“Tia, what would you like for your birthday present?”
My father asked as I watched the servants clear away the breakfast dishes. After some very careful probing last night, I had figured out that I was still seven years old, with about a month left until my eighth birthday.
“I want a teddy bear! A really big teddy bear!”
I shouted brightly, choosing something a typical seven-year-old might want.
“But you don’t like dolls.”
“Ah……”
I messed up. Ever since I was little, I had never liked dolls—whether they looked like people or animals.
They feel like they might come alive at night.
And yet here I was suddenly asking for a giant teddy bear. Feeling my father’s puzzled gaze, cold sweat trickled down my back.
“O-on second thought… I don’t think I want a doll.”
“Then what should I get you?”
“Hmm……”
Nothing came to mind. If I were to choose something I truly wanted, it would be something like a villa in a quiet place, or an estate that could support me for life.
But I couldn’t exactly ask for that.
I was just about to settle on asking for a book when my father clapped his hands as if he’d had a brilliant idea.
“Right! How about a horse, Tia?”
“A horse?”
“If we bring in a one-year-old foal and raise it from now, by the time you become an adult, it’ll grow into a fine horse.”
“A horse……”
I blinked, momentarily speechless.
Horses were expensive.
They were such valuable assets that the number of horses one owned could indicate the scale of wealth.
Not just the price of the horse itself, but the cost of upkeep was significant. Unless you personally fed it and cleaned up after it, you needed to hire someone. You needed a proper stable, and of course, wide land for it to run freely.
Even in noble families, gifting a horse to a child was something done for their eighteenth birthday.
“I received my first horse as a birthday present when I was your age.”
But this was the Lombardi family.
Normal standards didn’t apply here.
My father, who usually seemed modest and gentle, was still a Lombardi at heart. I stared at him quietly.
“Hm? Why are you looking at me like that, Tia?”
“It’s nothing. But Dad, that would be too sad for the foal.”
“Sad?”
“I mean… it’s only one year old. It would have to be separated from its mother. That would be really sad.”
“Tia……”
Ah. I made a mistake.
The moment I said it, I realized it. My father’s eyes became moist instantly.
“You don’t like the idea of being separated from its mother……”
I had forgotten for a moment that my mother had died right after giving birth to me. My father must have thought I was projecting myself onto the foal.
“N-no, Dad, that’s not what I meant…!”
I tried to fix it, but it was too late. Looking at me with tearful eyes, my father pulled me into a tight embrace.
“This father of yours didn’t think it through. Then we’ll bring the mother horse as well.”
“I’m fine—…what?”
What did I just hear?
“As you said, separating such a young foal from its mother would be too cruel. So if we purchase the mother too, they can stay together and live happily.”
That… made sense.
But while foals were expensive, breeding mares were even more so. Still, my father, the son of the Lombardi head, clearly wasn’t concerned about such things.
Half resigned, I nodded.
“Our Tia is so kind-hearted.”
He stroked my head lovingly and hugged me again.
Well… I guess I’ll just learn horseback riding.
Purring like a well-fed cat, I listened as my father spoke again.
“Shall we skip the library today and read in the drawing room?”
Unlike my cousins, who had nannies and spent most of their time with them, I didn’t have one. For small things like washing or changing clothes, I relied on maids, but otherwise, my father handled my daily life.
In other words, from the moment I woke up until I went to sleep, I stuck to him like glue.
Part of it was because we were a small family of just the two of us. But the real reason this simple routine was possible was because—
my father was unemployed.
“I think I’ll write a book today.”
Though he was knowledgeable in many fields, from art to economics, he rarely applied that knowledge in practice. It simply remained knowledge. Occasionally, when something truly interested him, he would organize his thoughts into a book.
Of course, those books weren’t published for profit. They simply sat on the shelves of his study.
And yet, this same man could buy both a mare and a foal as a birthday gift for his seven-year-old daughter.
The Lombardi family really was something else.
After confirming that my father was absorbed in his work, scribbling something down, I sat a little distance away and opened my own book. I only pretended to read.
My real purpose was something else.
Let’s organize my thoughts.
I needed to plan what I would do next. Writing it down would be ideal, but someone might read it.
Being stuck with my father all day was inconvenient at times like this.
Flipping pages as if reading, I identified my first priority.
I need to win Grandfather over.
Before he died, Grandfather had regretted not recognizing my abilities sooner. But even if he had, I was certain it wouldn’t have changed the future.
Even a few years earlier, it would have already been too late.
The line of succession had been firmly established around Bieze, the eldest son, and his heir Beleśak. Even if I, an unacknowledged illegitimate granddaughter of the third son, stood out, what would have changed?
There were too many barriers.
I was a daughter, a half-blood, and the child of a powerless third son.
So from now on, I had to show Grandfather that I had the qualities of a head of the family. I had to secure my position and gain his absolute support.
But I don’t have to rely only on internal power.
I needed to use every possible means.
That was why I thought of the second prince.
Someone outside the family who could solidify my position within it—and continue to support me even after I became head.
Of course, I would help him become Crown Prince as well.
There was no future emperor who would reject the Lombardi family after receiving such help from a young age. We could become strong allies.
Now that I think about it… it should be around this time.
I looked out the window as light rain began to fall.
The second prince, Perez—his mother would die sometime during this rainy season.
Despite bearing the emperor’s son, she was denied proper treatment due to pressure from the empress and eventually died.
Fueled by that bitterness, Perez later took revenge. When the empress fell ill, he barred physicians from entering her palace.
By then, he was already Crown Prince, holding power in place of the ailing emperor. The first prince, Astana, who should have protected his mother, had been sent away.
No one could stop him.
From a neglected prince to Crown Prince—he must have endured unimaginable hardship.
Without that bitterness, it would have been impossible.
Right now, having just lost his mother, Perez was probably spending his days alone.
I wanted to go to him, comfort him, and build a connection.
But I couldn’t leave.
It was Grandfather’s rule: Lombardi children were not allowed to leave the estate freely before turning eleven.
Limited outings were allowed with permission, but they were rare—meant to protect young heirs from danger.
So just wait a little longer.
I didn’t plan to ignore the second prince until then, but for now, my focus had to remain within the family.
First, I needed to secure a way into the imperial palace.
Flipping another page, I tried to recall—
What happened in Lombardi around this time?
After managing the family for years, I had learned its history thoroughly.
When I turned eight…
There had definitely been a major incident.
Just then—
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts, followed by a strangely familiar voice.
“Lord Gallahan, are you here?”
Where had I heard that voice before?
“Who is it?”
My father tilted his head and opened the door.
And the moment I saw the face beyond it, I was stunned.
A self-made businessman who had once run the Lombardi trading guild, then left the family after Grandfather’s death—just like me—and founded the Pellet Company, turning it into one of the top five merchant groups in the Lambrew Empire in just two years.
Clerivan Pellet had just stepped into our drawing room.
