Chapter 6

“Tia, what would you like for your birthday?” Father asked as I watched the servants clear the breakfast plates.

As a result of some careful searching, I was able to determine that I had about one month until my eighth birthday.

“A teddy bear! I want a really big teddy bear!” I shouted, assuming it was what a seven-year-old girl would want.

“But don’t you hate dolls?”

“Uh...”

Oh no.

I had always hated anything to do with dolls, whether they were animal or human. I worried that they’d come alive at night...

To think someone like me would suddenly want a teddy bear.

My father gave me a strange look, and I felt sweat begin to trickle down my back.

“Y… you know… maybe I don’t want a doll.”

“What would you like then?”

“Hmm...”

Nothing in particular came to mind.

What I actually wanted was a secluded villa somewhere or a large estate where I could live for the rest of my life. But I couldn’t ask for something like that.

I guess I could just ask for a suitable book.

At that moment, my father clapped his hands as if he’d just had a great idea.

“Right! What about a horse, Tia?”

“A horse?”

“If we get you a foal that’s about a year old, you can bond with it and raise it. By the time you’re an adult, it will be a splendid horse.”

“A horse...” I blinked, unable to respond immediately.

Horses were expensive. The number of horses someone owned usually indicated the owner or family’s wealth. The cost of a horse was significant, but the maintenance costs were even more important.

Unless you personally fed and cleaned up after the animal, you needed to hire someone. Horses also required a proper stable, and a wide expanse of land where the horse could run freely went without saying.

Even in a typical noble family, gifting a horse was often reserved for an eighteenth birthday, a fitting coming-of-age gift.

But I was a Lombardi. Typical economic standards didn’t apply.

“I received my first horse as a birthday gift when I was your age,” my father recalled.

Times like these reminded me that Father was indeed a member of the Lombardis, which was easy to forget because he was usually so humble and gentle.

“Hmm? Why are you looking at me like that, Tia?”

“It’s nothing. But Daddy, I’d feel bad for the foal.”

I wasn’t particularly interested in learning to ride, so I had to come up with a random excuse.

“Feel bad?”

“It would have to be separated from its mom at the age of one. That would be so sad.”

“Tia...”

Oh, right.

As soon as I finished my sentence, I realized I had made a mistake. I watched my father’s eyes become moist as he looked at me.

“You don’t want to separate it from its mother... I see...”

I had forgotten.

My mother had passed away right after giving birth to me. My father clearly misunderstood me, thinking I was identifying with the foal.

“Da... daddy. That’s not what I...!”

I tried to correct myself, but it was already too late.

My father hugged me tightly and said, “I was short-sighted. Let’s make sure we bring the mother horse as well.”

“I’m oka—What?”

What did I just hear?

“As you said, it would be too cruel to separate a foal that’s only a year old from its mother. So if we buy the mother horse as well, they can live happily together.”

He’s not wrong, but... a foal is expensive. A horse capable of giving birth, even more so.

However, as the son of the Lombardi household’s patriarch, money would be the last thing on his mind.

I nodded, half-resigned.

“How can my Tia be so kind-hearted?”

My father patted my head and hugged me once more.

Alright. I guess I’ll learn horseback riding.

I purred as contently as a well-fed cat while my father said, “Why don’t we read in the drawing room instead of the library today?”

Unlike my cousins, who spent most of their time with their nannies, I didn’t have one. I relied on the maids for tasks like bathing or changing clothes, but my father oversaw most aspects of my daily life.

In short, from the moment I woke up until I went to bed, I was stuck to my father like white on rice. This simple routine was made possible by two things: our small family size and my father’s unemployment.

“I thought I might try writing a book today,” he said.

My father had a wide range of interests and was knowledgeable in various fields from economics to the arts, but he never put that knowledge to practical use. You could say he was the type whose knowledge remained purely theoretical.

However, when he occasionally found a subject that genuinely piqued his interest, he would organize what he knew and compile it into a book.

Of course, he never profited from them. The completed books were simply placed on the shelves in his study.

And yet, my father still had the means to purchase both a mother horse and a foal for his seven-year-old daughter.

Being a Lombardi is the best.

I watched my father become engrossed in his work, sketching diligently, and found a spot nearby to settle in and open my book. Of course, I was merely pretending to read; my true purpose was slightly different.

Let’s organize my thoughts.

I needed to carefully plan out what to do next. Ideally, writing it all down would help organize my thoughts, but there was also the risk of someone reading it.

At such times, spending the entire day with my father could be quite a nuisance. I pretended to read while flipping through pages and identified my first step.

I have to win over Grandfather’s heart.

Before he passed in the other timeline, my grandfather had lamented not learning about my abilities earlier. However, I don’t think it would have changed our family’s fate.

A few years’ notice would still have been too late. The succession line had already been solidified under Viese, and Bellezac was already grown. There was no way that an unrecognized, illegitimate granddaughter of the third-born son could have suddenly begun making changes.

To challenge the line of succession, I would need to overcome three obstacles.

First of all, I was the daughter of the powerless, third-born son, so I would have to demonstrate my capabilities to Grandfather, the patriarch. I needed to solidify my position and gain my grandfather’s absolute support.

Just because it’s a family matter doesn’t mean I have to rely solely on internal means.

I must use any means necessary.

That’s why I thought of the second-born prince, Perez—someone from outside the family who could solidify my position within it. He would be able to support me even after I became the head of the family.

Of course, I would have to help him become the crown prince.

No future emperor would refuse the help of a Lombardi. I would work to build trust at a young age and aid him in rising to the throne. We could become great friends.

Oh, now that I think about it, it was around this time.

I gazed out the window, where rain had started to drizzle.

The second-born prince’s mother, a commoner, had died on a rainy day sometime this year. Despite giving birth to the emperor’s son, she died from a lack of proper treatment, which had been caused by pressure from the empress.

After becoming the crown prince, Perez’s resentment led him to retaliate in kind when the empress fell ill. He barred all physicians from entering the empress’s quarters.

The first-born prince, Astana, had been exiled to the outskirts of the empire. This left no one to stop the crown prince, who had seized power from the ailing emperor.

It must have taken significant determination to rise from an overlooked, backroom prince to become the crown prince. It was an impossible task that required extreme resolve.

In our current timeline, Perez must have lost his mother by now and would be spending his days alone. In my heart, I dreamed of visiting to offer him comfort and establish a connection, but I couldn’t leave the estate.

It was my grandfather’s rule. Lombardi children were not allowed to leave freely until their eleventh birthday. However, limited outings were possible with the patriarch’s permission—a measure to prevent crimes targeting the young Lombardi heirs.

Just hold on a little longer.

I had no intention of sitting idly until I turned eleven. But for the moment, I needed to focus on internal family matters. My next step would be creating an opportunity to visit the palace.

With my thoughts organized, I turned another page in the book and tried to recall the order of events from my previous life.

What happened with the Lombardis around this time?

After managing the family’s affairs for several years, one inevitably learns the family history, whether they like it or not. In my case, I studied even harder because I wanted to know.

When I turned eight, something significant happened with the Lombardis.

As I was racking my brain, a soft knock and a strangely familiar voice caught my attention.

“Who is it?” my father asked.

“Is Lady Gallahan here?” the voice replied.

When had I last heard this voice?

My father tilted his head as he opened the door to the drawing room.

When I saw the face beyond the open door, I was astonished. There stood an influential businessman who had managed the Lombardi merchant guild.

After my grandfather’s death, he had left the family (like I did) to establish the Pellet Trading Company. He then developed it into one of the Lehmbruck Empire’s top five trading companies in just two years!

Clerivan Pellet had entered the drawing room.