Chapter 50
Bentley (1)
He glanced sideways at his father.
Oliver was still wearing his usual gentle smile.
“Oh my, our dear Viscount! It’s been a while!”
“Good day, Viscount! And young master—you’ve grown so much!”
“Haha. I hope you’ve all been well.”
He greeted the occasional elderly servants warmly as they bowed and greeted him in return.
‘Probably not, huh…?’
Bentley smacked his lips in disappointment.
Though he usually preferred sitting quietly to running around, the one thing he did love was playing in water.
Sometimes, the servants would fill up a giant basin, and jumping in and splashing around in it was the best fun he could imagine.
It made him look forward to summer, even though he didn’t like the heat.
Bentley’s eyes were still glued to the fountain.
‘That looks fun.’
It wasn’t like the fountains in the capital plaza—this was the first time he’d seen one privately placed inside a home.
But judging by his father’s demeanor, and remembering that his father wanted him to be “a kind, clever boy perfect for adoption,” running wild in a fountain like a little colt was out of the question.
He watched the fountain longingly for a moment, then turned his head away with exaggerated maturity.
Come to think of it, he was already ten years old. Maybe it was time to move past those kinds of childish games.
He was a big brother now, after all.
And so, Bentley quietly soothed his disappointment.
****
Dressed in a pretty outfit, Bonita walked with Luke to the front entrance.
Through the wide-open doors, a man with black hair—and a young boy who looked very much like him—were entering the estate.
The gentleman stepped inside and removed his hat. Standing tall, he smiled down at Bonita.
“Hello, Bonita.”
Unlike Luke, whose size dwarfed most adult men, the gentleman had a build that was only slightly above average.
His demeanor was very pleasant.
Gentle eyes, a warm, easygoing smile.
His handsome features seemed perfectly suited to winning others’ favor.
And yet, Bonita somehow found him off-putting.
“…Hello.”
“I’m Oliver Delphinium. Feel free to call me Uncle. And this here is my son, Bentley.”
Smiling like a kind man, he gently nudged the boy beside him forward.
“He would be your cousin, Bonita.”
The boy, dressed neatly from head to toe, wore a rather uncomfortable expression. Still, he offered a polite greeting without complaint.
“…Hello, Bonita. And hello to you as well, Your Grace.”
“It’s been a while, Bentley. Not since you were three, right? You’ve grown quite a bit.”
“Thank you.”
Luke offered a casual compliment to his nephew. His expression was much more relaxed than usual.
Before, talking about his nephew had always brought back painful memories of his late wife—and the child they might’ve had together.
But now, he had Bonita.
Luke knelt slightly so he could meet her gaze, trying to ease her lingering awkwardness.
He smiled warmly at his daughter.
“Be good to each other, Bonita. Bentley’s a good boy.”
Bonita nodded, then suddenly realized why she had felt uncomfortable with the man.
Since arriving at the duke’s estate, every adult she met had knelt down to meet her eye-to-eye.
But this man had looked down at her from where he stood tall.
And there was something else that made her uneasy.
‘His eyes are cold.’
His expression was gentle and kind, but the look in his eyes, when they landed on her, occasionally revealed another emotion.
He didn’t seem to like her very much.
Though she didn’t know why.
Bonita turned her gaze to the boy standing next to the man.
The boy called Bentley looked just as uncomfortable as she felt.
He hid it well for a child, but Bonita, who was as observant as she was artistic, could pick up even the slightest change in facial expression.
“…”
Bentley, glancing around, quickly realized he was being watched.
His father’s words echoed in his head.
“Make sure to get on her good side. Try to get close to her. She’s three years younger and probably hasn’t had much proper education, so let her be a little clingy—build trust.”
“Hi.”
He greeted her again with an awkward smile.
“So, um… how old are you?”
“…Seven.”
“Really?”
Bentley sounded surprised.
“I’m ten. We’re three years apart.”
Bonita tilted her head slightly in her mind.
‘Didn’t he already know that?’
It sure seemed like it.
She stared at Bentley a little more intently.
He scrunched his nose slightly.
‘He looks uncomfortable.’
Bonita figured the boy would follow his father and head up to the guest room soon.
Kids their age didn’t usually want to hang around unfamiliar children for long.
But Bentley’s next move completely defied her expectations.
“Bonita, do you want to play together? You have a playroom here too, right?”
He suddenly grabbed her hand and looked up at Luke.
“Your Grace, is it okay if I play with Bonita in the playroom until dinner?”
