SMR | Chapter 139

Chapter 139 

The Secret of Blood and Choice

“What do you mean, Madam? How can I become your daughter?” Roxana exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief.

Trisha smiled faintly. “Why? Do you resent me that much?”

“No, it’s not that,” Roxana said quickly. “It just doesn’t make sense. Miss Harriet is your blood relative — how could I possibly take her place?”

Trisha turned to Harriet with a curious smile. “And what do you think, Harriet?”

Harriet shook her head gently, smiling. “No, Grandaunt. I’ll remain Harriet Listerwell.”

“Miss Harriet!” Roxana protested. “You’re the one who deserves to be her daughter. If you carried the Pellon name, even Lord John Listerwell wouldn’t dare treat you badly again!”

But Harriet’s resolve was firm.

“I’m going to take back my family’s title one day,” she said with quiet conviction. “So I can’t become a Pellon.”

Her voice was calm but full of certainty. She truly meant to reclaim the title of Baron Listerwell. Roxana, seeing that unwavering look, could only fall silent.

Trisha sighed lightly. “That child’s had only one goal since the beginning. Don’t even think of pushing this burden on her, Roxana.”

“Madam…” Roxana whispered, torn.

“I know it’s a heavy responsibility,” Trisha said gently. “And I’m sorry. But I’ve already thought of you as my daughter for years. That’s why I taught you everything about this household.”

“But, Madam,” Roxana said firmly, “noble society runs on bloodlines. I wasn’t even born a noble. How can anyone accept me? Especially when there’s a legitimate relative right here.”

Her reasoning was flawless. Bloodline — that was the foundation of nobility, the very spine of their society.

But Trisha gave a sad smile. “That’s exactly why I can’t leave this family to Lauren’s bloodline.”

She lifted a frail hand and pointed toward the family vault. “Roxy. Open that, and bring me the yellow envelope inside.”

Roxana obediently went to the heavy safe, carefully turning the dials until a faint click sounded. She opened the iron door and pulled out an old, crumpled yellow envelope.

Trisha took it from her and handed one of the aged papers inside to the lawyer.

“You’ve probably seen something like this before,” she said quietly.

The lawyer adjusted his glasses, scanned the paper, and nodded awkwardly. “A diagnosis… infertility.”

“Exactly,” Trisha replied. “It’s a medical report proving that the late Count Lucero Pellon — my father-in-law and Oster’s father — was infertile from his thirties onward.”

The room fell silent. Revealing such a family secret was no small thing, but Trisha only gave a weary smile.

“That means Lauren could never have been his biological child.”

“What?” Harriet gasped. “Then how did she end up in the family registry?”

Trisha pulled out another document. “Because Lucero loved Lauren’s mother deeply. But love doesn’t erase duty — especially for a man of power.”

Roxana took the paper and read it aloud. “An agreement?”

“Yes. It states that in exchange for placing Lauren — another man’s child — in the Pellon family registry and giving her a life of wealth, Lucero would never grant her or her descendants the right to inheritance. It bears the signatures of Lucero, the woman, Oster’s mother Adeline, and a royal notary.”

Trisha took a sip of water from the glass beside her. Nobody spoke for a long while.

“Lucero thought it had fulfilled his duty as a nobleman,” Trisha continued. “But Oster had to watch his biological mother suffer because of that woman — and grow up with a distant father. He couldn’t even hate his innocent little half-sister. So he kept this secret all his life.”

If she and Oster ever had children of their own, the truth might have died with them. Or if Lauren had been less greedy, less cruel.

But after losing all hope of children, Trisha and Oster had decided that bloodline wasn’t everything.

“I even considered naming Jayden as heir once,” Trisha admitted. “I hated Lauren, yes, but Jayden… he’s just a child. I saw him grow up, and I didn’t have the heart to be cruel.”

Her voice hardened. “But not anymore. That boy hides behind his mother and still dares to mock me. No. The time for mercy is over.”

She turned back to Roxana, her eyes steady. “Roxana, you’re Oster’s second cousin once removed from his lineage by blood. You carry the purest Pellon blood left.”

Roxana blinked. “That’s… basically a stranger, Madam.”

“Maybe,” Trisha replied softly, “but you’re the only living blood relative left. This family feels cursed, truly.” She gave a bitter chuckle.

Then she looked directly at Roxana. “I’m sorry, child. You probably thought Oster and I were simply kind benefactors, but the truth is, we took you in because we knew — someday — you might have to inherit this family.”

Roxana’s father’s name was the last on the noble registry. Nobody knew she even existed until she showed up herself. When Oster met her, desperate for an heir, he said something Trisha never forgot:

“Trisha, God has sent us a daughter.”

And over the years, Roxana became their family in every way that mattered.

Trisha smiled fondly. “Even then, I still hesitated. Forgive me for that.”

“Forgive you? I can’t,” Roxana whispered, her voice trembling. “You’ve given me everything — how could I ever presume to forgive you?”

She loved Trisha and Oster deeply — far beyond gratitude. Which was why her heart clenched at what came next.

“But, Madam… I’m already thirty-five. I can’t have children. I’ll be the one to end this bloodline.”

She could adopt, like Trisha had chosen to, but it wouldn’t be the same. That thought weighed heavily on her.

Seeing her distress, Trisha sighed. “If you refuse, then so be it. I suppose I’ll just have to listen to Jayden give a cheerful eulogy at my funeral.”

“A… cheerful eulogy?” Roxana frowned.

“Why not? I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed when I’m gone. Do you think you or Harriet would even be allowed to attend?”

Roxana said nothing.

“Don’t count on it,” Trisha said grimly. “If Jayden becomes acting head while I’m still alive, what do you think will happen to me? He and his mother won’t rest until I’m out of the way — or worse.”

That was when Roxana’s resolve broke.

She could accept being thrown out herself — but not leaving Trisha to such a cruel fate. Lauren and Jayden would surely neglect her… or perhaps something far worse.

No, she couldn’t let that happen.

“I was foolish,” she said at last. “If… if you’ll still have me, I’ll become your daughter.”

Trisha smiled. “Why ask permission for something I’ve already decided?”

“Thank you… Madam.”

Roxana’s usually composed face softened, her voice trembling with emotion.

Trisha gestured for her to come closer and embraced her tightly. “I know it’s a heavy burden. That’s why I hesitated for so long.”

“Madam…”

“I thought you’d figured it out already,” Trisha teased softly. “Why else would I give you the access code to my vault?”

Roxana gave a tearful laugh. “You’re right. I should have realized.”

Harriet wiped at her own eyes. It was a moving, tender moment — the birth of a true bond between them.

But Trisha, ever practical, soon straightened up and turned back to the lawyer and notary.

“Notary, prepare the adoption certificate. Lawyer, submit the application to the Imperial Nobility Office immediately. The authorization letter is ready.”

Because Trisha acted so decisively, the paperwork was filed that very day.

Lauren, who had delayed her own lawsuit for arrogance, lost by a single day.

Just one day — the difference between triumph and ruin.