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While Firentia gazed happily out the window, Clerivan was in Lullock’s study.
Aside from his duties as the head of successor education, he also managed the estate’s finances, and there was much he needed to report directly to the head of the family.
“…That will be all for today’s report.”
“Well done. Sit down for a moment and have some tea.”
“Then I won’t refuse.”
When Lullock pulled a small bell, a servant waiting outside entered with tea.
True to the Lombardi family’s study, the aroma of the finest tea leaves filled the room, delighting the senses.
“So, what do you think?”
Although the words were clipped, the bond between Lullock and Clerivan was such that they understood each other perfectly.
“…I believe I understand what Your Excellency means.”
“You’ve always been so blunt, haven’t you?”
Yet Lullock knew Clerivan well—strict with others, even stricter with himself—and let out a soft chuckle.
“Until recently, I thought she was just an ordinary seven-year-old. Truly fascinating.”
“I actually wanted to ask you about that very thing.”
Clerivan set down his teacup and spoke.
“I called the servants who have been attending to Gallahan and Miss Firentia, but none of them knew of her brilliance.”
“I see, as expected.”
“When I informed Gallahan that Miss Firentia is fully qualified to attend lessons, he was very surprised as well.”
“Hmm…”
Lullock rubbed his neatly trimmed beard.
It was a habit that emerged unconsciously whenever he pondered deeply.
Observing this, Clerivan cautiously spoke.
“Could it be that Miss Firentia deliberately concealed her abilities?”
“Concealed her abilities?”
“It is merely a hypothesis…”
“Explain it to me.”
Lullock’s brown eyes, darkened with the years like the bark of an ancient tree, carried a weight that made anyone meeting his gaze bow their head slightly.
Matching the solemn expression of the head of the family, Clerivan’s own face became serious.
“She is an exceptionally intelligent young lady. Someone like her would notice things that ordinary children never would. For example, the internal position of her father Gallahan within the Lombardi household.”
“That could be.”
The atmosphere in Lullock’s study grew heavier.
He had led the Lombardi family more successfully than anyone else, yet raising children had never gone according to plan.
Indeed, it was undoubtedly the most difficult challenge in Lullock Lombardi’s life.
One child was excessive, another thoughtless, another timid.
His eldest and only daughter, Shananet, seemed the most suitable heir, yet her marriage outside the family risked the estate’s wealth flowing out.
To prevent this, Lullock’s son-in-law, Bestian Shuls, entered the family as a son-in-law and ensured that his two sons took the Lombardi name, but everyone knew his ambitions were self-serving.
Even now, Shuls had repeatedly caused problems by trying to divert Lombardi business to which he had no rightful claim.
Lullock shook his head gloomily and let out a sigh of lament.
“If only Gallahan had been a bit bolder…”
Yet the head of the family’s principle was to not intervene in the succession battle.
He simply watched, ensuring things did not spiral to extremes.
“It’s a relief that Firentia didn’t inherit my father’s temperament.”
The tight, stifling pressure in his chest seemed to lift at the thought of Firentia.
“One thing to consider: Firentia’s intelligence may also be due to Gallahan’s suitable upbringing. Environment is an important factor.”
“Still, it’s regrettable… It’s true that Gallahan’s position is such that Firentia had to hide her abilities.”
“There’s still plenty of time. No need to rush.”
Clerivan’s words made Lullock nod gravely.
“Let’s observe for now. Have her report to me directly after each lesson.”
Clerivan responded with another sip of tea.
Knock, knock.
The sound of a knock arrived just then.
With Lullock’s permission, the visitor entered—it was Bieze.
“Father, the people from the Durak Guild have arrived.”
“Then I shall rise and see them.”
As Bieze stepped into the study, Clerivan greeted Lullock.
Only then did Bieze notice Clerivan’s presence and openly scowl in displeasure.
“So, you’re here too.”
“It’s been a while, Bieze.”
Clerivan had always spoken plainly, even to someone clearly not suitable as the head of the family, so their relationship had never been cordial.
“Father needs to meet someone important, so step aside…”
“No. Sit a little longer, Clerivan.”
“Father!”
Bieze’s protest went ignored; Lullock remained unmoved.
Clerivan, unable to defy the head’s order, shrugged and sat back down.
“Have the Durak Guild representatives brought in.”
“…Yes.”
Though displeased, Bieze reluctantly moved aside, glowering at Clerivan.
Soon, a middle-aged man in elaborate clothing, waiting outside, entered and bowed politely to Lullock.
“Pleased to meet you. I am Kroyton Angenas of the Durak Guild.”
Angenas.
The familiar family name furrowed Clerivan’s brow.
The Angenas family was that of the current Empress, and of Bieze’s wife Seral.
Clerivan crossed his arms silently.
“Lullock Lombardi. Please, take a seat and let’s talk.”
