By Zephyria 
Titi always woke up at six.
There were occasional days when she woke up at five in the morning, but it wasn’t a frequent occurrence.
When the child, who had been sleeping soundly in the next room, woke up and began to rustle, I would give Ruben a tight hug to announce the morning. I would kiss him, stroke his hair, and cuddle him in my arms until he was fully awake; only when Ruben began to push against my chest with a smile would I go to tend to the child.
Titi usually waited patiently, playing with the doll she held while sleeping until I arrived, but occasionally, she would rush in from the early morning and fling open the bedroom door where Ruben and I slept. Then, the three of us would lie side by side and talk about what date it was, what day of the week it was, and what dreams we had the night before.
At six-thirty in the morning, the whole family washed their faces and brushed their teeth. Standing before a large mirror with a three-minute hourglass flipped over, brushing our teeth in a row, I couldn’t help but smile.
I was a person for whom a single bar of soap was enough, but Ruben spent quite a long time on his morning grooming.
Titi, unable to bear even a moment of boredom, would set out on a patrol of the mansion during the time Ruben finished washing and preparing—that is, before breakfast. The child, who found the mansion fascinating every single day despite seeing it daily, often peeked into entrances where she wasn’t allowed—the kitchen, the martial arts training ground, the warehouse, and so on—and would frequently be brought back, dangling from my hand.
At seven in the morning, we had breakfast.
Breakfast was always shared by the three of us: me, Ruben, and Titi. At this time, Ruben would set the day’s tasks for Titi and let her know whether he would be coming home early or late.
After eating, Titi and I would go out together to see Ruben off until he boarded his carriage for work.
Once Ruben was gone, I worked in my office, and Titi sat in a corner of my office to do her studies for the day. Yes, she studied.
As soon as Titi had been out of the egg for 48 months, Ruben began giving her weekly homework.
Imperial language, Divine Speech, mathematics, economics, and social studies. The theory notebooks, designed for her to study each of the five subjects for ten minutes a day—totaling 50 minutes—were made by Ruben himself. The content and volume were well-tailored to the child’s level, but for a child who hated sitting still, there was no greater torment.
She had to solve ten problems every day, but she would often solve only eight and then claim it wouldn’t work, saying she would do the rest tomorrow, pushing them back bit by bit.
She would act spoiled, closing her eyes tight and claiming she couldn’t see anything, or throw a fit, insisting she would solve the problems while sitting on my lap or shoulder.
Ruben knew her well, but he said it was fine to let it slide as long as I helped her with the homework. He promised that as long as the child completed the designated amount for the week when he checked it himself, he wouldn’t scold her.
Since he explained that this process was also a form of training to cultivate a sense of responsibility by giving her hardships she could overcome, I simply went along with it.
Because of this, Titi would throw a fit all day on Fridays, when Ruben would check her homework after returning from work. Whether it was playtime or mealtime, she would clutch her worksheets and sigh deeply as if facing a formidable arch-nemesis; it was incredibly cute and pitiful.
At twelve noon, we had lunch, and afterward, she would hold my hand and go for a walk.
The walking paths of the Duke’s garden and the greenhouse were Titi’s primary living spaces.
Titi was quite perceptive. When walking with Ruben, who frowned upon her playing in the dirt, she behaved and walked with light, dainty steps, but it was different when she walked with me.
The little one would catch ants, follow lizards, and play until she was covered in dirt. On rainy days, she insisted on stepping in every single puddle, and on clear days, she would climb walls or trees.
Occasionally, she would make a fuss about picking flowers to make a flower necklace. Unlike Ruben or Marianne, I wasn’t dexterous, so I couldn’t make a proper flower crown or necklace. However, Titi loved it even if it was just a clump of crushed flowers.
Because of this, during the current season when many flowers bloom, her hands and clothes were always mottled with stains.
After playing, washing up, and taking a short nap, three in the afternoon was snack time.
The child’s snacks were mainly pieces of fruit or vegetables. Because Ruben strictly limited the menu, fearing the child would be accustomed to sweetness too early, I too had started seeking sweets less often lately.
