The Adopted Princess Hopes to Escape the Genre - Chapter 37
I was so exhausted that my thoughts bypassed my brain and slipped straight out of my mouth.
It wasn’t that I disliked Ali, but she was definitely a handful for me to deal with.
Shaking my head to clear away the lingering presence of the maid, I knocked on Rashid’s door.
Soon, I heard hurried footsteps from inside, followed by the sound of the door swinging open.
The moment Rashid saw me standing there, his face visibly fell.
A deep sigh of disappointment escaped from his lips.
“…Ah.”
Even I felt a little hurt at such an obvious display of disappointment.
Annoyed by his reaction, I shot back at him in an accusatory tone.
“What’s with the sigh the moment you see my face?”
Rashid’s face stiffened, realizing his mistake. He quickly schooled his expression, but his lips remained tightly sealed. He clearly had no intention of explaining why he had sighed.
“Were you waiting for someone?”
“What?”
“You ran straight to the door the moment I knocked.”
The second I finished speaking, the calm mask Rashid had been wearing cracked. He had be caught red-handed
If he was disappointed, that meant he had expectations.
I had only thrown out the question to test the waters, but he had fallen for it immediately.
“Shall we go inside and talk? Why are we just standing here at the door?”
“Go, go inside? Where do you think you’re going?”
I casually ignored Rashid’s words and pushed against his back, guiding him into the room despite his struggling.
Caught off guard, Rashid folded his arms and stared at me as if wondering what kind of person I was.
“What kind of girl just…!”
“A girl just what.”
“Just barges into a boy’s room like this!”
Rashid snapped at me sharply. But despite his prickly tone, the tips of his ears were turning red like strawberries.
‘Oh, Rashid. A rare Confucian boy in the West?’
Surprised by the unexpected reaction, I widened my eyes for a moment, then quickly curled my lips into a playful smile.
A seven-year-old brat talking about men to a mentally twenty-four-year-old like me? What a bold kid.
Suppressing my laughter, I raised my right hand to my forehead and exaggeratedly glanced around, teasing him.
“Eh? Where’s the man here? I don’t see one?”
Rashid, infuriated by my response, turned an even deeper shade of red. His clenched fists trembled.
Watching his reaction while stifling my laughter, I covered my raised lips.
Pouting with puffed cheeks, Rashid stomped toward the bed, grumbling.
“So, why are you here?”
“Me? I walked here.”
“Not that! Why are you here!”
I made my way toward the sofa in the center of the room.
“I thought I’d hang out with you and get to know you better.”
“What about my intentions for today?”
“Your intention can be found at the clinic. Come here, Rashid!”
(TL Note: this is a play on words as “의사” can be both “Doctor” and “Intention”)
Sitting on the floor with my back against the sofa, I patted the spot beside me and called him over. But Rashid’s expression was strange. He looked at me in shock, his mouth slightly open, before asking,
“Why are you sitting on the floor?”
Only after he pointed it out did I realize I had instinctively sat on the floor, using the sofa as a backrest, just like I used to in my original world.
…Koreans naturally sit like this.
Feeling a bit awkward, I let out a sheepish laugh and climbed up onto the sofa properly.
“Oh, right. That’s not how things are done here… It’s just a habit. Anyway, hurry up and sit.”
Though he looked at me like I was ridiculous, Rashid still complied.
He walked over with heavy steps, plopped down in the seat I pointed to, then glanced at me before sighing.
“You… really seem to live without a care in the world.”
I whipped my head toward him at the unexpected comment. That sounded a little insulting.
“What are you talking about? I live full of worries.”
Rashid’s face clearly said, ‘You?’ but I pretended not to notice and asked,
“Do you have something on your mind? I’m pretty good at giving advice.”
Rashid looked flustered at the sudden question, but his eyes soon sparkled with interest. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“I try my best at everything because I want to be recognized and loved by someone… But what if that person doesn’t care about me, no matter what I do?”
I almost replied out of habit but quickly shut my mouth. This wasn’t something I could answer carelessly. After a brief moment of contemplation, I asked,
“Just to be sure, do you need comfort right now, or do you want a solution?”
Rashid’s expression turned uncertain. Sensing his hesitation, I added,
“When I give advice, I usually focus on finding solutions. But some people just want comfort or empathy instead. Which one are you looking for?”
Given the sudden choices, Rashid deliberated for a moment before answering carefully.
“If I had to choose, I guess… a solution. But maybe a little comfort, too.”
“Alright. So who’s this ‘someone’?”
“Uh… my father.”
Rashid had mentioned an unexpected figure.
In other words, Rashid was asking me how a child could receive love from a parent.
“How do you get Duke Delphinium to dote on you?”
“What?”
“You’re his adopted daughter, so shouldn’t you know best?”
I was at a loss for words.
He had naturally assumed I must be trying to win the duke’s favor with sweet behavior.
An underlying belief that an adopted child must always be in a weaker position.
A voice filled with naive curiosity, without a hint of malice.
The perfect blend of those three elements completely shattered my composure.
Rashid’s gaze was deadly serious.
“Why do you have to do something?” I asked.
Rashid looked at me as if he truly couldn’t understand the question.
“Why do you have to do something just to be loved by your parents?”
“Even I have to make an effort as their real son, so shouldn’t you, as an adopted daughter, work even harder?”
His response left me speechless.
Seeing how sincere he looked, I couldn’t help but sigh.
“What kind of child has to work to be loved by their parents?”
