Third Person POV
Another peaceful day was drawing to a close. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting golden light across the sky, its warm hues slowly fading into the embrace of dusk. The air carried the scent of fresh grass and the distant crackling of torches being lit for the evening.
"Huh?" One of the off-duty guards frowned, shifting his foot against the dirt. "Water?"
He lifted his boot, mud clinging stubbornly to the sole. His gaze wandered, only to notice scattered wet patches dotting the training ground in irregular spots.
"It didn't rain while you were dozing off, you dork," another guard quipped, his arms crossed as he leaned against the barracks wall.
"I know it didn't rain! It's spring—of course, it didn't," the first guard grumbled, still puzzled. "Then why is the ground wet?"
The second guard simply shrugged, jerking his chin toward the shaded arbour at the far end of the vast training ground.
"What's young master upto now?"
Perched on the wooden bench, a small figure sat with his elbows on his knees, jet-black hair tousled from hours of exertion. His fingers twitched as he stared at his hands, lost in thought.
"...Need to change that," Alaric murmured to himself.
Xironia's POV
"Hmm, hmm, look at that."
Alaric sat with his back to me, completely unaware. A perfect opportunity. A rare chance. A mother's duty, even.
To scare the living daylights out of him.
I stifled a giggle, walking forward until I was right behind him. Only the wall of the arbour separated us. He was mumbling to himself, focused, lost in whatever thoughts swirled in that clever little head of his.
"...Need to change that,"
"Boo!!"
Silence.
Alaric slowly turned his head to face me. We locked eyes. A few seconds passed.
He blinked. Then, deadpanned.
I mirrored his expression back at him, "Are you, like… immune to jumpscares or something?"
"I heard you approaching."
Lies. Slander. Impossible. No one sensed me when I was actively trying to be sneaky. Not even Novius did, and I prided myself on it.
Was it a coincidence? Or… did I get so dull that a child sensed me?
Deciding not to dwell on it for any longer, I casually walked around the arbour and plopped down beside him. "What needs to change?"
Alaric lifted a brow, as if confused by my question, before realization dawned. "Oh, I'm trying to learn this skill."
He nudged a book in my direction.
I glanced down.
Rank-2 skill book.
"Oh…"
Interesting. People needed to be at least on the Green Stage to learn anything beyond Rank-1 since the lower stages don't have good control over mana.
That was why battles between a person in Red Stage and another at Dark Red Stage were more about experience and technique rather than raw strength or trickery. The refinement boost wasn't significant enough to overshadow someone's years of training, and the lack of ability to learn the skill limits the use of mana.
Which meant—
I turned to Alaric, watching, waiting. "I see."
Let's see how he reacts when he realizes he's trying to do something impossible.
I glanced around the arbour, letting my gaze drift over the sea of flowers that were in full bloom around the arbour. Spring had painted the garden in a riot of colors, but amidst them all, one stood out—its delicate petals unfurling as if stretching toward the fading sunlight.
A daffodil.
I tilted my head, watching it sway gently in the breeze.
"Al," I murmured.
Alaric, still seated beside me, barely reacted.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Umm…" He blinked, glancing around. "Enjoying what?"
I chuckled.
"If you have to ask what you're supposed to be enjoying… are you really enjoying anything at all?"
His face scrunched up in confusion, and that only made me laugh more.
Still smiling, I reached out to pluck the daffodil from its stem, twirling it between my fingers. "You know, dear," I mused, my voice softer now, "life is very short. Very fragile. So, always try to enjoy everything you do… and cherish what is dear to you."
Alaric turned to me then, his expression unreadable. He was thinking. About what, I had no idea. But that wasn't unusual.
What was unusual was that I had said something so… weighty to a child.
Why had I even said that?
Maybe it was because he couldn't answer me.
Or maybe… it was because, deep down, I hoped he'd take it to heart.
I sighed, shaking my head. I hadn't come here to be sentimental.
With a breath, I let the moment pass.
"Hmm?"
The small noise I made was immediately echoed in a questioning tone.
I turned to find Alaric staring up at me, his deep blue eyes filled with curiosity.
How could I not wrap an arm around him? My dear son always looked so adorable.
"Al," I said, my voice carrying just a hint of mischief, "I have something to tell you."
"Ooh?" His head tilted. "What is it?"
Before answering, I leaned in conspiratorially. "First, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "...Alright?"
"Not even your father."
His confusion deepened, but after a brief hesitation, he sighed. "Okay."
Hehe… he looks so conflicted. Adorable.
Satisfied, I leaned in closer and whispered, "Soon… you're going to be an older brother."
A beat of silence.
"Oh."
I waited, watching his expression carefully. Surely, he'd be excited—maybe shocked, maybe bouncing with energy? But instead…
"Is that so…"
Flat. Underwhelming.
I frowned. Was he just bad at expressing himself? This was huge news—it affected all our lives!
"Mother," he finally asked, voice measured, "why shouldn't Father know about this?"
