"Hello, little girl. What is that you are drawing?"
"... a butterfly. The ones in the park."
"Well, that is a beautiful butterfly you have."
"T... thank you..."
Charles Ashford. Head of the Ashford name, a businessman of high standing with single bachelor plastered all over his aged face. He has come to the point where he must seek an heir, but cannot father a child naturally. Thus, whilst he still has his years, the man resorted to adoption. Searching for the child of another to inherit the Ashford name and fortune.
Charles found that his search bared no fruit, however.
Finding a child worthy of such honor and privilege was no easy matter. The child must be gifted and academic, a rare occurrence for those... orphans. After all, gifted children are useful for their families. None of the children tested through conventional methods were up to Ashford standards. The academically successful either belong to another family name, or have a history of being undesirable and rotten due to their spoiled upbringings once their intelligence was discovered.
Going through common orphanages was the better option, but there laid another issue. Only a fool would discard a good child. As much as Charles did not want to admit it, the typical orphan was a gambit of intelligence. When they are young, they have "room to grow" in vague amounts, all dependent on nature on top of their nurture. Upon reaching testing age, the child's intelligence may often be either average or poor, leading to a wasted effort. It was not impossible to find success, of course, but... average was not what Charles was looking for.
It broke Charles's heart to know how picky he was, but he must be strong. He may contribute and invest all he wants in their futures, but the man was searching to parent an heir. For a child born under another name, they must not be average. They must be exceptional. They must have the potential to lead, to maintain and to grow the Ashford name. Just as Charles did, and his father before him. A prized jewel that needed to shine amongst the Ashford collection through hardship and dedication.
And he found one such gem in the orphanage on 7th. A red eyed child with long black hair, meek in mannerisms and modest in attire. While the other children were off playing, this one was by her lonesome underneath the dining room table. Charles curiously went to greet the girl whilst the staff were preparing documents.
"Hmm. By any chance, is this a monarch butterfly?"
"No... it's a viceroy."
"A viceroy?"
"Yes... this part of the wing. There is a line... monarchs don't have that... s... so..."
Monarch butterflies. Viceroy butterflies. Monarchs and viceroys. Kings and queens, and their representatives. In the civilized, human world, a viceroy is quite literally a vice royal. A vice-king. A public face for a country empowered to act in the sovereign's name, as if they were the very king of that country. Not unlike the natural world, where viceroy butterflies mimic the monarch butterfly for survival, utilizing the colorful properties to avert predators due to looking unpalatable.
The two types of butterflies share the most minute of details that separate them, details that most would disregard and group into mere butterflies. This little girl has the care and precision to detail to draw a butterfly to the exact detail. With a simple pencil and a box of crayons, she put to paper a beautiful work of nature. Having the word to back up her vision, able to discern the most miniscule of characteristics in these insects. Impressive.
"Ah... fascinating creatures, these are. My, and you've colored it red?"
"... yes... red is... pretty..."
YOU ARE READING
Revenge Fantasy
Mystery / ThrillerKuroiwa. A known name throughout the black market, belonging to a figure that has gone unseen. Every job they post, regarded in the highest demand by countless criminals and mercenaries. Every job they take, carried out with a terrifying and inevita...
