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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: A Little Contract
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Ugh, I’m not a peanut… Why does he keep calling me a peanut.
“I’m not a peanut.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Okay, Uncle.”
It’s only natural to answer when asked.
I rubbed my bottom and sat up straight.
Then, to show I was listening intently, I folded my hands neatly and looked up at my uncle.
“How much did that old geezer promise you?”
Uncle always calls Grandfather an “old geezer.”
That’s why Grandfather always calls him a scoundrel!
“Huh?”
“I said, how much did he pay you to collude with him?”
My uncle’s face was quite serious.
Mom often made that same face when she was looking over documents late at night.
He looked just like her, except for the short hair.
“Collude? What’s that?”
What was he talking about?
“Did the old geezer not feed you?”
“No. I ate five meals a day. And I had *this* many snacks.”
I made the biggest circle I could with my arms.
“Then did he nag you a lot?”
“Nuh-uh, no. Grandfather said I was the prettiest.”
“Did the servants there look down on you?”
“No…”
The maids even called me a princess.
Of course, my uncle’s servants are all nice to me, too.
I answered calmly, fiddling with my hands.
My uncle let out several deep sighs, as if trying to cool his temper.
“Then what the hell is the problem? You could be living in that nice little bubble, treated like a pampered princess. Why crawl all the way here just to get on my nerves?”
My uncle growled, trying his best to be scary.
That’s not it. That’s not it at all.
It was frustrating that I couldn’t say anything because of the secret promise I’d made with Mom.
“Uncle, am I a bother?”
“What?”
“Do you really, really, really hate me?”
“Hey, who said I hate you?”
He snapped again.
Honestly, he could just say it calmly, but he always had to shout.
Mom said people with short tempers tend to die early, so I was genuinely worried.
And he said he didn’t hate me.
“Then you like me?”
When I asked with sparkling eyes, his face crumpled again.
“Are you crazy?”
“…I think you’re kind of okay, Uncle.”
I mumbled, letting my head drop.
A long moment later, I heard a quiet sigh from above me.
“I’m not your mother. I’ve never had a child, so how could I possibly raise one well? So just go back.”
He said he didn’t hate me, but his tone screamed, *please disappear*.
I lifted my head again and mumbled,
“Uncle.”
“See? You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you? Want me to take you to your grandfather’s? Go on and tell him yourself that you can’t live there.”
My uncle asked eagerly, as if he’d been waiting for this.
I shook my head firmly.
Honestly, how many times did he have to ask? I told him I couldn’t do that.
“Uncle, they say people are creatures of adaptation. Mom said that even if it’s hard at first, people can do anything if they just keep trying.”
My uncle looked dumbfounded.
“Your mother told you that?”
“Yeah. My mom is super smart.”
“Were you born just to sing your mother’s praises?”
“It’s not praise, it’s the truth…”
My uncle muttered something about what kind of thing she had given birth to. It was probably an insult directed at Mom.
He ran a hand through his hair and then sighed deeply again.
I watched him carefully, sneaking a glance at the clock.
He looked tired, so he probably wouldn’t go out today, right?
And I had a feeling nothing like that would happen tomorrow.
“Uncle.”
“What now?”
“I miss Mom.”
“…”
“I miss her every day, but I can’t see her anymore. Grandfather said she can’t come. That’s why I want to see you every day, so can’t I just stay here? I’ll only be a little bit of a bother.”
“Shouldn’t you be saying you won’t be a bother at all, not just a little bit?”
“Then you wouldn’t even let me come near you.”
As if I’d hit a nerve, my uncle glared at me, his eyes wide, and clamped his mouth shut.
The room grew so quiet that the chirping of the birds outside became distinct.
I silently watched my uncle’s expression.
I kept my body tense, ready to grab him if he tried to leave.
After a long while, my uncle finally spoke again.
“Do whatever you want.”
“Huh?”
He messed up his already tousled hair, which he’d been scratching at earlier.
“I said, do whatever you want. Roll around the house, run all over the place. But if you interfere in my business in any way, you’re dead.”
“Really?”
“You don’t believe me?”
I believe people, but I wasn’t so sure about my uncle…
Still, it was a huge relief that he’d given in.
I decided to seal the deal.
Mom had taught me that when you get a chance, you must never let it go.
“In that case… Uncle.”
“What is it now?”
I took out the paper I had tucked safely inside my dress.
“On here.”
I carefully unfolded it, placed it on the bed, and flattened the corners with my palms.
“…”
“Uncle, press your finger here.”
“…”
“Quickly. Hurry up and press it.”
My uncle’s eyes glazed over as if he were in a daze.
Mom always said that promises had to be certain.
And the most certain thing was a document.
She had taught me over and over that spoken words could always be changed, so the more important something was, the more important it was to have a written record.
“Hurry!”
“…”
It wasn’t anything special, really.
I had prepared it by writing neatly, but looking at it now, it seemed a bit crooked.
I thought I had stored it carefully, but it had gotten all wrinkled from me clinging to my uncle.
I should have put it in a pocket.
It was nothing much, just a way to get a promise from my uncle in advance since he seemed likely to change his mind again.
They say a man shouldn’t go back on his word, but my uncle seemed like the type to change his mind ten times over.
I had already pressed my finger on it at Grandfather’s house, so the promise would be sealed once my uncle did the same.
“Uncle, hurry.”
I urged him on, staring at him.
“Hah… You’re Ceria’s daughter, all right.”
My uncle, who had been staring holes into the paper, let out a disbelieving laugh.
“Yup, I’m Mom’s daughter.”
Then, my uncle pressed his large hand down on my head.
He was so strong that I thought my head would hit the bed.
“Ah, don’t do that!”
“You little pipsqueak.”
“I’m not a pipsqueak. I’m Aika.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re so great.”
I struggled to lift my head and look at my uncle.
His hand was so heavy that my head would have slammed into the bed if he’d let up even a little.
I felt like my head was going to be squashed in his huge hand.
“Uncle, so you’re not going out today?”
I looked into his eyes as pitifully as I could.
Just like when Mom told me I could only have two snacks.
It was a very effective technique.
“…I’m not going out.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah.”
I had to get him to confirm it again.
I painstakingly picked up the paper and held it out to him once more.
“Then, Uncle, press your finger here.”
* * *
“I miss Mom.”
“…”
“I miss her every day, but I can’t see her anymore. Grandfather said she can’t come. That’s why I want to see you every day, so can’t I just stay here? I’ll only be a little bit of a bother.”
“Shouldn’t you be saying you won’t be a bother at all, not just a little bit?”
“Then you wouldn’t even let me come near you.”
The little pipsqueak was damn smart.
Cassel was dumbfounded, looking at the crumpled piece of paper with its messy spelling.
She was shoving this in his face, calling it a document.
And she was just a seven-year-old kid, his niece.
She was supposedly seven, but her tiny body made her look five or six.
The sight of her presenting it, her own little thumbprint pressed firmly on it, was beyond ridiculous.
“Uncle, press your finger here.”
“…”
“Quickly. Hurry up and press it.”
Her “press your finger here” meant to leave a thumbprint.
A brat who was still wet behind the ears was already presenting a contract to seal a promise.
The seven-year-old, who had grown her hair out quite long and was wearing a delicate flower headband, had chubby cheeks and incredibly thick eyelashes.
And her mouth never stopped chattering.
Was she a bird or a person?
Just how on earth did his sister raise this child?
She’d been grabbing for gold coins not long after she was born, and now she’d grown up to be a cunning little thing.
