Mistaken for a Wicked Woman! - Chapitre 3

Qu'est-ce que c'est? The door flung open the instant I turned my head to the incoming sound of footsteps.

Boom-!

« …?!"

Oh mon, I thought it was a wild boar.

Surpris par le bruit fort, I jumped to my feet and saw a white-haired old man with a stiff face standing steadfast. Contrary to his white hair, he had a robust figure, which made it hard to tell his age.

Il a froncé les sourcils dès qu'il m'a vu, then his face wrinkled as if he had aged beyond his years.

"Tu…"

Qui? I gulped at my misfortune while looking at him approaching me. Every step he took shook the marble floor. It’s as if a polar bear was approaching.

Is this the grandfather?

I easily guessed the man’s identity. From up close, although his body is haggard, his face is similar to my self-proclaimed father.

“Hello…are you…?"

Pour le moment, I wanted to greet him, so I awkwardly spoke. But the old man, who is supposed to be my grandfather, glared at me and laughed. Puis, in a hoarse voice as if a beast was growling, il a parlé.

“…Disgracing the family’s name and running away with your tail behind your legs only to come back.”

Mince. Je ne suis même plus surpris.

De son ton, I guess he hasn’t heard about me yet. Perhaps he came as soon as he heard Lady Bright had come back.

“I didn’t come back because I never left in the first place.”

Naturellement, it’s only fair for me to tread on those who come looking for a fight, but due to my respect for the elderly, I corrected him instead. pourtant, I couldn’t help but be blunt. De mon point de vue, I was caught in another person’s problem.

“You still have the habit of talking back.”

C'est la première fois que je te rencontre.

Non, maybe we’ve met when I was a baby. De toute façon, je ne me souviens pas, so let’s say this is the first time.

Seeing him who appears to be my grandfather wriggling his thick eyebrows, I calmly spoke.

“I think you misunderstood, Je suis…"

"Mal compris, what misunderstood!"

Wow, your voice is really loud. My ears almost fell off. The old man’s beastly shout resounded in the drawing room.

“Do it quietly if you’re going to come back! I heard you caused a commotion in the streets and were dragged away by the guards again!"

Encore? Looks like Lady Bright has the habit of getting caught by the guards. Now I understand their blunt attitudes.

“How long are you going to continue getting in trouble!"

"Calmer."

He’ll faint from his blood pressure increasing at this rate. Je lui ai parlé calmement, who could be seen panting. My intention was to calm him down a bit because I don’t think we’ll be able to communicate at all in his current condition. But it had the reverse effect. He became angrier.

“How dare you talk back to me?! The prestige of our family has hit rock bottom because of you!"

“Prestige or whatever, cela n'a rien à voir avec moi.

What did he eat this morning? How can his voice be so loud?

I tried to be polite, but he misunderstood me. Now I don’t know anymore. I’m no saint, but even I wouldn’t abruptly shout at a person on first sight.

“What do you mean it has nothing to do with you?! Tu…"

“I’m not Lady Bright.”

"Quoi?"

“I’m saying I’m not Lady Bright.”

I might turn out to be the young miss of this house later, but right now I’m Iris Sabrina.

My words were clear, but he seemed to have taken it differently. He burst out laughing with a speechless expression.

“Not Lady Bright?"

"Oui. I’m Sabrina…”

"Maintenant tu l'as fait. Now you deny your family?!"

Please let me finish! I think the people in the capital have a habit of not listening to others. They just hear what they want to hear. Il n'y a pas d'autre explication.

“You…How dare you say such a thing…!"

Killing intent? I felt chills down my spine when his face suddenly flushed red and he shouted. Assez sur, within those green eyes, I felt his sharp gaze all the way from here.

"Il a!"

Don’t tell me he’s serious? It was so absurd that I gave a dry laugh.

Killing intent is a technique used to subdue an enemy without drawing your weapon. Dans une certaine mesure, an ordinary person unaware of it will not be able to endure the killing intent of someone stronger.

If it was the real Lady Bright, her legs would have given out. Comment une bonne ose-t-elle tenir la robe de son maître. This level of killing intent is nothing to me.

C'est ça, stinky old man. Grandfather or whatever, you’re my enemy now.

Oeil pour oeil, une dent pour une dent, and a sword for a sword.

Instead of backing down, I released my own killing intent.

"Hmm?"

He was taken aback when I released my killing intent instead of collapsing to the floor. His expression turned to shock when he noticed that not only did I endure his killing intent, but I was able to counterattack.

