“I’ve been waiting all this time to see you.”

When he smiled, the whole room seemed to brighten—his angelic face radiant with warmth.

“W-whoa—wait!”

Rote, momentarily mesmerized by that dazzling smile, shook her head quickly as if to snap herself out of it.

“Ahem. Anyway, the reason I called you here, Eugene.”

She began, straightening up and placing her tiny hand firmly on the dessert table, “is because I have a favor to ask.”

Her voice dropped to a secretive whisper.

“Could you… help me get a Tropezian identity?”

“A Tropezian identity?”

Eugene tilted his head, puzzled.

“Yes. There’s something I want to buy in Tropez. But I can’t do it under my current status.”

“You can’t buy it under your name?”

“That’s right. I thought maybe the Tezernet family might have a few identities that can move freely within the Empire.”

The girl flashed an innocent little smile—as if to say there was nothing dangerous about what she was planning.

But what she wanted to purchase wasn’t something one could find in an ordinary shop or small merchant’s stall. For that, she needed an imperial identity.

It wasn’t unusual for nobles, especially those involved in diplomacy or trade, to prepare local cover identities to avoid suspicion when operating in foreign territories.

And just as Rote had guessed, Eugene didn’t seem particularly alarmed by her request. He nodded thoughtfully—though not without hesitation.

“It’s possible, but…” he murmured, his expression softening. Then, shyly, he added, “Instead of going through all that trouble… can’t I just buy it for you?”

“Eugene?”

Rote blinked in surprise at the unexpected offer.

“Huh?”

Eugene nodded once more, his tone easy and light.

“Yeah. You can just think of it as a gift.”

“Mm…”

Rote pursed her lips, the drawn-out hum full of hesitation. Taking it as a refusal, Eugene hurried to explain himself.

“Wait—are you uncomfortable with it? Or do you not trust me? If that’s it, don’t worry. I promise I won’t make a mistake or pressure you or anything like that.”

“I know. You’re not that kind of person, Eugene.”

“Really?”

His face brightened immediately, hope sparking in his brown eyes. But Rote’s expression remained troubled. After a moment of quiet thought, she spoke cautiously.

“It’s just that… it might be more expensive than you think. What I want to buy is land.”

“Land?”

Eugene blinked, caught off guard—but soon a smile curved his lips.

“That’s fine. Don’t worry about the cost. My grandparents already gave me a sizeable inheritance.”

In other words, land or whatever—it’s yours if you want it.

If the Duke of Tezernet had heard that, he would have exploded—raging that his grandson was ready to throw away liver, lungs, and fortune alike for a girl.

But the duke was still buried in paperwork at the mansion, blissfully unaware. Eugene just kept smiling, radiant and sincere.

Rote, on the other hand, looked utterly aghast. She stared at him for a moment, then sighed deeply.

“I was expecting to be happy about this, but now I’m just worried.”

Eugene tilted his head.

“Worried? Why?”

Her little face was solemn, her brows furrowed with genuine concern.

“Because you’re too kind, Eugene.”

“Mm?”

“What if I were trying to scam you?” she said seriously, though she quickly added, “Not that I am!”

Eugene blinked, speechless, while Rote went on with unexpected gravity.

“If you’re going to inherit the Tezernet family someday, you have to toughen up. Do you have any idea how much land your family owns? Even for a ducal house, if you lose everything, it doesn’t take long before you end up out on the streets.”

Her tone was so matter-of-fact and adult that it left Eugene completely stunned.

Eugene blinked at the painfully sincere, yet oddly realistic advice coming from a six-year-old.

“You’ll probably figure it out when you’re older, but still—you shouldn’t just go around buying land for people because you feel sorry for them.”

“I—I’m not doing it because I feel sorry…And it’s not like I’d do that for just anyone…”

But his quiet protest never reached her ears.

“Anyway,” Rote said, nodding as if closing the matter, “I’m grateful, but this time I’ll just borrow the name.”

“…Alright.”

Eugene’s shoulders drooped. The small sigh that escaped him went unnoticed, for Rote was already lost in her own thoughts again.

Inside her little head, calculations were running at full speed.

‘I should have enough money… right?’

Her pale-green eyes gleamed with quiet determination.