“Go ahead.”
Luke smiled and nodded.
Bentley beamed and tugged Bonita’s hand.
“His Grace said yes! Bonita, show me around! I want to see how everything’s set up!”
As if to support his son’s enthusiasm, Oliver added cheerfully with a practiced smile,
“I’ll be heading to my room. A maid will come get you at dinner time, so go on and have fun.”
Before Bonita could even react, the two of them were already heading up the stairs.
When she looked back, Luke was smiling and waving happily. He seemed genuinely pleased that his daughter was making a friend.
And Oliver’s black eyes quietly watched Luke from the side.
He thought to himself:
‘This isn’t good.’
She looked even more like her than he had expected.
The first time he saw her, he had been so stunned that he had to stop himself from dropping his hat.
Now he understood why his brother had so quickly accepted the girl as his daughter.
‘It’s like my sister-in-law came back to life… as a child.’
It was a ridiculous thought.
But they looked so alike that even such a wild idea didn’t feel entirely absurd.
‘Luke must be completely taken.’
And from what he could see, the girl seemed healthy, maybe a bit thin, but there were no signs of cognitive issues.
She seemed a little hesitant in personality, but that wasn’t a major flaw. Especially not for the only child born of a legitimate marriage.
He had planned to wait and see… but if things continued like this, his brother would undoubtedly pass down the title to his daughter.
And if Bonita didn’t want it herself, he would just marry her off and hand the title and estate to her husband. Not to an adopted heir.
Oliver clicked his tongue inwardly.
‘This is going to be a hassle…’
****
“Wow, your playroom is amazing!”
Bentley, who had followed the maid to Bonita’s playroom, ran excitedly inside.
Watching the young boy’s thrilled little figure disappear into the room, the maid who had brought them there smiled softly.
She leaned in and whispered to Bonita while gently nudging her forward.
“Have fun, Lady.”
Her voice was full of kindness.
“There are so many games! Bonita, which one’s your favorite?”
Bentley was already peering into the shelves filled with board games.
Bonita quietly observed him.
‘He doesn’t seem that interested.’
Usually, boys his age would pick something up the moment they saw something they wanted to play with.
But Bentley only let out exaggerated sounds of excitement in front of the shelves—never once reaching out or even leaning toward them.
Even his smile seemed awkward. And despite his enthusiastic tone, his face hadn’t flushed with genuine excitement.
‘Am I just imagining it?’
Still, Bonita chose not to jump to conclusions.
Her observations and the conclusions drawn from them were only guesses, after all.
There were countless people in the world, and just as many ways to react. Maybe someone really could act like that and still be excited.
After all, even in the same situation, everyone thinks differently.
“Bonita?”
While she was deep in thought, Bentley called out to her again.
He tilted his head.
“Do you not have a favorite game?”
“No, I do.”
Bonita shook her head.
“It’s just that… I haven’t had the chance to try most of them yet. You know, I haven’t been here for very long.”
“Really? Then wanna try something new?”
“Sure.”
Bonita agreed.
Whatever she played in the evenings with Luke was always fun.
She’d only tried a few games so far, but she was sure the others would be just as interesting.
Bonita glanced again at Bentley.
“…Should I choose?”
Bentley, watching her carefully, asked with a hint of caution. Bonita nodded.
“Hmm… then this one!”
Bentley soon pulled a box from the neatly arranged board games on the shelf.
On the cover was a tiny deserted island with a tree—and lots of cartoon monkeys.
Bentley lifted the box high and plopped down in a chair. After seeing Bonita take the seat across from him, he opened the lid.
Inside were wooden sticks, small monkey figures, and a hollow coconut tree.
Bonita asked,
“Do you know how to play?”
“Yeah! I’ll teach you. You insert the sticks into the tree, drop in the monkeys, and then…”
To summarize: players took turns removing sticks from the tree. The one who let the fewest monkeys fall would win.
They played rock-paper-scissors to decide who went first, and then took turns pulling out the wooden sticks. Every time, monkey figures would fall with a plop.
The game ended quickly.
“Ugh— I lost! Bonita, wanna play again?”
Bentley, who had ended up with a pile of monkey figures, looked close to tears as he asked.
“…”
Bonita, who had accidentally won, rolled one of the monkeys in her hand.
She stayed silent for a moment, then looked up at the boy.
“Bentley.”
“Hm?”
“Why are you pretending you’re having fun?”
The boy’s face stiffened.