Oh. Oh.
Now I understood the solemn look on his face.
I stood up and strolled out of the arbour, making sure he was following before answering.
"It's because," I sighed dramatically, turning my gaze downward as if the words pained me, "this child… this news… it's something…"
I could hear Alaric gulp.
"…Something he's already aware of."
His face instantly scrunched into a grumpy pout.
Perfect.
Chuckling, I wrapped my arms around him from behind before he walked away, pulling him into a warm embrace.
"Hehe, you can't blame me. You're just too cute."
"Hmph." He grumbled under his breath but made no attempt to escape my hug.
"Aren't you happy you're going to be a big brother?"
"I am," he admitted, though his tone still carried a trace of silkiness.
"Good," I chirped, releasing him. "Now that's settled, we're organizing a feast tomorrow to celebrate."
Alaric blinked, his pout fading ever so slightly.
I turned to walk back toward the estate, and to my quiet delight, he followed without a word.
After that, nothing much happened for the rest of the day.
The constant stream of congratulations from everyone in the estate left me more exhausted than I cared to admit, but it was heartwarming nonetheless. And Alaric—sweet, curious Alaric—spent the entire time trailing behind me, his presence a quiet comfort.
I didn't mind it. In fact, I rather enjoyed it.
The next day, the feast began.
It wasn't anything extravagant—just a small celebration for the people in the mansion and those living in Greystone.
Watching everyone laugh and enjoy themselves was a rare kind of joy. But no matter how warm the atmosphere felt, I couldn't shake the weight pressing at the back of my mind.
This was dangerous.
The only reason we were holding this feast at all was because of tradition. Dukes and other noble families were expected—no, required—to host a grand celebration when welcoming a child. Invitations had to be sent to every noble house. It was a rule set by the King himself.
And those kinds of gatherings? They weren't just about celebrating. They were political. They were an open invitation for power plays, hidden threats, and the kind of danger that lurked behind polished smiles.
So if we had to hold that kind of event later, why not have this one first? One that was real. One that wasn't about appearances or alliances, but about sharing happiness.
The celebration went as smoothly as I could have hoped. Nothing unusual happened, and Alaric even got to play with the other children.
I watched him from a distance, my heart clenching at the sight. He blended in so easily—laughing, running, playing just like the rest of them.
But he wasn't just like them.
No matter how much I wished otherwise, Alaric's name alone made him a target.
I could let him play freely. I could assign guards to watch over him. But if something did happen…
It wouldn't just be him at risk.
The other children—those innocent, unsuspecting souls—would be caught in the crossfire.
I want Alaric to live. To experience childhood the way it should be. But if that joy came at the cost of another child's life…
That was a burden neither of us could bear.
The day after the feast, for some reason, Alaric was in my study after lunch.
I raised a brow at him. "Aren't you going to train? It looked like you were practicing something the other day."
"I'm done for the day," he replied simply, settling in beside me. "I'll stay here. To help."
"Hmmm~"
How adorable. I obviously knew why he was suddenly so eager to help. But who was I to deny him? If anything, this just meant I got to spend more time with him.
I returned to my work, which—if I were being completely honest—was usually the time I'd doze off for a bit after lunch. But since Alaric was here to help, maybe I could actually make some progress on the mountain of backlog that had been piling up for months.
Alaric moved around the study, fetching stacks of documents, letters, and reports that had been abandoned in neat, towering piles. It was amusing watching him work so diligently—almost as if he were the one in charge.
At one point, he brought over a particularly large stack of papers, but a few sheets slipped from his grasp, floating gently to the floor.
Before I could react, he was already reaching down, swiftly gathering them back up and placing them on my desk.
"Hmm."
For the first time since we'd begun, he made a sound. His gaze lingered on the topmost page.
There was something… odd in his expression. His blue eyes weren't really looking at the paper. It was as if he was staring through it—like his mind had gone elsewhere.
"This is a letter…" he murmured. "It's asking for more time."
I blinked. "What?"
"They can't pay their annual taxes at the moment."
I frowned, snatching the paper from his hands.
It was a letter. And it did say exactly that.
How did he read it that fast?
I studied him carefully. Was he just playing around?
No, he wasn't the type to joke about something important.
There was only one way to be sure.
"Al, dear," I said sweetly, pointing at a different pile. "Can you tell me what those papers are about? I need to know if they're the next set I should work on."
Of course, I already knew what they contained. I had finished going through them a while ago.
Alaric walked up to the stack without hesitation, plucked the top sheet, and skimmed it.
Or… pretended to skim it?
No. That wasn't it.
I wasn't imagining it. His eyes were moving, but they weren't focused in the way they should be.
"Uh, it's about the profits gained from selling ores… from a month ago."
I barely held back a chuckle.
Yeah, alright. He didn't have to say that last part out loud. It wasn't that late—delayed work wasn't the end of the world. I always prioritized what was truly urgent.
