The day of the dawn when you come.

For the first time in ten years, I was stepping on a carpet in the main building.

The legs that I'm used to on the thin carpet of separation seem to sink a lot, even the melancholy feelings sink together.

Still, I couldn't even tell Lucas that I was going to go back away, and I managed to get to the front of the dining room, dragging my heavy body like a stone.

Beyond this door awaits a world that I have been fleeing for ten years.

The first thing I need to confirm is me, about Emilia's real parents, especially her father.

There is one candidate so far. And if this candidate isn't my father, maybe I can be just like an unnamed roadside stone.

"I want to be a stone"

Shellfish is fine, but one way or the other, I'm a chatter.

"Sculpture. I'll do my best."

"No. I don't want you to carve your statue."

I dropped a light fist bone on Lucas' head because I'm not some sort of power guy, nor am I a narcissist.

It makes me kind of sick to think I have to face the Letger family now and talk to the Duke about my birth or what Lucas and I are going to do, or make that cut.

Nevertheless, there are no arms or measures that would allow everything to be resolved in a single dialogue.

In the meantime, I tried to calm myself down by telling myself I wish I could prove I was a decent person to think of something today.

"Yeah, no, I'm gonna throw up"

"Are you going to throw up already to eat now?

As you rub your cold fingertips together, you're wrapped in something warm.

Lucas' round little hand was holding my hand. His palm skin is hard and dry, contrary to expectations.

"I think you can be a little worried about me,"

"I am. Because my father is a very scary man. But I'm sure your father will like Emilia, too. And when I think Emilia gets nervous, I'm thrilled with that new discovery."

"Don't be thrilled. That's a little sick, you."

Lucas seems happy for some reason, even though he doesn't praise it.

Looking at that fuzzy face, I lost so much power that I dropped my shoulder, which was unconsciously rising, disappointingly.

"Well, we have to go..."

Dinner started smoother than I expected.

The so-called birthday seats at the elongated table, which I have only seen in the film, are seated by my adoptive father, the Duke of Letger, the absolute power of this House, and from the Duke's point of view, from the one near the right, the eldest son, Harold, the second son, Michelle, and the third son, Lucas. And on the left was the Duchess, Irza, my sister, to sit in my order. So there's Lucas sitting on my front.

Originally I was supposed to sit between Mrs. and Ilsa in chronological order, but at the end of the day I said no and settled in this chronological order.

I don't like it when people suddenly pinch my sides or something for the first time in ten years. Cry.

Even the brothers and sisters who almost met each other threw such a sharp gaze of surprise that it was a needle.

That's why with a frighteningly quiet rise, I ended up face-to-face with the Letger family over a decade.

The first person to open his mouth was the Duke of Letger.

Throw Harold, the eldest son of the three brothers, a topic that has no touch on how things are going.

I again observed Harold and Michelle in the seat across the street, and the Duke, chewing heartlessly on the unflavored appetizer. I can't guess the previous information from Lucas, so I just have to look at it with my own eyes and feel like a crowd.

Harold is a moderate looking young man and only slightly resembles adult Lucas. If you don't know that the real thing is a front-haired kid, enough to mistake this one for Lucas. For that reason, it also seems to be more objective than its real age.

Michelle, whom I was joking about and calling Miffy, of course, never looked like that big mouth, and he was a shiny eyed boy who seemed to win. He's in good shape and seems happy, but the air is nervous somewhere.

And their father and my adoptive father, the Duke, was a slightly saggy man in his mid-thirties. The area around my jaw is puffy as early as possible, and I can't help but look at my uncle when he says he can't look at me all the time. But he was always alert, staring sharply at us, and when he could stare into his eyes, his heart would tingle.

"How's Michelle? I don't suppose you've been all bad."

The Duke turns his tender father's face from Harold to Miffy.

"No, Father"

"Well, doesn't it matter if it's some bad? I don't think my brother's gonna let me out yet."

"That one!

So somehow Miffy looked at me with a kick.

"Someone's decided to go in and be wise."

It's not just Miffy's. Everyone's gaze was gathering on me.

Ugh, the blood draws me away.

