I Became the Male Lead’s Adopted Daughter-Chapter 259

I Became the Male Lead’s Adopted Daughter-Chapter 259

‘He called me... his daughter.’
Leonia only realized it belatedly—Ferio had referred to her as my daughter. The ground that ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) had been collapsing beneath her feet suddenly felt firm again.
“If I said I wasn’t surprised, that’d be a lie.”
Ferio spoke frankly. Even for him, what he had heard through the door—Leonia’s conversation with the god—was a tremendous shock.
To be honest, it struck him harder than the fight with Remus.
A world completely different from this one.
A daughter who wasn’t really seven years old.
A wife who had experienced an unjust death and a cycle of repeated lives.
Even Ferio Voreoti, feared across the Empire, found it difficult to accept such a secret.
His fingertips turned cold, and for once, he wanted to flee the scene. His vision swam.
“But you know...”
Ferio twisted his lips, as if still finding it all absurd. Just thinking about it made laughter spill out despite himself.
“It’s honestly impressive how little you’ve changed.”
“Wh-what do you mean...?”
“Back there or here, you’re still the same, Leo...”
Ferio broke into genuine laughter, covering his face with one hand as his shoulders shook slightly.
Leonia’s face burned red in response—not from shame, but because he was still calling her “Leo.”
“You’re a massive pervert.”
It might have been a joke, but Ferio’s tone was unusually serious.
“Your unwavering taste is honestly admirable.”
Leonia squinted one eye. The more she listened, the more it sounded like he was mocking her.
“No wonder none of my efforts worked.”
Ferio claimed he had read every parenting book in the Empire.
But no amount of parenting knowledge—past or present—could cure Leonia’s “perverted” tendencies.
He’d racked his brain to nurture a child’s innocence, but it all backfired. More than once, he’d ended up on the losing end of her counterattacks.
There were many days when he wondered if he lacked the proper mindset to be a father.
But now, at last, he had confirmed—he hadn’t been wrong after all.
“...Uh...”
Leonia, who had been listening in a daze, cautiously spoke up.
“Forget parenting—your drawing is catastrophically bad.”
She still remembered when he said he would draw the Fangs of the Beast for her, and ended up sketching something that looked like a squashed, fluffy cream puff.
His artistic skill—or lack thereof—was the one area where the otherwise capable Ferio completely failed.
“Your art lies somewhere between catastrophe and apocalypse.”
“That’s called a primitive, three-dimensional style,” Ferio replied without even a twitch of his facial muscles.
Leonia thought that was a brilliant excuse—no doubt forged from countless hours of inner turmoil.
“And being too perfect is boring.”
Especially for someone as impressive as herself, it was important to have at least one flaw, so others wouldn’t feel uncomfortable—she said it with absurd confidence.
Leonia was dumbfounded... and a little happy.
He hasn’t changed.
The way they bantered, the tone of their words.
Ferio’s attitude was just as it had always been, and it gave Leonia the courage she needed.
“You’re... not mad?”
“Is there a reason I should be?”
“Because I lied...”
“It wasn’t lying. You simply couldn’t say it.”
Ferio gently corrected her wording himself.
“You and Varia were carrying a secret that could easily make you look insane in anyone’s eyes.”
“But I...”
“And Leo, it’s not like you really tried to hide your secret.”
No ordinary seven-year-old ogles muscles, or giggles wickedly at the thought of two men being paired together.
On top of that, Leonia had once said her real age.
“Me?”
Leonia was shocked. She didn’t remember that at all—but Ferio remembered it vividly.
“At the children’s tea party.”
Ferio had taken her to a tea party hosted by the Kerata couple so she could socialize with kids her age and nurture some childhood innocence.
But Leonia hadn’t been thrilled. At one point, she looked at Ferio and said:
‘Do you know how old I am?’
‘You look like a five-year-old seven-year-old.’
‘Actually... I’m over twenty. I’m going to be thi—’
She had confessed her real age to Ferio right then.
“You’ve always shown me the truth.”
Even though she became a child, she never behaved like one. Leonia had always been honest. She’d never told a lie—not once.
“It must have been hard.”
A child carrying such a secret alone... Ferio could only feel pity and heartbreak.
He stood up and sat beside her. Leonia, now tearful, looked at him with trembling eyes.
“Did I ever scold you for being into muscles?”
“N-no... never...”
“Did I ever call you a creepy little old lady?”
“Not once...”
“Have I ever regretted bringing you home?”
“Never...!”
Tears finally spilled from her eyes, brimming hotly over her lashes.
Leonia bowed her head, trying to hold in her overwhelming emotions, but Ferio gently lifted her face with both hands.
“Nothing’s changed.”
