Episode 72

“What are you asking me to be?”

“My daughter.”

“…”

“Be my daughter. As in father and daughter.”

His finger shamelessly pointed between himself and me.

'No way.'

Did he really think I was his daughter too?

I stared into the man’s blue eyes. His relaxed, slyly curved gaze exuded ease.

Rezit Dahl. The second candidate that could be my ‘father,’ according to Mother.

A merchant who never lost in a deal was now proposing that I become his daughter.

'What is he scheming?'

“No matter how generously I try to think of it, it’s just too suspicious.”

Arms folded, I examined the man top to bottom. In response, he raised both palms in a gesture of harmlessness.

“Oh come on, no need to look at me like that. You’d think I was out to eat someone alive.”

“Wouldn’t you react the same if some random girl you’d never met suddenly asked you to be her father?”

“Well, yes, but… you're not just some random girl.”

“Then what am I?”

“You are—”

His lips curved into a neat smile and parted slightly.

With a confident step, his brown shoes drew closer to me.

“My precious guest.”

“…”

“Once a guest, always a guest. Trust is the most important matter in a transaction like this.”

“And?”

“I’d like to believe that at least a sliver of trust has formed between us.”

'What is this man even saying?'

Still, I was the one with more to lose by walking away.

'Let’s see how far this goes.'

If this conversation veered toward some cult recruitment, I’d knee him in the shins and run for it.

“Our last dealing was nice, wasn't it? You gave me what I needed, and I returned the same."

“Likewise. Everything concluded seamlessly."

“Concluded? That was only the beginning.”

“…”

“We proved that we’re both honest enough not to swindle each other.”

“So now you’re saying we should become a father and daughter? Isn’t that a bit too radical?”

“Come on, you don’t think I mean it literally, do you?”

“Then what exactly?”

“It’s all for business. Think of it as a temporary roleplay.”

Despite the greasy smile, his tone was rather plain.

“Roleplay?”

“For appearances. I introduce you as my daughter in front of people. Didn’t you ever act in school plays?”

“I don’t get involved in shady business.”

“Shady? The real issue is that everything will be clean-cut and wholesome."

“…”

“I’m serious. You know word-of-mouth is everything in this line of work.”

“Right…”

“To expand into a new market, the first thing you need is rapport with the locals.”

Here was the gist.

The village where he wanted to expand this business was full of families with children.

To build intimacy in such a place, you need a shared topic—children.

He gently furrowed his brow.

“One day. Just one day. Be my daughter for a day, and I’ll give you the information you’re after.”

“…”

“You know better than anyone how valuable that information is.”

I knew.

If I stayed stuck here, the whole plan I’d carefully crafted would unravel.

Beyond the glass door, I saw the patisserie clerk’s polished smile.

A calculating face, trained to measure and evaluate instinctively—no different from the man before me.

“What exactly do I have to do?”

---

“You’re heading out early.”

Just as I quietly slipped through the back door, a soft voice called out.

Ute stood facing me, pressing his brow with his knuckles. His eyes were a little red—likely from a restless night.

“Are you here to accompany me?”

“No, I just thought to see you off.”

“You stayed up late last night helping the lady study. You must be tired.”

Trying to stuff a head as empty as that with enough knowledge to graduate wasn’t easy.

Yet Ute took on that tiresome task without complaint.

“I can’t sleep well anyway. Here, take this.”

“What is this…?”

A neatly packaged pouch of white powder.

For a moment, I guessed the contents to be either salt, sugar, or flour, but it was far from any of those.

'Knock-out powder.'

The kind used to sprinkle by the door when forging seals in secret.

Ute folded the powder into my palm and said firmly:

“If anything happens, scatter this toward the nose and mouth—and run.”

“Got it.”

He reminded me several times more about how to respond in a crisis before finally waving goodbye.

Outside the narrow door, an unmarked carriage was waiting.

A gloved hand extended through the half-open door.

Ignoring the gentlemanly gesture, I climbed into the carriage.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be in your care.”

“Tsk, tsk, you can’t talk so stiffly. Come on, call me ‘Dad’ with a bit more warmth.”

