Chapter 01
“You will raise this child.”
At those words, Seymour Hayworth Somerset, head of the Somerset ducal house, finally looked up from his documents.
Behind his sharp glasses, the man’s forest-green eyes displayed both irritation and disbelief.
It was the exact same expression he had worn about a month ago when someone had made the absurd request that he distribute premium cigars at half price.
Back then, Seymour had immediately flipped the table and smashed an ashtray to pieces.
And truthfully, he looked very much like he wanted to do the same thing now.
Unfortunately, this was not a situation where he could afford such behavior.
So instead of gripping the edge of the table, he rolled his exhausted eyes toward the people seated before him.
One was a stern old lady who looked difficult at first glance.
And beside her sat a tiny little girl no bigger than a chestnut.
What kind of ridiculous combination is this supposed to be?
Had it been anyone else, Seymour would have thrown them out before they even sat down.
If only the old woman seated across from him were not his mother-in-law—the woman who was practically his own mother.
Massaging the space between his brows once, Seymour let out a sigh.
“…I’m not sure I understand what you mean, Mother-in-law.”
“I don’t believe I said anything difficult. Bring this child under the Somerset name.”
“If Somerset looked that lonely to you, perhaps you should have brought home a cat instead.”
At the blatant sarcasm, Mrs. Hayworth’s brow furrowed.
“Every time I see you, your manners grow rougher. Or do you simply think so little of me?”
“Of course not. The world’s just become rather harsh these days.”
“And yet when your mother-in-law summons you, you sit there reading documents in front of her.”
“My apologies. I have an important contract next week.”
“You’re so busy that you don’t even have time to visit Rose’s grave?”
At that moment, the faint smile vanished from Seymour’s lips.
“Why bring up my wife?”
“Can’t I speak about my own daughter? It’s already been over a year since she died.”
“I’m surprised it’s only been a year. Every single day has felt like hell. I thought an eternity had already passed.”
Muttering that, Seymour closed his eyes with a frown.
Even now, he could vividly picture that day—the day he lost his beloved wife, his only brother, and the people he could call family all at once.
“Sir! You need to come quickly! There’s been a carriage accident on the hillside, and the victims are…!”
The carriage involved in the accident had carried Seymour’s older brother, Graham and his wife, along with Seymour’s own wife.
All of them died instantly.
What remained for Seymour was a single boy left behind by the Grahams, and the crushing title of Duke of Somerset—a title that had originally belonged to his brother.
And so Seymour became the Duke of Somerset.
Originally, Graham’s son, Dante Graham, should have inherited the title. But at the time, Dante had been only five years old.
That was already a year ago.
Yet the memories still clung stubbornly enough to make Seymour grimace.
Watching her son-in-law, Mrs. Hayworth’s face softened with concern.
“How long do you intend to keep living like this?”
“…And what exactly have I done now?”
“You think I wouldn’t know? I’ve heard everything. You barely sleep in a bed more than a few times a month, you live on alcohol and cigarettes, and your business workload is enough to kill a man.”
“That’s simply how I do things.”
“A good way to die young.”
“You know as well as I do that I have a duty to protect Somerset. Otherwise—”
“So that you can hand the title over to your nephew without shame. Because the moment you falter, your beloved relatives will pounce on the ducal seat like starving vultures! Do you know how many times I’ve heard that excuse now?”
“…”
He was cut off before he could even offer another defense.
Apparently excuses lost their effect once overused.
Clicking his tongue once, Seymour spoke again.
“But it’s true, isn’t it? Dante isn’t my son. The moment I try to pass the title to my nephew, they’ll attack him over bloodlines.”
Seymour’s bloodline belonged to the Graham family.
But his current surname was Hayworth—the name he had taken when he married into the Hayworth family.
And that was the problem.
Despite no longer bearing the Graham name, he had inherited the Somerset dukedom, which had originally belonged to the Graham family.
As a result, he and the nephew who should inherit after him now belonged to completely different families.
That alone was enough to create trouble.
“If I want to prevent those bloodline disputes before they start, then I need to lay the groundwork in advance.”
Fortunately, this also served as a perfect excuse for Seymour’s workaholic habits.
