1.
“I am telling you, I am not Your Majesty’s daughter. Princess Ellensia is.”
“You are my daughter, and so is Ellensia.”
“No. Only Ellensia is Your Majesty’s daughter. Since the child born to the Empress is Ellensia…”
“Whether she was born to her or not is irrelevant. I have regarded you as my daughter until now, and I will continue to do so in the future.”
“But blood makes one a child, so how can it be irrelevant? Ellensia is…”
“Even if we do not share the same blood…”
Only after repeating this Q&A, merely changing the words a few times, did Philomel realize that he was sincere.
Indeed, there was no reason for Eustis to lie to her. He had nothing to gain.
Even so, it felt so unbelievable that she had kept asking.
Now, she had no choice but to acknowledge it, if only because her voice had grown weary. Nasar was right: the Emperor was looking for her out of genuine concern.
The Emperor spoke again.
“Therefore, I shall enter you into the family register. You are, and will continue to be, my daughter and a princess of the Belerov Empire.”
“…I am grateful you have thought of me as a daughter, but I do not wish to be entered into the register. Even if I am innocent, I am the daughter of a sinner. I have no qualifications to live as a princess. It is already a grace that you do not hold me accountable for the crime…”
“You have the qualifications of a princess.”
“The ministers will oppose it.”
“I assure you. No one will oppose it.”
Eustis glared, his expression conveying that he would not tolerate anyone who dared to object.
*That’s only because they’re terrified of you and can’t express it to your face!*
Philomel swallowed the retort and turned her head away.
“What does the opinion of others have to do with us becoming a family? What matters is your will and mine.”
Eustis persisted.
“…What about Ellensia? Would she even want to be sisters with me?”
Philomel asked quietly. Becoming his family meant becoming family with Ellensia as well.
“…That child said she would like to get along with you if you returned.”
Only then did Eustis answer, his tone calm.
“Getting along and becoming family are two different things.”
“I will not force the two of you to build sisterly affection. I did not have such things with my own siblings, either. And I promise not to discriminate between you and Ellensia.”
That he would treat Ellensia and herself fairly—it was so absurd it nearly made her laugh.
Why would he go so far as to say something so ridiculous just to keep her? Was she even worth that much?
“Saying you will treat me the same as your biological daughter… Ellensia will be saddened if she hears that.”
“Philomel, why do you keep worrying about the reactions of others in advance? I have said this before, but you are overly conscious of their eyes. Speak your own honest will.”
When Philomel remained silent, his expression clouded.
“…Are you perhaps unwilling to be entered into the register?”
*Do I not want it?*
It was a situation she had never once imagined, and she was caught off guard.
The reason she had worked so hard to look good all this time was to put everyone at ease until she could run away, and to receive a lighter punishment if she were caught. She had never entertained the expectation that her efforts would make her his daughter. His daughter was Ellensia; that was a position Philomel dared not covet.
She asked herself: *Do I want to become Eustis’s adopted daughter?*
In truth, she was skeptical of his motives. Perhaps he mistook the affection for someone who was ‘well-behaved and quite pleasing’ for the love one felt toward a child.
The previous Emperor was a heartless father who pitted his children against each other for power; the Imperial Palace of that era had been a silent battlefield. According to *Princess Ellensia*, Eustis had never felt deep affection before meeting his wife, Isabella. Having only just met Ellensia, he might not be able to distinguish between a family bond and a shallow fondness.
Still, looking only at the results, she might be saved from death. It wouldn’t be bad to avoid being locked in a prison.
*Right. Let’s accept it.*
She would accept it for now. When the time came that he was so infatuated with his biological daughter that his interest in his adopted one waned, she would leave.
That was the rational judgment. Whether she personally liked it or not was irrelevant.
Just as she reached that conclusion and opened her mouth to agree:
“…I don’t want to.”
Words contrary to her thoughts slipped out.
Philomel herself was the most surprised.
“I do not want to be Your Majesty’s daughter.”
Another version of her screamed from within her heart.
*Are you crazy? What if you keep getting on his nerves and he decides to kill you? Just say you’ll accept it!*
But the things she had buried deep in her heart, once the lid was opened, came pouring out. Philomel could not stop the flow. She gave a name to each of the remnants of emotions she had been piling up until now.
“I… ever since I came of age, I have never thought of you as a father, and I have no memory of being treated like a daughter by you.”
As she spoke, she realized she could no longer live as she had for the last seven years.
“You may have thought of me as a daughter in your heart alone, but living here was hell for me.”
From the time she was nine years old, when she first picked up the book—or even before that.
“You told me it would be better if I lived like I was dead. So, I just lived like I was dead.”
It wasn’t just living quietly; it meant killing her emotions, wearing a mask, and leaving only an empty shell.
“Do not try to hold onto me anymore, Your Majesty.”
Not *Father*, but *Your Majesty*.
The title, which she intentionally emphasized, echoed emptily. Eustis’s blue eyes wavered like a candle flame in a strong wind.
She had done it.
The seven years she spent trying to win his favor had returned to nothing in an instant. Yet, the sense of relief was greater than any worry. She didn’t know what was so shocking, but the Emperor’s face twisted. It seemed that due to his high pride, he had not expected to be rejected at all.
*Creeeak.*
Eustis stood up abruptly and turned his back to her, facing the wall.
*Is he signaling that he doesn’t even want to see my face?*
Suddenly, he spoke.
“…That time. You’re talking about that.”
He remembered. For her, it had been a turning point; for him, it must have been nothing more than a passing remark.
“You had been holding onto that.”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry.”
For a moment, Philomel doubted her hearing. *Sorry?* Eustis was apologizing?
“At that time, I… no. Whatever I say will only be an excuse.”
A strange conversation continued: one looking at the wall, the other at his back.
“I will apologize formally at a later date. And reconsider the matter of the registry.”
“I just told you I refuse…”
“One year.”
Suddenly, he proposed a specific period.
“Even if you leave, would you not stay here for just one year? If you do that, I will not stop you wherever you go afterward. I am also willing to support you as much as you want, whether there is work you want to do or places you want to go.”
She was silent in her confusion, and he seemed to misinterpret her hesitation.
“If one year is not to your liking, how about ten months?”
“…?”
“……Eight months?”
“…….”
“Fine. Six months.”
“…Pardon?”
“No. I cannot concede any more than that.”
“It’s not a matter of…”
“Fine. Three months.”
It was a truly bizarre negotiation.
“Anyway, get some rest and think about it slowly.”
“Your Majesty. I…”
“Rest is your top priority. I will vacate the room, so be comfortable.”
“Listen to me for a moment…”
“It is long past time for a meal. I will tell them to prepare a table.”
Whether he wanted to hear her answer or not, Eustis cut her off and left the room with brisk steps.
It was a swift behavior unlike him; he usually moved with the languid deliberation of a predator.
“What am I supposed to do if he vacates his own room for me…”
Philomel, inadvertently occupying the Emperor’s room, muttered in bewilderment. He didn’t look angry, so he wouldn’t drag her away right now. But his preposterous proposal bothered her. After talking about the register, he was suddenly pressuring her to stay in the palace.
*Is he serious?*
No. It must be nothing but a few words sparked by a sudden sense of regret.
Philomel tried her best to shake the image of the Emperor’s back out of her head.