CICN 37

Chapter 37

Inside the inner palace’s conference room, the ministers were engaged in conversation while waiting for the Emperor to arrive.

Perhaps it was because the Academy for Gifted Children had recently reopened.

Most of their conversation centered around the academy.

“It’s a relief that the academy seems to be operating smoothly.”

“Indeed. I was worried it might face many issues, especially since this is the first reopening since the war. But so far, it doesn’t seem to have any major problems.”

In truth, there were problems—just not ones they wanted to openly admit.

‘There are quite a few children dropping out.’

Before the war, everyone knew how strict the academy was.

So, noble families used to prepare their children from an early age to get into the academy.

Things like teaching them to wash up, dress themselves, and manage their daily routines independently.

But now, seven years after the war broke out.

It hadn’t even been that long, yet people had completely forgotten the academy’s rules.

What’s worse, with many nobles having died in the war, those who remained became all the more protective of their children.

As a result, the children naturally grew up spoiled.

Some didn’t even feed themselves.

Suddenly throwing such children into an environment where they had to do everything on their own—of course they couldn’t handle it.

There was a child who cried and caused such a scene on the first day that they never even made it through orientation.

Another asked, upon arrival, if there were no maids or servants, and then wondered how they were supposed to manage.

Some managed to endure a day or two, but eventually gave up even trying to dress themselves in their uniforms and withdrew.

One child, in particular, had accumulated over 50 demerit points in a short span of time due to conflicts with peers and rude behavior toward staff—and was promptly expelled.

There were many reasons, and many children who left the academy because of them.

Naturally, this became a source of shame—not only for the children, but also for their guardians who had sponsored them.

As a result, the conference room was now divided into two camps.

Those whose sponsored children were still surviving in the academy.

And those whose children had already quit or been expelled.

The latter group couldn’t even raise their heads and were doing everything they could to ignore the conversation about the academy.

The former, on the other hand, spoke with growing pride.

“Now that I think about it, it’s almost time to send gifts from guardians. What have you all prepared?”

One minister, who had heard that his nephew was already building strong friendships with other noble children, asked with a smile.

‘I heard he’s particularly close with Irene Terrins.’

He’d even received a letter saying the boy often stuck by Irene’s side, and would drive away the other children who annoyed her—something Irene apparently appreciated.

‘Getting close to the Terrins family… there’s nothing better than that.’

The Terrins had decided to send their second daughter into central high society.

If that family had made such a decision, they were sure to secure a place in the capital.

They had to get close—cling tightly, even.

The others, encouraged by his relaxed tone, began offering their own answers.

“I ordered a fountain pen from a master craftsman last year. My friend’s grandson is studying so hard—he kept saying he wanted a new pen. I’m expecting great things. I’m sure the professors will come to love him.”

“I ordered a set of books for my niece to read while she’s in the academy. An updated edition of the encyclopedia came out this year, and…”

“The academy uniforms must get boring, so I arranged for some stylish civilian clothes and shoes for casual wear—made at a very famous atelier…”

While the ministers were all discussing what gifts they’d prepared for the children they sponsored—

Just beyond the slightly open door of the conference room, Clois was listening in.

‘Gifts from guardians?’

That hadn’t been a custom back when he attended the academy.

‘In that case, I suppose I should send something too.’

At the same time, he remembered the handkerchief he still hadn’t returned.

He had already been wondering whether to just return it plainly or include a small gift along with it—and now he found out there was an actual tradition for it.

It was perfect timing. Clois listened carefully to what the other ministers were preparing.

After a while, he began to think.

Unlike the other children, who probably received various things from their noble families, Ivi wouldn’t be in the same situation.

In that case, wouldn’t it be fine for him to give her a bit more?

That thought opened a floodgate of ideas in Clois’s mind.

What would be a good gift?

He recalled what the other ministers had just said.

A nice fountain pen would be good.

But not just that.

Fountain pens, regular pens, pencils, colored pencils—he should prepare every kind of stationery at the highest quality.

Books and clothes would also be helpful.

Suddenly, the image of his own study crossed his mind.

The chamberlain often selected books from renowned imperial scholars and stocked them in his study.

It wasn’t only books he liked.

There were also many famous or essential volumes that were considered a noble’s basic cultural knowledge—so they had been added too.

Naturally, there were various dictionaries.

Some of them were even aimed at children.

Every noble household in the empire was required to keep such materials, so it was only expected that they were in his study as well.

A full set of dictionaries would be good.

That way, whenever she was curious about something, she could look it up right away.

Clois mentally began to furnish Ivi’s room.

She was a child from a poorhouse. She probably didn’t have many clothes.

More shoes would be good too. She’s at an age where she should be running around and playing.

Before he realized it, Clois was imagining what colors of clothes and shoes would suit Ivi.

Summer is coming soon. She’ll need a wide-brimmed hat.

A child with bright blonde hair—she would look lovely in a hat decorated with flowers.

Do girls usually like things like ribbons and accessories?

He’d heard that such items were often matched to the child’s eye color. Hers were green, so a big green ribbon brooch would probably suit her no matter where she pinned it.

And so, in Clois’s imagination, the list of potential gifts kept growing.

Then suddenly, an old memory came to mind.

A conversation with Lillian about their unborn child’s hair and eye color.

At the time, Lillian had said:

“I think the child will have your hair color. And my eyes.”

Clois had shaken his head at that.

“Why? I hope our child has your red hair. I’ve never seen a color more beautiful in my life.”

After they were married, he had only grown more shameless with compliments, which made Lillian chuckle and confidently say:

“I know. Our child will be born with blonde hair and green eyes. And she’ll be a girl.”

She had said it with such certainty, like she had seen the future.

So after he went off to war, whenever he tried to imagine the child he had never seen, he naturally pictured a girl with blonde hair and green eyes.

‘Just like Ivi Elden…’

Realizing where his thoughts had gone, Clois snapped back to his senses, shocked.

He ran both hands down his face.

Until now, he had only vaguely thought about Ibbvien—but he had never fixated on a specific child like this before…

‘I need to be careful.’

He let out a long sigh.

Lately, the emotional walls he had built up were crumbling more often.

If he started to feel the kind of affection one feels for their own child toward another child…

‘That would be unacceptable.’

Even now, the nobles eyeing the position of his heir were like vultures, ready to pounce.

But that wasn’t the only issue.

‘My daughter no longer exists in this world.’

To cherish another child while imagining them as her…

That would be unforgivable—to both that child, and to the real Ibbvien.

Clois forced himself to erase all the items floating in his mind.

He would give only a proper, formal gift. Nothing more was necessary.

From what the other ministers had said, they weren’t giving extravagant gifts either.

One item should be enough.

‘In that case…’

Clois fell into thought again.

A child who had traveled far from home. Unlike the other academy students, she had no one here to rely on.

And not long ago, she had even experienced something frightening—left alone in the dark for hours.

What kind of gift would be best for a child like that?

Then, something flashed through his mind.