The Adopted Princess Hopes to Escape the Genre - Chapter 8
The easiest way to distinguish between the two is to test pronunciation. In a childcare story, children past a certain age often still speak with a lisp—99.9% of the time.
Seizing the moment when the Duke’s attention was elsewhere, I conducted a test softly to myself.
“The soy sauce factory manager is Kang, and the miso factory manager is Jang.”
…Just one more…
“The giraffe picture I drew is a long giraffe picture, and the giraffe picture you drew is not a long giraffe picture.”
……
“This is such ♩♪♬♩♪♬♩♪♪♩♩.”
I needed to find out the Duke’s true intentions for wanting to adopt me.
“Why?”
The Duke stopped his conversation with the coachman and turned to me, looking puzzled at my abrupt question.
“Why me?”
“Why you, you say?”
“Are you going to adopt me? Or just sponsor me?”
“If you’re okay with it, I’d like to adopt you.”
Okay. It’s definitely an adoption arc. Confirmed. I stared straight into the Duke’s eyes and said,
“Do I resemble someone in your family?”
At my question, the Duke’s eyes visibly wavered.
“…Yes, you do.”
Which one is it? Your wife or your daughter?
“I had… a daughter I lost four years ago. She was such a lovely… child.”
Sure, I bet. That’s so TMI.
“Is that why you want to adopt me?”
“……”
“As a substitute for your lost daughter?”
“It’s not exactly that… The moment I saw you, I felt like I couldn’t just leave you behind.”
The Duke, seeming choked up while talking about his lost daughter, took a sip of tea to clear his throat before continuing.
“Your hair color and eye color are similar to hers… and if she were here now, she’d probably be about your age.”
“And if your daughter comes back? I doubt she’d be thrilled to find someone else in her place.”
“I’d be overjoyed if she returned, but… that’s not going to happen.”
Normally, it wouldn’t, but since I’m possessing someone, there are X number of possibilities.
“It’s been four years since she disappeared. I used every possible method, but there wasn’t a single trace of her. Thinking that adopting you might bring her back is… an impossible scenario.”
The Duke’s complexion turned pale, as if even saying it out loud brought him pain.
“Do you have any other children?”
“I have three sons. They’ll make great older brothers for you.”
What a load of nonsense. This family setup reeks of the perfect recipe for the fake sibling getting scorned for stealing the real one’s place.
“You already have plenty of children. They’re all grown, not babies, so wouldn’t they be shocked to suddenly have a new sibling?”
“They’ll treat you well when they meet you.”
“I’m a complete stranger. What if they think I stole their sibling’s place?”
Parents can never be objective about their kids, huh? I glanced at the Duke coldly.
“You’re trying to lure me in with sweet words like ‘life will be better than here,’ promising to feed me delicious food, let me sleep in a nice place, and wear pretty clothes. But once I’m adopted, are you just going to neglect me?”
“……”
“Will it be excuses like ‘I’m too busy,’ or ‘the family will take care of it’? Will you push the responsibility onto others, saying the trustworthy members of the Duke’s household will handle it, while you think all you need to do is throw money at the problem?”
The Duke looked utterly shocked and flustered by my questions, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at me. Meanwhile, the coachman beside him frowned deeply, his face turning shades of red and purple.
Right now, I was an out-of-control 8-ton truck.
But I couldn’t help it. I was furious with how easily the Duke talked about adoption as if it were nothing.
Adoption is something that requires utmost care, both for the one adopting and the one being adopted.
“What if your sons call me a fake, hurl insults at me, spread rumors, and make my life miserable?”
As I spoke, my words sped up, fueled by my escalating gradient of anger.
“Under the Duke’s neglect, my already limited place would shrink further, and I’d be ignored by the butlers, maids, servants, and knights of the household!”
“……”
“My meals would always consist of hard wheat bread and rotten food, and every morning I’d have to wash my face with ice-cold water—surely that won’t happen, right?”
“N-no… where is all this even coming from…?”
“And so, I’d live every day in neglect and indifference until the real daughter appears, at which point I’ll be executed for attempted murder of a noble!”
“W-wait a moment. Calm down first.”
“Do I look calm to you? My ♪♬♩ is about to fly off again!”
Are you kidding me? I can’t even call a neck a neck now? What am I, Hong Gil-dong?
