Episode 3 – Lotte’s Gift
“It’d be nice to hire a proper guard, but skilled people cost too much. And with the state of our funds…”
Elaine trailed off, and Celeia pressed her lips together.
All the money from the divorce settlement… I spent it all on Cheringen these past five years.
Clearing the land, buying expensive fertilizer—just to make it possible to grow potatoes.
Every bit of it had drained their coffers.
Now, almost nothing was left.
“Oh, right. This came for you.”
As if she’d nearly forgotten, Elaine handed over a letter.
Celeia glanced at the sender and gave a wry smile.
“Sir Benian is nothing if not persistent.”
“Well, it is nice that he always checks on you.”
“It’s not just checking in—that’s the problem.”
Elaine’s dry remark made Celeia smirk with a faint grimace instead of answering.
“Mom!”
A familiar voice came from the doorway. Both women turned their heads at once.
“Lotte.”
At her mother’s call, a little face peeked through the crack in the door.
With short pink hair tied into two little pigtails, round rosy cheeks, and wide green eyes shining brightly, she was the picture of loveliness.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, my sweet girl.”
Celeia pushed the letter aside and spread her arms.
The child dashed across the room on short legs and jumped into her embrace.
Lotte might act mature for her age, but Celeia knew she still loved cuddles.
“What were you up to, Lotte?” Celeia asked warmly, smoothing her daughter’s messy curls.
Just like her mother, her hair was stubbornly curly and quickly tangled.
A faint milky sweetness clung to her scent.
“I ate the sandwich Vera made, and read a book.”
“Oh? What book?”
“The Age of Revolution: The Livius Wars and Decline.”
“…R-right?” Celeia stammered slightly, darting a glance at Elaine, who only shrugged helplessly as if to say, Don’t look at me, I have no idea who gave her that one either.
“Wasn’t it too difficult?”
“Not really. It was annoying, though. The whole thing was way too biased toward Hilbrante, the winner’s side.”
“…I see.”
Lotte blinked her big, clear eyes.
Esperote Kastin Bertan.
That was the full name of the little girl Celeia had named with all her hopes.
She had been unusual from the start.
Even as a newborn, she barely cried, always staring around with alert, intelligent eyes.
She spoke earlier than other children, learned to read earlier, and grew so quickly that everyone who met her called her a genius.
But still… a five-year-old reading scholars’ history books?
The real change had come a few months ago.
Despite being told countless times not to walk while reading, Lotte had been doing exactly that, tripped over a rock, and fell.
“When she got back up,” Vera, the head maid, explained, “the young lady suddenly asked how old she was. When I said five, she muttered she couldn’t believe it, then started patting herself all over. And then she ran straight to you, Lady Celeia.”
They had all been worried—she had never acted so strangely before.
But Lotte had brushed it off with a calm face, saying she must’ve just had a weird dream.
Odd as her explanation was, since nothing else seemed unusual after that, Celeia decided to let it go.
“Mom?”
Lotte tugged on her hand, snapping her out of thought.
“Yes, dear?”
“I want to give Maximilian a retirement gift.”
“Sir Devonshire?” Celeia blinked.
Maximilian Devonshire had been their protector and captain of Cheringen’s guard.
Originally a knight serving the old lord, he’d planned to retire after his lord died.
But when the new “lord” had arrived—a woman carrying a newborn child—he had volunteered to stay, protecting them for five years.
“Yes. Next week he won’t be here anymore.”
“But he promised he’d still visit sometimes, even after retiring.”
“Yeah, well, promises are promises…”
Lotte’s vague mutter made Celeia pause, but she quickly shook off her unease.
“Still, it’s a good idea. I was thinking the same thing.”
Recently, Maximilian had finally agreed to retire.
After years of overwork, his body was worn down, and a stubborn gout diagnosis had sealed it.
Even so, he had worried, if I quit, who would protect my lady and the little one?
But Celeia had insisted—she couldn’t bear to see him push his body further.
“Then maybe we should visit the market today, buy him something nice?” Celeia suggested.
Lotte’s green eyes sparkled, but instead of answering, she reached across the desk, where a newspaper always sat.
Celeia picked it up automatically, then froze.
Wait—the front page article…!
She didn’t want her daughter to see it.
Lotte might not know yet that her biological father was the emperor—but still, Celeia didn’t want her seeing an article about him fathering a child with another woman.
But before she could hide it, Lotte’s little hands flipped the page herself.
“Let’s see…”
To Celeia’s relief, Lotte didn’t even glance at the front-page news.
Instead, she turned to the next page, scanning the article about a Teian Kingdom envoy visiting the empire tomorrow for trade talks.
But the way Lotte studied the page—frowning seriously, staring intently—looked like she was poring over something far more important than it was.
Then she looked up suddenly.
“Mom, let’s not go today. Let’s go tomorrow.”
Something in her small face looked… deliberate, almost planned.
Celeia, relieved enough that she’d ignored the front page, nodded.
“Alright. Tomorrow it is.”
“Yes!”
Lotte beamed.
Her lips curled into a grin she couldn’t hide, cheeks puffing, eyes turning into crescents.
Does she even realize how easy she is to read when she smiles like that?
Usually so adult-like, but moments like this reminded Celeia she was still just five.
She couldn’t help smiling back.
“Are you excited, young lady?” Elaine teased.
“Uh-huh. Really, really excited,” Lotte nodded firmly.
Because I’ve got a special surprise in mind.
Her green eyes glimmered with secret intent, but neither Celeia nor Elaine noticed.
The next morning dawned bright and clear.
Cheringen might be barren, but it wasn’t lacking in sunlight.
The perfect day. My daughter picked well.
Celeia felt a little proud as she walked down the old castle’s halls.
But her steps slowed when she spotted the broad-shouldered figure waiting by the entrance.
Though she’d barely made a sound, the knight’s senses picked her up, and he turned at once.
“You’re here.”
“Sir Elden.”
Hayder Elden, one of the Bertan imperial knights.
At her call, he turned back with his usual blank expression.
Almost like he was hiding something.
Celeia told herself it was just her imagination.
“The carriage is ready.”
They’d lived under the same roof for years, but their relationship was still stiff and formal.
Celeia let out a tiny, hidden breath of relief.
I did ask him to come along to the market, but I thought he’d refuse.
Unlike Maximilian, Hayder wasn’t bound to obey her—he was officially an imperial knight.
She rarely asked him for favors.
“Um… thank you.”
At her quiet gratitude, Hayder looked back at her again.
Those deep navy eyes, gazing down at a woman so much smaller than himself, were impossible to read.
