Click.
The door closed with a soft sound. Harold, who had been staring until the very end, sighed lightly and sank deep into thought.
“Chloe… that was her name.”
He whispered the name of the child he had never once spoken aloud. It suited her well—the girl who had just looked at him with those brazen eyes.
“Come to think of it, Adeline always had a knack for naming things.”
His gaze darkened as he recalled the Adeline of the past, who had once named flowers, trees, puppies, birds, and countless other things.
“Chloe. Chloe Eryton.”
The name paired nicely with the surname “Eryton,” and Harold’s lips curled in satisfaction.
Even if it hadn’t been intentionally chosen to match Eryton, it didn’t matter—it was to his liking.
Unable to hide his satisfaction, Harold let out a breath and lightly rubbed his forehead.
Well, there was something more pressing to focus on right now: Chloe’s education as his successor.
Though the confirmation document from the temple hadn’t arrived yet, Harold had no doubt that Chloe was his and Adeline’s child.
That vivid red hair and those golden eyes—without a doubt, she carried Eryton blood.
An Eryton successor had to undergo an immense amount of education. Harold himself had done so.
Of course, he was well aware that his and Chloe’s circumstances were completely different, so he had no intention of forcing her into harsh training from the start.
As he rhythmically tapped the sofa armrest with his index finger in thought, Harold looked toward the door and called out,
“Lennon! Are you out there?”
The door opened almost immediately, and a blond knight entered the room.
Lennon Anaike.
He had been Harold’s closest aide for over a decade.
Though born the fourth son of the Count Anaike—a branch of the Eryton family—and thus far from inheriting a title, Lennon’s life had changed entirely when he met Harold at the age of seventeen.
“If you’ve got nothing better to do, pick up a sword. And follow me.”
Harold had reached out to Lennon, who had been living more like a delinquent than a noble.
Perhaps because of that, Lennon was almost excessively loyal to Harold.
“You called for me, Duke?”
“Yes, come closer.”
Harold gestured to Lennon, who bowed politely.
“How is Seian doing these days?”
“…Excuse me?”
Caught completely off guard, Lennon’s eyes widened slightly.
Seian Anaike, the second of the five Anaike brothers, was a renowned scholar across the continent.
He had treated studying as a hobby since childhood and was one of only three people ever to receive a comprehensive degree from the prestigious Holy Kingdom Academy.
Thanks to his intellect, he had earned the title “The Greatest Genius the Empire Ever Produced.”
He also had another nickname due to his expressionless face and eccentric personality: “The Monochrome Eccentric.”
To Lennon, his second brother was definitely more the latter.
Charitably speaking, he was a free-spirited academic, but to Lennon, he was just a lazy drifter.
Seian had spent years traveling abroad and returning on whims.
Even when their parents suggested he use his talents to find a job or settle down and marry, his only response—delivered with his signature cynical expression—was:
“Why should I?”
Of the five Anaike brothers, Seian was the only one without a job.
True, he didn’t rely on the family financially, but he was certainly old enough that his carefree lifestyle was cause for concern—at least in Lennon’s eyes.
So when Harold suddenly inquired about Seian’s wellbeing, Lennon couldn’t grasp his intention.
With an uneasy look, Lennon opened his mouth cautiously.
“I did hear he recently returned to the country… but I haven’t contacted him. He wanders so freely… But why do you ask—?”
“Hmm…”
Harold stopped tapping his fingers. The steady rhythm ceased, and silence fell.
The longer Harold delayed his reply, the more Lennon’s anxiety snowballed.
And understandably so—Harold’s expression didn’t look particularly pleasant.
“Um… may I ask why you’re inquiring about my second brother all of a sudden?”
“I’m thinking of putting him in charge of Chloe’s education.”
“…What?”
Lennon raised his voice without meaning to, startled.
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, Seian has no experience teaching children… No, he has no experience teaching anyone, for that matter. Entrusting the young lady to someone like him is a bit…”
Though Lennon trailed off, the rest of his sentence was clear from the tone.
“Is that so? I think Seian is perfect for that little rascal.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I’m saying your average person wouldn’t be able to handle my daughter.”
A satisfied smile tugged at Harold’s lips. But to Lennon, who couldn’t quite grasp his reasoning, it only brought unease.
“Send word to Seian. Tell him to visit Eryton before the week is out.”
“…Yes, understood.”
Lennon replied, trying hard to hide his reluctance.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Make sure to include this in the letter.”
“What would you like me to say?”
“Payment will be whatever he asks for.”
“…”
“Young Lady, how would you like your hair styled today?”
“High up, please.”
“Alright, tied in one ponytail?”
“Mmhmm.”
I nodded while popping the last piece of macaron into my mouth.
“Hmm…”
My reflection stared back at me from the smooth mirror—an innocent child with yellow macaron crumbs smudged all around her mouth.
I brushed them off and studied my face closely.
Curly red hair, large golden eyes, chubby cheeks, and a faint flush.
Not to boast, but objectively, I was pretty cute.
Except for the hair color, I figured I got most of my looks from Mom.
…Or did I?
The duke’s claim that I resembled him lingered in my mind.
Okay, maybe the red hair was similar, but the rest? No way.
No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t see any resemblance between us.
“Ellie.”
“Yes, Young Lady?”
“Do I look like the Duke?”
“…Pardon?”
Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise. I could understand—she probably didn’t think we looked alike either.
“Of course! You’re the spitting image of him. I was so shocked when I first saw you. I just knew—you were our young lady.”
“…”
Ellie’s answer caught me completely off guard.
“And especially this hair… I couldn’t help but admire it. Isn’t it just beautiful?”
From her dreamy expression as she brushed my hair, it was clear she wasn’t just saying that.
In contrast, my own expression soured. I couldn’t understand her words at all.
Back in the village, I’d often been teased because of my red hair.
Some said it was cursed, or dyed with blood.
Maybe that’s why I’d never once thought my hair was pretty.
I even wished I had inherited Mom’s silver hair instead.
True, the duke’s red hair, shining brilliantly under the sun, had left a deep impression on me…
But still…
“I think Mom’s hair is prettier.”
“Ah…”
Ellie looked troubled for the first time, seemingly unable to refute my claim.
“Still, this red hair proves that you’re a true Eryton.”
“Because it’s the same color as the Duke’s?”
“Not just the Duke—the previous duke and the one before him all had red hair!”
“…What?”
So this red hair had been passed down through generations?
As I was still processing this new revelation, a knock came at the door.
“Young Lady, it’s Carter. May I come in for a moment?”
“Yes.”
As soon as I answered, Carter entered—not alone.
“Excuse me, Young Lady.”
After getting my permission, several servants followed Carter inside, carrying armfuls of books.
What on earth is all that?
