Chapter 3
Father?
At Bianca’s apology, Garen immediately flared up.
“Mother!”
Bianca ignored her son’s outburst and continued speaking.
“But don’t worry. You’re my granddaughter! I can tell just by looking. Want to hear a secret? Grandma fell in love with you the moment she saw you.”
She whispered the kindest, most precious words she could offer, determined to leave no wound in the heart of the beautiful little child.
Zenith, who had expected to be scolded or even hit, stared at her in a daze, as if enchanted.
For some reason, something surged in her chest. She didn’t know why—but she felt like crying.
Was it because this kindness came after such deep loneliness?
The memory of her late adoptive parents surfaced, making Bianca’s warmth feel painfully bittersweet.
Tears welled in Zenith’s eyes.
“My poor child!”
Bianca pulled her into her arms and soothed her. The sound of the child sniffing echoed through the reception room.
To anyone watching, they looked like the most affectionate grandmother and granddaughter in the world. Garen scoffed.
“Mother, this is wrong. Why are you forcing this? Do you want to turn your twenty-five-year-old son into an unwed father? Who told you this nonsense?”
“What’s wrong with being twenty-five? Are you planning to marry even when you’re forty-five or fifty-five? You’re the type who’ll never give me a grandchild.”
“Mother!”
“I’m not deaf. You don’t have to shout. And I’m not wrong either.”
Bianca waved her hand dismissively, as if swatting away a fly. Garen gritted his teeth.
She looked at her son with disdain and continued.
“You say you don’t remember it, but your memory isn’t even intact to begin with. Nothing is certain in life. There’s always a ‘what if.’”
“It’s only one year of missing memory! What could have happened in just one year? And you know this—I can’t even touch women! My body rejects them! So how could I possibly have a child?! Are you seriously suggesting I miraculously recovered from my condition during that gap and somehow made a child? That’s absurd!”
Garen laid out, in a calm and logical tone, why Zenith could not possibly be his daughter.
Zenith paused.
She remembered him shouting earlier about breaking out in hives just from looking at women.
“…That wasn’t just an excuse to avoid responsibility?”
She looked at him with new curiosity.
“…So he really wasn’t just trash.”
From Bianca’s reaction, it seemed the period of his missing memory overlapped with the time Zenith had been in her mother’s womb.
The problem was that Garen was incapable of being close to women. If his “rejection reaction” was real, it was likely psychological trauma manifesting physically.
Zenith felt her worldview wobble. She had already compared him to her reincarnated-world father, Min Kyung-tae, and was ready to curse him—but now the situation felt slightly more complicated.
And at twenty-five… he wasn’t even much older than her past self. A man who had just graduated university suddenly being told he had a seven-year-old daughter… anyone would be angry.
“…Yeah. I’d be mad too.”
Zenith nodded slightly.
She still had no intention of forgiving him for insulting her parents. She would rather beg on the streets than live under him.
But at the same time…
“…Then is he really not my father? If not him, then who is?”
While she was lost in thought—
“Garen, you foolish brat! What have you done now?!”
The door burst open again with a booming voice.
A massive man, built entirely of muscle from head to toe, stormed in. His white hair mixed with black strands, and he bore a strong resemblance to Garen.
He was likely Bianca’s husband—
“I’ve suffered so much, little nightingale! I shall properly discipline this unfilial son of mine! To think I only have one child, and he turned out like this…”
“A-actually, dear!”
Zenith froze.
“Night… nightingale?”
She doubted her own ears.
But what shocked her even more was the scene that followed.
The elegant, noble Bianca lightly tapped the man’s shoulder with a fist, and the intimidating man instantly broke into a silly grin.
Sweet words like sugar and honey flew everywhere. Zenith felt goosebumps rise all over her body.
As she was processing this cultural shock—
The man suddenly turned his gaze toward her.
Despite acting like a lovestruck fool earlier, his appearance was terrifying enough to make anyone flinch. A scar ran across his face from his forehead down past his eye and cheek.
He walked straight up to Zenith.
‘Is the second round starting?’
Zenith instinctively braced herself, lowering her head like a pilgrim preparing for judgment.
Then the man spoke.
“Do you know who I am?”
“….”
The question was impossibly difficult.
If he was Garen’s father, then he would be her grandfather—but Garen himself was denying he had a father at all.
Zenith’s thoughts tangled.
‘Don’t tell me…’
The couple seemed extremely affectionate. But she had also heard that cheaters often act like devoted lovers at home.
Her past-life father, Min Kyung-tae, had also pretended to be a good husband and father at home.
Zenith’s eyes darkened with disgust.
The man spoke again.
“You seem to have figured something out. Tell me then. Who am I?”
“….”
Zenith clenched her teeth.
She didn’t want to say something like that to a scary-looking man…
But everyone was waiting for her answer—including Garen.
She had no choice.
She first bowed slightly toward Bianca in apology, then spoke her guess.
“…Father?”
Silence filled the room.
Even the man—presumably the retired general—froze.
“Pfft!”
Bianca suddenly burst into laughter.
Zenith looked at her nervously, worried she might have been shocked into madness.
“…Is he really your father?”
Garen asked in a trembling voice.
At that moment, the old general’s voice thundered.
“You damned brat!”
Smack!
He struck Garen on the back of the head.
“Father!”
Garen snapped back, only to be hit again.
Zenith watched, feeling a strange satisfaction despite understanding the situation.
Then Bianca approached and gently picked her up.
“My dear, you were confused, weren’t you? That foolish boy keeps saying you’re not his daughter. I’m sorry. But you are his child. And you are my granddaughter.”
Zenith looked up at her in shock.
Bianca smiled warmly.
“Are you hungry? Do you like pie? Apple pie. Your grandfather baked it this morning.”
“…That scary, violent-looking man baked apple pie? And I really am your granddaughter?”
“Of course. You are my granddaughter. And your grandfather’s hobby is baking. Because I like pie, he bakes it every morning.”
Bianca winked.
Zenith couldn’t believe that a man who looked like he could wrestle a bear for fun had baking as a hobby.
But how are you so sure I’m your granddaughter?
As if reading her thoughts, Bianca extended her hand.
“Come now. We’ll explain everything later. First, let’s go eat. We should step aside so he can beat that boy properly. He really needs it.”
There was something almost murderous in her tone at the end… but surely that was just Zenith’s imagination.
Probably.
Mesmerized, Zenith took her hand.
“Good choice, my little lark.”
“…I’m not a lark, I’m Zenith…”
“Zenith is a lark, and a lark is Zenith. Do you like lily of the valley? You look like one.”
A bad feeling crept in.
If she said yes, she would probably become “Lily of the Valley” next.
Zenith quickly shook her head.
“No! Absolutely not!”
“…What a shame. The lily of the valley blooms beautifully in the greenhouse.”
“I-I want apple pie! I’m hungry!”
She hurried her steps before Bianca could invent another strange nickname.
Behind them, the sounds of fists clashing echoed through the room.
Bianca hummed softly and closed the door behind her.
