd grow uneasy and act even more spoiled—deliberately hanging on Father's arm, throwing tantrums, slurring my words with "Tishy dis" and "Tishy dat."
"...Then after the meal, we'll visit the exhibition hall for a bit."
"Wow, really?"
"Yes, though I can't spare much time."
Despite his matter-of-fact explanation about why family couldn't marry, Father was surprisingly weak to my whining. If I said I wanted to eat together, he'd move my chair closer; if I said I wanted to play, he'd make time, even if only for thirty minutes.
He wasn't what you'd call a doting father, but he wasn't cold-hearted either. Maybe he was also mindful of Adrian's presence.
"Hee-hee, Daddy is the best."
I gave a thumbs up. 'Best'? That's what I call it. This is how I live now.
"Yes, Leticia. Eat your meal."
Father pushed the plate toward me. On it was a hearty bread piled with roasted meat. I deliberately pouted and turned my head.
"Tishy wants a different bread, though."
"Don't be picky. The Young Grand Duke is watching too."
Father glanced toward Adrian as he chided me. I ignored him and looked up.
"Daddy, what's Tishy's favorite bread?"
Caught off guard, Father hesitated.
"Strawberry cake?"
...How did he know? I was taken aback, but I stuck out my lip in a sulk.
"Daddy doesn't even know what bread I like..."
"..."
"Hee-hee."
"The Count has been away at the border, my lady."
Unable to watch any longer, Marianne scolded me gently.
"If you tell him now, the Count will remember."
"Hmm."
I answered sulkily, and Father looked thoroughly baffled. I finally grinned.
"Daddy."
"Hm?"
"My favorite bread is my daddy."
Again, Father's face showed bewilderment. Hmm, was that too much? As I awkwardly scratched my cheek—
"...Haha."
"..."
"Children these days are quite... witty."
Father gave an awkward laugh and awkwardly patted my head. Right, I wasn't expecting him to scoop me up and say, "Oh my, my daughter loves her daddy the most, coochie-coo."
'How did this man ever get married?'
I wanted to ask how he'd ever met my mother. He must have just accepted whatever arranged marriage his family proposed without question.
My face felt hot with embarrassment. I swallowed a sigh and turned my head. Adrian was watching me with an expressionless face.
---
Whenever Leticia was in lessons, Marianne would visit the Count's study—to give her daily report before taking a break.
"...Then I'll relay that the expedition preparations should be made."
"Good."
It seemed the Count had just finished speaking with his adjutant, who gave Marianne a light nod and left. Marianne bowed her head slightly in return and stopped before the desk.
"Are you heading back to the border again?"
"I've already stayed longer than planned."
Fabian replied curtly. It was an expected answer, so Marianne simply nodded in silence. A brief quiet followed.
"I have a question."
"Ask."
"Leticia has been acting much more childish lately. Her speech has suddenly become more slurred as well."
"Yes."
"Is there... something wrong?"
Marianne slowly lifted her head. Her face, with its neatly pinned brown hair hanging loose, was as composed as ever—but seeing the concern for his daughter in his eyes brought her some relief.
"First of all, her lessons are proceeding normally."
"..."
"When she's alone with me... she doesn't act quite that childish."
Marianne had also been observing Leticia's changes. Since Adrian's arrival, she had been expressing affection and acting spoiled with Fabian and herself much more often. It wasn't hard to guess the reason.
"Children who have been mature sometimes temporarily regress when a younger sibling is born—because they feel their parents' attention and love have been taken away."
What child wouldn't be unsettled when their awkward father brings a young child into the manor, feeds them, and fusses over them? Every time she saw Leticia using a lisp beyond her age, Marianne's heart ached with sympathy.
"I believe she may be feeling anxious."
"...Is that so."
Fabian nodded quietly, as if he had somewhat anticipated this. A self-deprecating smile spread across his lips.
"So even a cold-hearted father gets treated like a father after all."
"Count."
Marianne murmured softly, but Fabian didn't reply. He simply organized his papers and set down his glasses.
"Once the rain lets up this afternoon, I'll take the Young Grand Duke to the palace. And... I'll depart for the border again tomorrow."
"..."
"I've taken up too much of your rest time. You've worked hard."
The dismissal had come. But Marianne didn't move. When Fabian looked up in puzzlement—
"...Actually, children don't particularly enjoy going to places like exhibition halls with adults."
"..."
"After all, quietly viewing exhibits is boring for them. Especially at Lady Leticia's age, they much prefer playing with friends their own age."
"...Ah."
Fabian's brow furrowed slightly. There was a hint of dismay in his expression.
"I hadn't thought of that. If she said she didn't like it, I would have—"
"But she does enjoy being with you, Count."
It wasn't that she had never resented Fabian Belando. The longer his absence, the more Branda's influence grew in the manor. She had wiped away tears beside the sleeping child, wondering why he turned away from this small girl, why he couldn't trust Selena.
Yet seeing him awkwardly try to engage with the child softened her heart as well. Or perhaps it was because of Leticia, acting spoiled toward him.
"Though it hasn't been long, the young lady knows—that the Count has been making time and effort for her."
Now that they had built even a few memories together, even when Fabian left, Leticia wouldn't feel abandoned by her father.
And if she ever did entertain that thought again, there was now evidence to refute it—the Count had made time for her every day despite his busy schedule, had listened to her stories, had kissed her, had tried to build good memories.
Marianne bowed deeply to Fabian and turned away. The rain was beginning to subside.
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