Ruben, who laughed and teased me, saying my palate had become that of an adult, would occasionally pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth in the bedroom. Though I thought it was a silly thing to do, I accepted it gladly, grateful for the sentiment.
After snacks, I would leave the child with Benjamin and attend to the affairs of the estate.
Titi had no nanny. Once my husband and I realized that an ordinary human could not withstand Titi’s strength, we gave up on finding a nanny. Instead, we brought in Benjamin as Titi’s direct escort knight.
While Benjamin was a very trustworthy talent, it was largely thanks to the fact that he volunteered.
Benjamin was someone who would lose his composure and be completely captivated whenever a dragon was mentioned. According to Marianne, on the day Titi was born, he was so moved that he wept quietly by himself. It was funny and heartwarming that such a large man was so prone to tears.
Having become her direct escort knight, Benjamin said this the day he first saw Titi’s face:
“I take back what I said then.”
“What did you say?”
“About the Pink Dragon.”
At those words, we—who had instantly become like young teenagers—laughed heartily. It was a warm, long-lasting memory: Ruben, not knowing the reason, cutely pestering him to explain; Benjamin, struggling because Ruben had become stubbornly sulky; and Marianne, bursting into laughter.
Anyway, around this time, Titi and Benjamin usually engaged in art or music play.
Whenever I finished work and returned at six in the evening, Titi would brag about the drawings she had made that day, but out of ten drawings, barely one was recognizable.
I could at least recognize Asdel’s drawings from long ago, but I don’t know why Titi’s are so hard to decipher.
No, that’s not it. Actually, I knew why. When Asdel drew, he used several colors for one mass. However, Titi painted everything within one mass the same color.
Perhaps it was because she was even younger than Asdel was then, or perhaps she inherited my lack of an eye for visuals. Titi’s desired symbolic colors changed daily. The “me” she drew was mostly pink or blue, but sometimes it was gray or brown depending on the color of the clothes I wore that day. There was even a day she assigned me yellow simply because I had eaten cheese.
For that reason, if I failed to correctly identify her drawing and made her cry, I would feel completely drained.
If Ruben returned home early, we had dinner with him; otherwise, Titi and I had dinner together.
If Ruben’s return was further delayed, I would go out to the main entrance of the house with the child and linger, waiting for him. When Ruben returned, we spent family time together, and at nine in the evening, I put the child to sleep.
I had not yet taught Titi the sword.
It wasn’t that I didn’t covet Titi’s future, given her exceptional martial physique, but having reached the Life-Death Realm, I knew there was a time for everything. There was no need to force a sword into the hands of Titi, who was born into a world where ascetic training wasn’t necessary and already possessed immense talent for magic.
Of course, I was also afraid that if the current Titi were to hold a weapon, an accident twice as large might occur…
Regardless, as Titi’s daily routine was regular and plain, my routine of caring for her was also regular and peaceful.
It was even more so because there was no need to oppose Ruben’s request, as he believed consistent living habits were important for giving the child a sense of stability.
And today, during Wednesday’s breakfast.
In front of a round table of a size suitable for our family of three, Ruben spoke in a deeply sorrowful voice.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to come home for a week starting today.”
“What? Is there something so busy in the middle of summer?”
“Yeah. A few days ago, there was a localized conflict between the Viscount Balmoren and Baron Leviere. It ended quickly, but it seems the second son of the Leviere family suffered a serious injury, which became an issue.”
“Wait, didn’t you say those two families had an engagement a few months ago?”
“It’s a matter of passion following a political marriage. Normally, I wouldn’t even get involved in such cases, but unfortunately, the eldest son of Viscount Balmoren holds a professor position at a local academy in the Kiadris Duchy, and a disaster occurred when he tried to cover things up using that meager power. I’ve decided to hold a summary trial for punishment and inspect the families of all the local academy professors.”
“…Hmm.”
Because the empire is large, various problems erupt in unexpected places.
As the Emperor, it was proper for Ruben to live in the Imperial Palace. However, there were too many eyes in the palace for it to be a suitable place to raise Titi.
Because he did not want to be separated from his family, Ruben endured a one-hour commute each way, living between the Imperial Palace and the Duke Ernhardt residence.
Consequently, when urgent matters arose, he would immerse himself in work while eating and sleeping at the palace.