"I see. Thanks, Al."
He nodded and returned to my side, watching me as I worked. But how could I focus on something this boring when I had just witnessed something so interesting?
Not when I might have just found a way to never do this tedious work again.
I placed my elbow on the desk, resting my chin in my palm. "Al, dear, you'll get bored just standing there like that. How about this—take some papers from that pile and tell me what they're about? That way, you'll be helping me and keeping yourself entertained. If you don't understand something, just ask."
Alaric didn't hesitate.
Just as I thought.
With how fast he could read, the difference in work efficiency was like night and day. In just a few minutes, the stack I had been slowly chipping away at for days was completely done.
I couldn't stop the sly smile from creeping onto my face.
If this kept up, I could clear my entire backlog in weeks.
Having him here was even better than working with Mother. When she helped, we worked at the same pace—like having an extra pair of hands. But Alaric?
He wasn't just reading through the papers one by one.
With his ridiculous speed and absurdly accurate summaries, he was like a second brain processing everything for me. All I had to do was cross-check whatever he said.
A little spark of hope flickered in my chest.
Maybe… just maybe…
I would never have to do this kind of work again.
"Are you not going to give them more time?"
Alaric's voice cut through my delightful fantasy of a paperwork-free existence.
I followed his gaze. He was looking at the same letter—the tax extension request.
"No."
"But they might have had some sort of trouble," he said immediately. "Shouldn't that call for some leniency? It's their first time, isn't it?"
He was so young.
He still saw the world in simple, moral terms.
I exhaled softly. "You see, Alaric, we aren't supposed to act based on kindness alone. We are leaders in this region. If we show leniency to one side, the others will take advantage of it. They'll abuse it for their own benefit."
Everything had politics behind it. Everything.
Especially in the world we stood upon—the stage of power and scrutiny.
This was just one case, but what if it was a test? We always had to consider the worst-case scenario in these matters. What if, after granting some leeway, next year a bunch of sectors suddenly came up with excuses to delay payments? And we wouldn't be able to deny them—after all, it would be their first time too.
No. That wasn't a risk I was willing to take.
"Since we don't know the full situation, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and…" I muttered, already putting pen to paper, "Tell them to pay—yep, this should be generous enough."
I wrote an official reply, stating that we would accept whatever amount they could pay for now. However, since this was the first instance of such a request, they were required to submit a very detailed report explaining the cause of their situation. If it turned out to be an unavoidable crisis, we would grant them a year to pay the remaining amount.
But if their reasoning wasn't severe enough… they would face penalties. An increased tax. A consequence for trying to take advantage of our mercy.
I glanced up.
Alaric's once-gloomy face had brightened. Satisfied with the decision, he returned to his reading, his small hands flipping through the pages with practiced ease.
The days that followed settled into a quiet, comfortable rhythm.
Every afternoon, without fail, Alaric would appear in my study to help with my work.
For the first time ever, my study was devoid of the overwhelming stacks of paper that had once loomed like miniature fortresses. The sight of a clean desk and my empty study made it feel… liberating.
It took a full month to clear the backlog, but after that, I made sure not to let it pile up again.
…Or maybe it wasn't me at all. Maybe it was Alaric.
If I were being completely honest, none of this work would have gotten done without him.
Because he didn't just help me.
He forced me.
Every time I tried to laze around, he would appear beside me with yet another stack of papers. I could tell that within the first two days of stepping into my study, he had already figured out exactly how much work was left undone.
And he wasn't about to let me run away from it.
Well, in the end, I didn't mind. It was still fun. Since he had started training, these past few months had been the longest time I had spent with my son.
And with less work to worry about, I had more time to rest—to finally take care of myself the way my body demanded—and to simply enjoy my days with Novius and Alaric.
Sometimes, we would sit together just to talk.
Other times, Alaric would suddenly grab a skill book and start reading out loud, continuing until either he finished or I had to get up.
He was my little helper, keeping me occupied.
The maids and butlers were godsend.
The maids ensured that every meal was perfectly nutritious, while the butlers… well. Their vigilance was commendable but a little unnerving. They insisted on testing everything before letting me eat it, just in case.
Because if something were wrong…
It wouldn't just mean discovering a betrayal.
It would mean hunting the one responsible.
And it would mean deciding the fate of someone who had once worked for us.
After Aurelia determined that the child would likely arrive in winter, Alaric became even more attached to me.
This little one wouldn't let me move unless it was absolutely necessary. And even then, as I walked, he would always stay close—his presence a quiet but firm reassurance, as if trying to support me without saying a word.
It made me so happy.
Novius had become just as clingy. The moment he wasn't being forced to work, he was beside me.
I was so fortunate.
To have them.
To have a family like this.
A/N: Really sorry for the late chapter. I was quite busy for a few days and forgot to schedule the chapter, and only now that I tried to check how it was doing did I see that I hadn't even uploaded a chapter. Really sorry.