~ AT EARL'S MANSION ~
A black and brown-ish hair smooth as silky, Irene has curly hair getting brush by her mother in front of her table mirror.
" You truly has my hair, Irene-~ " Rosella stated as she felt the smooth hair in her hands.
Irene frowned, " Mom, your hair is in your head, "
" Pft, " Rosella chuckles, " What I mean is you inherited the same hair as I have, smooth and beautiful~ If you grow it longer, it'll be exactly the same as mine~"
Irene pondered, " Then mom, if we do not have original hair, to whom did you inherit yours? "
Rosella was startled by her daughter's remark not knowing if it was a pure question or a sarcastic note, still, she answered, " My father, your grandfather, "
" I see, " Without any expression to express, Rosella couldn't read her daughter's mind, Irene mumbled out of blue, " Then this proves I'm your daughter after all, "