If normal, it might be a place to tremble.

But I've been nervous and bloody for a long time, and there's a strange place for my liver to sit, and that's exactly what happened at this time.

I open my mouth naturally, without cowering.

"You think I made that indulgence?

You didn't think the answer would come back, Miffy turns away and looks regrettable, as she was pressured.

Is he ashamed that he has nearly turned his eyes away, or he caught the edge of his mouth sarcastically to salvage it.

It is quite the same for my child.

"Do you want me to tell you what you're called? She's a witch from afar."

I saw Lucas' cheeks stiff sitting in the front.

I see. Once, they asked me if I was a witch, because I had that name?

I just thought Lucas' brain was just fantastic.

No, but the first time I met him, he said something about a snow fairy, and the brain fantasy was originally there.

"What an honor to be a witch. You mean evil, but not stupid, right?

"You think you're evil about yourself?

"That would be the Aya of the Word."

I didn't feel so bad because I was so aware that I wasn't a good person. Of course I'm not happy.

For a moment. Tension increases to the line critical that develops in the mouth.

Lucas was staring at me.

When I remembered what I was here for, lowering my eyebrows like I wanted you to give me a break, the air on the field only soothes a little.

I felt alone that I was not the right race to get along with people at all, and I just wanted to die a little.

In the murky air, the appetizer is finished and the soup is brought.

My cheeks loosen just a little on a soft light green potage.

Maybe the ingredients are solamame or something. I'm not good at beans, but I like them because they're sweet when they're potage.

Now what do we do from here?

Either way, Miffy knew it was a conflict because she didn't care, but she didn't come here to fight.

It was when I was slowly spinning the soup in my thoughts.

"Suppose your sister is a witch."

Speaking from the side, a spoon struck the plate on a surprised clap and made a hard noise.

"I wonder if Lucas has even been given the teachings of a witch. It's been a long time since I've been away."

I have goosebumps all over the call of your sister. If you're a sister, I still don't feel like getting used to your sister or anything for the rest of my life.

When I looked next door, I had a grin on my sister's cheek, which was still young and floating. I intuit you don't feel comfortable with this kid somehow, even though he never looks mean.

"No way. Instead, I'm having a painting professor"

"No, that's such a tough way to talk to my sister. I've always wanted to talk to your sister."

Is Ilde three or four or less places than I am? Neglected about this world, the aristocratic lady I draw. I almost laughed a little because it's something that talks the way it is.

"I think talking to me is just boring."

"Really? I thought you must be scared."

"I would have clapped it out more normally than I thought."

"No way! I was surprised to hear she was beautiful, but she was like a princess in a picture story. I wish I was as beautiful as your sister."

Ilde laid her eyes down to ask for pity.

I don't even like this look myself, so I find it very difficult to react.

"Beauty won't be the only value"

Harold, who is in front of the diagonal, mechanically carried the spoon to his mouth, whining potpourringly as to whether he was going to take it for granted.

"Right. Even though it would at least be at home. That's why you're so nice to Lucas. Don't you think I'm going to get along with your sister? 'Cause Lucas got away with it. He's a loser."

So finally Ilde showed her mean nature and wrinkled her nose.

Only Miffy is in tune with it, and Harold is frowning uncomfortably. In such an attitude as to leave me out of it, the Duke even saw a verse enjoying our exchange.

When I look at Lucas a little worried about the word "failure" that finally appeared, he faintly snaps his neck when he notices my gaze as well.

I don't look very depressed either, so I kind of felt like I ate a shoulder watermark.

Maybe he's used to being told and just not visibly depressed.

For one thing here, Lucas, a weird sense of justice worked and inspired me to rebel against what I couldn't do.

"I wonder if running away would be such a bad thing. Lucas likes painting, and it's possible that he can eat on the path of painting, so I don't think he can blame me for choosing that path. And I'm not a kid yet."

Ilde seemed upset when I argued so.

And Miffy didn't like what I said again, either, shaking her shoulders like she was upset.

"People in the Letger family are not spoiled because they are children. Even I..."

He grabbed his teeth so hard that he could hear the ringing noise that he scolded Lucas sideways.