“T-that was?"

"Père!!"

The moment the old man let his guard down, an urgent voice came from behind him. It sounded like a mischievous child running up and down. It was my self-proclaimed father. He ran into the drawing room and stood in front of me.

"Qu'est ce que tu crois faire?!"

My self-proclaimed father spread his arms out as if to protect me. The old man frowned at his behavior.

"Écartez vous. I want to talk to her…”

"Père, Allez-y doucement! She’s Iris, not Arche!"

Yelled my self-proclaimed father.

"…Quoi?"

The old man blinked as if he had heard something unbelievable.

"Que veux-tu dire?"

Having calmed down, he asked with an expressionless face.

“Arche hasn’t come back, it was Iris who came to the capital. Père, this is Iris.”

"Iris?"

At my self-proclaimed father’s words, the old man looked at me puzzlingly. The green pupils which were filled with killing intent earlier shook.

« Ce gamin?"

Oui, you should’ve listened to me earlier. I grinned at the old man standing as stiff as a statue.

“Nice to meet you for the first time. I’m Iris Sabrina.”

Realizing his mistake, he let out a cough. As I watched his face turn from red to white as a sheet, I gave an honest bow according to etiquette.

“I think there was a mixup. I’m Lady Sabrina, not your Lady Bright.”

Tu comprends maintenant, stinky old man?

“I’m really sorry.”

With a wretched face, my self-proclaimed father bowed like a defeated dog. The stinky old man didn’t know what to make of the situation once he learned that I was Iris, so my self-proclaimed father told him to leave. Sitting face to face drinking tea that the steward had brought, the two of us were finally left alone in the drawing room.

"Père, so grandfather has a fiery temper…”

"Je ressens la même chose."

Sipping the tea and nodding his head, my self-proclaimed father spoke with a troubled voice.

“He’s roamed the battlefield all his life, so he speaks with his body before anything else.”

“That’s none of my concern.”

As I spoke coldly and laid down the cup on the table, my self-proclaimed father’s head sank. pourtant, I didn’t feel like comforting him. Especially considering that I didn’t even know I had a father just a few hours ago.

Looking at it from a common sense point of view, if a stranger approaches you and says, ‘I’m your father!’ the first thing in your mind would not be ‘Ah, bien sûr!'

Plutôt, you would suspect he was a swindler, but so far there’s no reason to believe that was the case here. Par dessus tout, I was mistaken for someone else as soon as I arrived in the capital and had to go through all sorts of trouble.

“I’d like to talk about the story behind my mother now.”

"Ah, Oui. Where should I begin, "Qu'est ce que tu regardes, you really don’t remember anything?"

"Rien."

A ma réponse, deep disappointment in my self-proclaimed father’s face could be seen. Looking at his sullen face, pour certaines raisons, I felt a little sorry even though it couldn’t be helped.

“I don’t remember much of my childhood.”

How many people in the world could say they remember their childhood clearly? Non seulement que, I have very few memories of my childhood.

‘Young miss, you hit your head on a rock while playing in the valley and was badly injured when you were eight years old. Since then…Well, this sort of thing is called memory lost.’

My steward said the reason why I can’t remember anything before I was eight is because of the head injury. En réalité, there is a small scar on my forehead. Perhaps that’s why everything is hazy if I try to recall memories from a long time ago.

Au cas où, I quickly tried to remember, but nothing came to my mind.

“Well…it’s not something you would remember since Wendy ran away from home after leaving the divorce papers when you were two.”

My self-proclaimed father froze with a bitter expression. For a moment he thought over his words, then he cautiously began the story.

"Ta mère, Wendy, was like a dream. We met on the battlefield. I was an advisor to your grandfather, Duke Bright…At the time, Wendy, who is Viscount Sabrina’s daughter, was working as a mercenary in secret.”

"Ah."

Sans le savoir, his words made me recall the past. I had learned from the steward and nanny that my mother wandered the continent working as a mercenary when she was young. C'était pareil maintenant. Ma mère, who likes to roam, is not attached to the estate at all.

“Wendy was really strong. She was such a great swordsman that your grandmother, who was more demanding than anyone else when it comes to swordsmanship, had to admit it. And I fell in love with her at first sight.”

Rappelant le passé, my self-proclaimed father’s expression dimmed.

“Like a miracle, Wendy accepted my earnest courtship. pourtant, my father opposed it.”

"Pourquoi?"

“He wanted Wendy to be a General instead of a housewife.”