She had one thing she could sell—a tiara.

It was something Elaine had returned to Selaia not long ago.

“Lady Leticia—Her Highness the Grandmother—gave this as a birthday gift to the young lady.”

The glittering tiara had indeed been a gift from Leticia, sent for Rote’s birthday. It was also something they had left behind at the manor when fleeing Cheringen.

Selaia had tried to refuse it, but Elaine had only shrugged.

“The entire Bertan fortune has been absorbed into the imperial treasury, but this piece was legally transferred to the young lady before that. It doesn’t belong to us. It’s only right that we return it. His Majesty has already approved it.”

And so, Selaia accepted the tiara and handed it to Rote, believing it belonged rightfully to her child.

‘The tiara alone is worth quite a lot, but it still won’t be enough.

Her small mind spun faster, and her round eyes darted thoughtfully.

Watching her, Eugene tilted his head and spoke up softly.

“…If you ever need help, you can tell me. I might be able to do something, you know?”

Rote lifted her head at that, the pale green of her eyes reflecting the light as she stared up at him.

Even now, he already had the face of an angel—and Rote knew very well just how breathtaking that face would become in the years to come.

‘Eugene is just too kind.’

He had always been that way—even in her previous life.

That same kindness had been what led him to show mercy even to that wicked girl, the one who had grasped for power she never wanted and destroyed everything in her path.

“…Thank you.”

Rote’s small lips finally parted, but the words she carried in her heart never followed.

‘Eugene is a good person—and someday, he’ll meet someone just as good as he is.’

That’s why she couldn’t let herself grow too used to relying on him.

“Um…”

Just as she steadied herself to speak, the door burst open.

“You two—don’t tell me you were having snacks without me again!”

Kyle’s booming voice filled the room as he strode in with long, impatient steps.

“Your Majesty…”

Behind him, the steward’s helpless tone trailed after, but the man didn’t dare lecture his king—not when Eugene and Rote were among the few people before whom Kyle could still act like a boy.

“In any case, please do it for me.”

Rote whispered quickly to Eugene before Kyle could reach them.

“…Alright.”

Eugene hesitated, forcing a shy smile. It seemed his heart still had a long way to travel before reaching her.

⭕ ⭕ ⭕

“Lady Tran, Chief Aide Petos sent word that he’ll be late today due to a meeting.”

“Alright, thank you.”

At Emma’s report, Selaia nodded. The maid exited quietly, and a short while later, Selaia closed the book she’d been reading.

“It’s been so long since Elaine wasn’t beside me—I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

She murmured softly, stretching her arms above her head.

For the past several days, her time had been entirely filled by either Elaine or Rote. Now, with a sudden pocket of quiet, she felt strangely adrift.

‘Rote’s gone off to see Eugene, too…’

As she was lost in thought, a soft breeze drifted in through the open window. The cool air brushed against her skin, fresh and brisk enough to make her shiver slightly.

“…A little chilly, perhaps.”

Selaia rose, closing the window, and after a brief hesitation, picked up a shawl. A short walk in the garden would help clear her head, she thought.

What she hadn’t expected in the least—was to be caught in this situation.

“May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, my beautiful lady?”

“Ah, well…”

Selaia blinked, caught off guard, her gaze flickering between the man’s face and the ornate uniform he wore.

“As you may have guessed, I am Maxim Anbeck, knight of the Imperial Guard under His Majesty the Emperor of Tropez.”

Noticing her eyes wander briefly to the emblem embroidered over his chest, the man drew his shoulders back slightly, as if to give her a better view.

“Yes… Sir Anbeck.”

She murmured, sounding less than enthused. Her eyes darted aside.

‘Anbeck… the viscount’s house? That sounds vaguely familiar.’

The encounter had been entirely by chance—she had only been walking through the royal garden when she came face-to-face with the man who was unmistakably one of the Tropez envoys.

“I assure you, I don’t usually approach women this way. This is… the first time.”

Maxim scratched the back of his neck as he spoke, clearly trying to justify himself.

Since Selaia was wearing a simple house gown with no jewelry or adornment—meant for a quiet stroll—he had likely mistaken her for one of the palace attendants working in Teian’s court.