“We’re not there yet.”

“Immersion is everything, you know. From now on, you’re my daughter.”

'Unbelievable…'

But not entirely wrong.

I pressed my interlocked hands against my chest and raised my voice theatrically.

“Daddy! It’s so good to see you again!”

“…”

“I can’t believe we’re alone together like this. It’s not a dream, is it?”

Flutter, flutter.

As I blinked up at him, imagining the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, his smirking expression stiffened with discomfort.

“…I didn’t ask you to overact.”

“What did you expect, Daddy?”

From the outside, the carriage looked ordinary, but the inside was surprisingly pleasant.

Leaning comfortably against the seat, I stared out the window.

I hoped for a quiet ride, but Candidate No. 2 had no intention of granting that wish.

“Must’ve been tough getting up so early.”

“I always rise early. I’m fine.”

“Well, the diligent cicada always finds the best spot. What did you tell the estate?”

“…Vacation.”

In truth, it was logged as ‘an outing on the lady’s orders.’

But there was no need to explain every little detail.

“So you left Edwell, and now you’re at that scoundrel’s manor.”

His now fully exposed forehead furrowed vertically.

“My daughter keeps hopping between these wretched households—it breaks her father’s heart.”

“…”

“Is it that hard to find work these days?”

“…”

“You know what kind of temperament that marquess’ daughter has. Are you indebted to her or something?”

Why did this man always care so much about where I worked?

I figured he’d shut up if I stayed quiet, but his unsolicited advice went on and on.

“—You understand, right? If you undervalue yourself, you'll be the one to lose."

“…”

“You need to exist in a place where your worth can shine—ah, we’re here.”

Just as the man closed his mouth, I let out a breath of relief.

Unaware that this was merely the prologue.

“Where are we…?”

“Come on, don’t tell me this is your first time shopping for clothes?”

“Of course not. I meant—”

“Save it, save it. Let’s go inside first.”

This wasn’t part of the plan…

But my protest was pointless. The man threw open the shop door without hesitation.

“We’re looking for something for my daughter to wear.”

“Oh my, then you’ve come to the perfect place.”

“Why clothes—”

“Shh. Go with the clerk and try these on, sweetie.”

Damn it.

With others around, I couldn’t exactly protest with a “What do you think you’re doing, mister?”

So I followed him with a fake smile and changed into the clothes the clerk handed me.

“Your daughter wears clothes so well—she must take after you.”

“Haha, is that so?”

“Yes, her limbs are long and elegant. Light colors suit her beautifully.”

“Hmm… skirts or pants, both look great on our girl. Mind giving us a spin?”

'What are we even doing?'

But despite my thoughts, my feet twirled like a top.

“Like this, Daddy?”

“No wonder she’s my daughter—she looks perfect. We’ll take this one.”

By the time we left, I was transformed from head to toe.

And the man’s antics didn’t stop there.

“Any food allergies?”

“None. But where exactly are we going—”

“Perfect. I know a favorite spot just nearby.”

The restaurant, a regular haunt of his, had menu prices far beyond anything my salary could afford.

Candidate No. 2 didn’t even glance at the menu before ordering.

“Eat up, my daughter. You need fuel to grow.”

“I’m not exactly at growing age…”

“You’ll always be a baby in your daddy’s eyes.”

'What on earth is this man trying to pull?'

Still, the food before me was blameless. So I ate everything.

Right.

New clothes, delicious food—under normal circumstances, I’d be happy.

If it weren’t for the prearranged plan.

“What are you trying to pull here?”

The skirt brushing against my calves felt soft.

The carriage was once again in motion.

“This isn’t what we agreed on.”

“You can’t work on an empty stomach.”

“…”

“And you need the right attire for the job.”

The carriage, which had been speeding forward, came to a stop. Glancing outside, the man jumped down with ease.

“Come along, daughter.”

A long, gloved hand.

A bustling scene behind him.

With a sly tilt of the head, the shrewd merchant drawled:

“What? You thought I’d sell off my one and only daughter?”

---

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