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Chapter 03: My Favorite Bread Is Daddy!

Episode 21

"Oh my, what's gotten into these children?"

The lady looked around in embarrassment. I only recognized her face belatedly.

'It's the Marchioness of Arias.'

The Marchioness of Arias was the one who pitied Branda for being separated from her family to care for me. She was also the one who would occasionally furrow her brow almost imperceptibly when she looked at me. And her children...

"Cuckoo! Cuckoo!"

...were those little monsters.

To be fair, this wasn't the first time I'd experienced something like this. Children often tear the wings off butterflies or poke frogs with sticks without any real malice—for the sake of bonding with peers, out of curiosity, because it's fun, or... just because. What they were doing to me was, to them, just a game among themselves.

How did the original Leticia react in these situations? She was the type who'd scream at anyone who even mentioned divine beasts, accusing them of looking down on her—so she couldn't endure open mockery and would cry and lash out with her fists.

And what happened then? She'd end up breaking the other child's nose, a letter of protest would arrive at House Belando, and Leticia would be barred from socializing with noble children until her debut.

"Children sometimes do this out of nowhere. They recently learned bird calls..."

The lady, laughing awkwardly, stiffened when she saw me. A familiar look of contempt in her eyes.

"Oh my."

"..."

"So there really is a cuckoo's chick here..."

She muttered absently, then turned her head as if she'd never said a thing—as if she didn't even want to meet my eyes.

"..."

Well, nothing new.

The original Leticia had been through this so often it was second nature, but I wasn't really Leticia, so it didn't bother me. Besides, her voice wasn't loud enough for my father to hear.

"Um, how about this dress?"

Marsha smiled awkwardly and pointed to a sky-blue dress. She seemed nervous that I might suddenly lash out at those children.

"...It's pretty."

I glanced at my father. He had been reading the newspaper, but must have felt my gaze, for he looked up. His gentle eye-smile made me smile awkwardly in return.

"I think this color would suit you too... with your lovely hair, this soft hue would really..."

Marsha chattered on beside me, but I could barely hear her. The occasional giggles from the children kept distracting me.

Kids will be kids. What do they know? They're just repeating what they've heard adults say. As long as Father doesn't hear, it'll be fine. If only Father doesn't know...

But my wish didn't come true. Children are impulsive and easily excited.

"Cuckoo!"

They didn't realize how loudly their voices carried.

Silence fell over the spacious dress shop. The Marchioness, noticing my father's presence, belatedly clamped her hand over her child's mouth.

I slowly turned my head. Father had set down his newspaper and was looking our way.

Thump. Thump. My heart raced erratically. His rising and walking toward me seemed to happen in slow motion. Had he heard? Of course he had. I had thought we were getting closer, but...

Was it shame at being seen like this? Or anxiety that he might be reminded of my bloodline again? Staring at my tightly pressed lips, I couldn't say a word—I just clutched the hem of my dress.

"Have you picked everything?"

His calm voice reached me then. I forced a smile, as if pretending nothing had happened would make it go away.

"Yes."

"Good, then—"

"Count Belando?"

It was the Marchioness of Arias who called out to my father so casually. Father and I turned to her at the same time.

"Oh my, what a surprise to see you here. And this must be... Lady Belando?"

The lady who had looked at me like I was vermin now smiled brightly, as if she'd never done any such thing. The children followed her approach, unable to hide their mischievous expressions.

"These are my children—my eldest, Lily, and my youngest, Robin."

At her introduction, the girl stepped forward first.

"Hello, Count. I'm Lily—"

"Cuckoo."

Robin whispered tactlessly—loud enough for both my father and me to hear. Lily glanced at us, while the Marchioness's face contorted like a monster's before she forced an awkward smile.

"Oh ho, what's gotten into them... The nanny recently read them a book and taught them a few bird calls, and now they keep doing this. Robin, how does a sparrow sound?"

"Cuckoo."

"Chirp chirp!"

As Robin answered playfully, Lily quickly chimed in. At least the older one had some sense. The Marchioness beamed.

"Oh my, our Lily knows it well. Since you got it right, I'll buy you some chocolate on the way home."

"Ah, Mom, me too! I know chirp chirp! Chirp chirp!"

"Then Robin, how does a pigeon sound?"

"Coo coo, coo coo. Huh? Mom, me too—chocolate."

Such effort.

I watched them, then looked up. Father, who had been watching them with an expressionless face, slowly knelt down.

"...It seems you like cuckoos."

His tone was calm. But at his next words, the Marchioness's face stiffened.

"Both of you have been making cuckoo calls this whole time."

Ah. He did hear.

I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them. Father looked at the silent children, then slowly rose.

"Marsha."

"Yes, Count?"

"I heard that harmonious families often dress alike."

At the sudden remark, Marsha looked slightly flustered.

"Yes, yes. Shall I prepare matching pieces for you and the young lady...?"

"No—I'd like to send a gift to the House of Arias."

At those words, I snapped my head up. Father's expression hadn't changed as he looked at the Marchioness. But the coldness in his voice made his meaning clear.

"Embroidered with cuckoos would be fitting. After all, children's tastes tend to follow their parents'."

My eyes went wide as I stared at Father. His gaze was colder than ever—nothing like when I'd first seen him after the regression. I could feel the other nobles in the shop glancing our way.

"I'll also send some cuckoo-themed accessories. Please don't refuse them."

His excessively polite tone made the Marchioness's face flush red. She glared at me with a fierce expression, then turned to my father.

"...Count."

"Yes, Marchioness."

Father replied, but she couldn't say anything. Apologizing would mean admitting that her children had deliberately mocked me.

'Where would young children learn such things?'

Besides—cuckoo, cuckoo's chick—those weren't things one could know without being taught. And judging by how she treated me, the children had clearly absorbed her influence.

"This is the first time I've seen you out with Lady Belando—it's lovely to see. I do wish my husband would take after you a bit, but he always says childcare is the mother's job and leaves it all to me."

What she really meant was: "This is your first outing with her, so you can't be that attached." In other words, don't pick a fight with House Arias over a child who's not even your own. But Father didn't flinch.

"My, the Marquis is more patriarchal than he appears."

"..."

"Or perhaps he's away in another province? I've only been in the capital a short while, so my news is slow."

Which meant: "So what? I was away at the border, so I had no choice. Your husband is just a patriarch."

The Marchioness's smiling face froze. Father looked at the children, who were watching warily, and opened his mouth as if offering crucial advice.

"If childcare is too much for you, I suggest speaking directly to the Marquis. No matter how patriarchal he may be, I'm sure he wouldn't refuse a request from his beloved wife."

"..."

"Now, if you'll excuse me—I'd like to spend some time with my daughter."

With that, Father lifted me up in one arm. The sudden rise in view made me gasp and cling to his neck. His lips brushed lightly against my forehead.

"Marsha, send everything my daughter picked to the manor."

Everything? My eyes went wide again. Even for nobles, children grow fast—at a high-end shop like this, one or two dresses a year for New Year's and birthdays was typical. Marsha and the Marchioness both looked surprised at his words.

"Everything... you say?"

"Mother, me too. I want another dress too."

"Mom, are you buying chocolate on the way? Choc-o-late."

The children's oblivious whining reached my ears. The Marchioness let out a small, hollow laugh as she looked our way. After a moment of thought, she seemed to make a decision and spoke again.

"Come to think of it, Count—won't you introduce your daughter? She's about the same age as my children—it might be nice if they became friends."

A gesture of reconciliation. She must have realized that my father cared for me more than she'd thought. I figured Father would nod, since picking a fight with House Arias wouldn't be wise.

"Haha. Why bother?"

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