I Became the Male Lead’s Adopted Daughter

“...What the heck?!”
Leonia quickly scurried behind Probo for cover.
Ferio’s expression, up close, was not one she’d ever seen before.

It was covered in a savagery that defied description.
Even Probo, holding Leonia, began to back away step by step.
“I almost peed myself,” Leonia whispered.

The icy air spread in an instant.
Probo was struck with the illusion that even the breath he exhaled had frozen white.
That’s how cold and heavy the atmosphere now felt.

Tap, tap.
Ferio’s fingers twitched near his thigh.
“Tabanus…”

The moment Ferio spoke his name, Leonia became certain of one thing about the future.
That man—whether he was Musca or Mascara or whatever—would definitely meet his end at Ferio’s hands.
This was exactly the “something really bad happened” Leonia had predicted earlier.

And the cause wouldn’t be some stupid excuse like mistaking an office for a bathroom—but because he had insulted Leonia’s blood as vulgar.
“...Sir Musca Tabanus.”
After a long silence, Ferio called out to him again.

Musca Tabanus, trembling in fear, flinched pitifully at the sound of his name.
“The restroom is to the right of the banquet hall on this floor.”
“Ah, ah... yes…”
“Please make your way there.”

Surprisingly, Ferio didn’t do anything to Musca Tabanus.
Instead, he took Leonia from Probo and ordered him to personally escort the man to the restroom.
Probo dragged Musca away as though making an arrest.

“…Are you mad?”
Leonia peeked up at him cautiously.
Ferio looked down at her without a word, then let out a long sigh. He also gave her a look that said, I’m going to lose my mind because of you.

“You’re not mad?”
“Of course I’m mad. That’s why I waited and told you.”
“You did this last time too...”

The “last time” Ferio was referring to was the incident involving Kerena, the ex-etiquette instructor.
Back then, Leonia had sworn she’d tattle as soon as Ferio returned—but ended up losing control and unleashing the Fangs instead.
“Just beat him up.”

Ferio said he’d cover it up even if she accidentally killed him.
“I was going to.”
There was actually one thing Leonia hadn’t told Ferio yet.

Musca Tabanus had poked her forehead with his finger—like pushing her aside.
Leonia wasn’t just annoyed; she was genuinely curious what kind of lunatic dared touch her like that.
It was the first fresh new form of suicide she’d encountered since Kerena.

“…Horizontal or vertical?”
Ferio muttered ominously after a long pause.
“Huh?”

“Which direction should I rip him in—across or down?”
Then he added that there was also a diagonal option, just to be thorough.
“…I know I’m not in a position to say this, but…”

Dad really doesn’t know what not to say to a child.
Leonia reached up and threw her arms around Ferio’s neck with a big hug.
Because he got angry in her place, all the irritation and discomfort from earlier melted away like snow.

“I’m sleepy now.”
“Shall I take you to your room?”
“Yeah…”

Ferio began walking her to her room.
With his slow pace and soft, affectionate hand on her back, Leonia yawned widely. By the time he laid her down in bed, she was already fast asleep.
Ferio kissed her forehead and tucked the blanket in gently.

Then he headed back to his office.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Inside, waiting just as Leonia had described, was the large, chubby “cat.”

“My daughter’s naptime,” Ferio said.
“She’s such a sweet and lovely child.”
The snow leopard growled—a low, satisfied hum.

“And besides, I arrived earlier than I was supposed to.”
The snow leopard stood up straight on two legs.
Its fluffy fur transformed into a pristine white dress. The sleek, flowing garment clung to a long, slender frame—of exotic Eastern origin.

The plump feline form became the curvy body of a woman, and the fierce beast’s face shifted into the smiling expression of a beautiful, sharp-eyed woman with short blue hair.
“For the record, it’s true that Sir Musca Tabanus insulted your young lady. Oh, and he also sneered while poking her forehead with his finger.”
“What an exceptionally creative way to commit suicide.”

Ferio imagined himself delicately slicing off Musca Tabanus’s finger and neatly embedding it into the man’s own forehead. It was a surprisingly fitting image.
The woman seated on the sofa gave a soft smile and crossed her right leg over the left.
Her snow-white leg peeked through the high slit of her dress.

‘…Looks cold.’
Ferio furrowed his brow.
If Leonia ever tried wearing something like that when she got older, it would be a serious headache.

He silently resolved not to import that kind of dress in any future trade with the East.
“First of all,”
Ferio said, taking a seat across from her.

“Welcome to the North.”
The master of the North greeted the master of the East.
“Marquis of Ortio.”

Her narrow eyes, like the endless night sky, curved into a gentle arc.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Duke.”
And yet, it was still the smile of a hunter.

***
Two days after the tea party ended.
Count Rinne’s family climbed into the carriage to return home.

They would stop briefly in the Western region before continuing on to the capital.
“Persistent bunch.”
Ferio muttered as he came out to see them off.

