Chapter 85: The "Devoted Daughter" Charging at "Father"

There was no mistake.

The one sitting there playing was not Sally, but Luna.

Lynette would never mistake her, just as she had recognized that the Phantom Thief White Cat was Luna.

No matter what form or appearance Luna took, she would always notice, always recognize her.

Perhaps she didn't understand Luna completely.

But she could always identify her.

However, what was she doing? Disguising herself as someone else to perform? She had no need to do that.

...Incomprehensible.

Lynette's ears drooped.

Truly, incomprehensible.

Lyney noticed his sister's reaction and immediately understood everything. He glanced at Arlecchino, only to receive a gentle:

"Shh." Arlecchino raised a finger to her lips.

Listening quietly to the child's performance—

That was the most important thing to do.

However, this music… Arlecchino closed her eyes. The melody was beautiful and moving, but what stirred her most were—memories of the past.

Many years ago.

"'Father,' this time, we didn't lose a single one."

The young Lyney had a trace of exhaustion on his face, but even more, there was relief and satisfaction.

The House of the Hearth was not a place where one could live a peaceful childhood.

But its members were all orphans, coming from all corners of the world, with no family to call their own.

Without the House of the Hearth, they might have perished on a cold winter morning, or collapsed inside some noble's home, becoming mere caged creatures.

The House of the Hearth gave them a new life.

The price, however, was that they would walk alongside danger.

Every mission could result in losses—whether by gunfire, by drowning in rushing waters during an escape—

Or by succumbing to grievous wounds in the quiet corners of their home.

It was cruel, but for them, such cruelty was necessary.

Not a single child believed that a happy life would simply fall from the sky, nor did they think they could enjoy the warmth of the hearth without doing anything.

After all, those who allowed them such luxury were often the same ones who would devour them down to the bone.

Arlecchino, ever stern, merely nodded slightly at Lyney's report.

"Well done."

But she was never stingy with praise.

"But… Luna was injured..."

"She fought?"

"Mhm. She caught an enemy's weapon with her hand. She was wearing armor, but still got hurt." Lyney gritted his teeth, feeling frustrated—it was his responsibility as the captain to ensure his teammates didn't get hurt.

Luna was the strongest among them, the most exceptional.

Swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship—she never fell behind, even against trained adults.

But she would sometimes act recklessly.

"Was fighting necessary at the time?" Arlecchino asked again.

Lyney hesitated. "It was, but..."

No need to say more. She understood everything now.

Luna must have wanted to take down every last enemy—she got too caught up in it.

"...Where is she now?"

"I don't know."

Arlecchino responded indifferently, "I see," then walked through the manor.

Suddenly, the sound of a harpsichord trickled from a half-closed door.

The notes were broken, discordant, unbearably clumsy.

Arlecchino, thoughtful, pushed the door open.

As expected, the sight that greeted her was a startled Luna.

"Arle... 'Father.'"

Luna seemed reluctant to call her "Father," yet hesitant to address her by name. Arlecchino didn't mind.

She glanced at the harpsichord in front of Luna. "Playing?"

"Mhm."

Luna tried to hide her bandaged hand, but Arlecchino noticed.

"...You performed well this time. What reward do you want?"

Luna, at this age, had already begun to show signs of the young woman she would become. Though traces of childish roundness still remained, she was already a blossoming girl.

Girls her age often wanted jewelry, fine clothes, or cosmetics.

But after a moment's thought, Luna hesitated and asked:

"Do you have time?"

"I do."

Luna's eyes lit up. "Then… can you teach me to play?"

Arlecchino was not surprised by Luna's request.

From the night she had first taken Luna into the House of the Hearth, Luna had always been like this.

Arlecchino gazed at her, a nostalgic face flashing through her mind. She stepped over to the harpsichord, pressing a key lightly.

"That's all?"

"Yes!"

Arlecchino gave a slight nod. Rewarding children who performed well was necessary.

Likewise, punishing those who did poorly was just as necessary.

She gently took Luna's arm. "Does it hurt?"

Luna blinked. "No."

