A few days had passed since Serelith made her friend.

One day, she was playing with her friend Shyamu in her own garden. Laughter echoed across the garden. Celene, passing by, grew jealous. She didn’t like the fact that Serelith was smiling and laughing—and she was also envious that Serelith owned a garden.

She approached them and commented on Shyamu,

“Eww, how diry you are. Siswter, why are you plawying with that diry boyee? Won’t twell me you’re diry too.”

(Eww, how dirty you are. Sister, why are you playing with that dirty boy? Don't tell me you're dirty too)

The maids serving her laughed.

Serelith replied, “He is not dirty. He is my friend.”

Celene said mockingly,

“An orphwan plawying with a diry boyee. Perfwect matchh.”

(Note: She's only two years old, mispronouncing "An orphan playing with a dirty boy. Perfect match.")

Serelith responded, “Shyamu is not a dirty boy, Celene. He is my friend. He may be of low status, but unlike you and your mother, he doesn’t ridicule anyone.”

Celene got annoyed. "You meanie!”

Serelith calmly said, “Why should I? Does the truth hurt you so much that you said shut up? Or is it that you can’t bear the fact that you can’t surpass me?”

Celene burst into loud sobs. The maids surrounding her tried to calm her. The head maid—who was loyal to Marlena—stepped forward, about to slap Serelith.

But Shyamu stopped her.

Shyamu said, “If something happens to her, Lord Tharald will be furious. And you will have to bear the consequences.”

The head maid snapped, “Are you threatening me? A lowly piglet like you?”

Shyamu replied, “You’re no different from me. Take it as a threat or not—I’m stating the truth.”

The head maid raised her hand again. “You—”

Celene cried even louder. “Papa! Cry!”

She ran away, the maids following her. The head maid shot a glare at Serelith and Shyamu, but Shyamu returned the glare without flinching.

Serelith said softly, “You shouldn’t have stopped her.”

Shyamu replied, “So what—should I sit like a coward and watch her slap my friend? Impossible. You’re not eve—”

Serelith cut in, “Thank you.”

Shyamu blushed. “My pleasure.”

Meanwhile, Celene ran straight to Count Elric’s office.

“Papa!” she cried.

Count Elric was shocked to see her in tears. “What happened, my little baby?”

Celene sat on his lap and whimpered, “That girl was mean to me. She insulted me... and Mama.”

Elric was furious. He gently wiped her tears.

“Don’t worry. I’ll teach her a lesson. She’s been disobedient lately.”

Celene stopped crying and smiled. “Thank you, Papa!”

She kissed his cheek.

Elric smiled back.

But his eyes burned with anger toward Serelith. He handed Celene a chocolate.

She giggled and skipped away.

Elric called his butler.

“Summon Serelith.”

The butler bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Back in the garden, Serelith was still playing with Shyamu when she saw her grandfather. She ran to him, arms wide.

“Grandpa!”

Lord Tharald smiled. “What is my little flame doing?”

“I’m playing with my friend!” Serelith replied cheerfully.

Tharald looked at Shyamu. “You made a friend?”

Serelith beamed. “Yes!”

Shyamu grew flustered about his appearance, afraid Lord Tharald might disapprove.

But Tharald gave him a nod and patted his shoulder.

“Status doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you have a good heart. As long as you won’t hurt her”……he paused, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“You'll always be welcome here.“

Shyamu replied, “I won’t, my lord.”

Tharald said, “You seem like a good soul.”

Just then, Elric’s butler arrived and greeted Lord Tharald.

"My lady, His Grace has summoned you."