Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 222

George stomped loudly through the corridor, deliberately making heavy steps to show he was angry.

But no one noticed his displeasure because the surroundings were empty and there was no one around.

George was in the southeastern part of Brandenburg. Here, there was a large council hall, filled with stained glass windows and exquisite sculptures. Going up the double spiral staircase, there were six bedrooms with bathrooms and prayer rooms on the second and third floors, along with the smoking room, study, collection room, and game room.

Even now, the golden candelabras and silver tea sets in the council hall were still polished to a shine. However, compared to the orderly other parts of Brandenburg, this place was unusually quiet. Apart from daily cleaning and maintenance, people rarely came here. This was the main area where the former Duke Dwight, the late father of the current Duke, used to work and live.

Since the tragic accident of the previous Duke and Duchess and the young Duke’s succession, he and his sister Priscilla had moved to the north side of the castle, a decision made by the siblings together. As an adult, Duke Dwight had admitted to Charlie that continuing to live in a place full of childhood memories would have caused both him and Priscilla to become increasingly trapped in the past, making them weaker. This wasn’t beneficial for the siblings at that time.

But this didn’t mean this area became a forbidden zone. Duke Dwight didn’t close off this area and no longer deliberately avoided it after growing up, so George was unaware of the history under his feet. Brandenburg, as the residence of successive Duke Dwights, bore countless honors and pains. Currently, Duke Dwight had no intention of entrusting all this to little George.

George simply felt that this place was rarely visited and was a good place to hide.

Because he was sulking with his uncle. George hoped to spend his fourth birthday in the imperial capital, but this request, which he had made several days ago, had been repeatedly denied by Duke Dwight, no matter how much he pouted.

“I don’t want presents,” George bargained with his uncle. “I want to spend my birthday at the palace.”

Duke Dwight looked down at him. Before he could speak, George nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a small gesture that the Duke immediately stopped as he was very particular about George’s manners.

“Tell me,” Duke Dwight finally said, “why do you insist on going to the capital?”

This was because, during his last visit to the palace, the princesses liked him very much, and several princes were willing to play with him and had promised to give him ten gifts each for his birthday.

Gifts were part of the reason, but the main one was that the palace had many children, and George liked playing with many friends.

In this regard, Brandenburg couldn’t compare to the palace. Duke Dwight had only George, and although most of his Brandenburg knights were of marriageable age, there were very few with partners. By the time they married and had children, George would have grown up.

He didn’t want to wait that long. He wanted to play with existing children.

But George didn’t know how to express this. His ability to articulate lagged behind his thoughts, so after much gesturing, Duke Dwight only roughly understood that George wanted to play in the capital.

However, the capital wasn’t a place one could visit at will, especially a territory like Lemena, which had armed forces. Duke Dwight knew George wouldn’t understand even if he explained, so he ultimately denied the request and told him not to make such demands again.

It was particularly cold and unfeeling.

Sulking, George climbed the spiral stairs at the back of the council hall to a particularly large room with a soft carpet and a light purple Flobart chaise lounge. A snow-white blanket was half-draped over it, looking very warm.

George, tired from walking, couldn’t resist feeling sleepy when he saw the blanket. He curled up on the chaise lounge, wrapped in the blanket, and fell asleep.

He felt as if he had just fallen asleep when someone gently touched his back. George opened his eyes and saw a particularly beautiful woman sitting on the chaise lounge, looking at him.

“Darling, why did you fall asleep here?” the woman asked with a smile. “Whose child are you?”

George wasn’t fully awake, but he knew it was impolite to talk while lying down. He struggled to sit up but was too sleepy to move.

“Alright, alright,” the woman said gently, patting him again. “You can sleep here. I’ll help you find your father and mother later.”

George said, “Mother is far away.”

The woman paused. “And your father?”

“Father is far away too.” George yawned.

“Then who do you live with?”

“Uncle and Charlie,” George said, snuggling into the blanket, feeling it was as soft as a big cat.

Duchess Dwight was amused by his actions. She had found this unfamiliar child in her bedroom, and, unlike other noblewomen who might have immediately blamed the servants, she was always kind to people. Even if she had to hold someone accountable, it wouldn’t be this lost child.

Moreover, she found his sticky, sweet voice adorable. Arnie had been like that at his age.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly, planning to find the family who brought him to Brandenburg after he fell asleep.

“George,” George answered half-asleep, unlike his usual cautious self—being wary of strangers was a Dwight trait, but for some reason, he didn’t feel nervous around her. Perhaps it was her hair color, exactly like his uncle’s, or her gentle tone and motherly touch. Little George didn’t realize these things consciously. He just felt she wasn’t a stranger, thinking he must have met her somewhere before.

“Cute George,” the Duchess said, wrapping him in the blanket like a baby. Arnie used to love this, and sure enough, George contentedly closed his eyes.

“Did you come with your uncle?”

“I came with Uncle,” George mumbled, not understanding the question.

“Your uncle must love you very much,” the Duchess noted, observing George’s soft, smooth skin and chubby cheeks. The fabric of his clothes was expensive and rare, yet not overly extravagant—perfect for a child. She used the same material for Arnie.

Was this child brought by one of her husband’s guests? But she hadn’t heard the Duke mention any visitors today.

“Uncle doesn’t love me,” George said, a bit more awake now. He poked his head out of the blanket, looking aggrieved. “Uncle… um…”

He was always forbidding this and that: banning George from swimming in the farm’s pond, eating sugary apples, skipping homework, or not wearing pajamas to bed. George couldn’t decide which complaint to voice first.

