Episode 45

"Mom's former lover."

"Former lover, what?"

"Am I wrong?"

That can't be true.

With his striking appearance, lush red hair, and the nickname 'Lily' he had mistaken me for.

'His face is just Mom's type.'

In truth, she didn't have a specific type.

Mom always admired beauty, regardless of the person.

"Former lover, well, technically that's true, but how did you know...?"

The man, muttering to himself, inquired with a hopeful expression.

"Did Lily mention me or something...!"

"Do you think people like you are rare?"

Mom loves romance.

From my earliest memories until now, Mom never neglected her dating life.

Though her relationships were short-lived.

She fell in love easily and tired of it just as quickly.

As short as 3 days, as long as 300 days.

On average, her romances cycled around 100 days.

Middle-aged men, captivated by her charm, would knock on our door as if it were a quarterly event.

'Maybe I should try a different approach.'

From my 24 years of observation, nothing good ever came from getting involved with Mom's ex-boyfriends.

Grown adults would chase after me to deliver their gifts or letters.

I was constantly harassed by men trying to win Mom's favor on my way to and from school.

They would pester me by asking who was better, them or Mom's new lover.

'How did I come all the way to the capital and still manage to see Mom's ex?'

It was a truly miserable time.

"Are you really, truly Marilyn's daughter?"

His blue eyes trembled slightly.

The man seemed both moved and shocked.

"Did you take our pictures illegally?"

"I guessed it... How old are you?"

"I'll be twenty-five in the spring."

His pupils shook even more violently.

"If that's the case, then maybe... no, but if it's Lily..."

As he counted with his fingers, the man's face grew paler and paler.

"Why would I, no, it might not be..."

"Are you surprised that your first love has a child?"

"...First love?"

"No? Everyone who clung to Mom said that."

"Then... what about your father?"

His previously smooth forehead wrinkled into a mess.

'Is he trying to gather information about his competition?'

A smart move.

He dreams of a romantic reunion with his first love, but it would be a problem if she were married.

I was about to answer out of habit but stopped myself.

'Wait a moment...'

If Mom's spouse's identity was so important, I might be able to leverage this.

"If I tell you, will you get me that thing that 'brings winter in summer'?"

"I'll handle it."

"Handle it right now."

His left eyebrow twitched irritably.

I tilted my head and continued nonchalantly.

"Or just forget about your ex-lover's spouse issue and return to your normal life."

"..."

"I've been through this several times. Your curiosity won't last long anyway. Three or four years at most?"

That was the plain truth.

The person who sent tear-stained letters the longest after breaking up with Mom did so for three and a half years.

"It's not important. Who my mom's husband is, or whose daughter I am..."

"..."

"I guess you might be curious. It might keep you up at night, thinking 'Whose daughter is she?' Or when you wake up in the morning."

"..."

"But just forget about it. It's not that important."

"It's important!"

The voice that burst out was cracked and dry.

The red-haired man bit his lower lip hard and responded.

"I mean, it could be very important to me."

"So will you get me that thing that's sold out?"

"I'll get it! I'll get what you mentioned, no matter what...!"

"Alright. My dad is..."

Gulp.

His large Adam's apple moved slowly. His vivid blue eyes barely moved.

I stretched my lips into a smile.

"I'll tell you after I receive the item."

"You said you'd tell me!"

"I never said I'd tell you right away, did I?"

"Huh... what kind of kid..."

"If I told you right away and you ran off without fulfilling your promise, who would take responsibility?"

"Ha, haha..."

The man covered his face with one hand and muttered quietly.

"How did she know..."

---

A few days later.

"Madam, enjoy your time with the master."

"Goodness, it's just a meal, no need for such fuss every time."

"Good things should be celebrated."

It was less than a year ago the kitchen was constantly replaced for a single meal.

I smiled brightly and escorted the madam to the dining room.

"I'll be off now."

"Alright, Sonnet. See you later."

I had an hour and a half of free time.

Usually, I would also have a late dinner at the servants' dining hall, but today was different.

I quickened my pace and looked around. There were few people near the servants' back entrance.

As I opened the old door, a man leaning against the outer wall lifted his head.

"Right on time."

"Were you just watching the clock this whole time?"

"Time is money for a businessman like me."

His hand, wearing a wristwatch, fell to his side.

Soon, he handed me a neat wooden box.

"Is this..."

"Yes, it's what you asked for. Check it."

As I opened the box, the items I expected were neatly displayed.

"It's real."

When I tried to take the box, the man pulled back.

His eyes crinkled with a sly smile.

"You have to keep your promise first, princess."

"Princess, really..."

But a promise is a promise.

He brought the items, so I had to answer his questions.

I checked if anyone was around, then nodded.

"Ask away."

He was allowed three questions in total.

His bright blue eyes darkened.

"Who's your father?"

"I don't know."

"Starting off uncooperatively, huh?"

"I really don't know. I've never heard about him."

"Hmm?"

"Mom never talked about him. There never was a dad."

If I had known, I would have looked for him long ago when I was a student.

'We definitely need to meet...'

I smacked my lips, recalling the child support I'd given up on.

Seeing the sincerity in my eyes, the man's suspicious expression softened a bit.

"How's Marilyn doing?"

"She's fine. She runs a small general store and is managing to keep it afloat."

She once served as the president of the shopping district association and turned it into a hotbed of romantic entanglements.

'It was doomed from the start with her dating and breaking up with everyone in the district.'

The man seemed quite surprised.

But whatever, there was one last question.

'What will he ask?'

Where does Mom live? Does she have a boyfriend? What does she like? Can I introduce him to her?

Things all of Mom's ex-boyfriends would ask.

But the man's question was completely off from my 24 years of statistics.

"What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Edwell residence is well-known. The work is notoriously tough."

I couldn't understand his intent.

He added, seriously and with apparent regret.

"It's not a particularly promising job. It's not worth wasting your youth on. Why are you going through such hardship without any family to help in a foreign place..."

"..."

"Don't you want to see your dad?"

"I'll be off now."

"Wait—"

He wasn't worth listening to anymore.

I clutched the glossy wooden box and hurried to the examination room.

'Why are you doing this here...'

What...

"Do you have anything stronger?"

"Do you want to ruin your liver to save your stomach?"

As I opened the door, a familiar voice greeted me gently.

"What can I do when my stomach hurts from morning till night?"

"This is already too much."

Inside the clinic, Ute and the aide stood bickering.

"Perfect timing."

"Sonnet!"

"This."

"What's this?"

His brown eyes narrowed.

I opened the box and briefly explained my idea.

"We can't make it snow, but... we might be able to create something similar. If it's not real snow, then if it doesn't work out—"

"This will do!"

Clap.

The sound of applause was cheerful.

"Why didn't I think of that? Romance is ultimately about the mood!"

Ute's cheeks lifted with a pleased expression.

"If we find the right place, it should be perfect."

"I'll take charge of that."

The aide, who volunteered, had red-rimmed eyes.

"Finally, I'm free from that ridiculous digging..."

Plop.

Tears welled up and flowed behind his clear glasses.

He left behind his prescription to look for the perfect setting for the romantic event.

As I was about to leave, a gentle voice stopped me.

"Is something wrong?"

---

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