Ferio smiled, dazzlingly.
“Great people always carry one or two outrageous secrets.”
And his whisper—yours is just one of those—was so full of affection, it made her cry even harder.
Ferio’s hands, cupping her face, were soaked with her tears.
But instead of pulling away, he carefully wiped her cheeks.
“There’s no need to cry.”
He scolded her gently, his voice a touch firm.
“We’re family.”
From the moment they walked hand in hand through the snow, they had become something special to each other.
Even if they fought, they could always make up.
When something delicious came along, they were the first faces that came to mind.
When joy arrived, they were the first ones they wanted to tell.
And when sorrow came, they wanted each other’s comfort.
“...Waaaah!”
Leonia’s chin quivered—and then she burst into sobs.
Huge, glassy tears spilled down her cheeks, pooling under her chin and dropping heavily.
“You really are a crybaby.”
Ferio’s voice was teasing, but endlessly gentle.
“D-dad...”
Leonia sniffled and called out.
“Thank you, thank you...!”
“You’re thanking me for that?”
Ferio chuckled softly.
“That’s just what family does.”
***
Ferio left Leonia’s room exactly one hour later.
He had wiped her tear-swollen eyes with a damp towel, tucked her into bed, and stayed by her side until she fell asleep.
But Leonia had a hard time falling asleep.
‘...Don’t you have any questions?’
She hesitantly offered to answer anything he was curious about.
Ferio didn’t force her to sleep. Instead, he asked all sorts of questions.
Mostly about the family she had in the other world.
The fact that Leonia had died young in that life weighed heavily on him, and he was worried about the family she had left behind.
He understood that sorrow now—he, too, was a father.
‘What were your parents like?’
‘Pretty normal. Kind of old-fashioned.’
‘Any siblings?’
‘A younger brother.’
‘Any dreams or goals?’
‘Actually... I wanted to be an artist.’
Leonia’s eyes sparkled especially when she talked about her dream.
‘I loved drawing since I was little. But my family was against it, so I just got a regular job.’
‘Even though their daughter wanted to do it?’
‘They meant well. It’s hard to make a living through art there.’
But she couldn’t give it up, so she kept drawing in her free time after work or on days off.
Eventually, she gained a peculiar reputation—“Goddess of the Rose Fields,” “Priestess of the Muscle Man.”
‘Those sound scandalous.’
‘They’re sacred titles!’
‘Leo, how did you end up with those tastes?’
Liking muscles wasn’t the problem—it was the extremity.
‘Well...’
And then she revealed something truly shocking.
‘My first love...’
Ferio winced like he’d heard a cursed word.
Apparently, her first love had been a muscle freak. Just to talk to him, she learned all about workouts and muscle groups—until one day, she’d crossed a river of no return.
They had only been chatting idly for a short while before Leonia drifted off to sleep.
Ferio kissed her forehead, tucked the blanket around her once more, and finally left for the room where Varia was staying.
He knocked gently and announced himself, and soon Varia’s voice answered.
“You’re still up, I see.”
“So are you.”
They looked at each other and smiled, a little bitterly.
“...You heard everything, didn’t you?”
Ferio asked as he pulled up a chair beside the bed.
The weariness on Varia’s face wasn’t just from what had happened in the Northern Mountains.
“I never knew what was happening...”
Whenever divine interference caused her to lose consciousness, she had never been aware of what occurred during that time.
“But this time... I heard everything.”
“Maybe the god wanted you to hear it on purpose.”
“I think so too.”
Varia fiddled with the edge of her blanket with her fingertips.
“...Is Leonia okay?”
Varia’s first concern was the child. Ferio replied that he had just seen her fall asleep.
“She seemed a little shaken.”
“She didn’t seem—she was definitely shocked.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s our daughter.”
Ferio knew no secret could drive a wedge between him and Leonia.
If anything, he even felt a childish pride that their child was more special than others.
And the same went for Varia—it meant his wife was just as extraordinary.
But Varia felt shame. Her secret, now revealed to others, made her feel exposed and humiliated.
Her first life had ended in complete misery.
“Varia.”
Ferio gently brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.
“The blame always lies with the one who harms.”
So she mustn’t blame herself for being foolish, he said.
“You’ve already struck Remus Olor down twice. Isn’t that enough?”
He joked that she’d only be satisfied if she led a revolution next.
Finally, a faint smile escaped Varia’s lips.
“It’s enough now.”
She shook her head softly.
“With you and Leo...”
With her new family.
“I just want to live happily from now on—for everything we’ve been through.”

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Chapter 259