“You’re the one who invited them.”
Trying to act all indifferent now—Leonia didn’t bother hiding her suspicious glare.
“I don’t care who you like, Dad. But a married man is off limits, okay?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to get the wrong idea?”
“I’ll keep watching! You can’t fool my eyes!”
“You really know how to enjoy life, don’t you…”

Ferio muttered as he ruffled her hair.
The Papa Beast had decided to just give up and accept the Baby Beast’s weird preferences.
It was easier that way.

“Well then, we’ll be off.”
“Thank you for having us.”
While Carnis and Abipher exchanged final farewells, Leonia said her own goodbyes to Ufikla and Pinu.

“Don’t give your parents a hard time on the way, make sure to stop for the bathroom whenever the carriage stops, and if you feel sick, look out the window at something far away…”
Leonia showered the two children, whom she had grown fond of, with loving nags.
The main point was: don’t fight on the long trip and listen to your parents.

“Yes!”
“Okaaay!”
The kids nodded brightly.

At some point, Leonia had completely tamed the Rinne siblings like her own little minions.
“…Your daughter’s seven, right?”
Carnis whispered quietly.

In that moment, he saw Abipher—the children’s mother—overlapping with this little girl.
“She says her mental age is close to thirty.”
“That’s… alarmingly accurate.”

This translation is the intellectual property of .
"That age sounds oddly believable," Abipher giggled softly.
"Well then, we really should get going now."

"Please take care, young lady."
"Yes. You both travel safely, too."
Leonia gave a polite farewell.

This time, she properly saw off Count Rinne’s family with the formal manners she hadn’t shown on their first day.
"…Young lady."
Carnis lowered himself to her level and took her hand, his throat tightening with emotion.

"I’m truly glad that you became Ferio’s family."
He gave a big sniff and smiled—genuinely, like a friend who deeply worried about Ferio.
Leonia couldn’t meet his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"I’m glad too… that Dad is my dad."
"I’m sure Ferio feels the same."
"Yeah, I know that now."

A large hand settled gently on top of Leonia’s head.
Ferio had been listening to everything—and the corners of his mouth curved into a warm smile.
The Rinne family finished their farewells and boarded the carriage.

Through the open window, Ufikla and Pinu leaned out and waved their arms wildly, shouting that they wanted to see her again.
"I told them not to stick their heads out the window."
Leonia let out a short sigh, but waved back just as enthusiastically.

"Leonia unni! Come visit our house next time!"
"Bye-bye, noona!"
"You guys be careful too!"

And with that, the carriage departed.
Count Rinne’s family, who had filled the Voreoti estate with noise and laughter for days, finally left.
Ferio and Leonia stood there until the carriage became nothing more than a tiny black speck in the distance.

"……"
Feeling strangely forlorn, Leonia wobbled from side to side and leaned against Ferio’s leg.
"It feels a little lonely."

"It’s a relief those noisy people are gone."
"Dad, you’re so not honest."
Still, Ferio didn’t move an inch.

Annoyed at his lack of response, Leonia teased him a little harder.
"Sigh… if only Count Rinne weren’t married, I could’ve picked him as your new husband—"
"You…"

Ferio lightly tapped her lips as she ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) spouted nonsense.
"…It’s not lonely, because I have you."
Leonia blinked up at him.

Ferio tilted his head slightly, as if saying, "Right?"
And Leonia beamed.
"I’m not lonely either when I’m with you, Dad!"

Father and daughter turned their eyes toward the window, where sunlight filtered through. In the garden, a tree came into view.
Leonia pointed at it.
"The leaves are turning green."

The fresh little sprouts looked so cheerful.
"Stubby and round—just like you."
Ferio commented briefly.

"…Ugh, seriously!"
Leonia’s face twisted in frustration as her reflection shimmered faintly in the glass.
Spring had quietly arrived.

***
"What the hell is going on?!"
Sir Musca Tabanus shouted in a rough voice.

"The quantity delivered is less than last month’s!"
He slammed the supply report down onto the table.
"…Sir Tabanus."

Viscount Kerata, seated across from him, pressed his thick fingers to the creases in his brow, trying patiently to explain.
For the third time now.
'I wonder if this is how His Grace feels sometimes.'

Ferio often looked around at people with that expression that said the world was exhausting.
For the first time in his life, Viscount Kerata completely understood that feeling.
Dealing with people who just don’t get it could make your blood boil.

"Spring is when reindeer give birth."
Reindeer mate in the fall and give birth the following spring.
Because of this, during late spring and early summer—when they’re raising their young—leather production comes to a halt.

"Still, isn’t the drop too drastic?!"
Even after three detailed and kind explanations, Musca Tabanus couldn’t grasp it.
He remained fixated on the reduced supply.

Viscount Kerata summoned every last bit of patience from the depths of his thick belly.
"Have you forgotten last year?"
At his low voice—like a dark cave—Musca paused.

"Didn’t the number of monsters increase significantly?"
At the word "monsters," Musca visibly flinched.
Kerata noticed but pretended not to.

"Our Kerata family also suffered damage back then."
Which, in truth, was a complete lie.