Even Mrs. Hayworth, who constantly scolded him to take care of himself, would eventually back down whenever he claimed he was doing it all for his nephew.
But strangely enough, today she looked positively delighted by his words.
“You’re absolutely right. You need groundwork. If people start attacking over bloodlines, that would be terrible.”
“Exactly.”
“Then solve the bloodline issue!”
Seymour let out a cold, disbelieving laugh.
“If that were possible, I’d obviously do it. But I can’t adopt Dante into the Hayworth family. He’s the last direct descendant of the Grahams—”
“Who said anything about adopting your nephew?”
Mrs. Hayworth raised one eyebrow sternly.
“Just marry him off!”
“…What?”
Seymour’s expression shifted into stunned disbelief.
“Have this child under your sponsorship. Once she grows up, marry her to your nephew and pass the title to him.”
That way, no one would be able to question the bloodline.
And compared to abruptly handing the title to his nephew, it would look far cleaner politically as well.
“More importantly, you’ll finally have family you’re responsible for again. There’s nothing better than that.”
“That’s ridiculous, Mother-in-law. What kind of—”
“Or else!”
Bang!
Mrs. Hayworth slammed her cane hard against the floor.
“Would you rather I sit here watching you waste away until I collapse from worry? Hm? Will you only stop once I’m dead?”
“N-no… Mother-in-law. Don’t say such things. You should live a long life.”
“Yes, exactly!”
As if sealing a promise, Mrs. Hayworth pointed firmly at the little girl beside her.
“Raise the child. Just until you pass on the title! After that, do whatever you want.”
“…”
“She’s a sweet child. She might even tolerate that rotten personality of yours.”
As though proving her words, the little girl nodded brightly from her seat.
Her neatly tied twin braids bounced up and down with the motion.
Everything about her looked capable and spirited, but to Seymour, the entire situation was utterly absurd.
“…You’re seriously telling me to raise a child for a reason like this?”
“Why not? Didn’t you say yourself that if the bloodline problem could be solved, you’d obviously do it?”
“…That may be true, but where exactly did you even find this child?”
The moment Seymour tried to change the subject, the girl—silent until now—finally spoke.
“I came from Townsend Orphanage. My name is Rowena Whitfield, and I’m ten years old. I told Mrs. Hayworth that I wanted to become the Duke of Somerset’s family.”
“…What?”
Seymour shot back sharply, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
But Rowena merely giggled.
And somehow, that made him feel as though all common sense had stopped functioning.
“Mother-in-law, you brought this child here just because she said that?”
“And why shouldn’t I have?”
“There are far too many reasons! She’s obviously after the family fortune!”
“I don’t need anything.”
Once again, Rowena’s clear voice cut through the room.
“I’m not interested in the Hayworths, or the Grahams, or even Somerset.”
“…Do you even understand what you’re saying?”
“Of course. If you want, we can sign a contract! Saying I’ll never claim any rights to the family or the title.”
Seymour narrowed his eyes.
“Then why exactly do you want to become part of my family?”
“Because I want a family. As you know, I don’t have one.”
Because I’m an orphan.
After saying that, Rowena hopped down from her seat and ran over to Seymour.
Then, wearing the expression of someone making the greatest offer in the world, she announced proudly:
“If you accept me, Duke, I’ll run to the front door to greet you whenever you come home.”
“What kind of—”
“We can eat breakfast together! And if you want, I can even draw heart shapes with sauce on your fried eggs.”
“I’m really good at it,” she added solemnly, as though sharing an important secret.
“And… this is a really big deal, so listen carefully.”
“…What now?”
“I’ll even give you a goodnight kiss before bed.”
“That’s not something I do for just anyone, you know.”
At her added explanation, Seymour stared at the child in utter disbelief.
People said it was difficult to spit in the face of someone smiling at you.
But Seymour was more than capable of doing exactly that.
Yet despite the murderous glare that had reduced countless nobles to silence, the girl only kept smiling.
Proof that no further conversation would matter.
Rowena hopped up beside Seymour, grinned brightly, and clapped her hands together.
“Duke, I think we’re going to become a really wonderful family.”