Even as Kroyton sat down, Bieze could not hide his excitement, fidgeting in his seat.
“I’ve heard about this from my eldest son, but shall the guild leader explain the plan again?”
Lullock’s words prompted Kroyton to clear his throat.
The explanation was lengthy.
After the long discussion, Clerivan asked to confirm the key points.
“So, you intend to transport textiles from the eastern provinces, process them, and sell them. Since the Durak Guild currently lacks the capacity for long-distance operations, you want to entrust Lombardi’s guild with the transport, correct?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Additionally, the payment for these textiles would need to be borrowed from the Lombardi Bank.”
“Yes, that would be appreciated.”
Ha…
What nonsense was this.
Clerivan rubbed his rising forehead and glared at Bieze across the table.
Ahem…
Even Lullock seemed uneasy, repeatedly stroking his beard.
“This seems like an excellent plan, Father?”
Bieze’s idiotic remark made Clerivan feel like his head might explode.
It was clear he didn’t even know what the problem was.
“Let’s make it a substantial sum while we’re at it.”
Moreover, this ruffian Angenas—who might be the Empress’s cousin—seemed to believe he was retrieving money he had already entrusted.
From their perspective, it was probably all the same.
The Angenas family was, after all, the maternal relatives of the first prince, Astana.
This was a matter involving the Imperial Court and a guild backed, likely, by the Empress.
Though the Durak Guild bore the name, the venture ultimately ran on Lombardi funds. In other words, Lombardi would bear the full risk of failure.
Unless they intended to completely antagonize the Imperial Court, they could not simply seize Angenas assets like a debt collector. That was why they had come knocking at Lombardi’s door.
Every word spoken could later boomerang into a problem.
At this moment, the only one unaware of how absurd this “business plan” was… was Bieze, grinning foolishly.
Lullock certainly understood, yet Clerivan restrained his anger, trusting the head would properly reject the plan.
“…I’ll leave this matter to you, Bieze. Execute it carefully, without mistakes.”
“Father!”
Clerivan shouted in surprise, but Lullock remained silent, keeping his mouth firmly closed.
“Yes! I won’t fail you, Father!”
Before his words could even change, Bieze seemed ready to flee with the guild leader.
Clerivan, alternating his gaze between the silent Lullock and Bieze, realized he must intervene. He stood abruptly, speaking firmly.
“First, let’s inspect the goods before discussing this further.”
Bieze was caught off guard by the sudden interjection.
He had been celebrating prematurely, believing this Durak Guild plan was a golden opportunity to gain further power.
The Angenas family was experiencing a minor cash shortage, and this textile venture would place the Imperial Court heavily in debt to them.
Yet, seeing Lullock’s expression, Bieze hastily nodded in agreement with Clerivan’s suggestion.
Furious at Clerivan for ruining his plans, Bieze shouted:
“Who does someone who only handles kids think they are to interfere!”
Clerivan ignored him, focusing solely on Lullock.
“…This isn’t an unreasonable request, is it? How about it, Guild Leader?”
Kroyton, momentarily startled, reluctantly nodded.
“Very well. We already have a stockpile of textiles ready, so we’ll deliver those first and return for the rest.”
Bieze’s face turned red in front of the Durak Guild leader, humiliated as though he had done something wrong.
“Forgive me, Guild Leader. I have no excuse.”
That fool!
Clerivan clenched his teeth to hold back the words he wanted to shout.
To see someone trembling so submissively before a client seeking Lombardi’s money and services…
Even the dumbest dog knows whom to show its belly.
Clerivan could almost ask the late madam whether the author of this mess was truly Lullock’s son.
He watched Lullock’s unreadable gaze at his eldest son, eventually shaking his head in disbelief.
“Is this the right place?”
I stood before a large door.
Although I had lived in the Lombardi estate for over twenty years, I had never entered this room.
When I attended lessons before, I used the education officer’s study in the northern annex, not near the head of the family’s study.
“This must be it, I suppose.”
Shrugging, I pushed the large door with effort.
It opened smoothly, without a sound, revealing its interior.
“Huh?”
I had imagined a typical classroom with desks and chairs, like the one I studied in.
But what I saw inside was nothing like that.
The large space was bathed in warm sunlight. The carpet underfoot was soft enough to lie on immediately.
Comfortable sofas of various sizes were scattered freely, with instruments and charming dolls placed here and there.
The only items resembling a classroom were a large blackboard and shelves filled with books along one wall.
And in that space, small figures seemed to naturally claim the room as their own.
Perhaps hearing me enter, all of them looked up, each in their own way.
Belesac lay sprawled on the largest sofa, mouth agape in shock.
Nearby, Belesac’s sister Larane was reading a book beside a large doll.
By the sunny window, Shananet’s twin sons, Giliu and Meiron, stared at me with sullen expressions.
They were my cousins, the blood of the Lombardi family.