Speaking of which, was Miffy an old boy with Lucas?

And Lucas was already going to the same level as his oldest brother a year ago, and now he's skipping.

I regret not being able to beat one different brother from Miffy, who seems like a winner, and maybe it means he can't forgive the guy who can skip.

I thought he was a fucking kid of shit, but I felt sorry for him just a little bit when I thought so.

"Michelle, your sister doesn't know anything about your house. With me, huh?

"... it's not like I know anything."

I feel kind of ridiculed by the distance, and when I squeal like that, Ilde flips his jaw with hum like it doesn't seem funny.

"Then will you explain it to me so I can see it too?

The feeling that we didn't seem to be able to get along first didn't seem wrong.

I think you look cute when you blush, but I don't feel comfortable with the contents.

Or...

"You're a quality person who can't be relieved without a person below you."

"Nah..."

It must have been a picture star.

And Ilde trembled, bewildered.

I feel a little overwhelmed by my younger opponents, but right now, I'm also a teenage girl, and I don't have the energy to be charmed by people I don't seem to be able to make friends with.

Well, I know what it's like to look down there and feel safe.

Plus, fifteen or so, that would be the most hurtful and profound time of year. I used to be pretty rough too.

Then why shouldn't you have been nice? I thought so, but both Miffy and Ilde are the ones bullying my pretty Lucas, so you can give them back some meanness! and decided to defend himself.

Because I'm like a witch, they say.

"I'm not good at each one of them, so I think it's better mentally to look for something that's right for you than to laugh and feel safe about people's faults"

"I don't want to be told anyway by the one who hasn't tried anything with a pull!

You touched the upside down scale, and Miffy slapped her fist on the table and yelled.

As I frowned that I would have said something so disrespectful that I was so angry, I could see Lucas shifting the position of Miffy's glass in a subtle move at the edge of my sight.

I wonder what you're doing there.

"I'm not trying to give you anything else. But you'd be free to say what I thought, wouldn't you?

"Speaking of which, you're one of these women!

Wow, the younger one called me a woman. I'm a little shocked.

But I have a bad personality, so I try to get angry with him.

Miffy yelled and thirsty, trying to get the water without even looking at me with a glare on her hands.

But Lucas was out of position earlier, so his hand paid off instead of grabbing the glass.

The glass of corn collapses and the water is smashed.

Seeing the stain twitching and spreading across the blue tablecloth, Miffy raised her voice a little lower.

The field quiets down exactly as it was watered down.

Everyone couldn't move and watched the maid wipe the spilled water.

In such white air, I hear a modest low laugh and I turn my face a little to the source of my voice.

"You brought in a wave once a month for a family dinner, Emilia. I thought I'd gone quiet because it's something I don't really hear rumors about, but I don't know if he's alive."

The Duke draws a beautiful circle when he spoons it in the air in bad demeanor.

"Sophie, take Michelle and Ilde down once. I want to talk to the rest of you."

"Why not, Father!

"Michelle, I'm telling you to back off. It's a heavy story for you."

Miffy rose ramblingly, distorting her face as she despaired of the Duke's words. The chair makes a flashy noise with the gutter.

He peeled off the napkin he was wearing around his neck and threw it at Lucas next door.

The napkin-throwed Lucas put it on his head with no expression on his face. He had taken it away, carefully folded it and handed it to the maid. The idea comes to mind that it is an exchange that has been repeated over and over again in the way that I am used to it.

Miffy was followed by indications that Ilde and Lady would rise.

"You're your father's tool, anyway."

Whispered so as he left, and Ilde, along with his wife, also left the dining room.

And on the table were the Duke and Harold, Lucas, and my four.

"Those two are never bad kids. It's a bit of a time."

While sheltering the two of them, the Duke turned his eyes to me to blame for a moment.

I get a little fed up with that attitude like an outgoing father.

"But thanks to you, I knew what kind of girl you had grown up to be. That was pretty funny."

"... thank you?

"Ha, be honest. Let's get down to business."

The Duke elbowed himself to the table, dressed just a little rough, and let him wink with affection.

"So what have you come to do, princess?

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