Usually, children would already realize they had done something wrong and show unease or fear. But Luna was different.

She looked into Arlecchino's eyes without a hint of fear.

It wasn't defiance—she simply never feared Arlecchino.

Arlecchino pressed down on Luna's wound. Heat and pain surged instantly, and Luna's expression wavered.

"Does it hurt now?"

"A little."

Arlecchino applied more pressure. "And now?"

"It really hurts."

"That's right. It hurts. But if your hand is severed, pain won't be the only thing you experience."

"You are exceptional, Luna. In both appearance and ability."

Even though she could not become the "king," her brilliance was undeniable.

"Precisely because of this, you must learn to make full use of your power."

"This wound... it wasn't worth it for you."

Blood seeped through, staining the bandages red.

Arlecchino released her grip, took out a bottle of medicine, unwrapped Luna's bandages, applied the ointment to her wound, and then rewrapped them.

Luna lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"As long as you remember."

Arlecchino lifted the hem of her coat and sat beside Luna.

"Luna, anger leads to recklessness, sorrow causes hesitation—both are fatal weaknesses. Only by maintaining a steady mindset at all times can you achieve your goals."

Luna stared blankly at her palm, as if the hand Arlecchino had bandaged concerned her more than the wound itself.

Seeing her like this, Arlecchino turned back to the keys.

"What piece do you want to learn?"

"One that you like!"

"I don't have a favorite piece, but considering you've never played an instrument before, let's start with this one." Arlecchino raised her hand and pressed down on the keys.

A light and flowing melody rose with the movement of her fingers.

Luna leaned forward, carefully watching which keys Arlecchino's hands landed on.

"Stretch out your hand and place it on this key."

Luna extended her uninjured hand and rested it on a key.

She blinked, using her gaze to ask what the next step was.

Arlecchino spoke softly, "I will keep playing. When you feel the moment is right, press it down."

"Will I learn it this way?"

"No. But if I were to explain music theory to you directly, you'd find it tedious. Your gift lies in perception. Your swordsmanship—only you truly understand it, don't you?"

"In the same way... your music can only be understood by you."

Just feel it.

Arlecchino continued playing, with Luna pressing keys from time to time. At first, the notes clashed awkwardly, completely out of sync.

But gradually, the disharmony faded, blending into the melody.

Luna tried moving her other fingers, introducing more off-key notes.

She glanced at Arlecchino, and upon seeing no sign of disapproval, she continued to experiment, exploring the instrument with an almost childlike joy.

"Um... 'Father,' may I sit on your lap?"

Arlecchino stopped playing, silently gazing at her.

Neither granting permission nor denying it.

Such wordless scrutiny would normally make others shrink back and abandon the thought, yet Luna carefully got up and tried to sit on her lap.

Slowly lowering herself, she stole a glance at Arlecchino's expression.

"I believe you are already of an age to be a proper lady."

Arlecchino's expression remained unchanged as she spoke, her breath barely grazing Luna's skin.

Luna's cheeks reddened slightly, but she still pressed a hand to her chest and laughed softly. "But I will always be your child—or at least, I hope so."

"There is no need to hope. As long as you do not betray the 'family,' you will always be a child of the House of the Hearth."

And if one's heart no longer belonged to the "family" and wished to leave, she would accept that as well.

Only, there would be a price to pay.

"Not betraying..." Luna murmured.

"That's right."

Luna lifted her gaze, gently reaching toward Arlecchino's face—

But she quickly withdrew her hand.

"Please continue teaching me. Perhaps one day, I might even perform on stage for you." Luna smiled shyly.

The sound of the harpsichord rang out once more.

A light, flowing melody, sometimes disrupted by off-key notes—these jarring mistakes carried a raw innocence, just like Luna's smile back then.

And now.

In the intricate melody, every note was perfect, displaying nothing but maturity.

Just like the Luna standing on stage now, smiling.

"One day, I will perform for you on stage..."

Arlecchino narrowed her eyes slightly, watching the figure that now captured the attention of all.

This moment was the "one day" she had spoken of back then.