This Three-Year-Old Is A Villainess - Chapter 19
Tweet, tweet.
I was awakened by the sound of birds and slowly got up from my bed. The morning scent indicated that the sun had already risen.
As my grogginess began to clear, I suddenly realized something was amiss.
This wasn’t my bedroom.
Panicking, I looked around.
A familiar desk.
Familiar wallpaper.
And, a tapestry with an emblem depicting four crows—the coat of arms of House Astra.
‘It’s my grandfather’s study…!’
How did I end up here?
I strained my memory, and the events of yesterday came back to me.
I had cried myself to sleep, utterly exhausted.
…And it was in my grandfather’s arms.
‘He must have brought me here.’
Lost in thought, I surveyed the room.
I seemed to be alone in the study.
My grandfather was nowhere to be seen.
Well, that was a relief.
I tried to get up from the sofa, but I noticed a round drool stain on the spot where I had been lying.
It seemed I’d drooled in my sleep.
Scrambling, I quickly wiped the drool stain away.
As I did so, I heard the sound of the door opening.
“Are you awake?” a familiar voice said.
“Conwad!”
“Did you sleep well?”
I had been fine when I was asleep. It was now that I had a problem with my sleeping arrangements.
I replied with a gloomy expression,
“I, I wike my own bed.”
The thing was, because of my supporting character penalty, even if I cried myself to sleep again, I’d be brought back to my room next time…
“We tried to move you to your room, but you seemed uncomfortable when we touched you.”
It must have made a fuss when they tried to move me.
‘I’m doomed, utterly doomed.’
I had tried not to be annoying, but now I was probably the most annoying person here.
With a worried face, I asked Conrad,
“Whew’s Gwanfavver?”
“He’s in the dining hall. He asked us to wake you up and bring you there.”
“Weally?”
“You haven’t had dinner, so you must be very hungry, right?”
Thank goodness.
If my grandfather had found me bothersome, he wouldn’t have summoned me to the dining hall.
With a relieved expression, I held Conrad’s hand, and we headed to the dining room.
In the dining room, my grandfather, Viscount Debussy, and others were having a meal.
“Hewwo.”
“…Yes.”
“Good morning, Miss.”
“Ywes!”
I smiled brightly and took a seat next to my grandfather.
The servants and Viscount Debussy were taken aback. They hadn’t seen anyone sitting next to the Duke before.
Come to think of it, there were never any grandchildren sitting next to him.
When my grandfather sat in his designated place, everyone else would take seats at the far end of the table.
I glanced at my grandfather to see if he might be bothered, but he remained silent.
‘Well, it’s fine then.’
As soon as I took my seat, breakfast was served. The morning’s menu consisted of French toast, cut into small pieces for a child like me.
I enthusiastically picked up my fork, ready to dig into my food.
But…
‘Eh?’
I noticed that my grandfather’s plate still had most of his food untouched. He
had a large steak on his plate, glistening and oozing with juiciness on the cut side. It looked absolutely scrumptious.
Was he not feeling hungry?
Even so, his salad, accompanied by vinaigrette, was also completely untouched.
‘Oh, I see. Eating must be uncomfortable for him.’
Perhaps he had dental issues or jaw pain.
I had observed my grandfather gently massaging his jaw under his ear when I was following Conrad around.
‘Poor thing, he’s in pain.’
Not only did he have to endure being unwell, but he also had to endure this complicated situation. If he showed a hint of pain, the hyenas would pounce.
The Duke had grown old, so it was time to plan for the future, they’d think.
I pondered for a moment.
Then, I stabbed a piece of my toast with my fork and extended it towards my grandfather.
“…!”
“…!”
“…!”
There were surprised gasps from all around.
The servants were wide-eyed, as were Conrad and Viscount Debussy. They looked utterly taken aback.
My grandfather hesitated for a moment and then looked at me.
“What’s this.”
“Twy it. It’s yuuuummy.”
“…”
I knew that he needed to stay healthy for my own safety.
From the looks of it, he has been eating only porridge for several days.
Considering his meticulous nature, he probably wouldn’t change the menu to make his condition obvious to others.
The atmosphere in the room became as still as an ice rink.
Amid the silent room where no one seemed to be breathing, Viscount Debussy coughed.
“Isn’t it the Young Miss’s heartfelt effort?”
“…”
“Or should I eat it? Will you give it to me, Miss?”
“Never mind.”
Grandfather accepted the toast I offered.
By the way he chewed, it seemed he had no problem with the soft French toast.
I extended the toast to him again.
“More.”
“…”
“Nom, nom.”
“…”
Grandfather accepted it again.
Viscount Debussy laughed as if he had lost it, just like yesterday.