But one thing was certain.

“Uncle is mean,” George concluded.

“Is your uncle really mean to you? Does anyone treat you gently?”

“Charlie is gentle.” George thought for a moment. “Charlie sneaks me into town to play.”

“So, you like Charlie but not your uncle?” The Duchess watched George’s childish muttering, reminiscent of her early days of motherhood, when Priscilla was just born and before Arnie came along. Every little action of the child brought her joy.

Though George was complaining, she could see he wasn’t truly mistreated.

“I like Charlie,” George mumbled. “I like Uncle a little bit too.”

The Duchess couldn’t help but laugh. “Only a little? It seems he’s a bad uncle.”

George blinked at her, and the duchess looked back at him.

After a while, George admitted, “No.”

“No what?”

“He’s not a bad uncle.” George had been with his uncle since birth and trusted and depended on him the most. No matter how much he sulked, he didn’t want to hear anyone call his uncle bad.

The Duchess understood and began to gently pat his back again. George, lulled by the pats, started to drift off to sleep and yawned, his eyes closing completely.

Once George was asleep, the Duchess stood up and opened the door. Her maid, Liosa, was in the corridor and hurried over when she saw the door open.

“Liosa, are there any guests at the castle today?” the Duchess asked.

“There are no visitors scheduled for today,” Liosa confirmed.

The Duchess didn’t mention the little intruder in her room. Priscilla was in class, the Duke was at the stables with their son, and the castle didn’t seem to have any strangers.

But George was only a few years old and couldn’t have sneaked past the many guards of Brandenburg. Was he a child of one of the tutors? But Priscilla’s teachers were all women…

When Duke Dwight returned to the castle, the Duchess told him about the child. His first reaction was to lock down the castle and investigate any suspicious individuals.

But the castle’s guards reported no unusual activity. Liosa and the other maids had been patrolling the corridors and hadn’t seen any strangers enter the Duchess’s room. The door had remained untouched until the duchess opened it.

It was as if the child had appeared out of thin air, falling onto the sofa.

“The mages detected no disturbances,” Duke Dwight said, looking at his wife. “Is the child still inside?”

The Duchess hadn’t allowed knights or maids near, only pulling her husband into the room. But when they looked at the Flobart chaise lounge, it was empty. Only the blanket the duchess often used had fallen to the floor.

George felt someone picking him up. He struggled briefly, then relaxed when he saw it was his uncle.

Dwight wrapped George in the sofa’s blanket and carried him out of the room, with a maid closing the door behind them.

Shivers asked quietly, “He seemed to be sleeping in an empty room. Should we lock these rooms?”

George, not fully awake, thought, How can it be an empty room? There was a kind lady talking to me.

Dwight paused for a moment.

“No,” he said.

Shivers said nothing more, following Dwight through the corridor. Portraits of Brandenburg’s previous owners hung on the walls flanking the spiral staircase. The Duchess in the paintings had a gentle expression. Priscilla had inherited her calm demeanor, and Duke Dwight had inherited her hair and eyes.

George hung onto his uncle’s shoulder, looking over to see Shivers, and made a face at him.

Shivers winked at him, signaling him to look ahead.

George turned to see someone waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“Charlie~” George rubbed his eyes and reached out his arms.

Shivers hesitated, but Dwight said nothing and handed George, blanket and all, over.

George skillfully clung to Charlie’s neck. “Charlie, where’s my present?” Charlie had left the castle early, promising to bring him a gift.

Dwight glanced at Louis, whom his son mistook for Charlie, but showed no intention of correcting him. Louis, too, didn’t correct George, instead carrying him out of the council hall and through the corridor to the courtyard.

A tent had been set up in the courtyard, with bonfires lit even during the day. Clowns and magicians in bright costumes and makeup, along with children from nearby estates around George’s age, were all waiting. When they saw George, they cheered. George didn’t understand, but he loved the excitement and quickly woke up, laughing.

“They’ve prepared many shows: puppet plays, comedy acts, magic tricks. You can watch whatever you want,” Louis said, setting George on the grass and leading him toward the tent.

George was captivated by the bustling courtyard. He noticed that Charlie’s tone seemed a bit different today but was too excited to dwell on it. He looked up at “Charlie”, and Louis looked back down at him.

“Happy birthday, George.”

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The author has something to say:

Charlie intentionally didn’t appear with Louis to tease George.

Louis, knowing he wouldn’t be around George long-term, didn’t see the point in confusing or making him miss him more. He let it slide, but he wouldn’t keep the truth from him as he grew older.

The drag troupe tearfully rehearsed a children’s program for their male god, but he won’t change his orientation because of their sacrifice.

This should be the last extra chapter. After marking the main story as complete, adding or changing chapters requires updating the story’s status, which is a bit troublesome (I didn’t change Arnie’s name in “King x King” for the same reason). If I have more to write in the future, I’ll start a new free short story or find another method. I won’t add new chapters here. Happy New Year, everyone~~~~

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Kinky Thoughts:

This is the last of the extras… Seems like the author forgot, or maybe wasn’t interested, in writing extras for the other major side characters (Eugene, Amber, Priscilla, Kurt…ect.).

If you did enjoy it, please consider supporting the author by buying the raws. You can use Google Chrome with their auto translate and this guide on how to buy novels on jjwxc. Remember, only with your (financial) support can artists continue to produce more great works.

For those looking for a western fantasy danmei, I strongly recommend Stray. It’s probably the best of the genre I’ve read.

Finally, I like to thank everyone for your comments, encouragement, help with my translations, and ko-fi donations.

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