Among those, political marriages were one of the steady causes of problems not only in the Sierran Empire but across the continent. After entering a marriage without love to gain power or wealth, people begin to compare themselves to those around them who have fallen in deep love, and with just one wrong step, they become the protagonists of a tragedy.
A similar thing has happened again. To think the Emperor is looking over the problems of landlords in a distant estate. This is not such a small country compared to the Central Plains, so how can this be?
Ruben’s kind and delicate heart felt truly amazing and wonderful.
“What is a passion matter?”
While I was admiring him anew, Titi’s bright voice cut in.
“A passion matter is when one adult likes or dislikes another adult, and their feelings get tangled, leading them to have bad thoughts and fight. Titi will understand when she becomes an adult later.”
“Hmm. That’s a bad thing, then?”
“That’s right. That’s why Daddy is going to resolve the bad thing. It’s a very difficult task, so I think it will take a long time.”
“I see… Daddy, hang in there! Titi will cheer for you!”
“If Titi eats all her olives without leaving any, I think Daddy will get some strength.”
“…Ugh.”
Titi was exceptionally unskilled with vegetables.
According to Spiritus, dragons are not creatures that specifically must eat meat. He said that as long as they are given an appropriate amount of food, they grow by absorbing the mana of the atmosphere on their own.
However, Ruben argued that showing a preference for specific foods could act as a weakness, and since Titi must live as a human among humans, her palate should be trained early to establish good eating habits and quantities.
I wondered if Kate had taught Ruben the same way.
While I was lost in thought for a moment, Titi roughly stabbed an olive on her plate with a fork and shoved it into her mouth. She frowned deeply as if eating something she absolutely hated, chewed with puffed-out cheeks, and then swallowed. Then, she asked Ruben:
“Do you have strength now?”
“…Yes. A lot, a whole lot of strength. Thank you, Titi.”
Seeing the look of profound emotion and touch in Ruben’s eyes made me feel a mix of laughter and mischief.
Ruben was still someone who could not fall into a deep sleep unless he was in my arms. It was obvious what state of mind he was in when announcing his overnight stay, which made me feel quite sorry for him.
So, I too gathered my share of olives on the plate and swallowed them all at once. Seeing me chew and swallow a handful of olives, Titi immediately let out a grumbling sound. She even waved her fork threateningly.
“Don’t copy meee!”
“How about it, Ruben. Do you have more strength?”
“Ahaha! What is this. Mika, you already like olives anyway.”
“Still, I ate this much all at once!”
I leaned toward Ruben with a playful air. The laughing child reached out and stroked my hair as if rummaging through it.
We had become accustomed to stroking and touching one another. As I rubbed my head within his gentle hand, Ruben burst into a clear laugh once more.
“Yes, I have strength. Thank you, Mika. I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes. I’ll look after the house and Titi, so please go without worry. And get some sleep.”
“Yeah, I will.”
“I’ll look after the house and Mika! Go without worry.”
“Ahaha! Yes, I will. I love you both very much.”
* * *
After Ruben left, surprisingly, Justitia was a very good child all day.
She did her homework without procrastinating and ate her meals very well. Even during walks, she didn’t climb her favorite tree.
I was so curious that I asked her why she wasn’t climbing the tree today, and her answer was a masterpiece.
“I’m eating olives right now.”
“Eating olives?”
“Daddy Ruben is having a hard time today. I want to give him more strength.”
“…Ah.”
What should I call this emotion that tugs so tenderly at my heart? Unable to endure it, I suddenly pulled the child into a hug.
Titi patted my shoulder with her small hand and rubbed her forehead against my temple, whispering affectionately. Just as Ruben often did for Titi.
“Mika Daddy, hang in there too. You have Titi.”
When did she grow so much?
I wish the child would grow just a little slower.
Every thought produced by this wise and clever child was sparkling, beautiful, and poignant.
Titi remained so good and quiet the next day that I almost felt sorry.
It was the same when she went to bed at night and when she greeted me in the morning. Until a few months ago, Titi would throw huge tantrums and act spoiled on days Ruben was gone, completely draining a person’s energy. She was so quiet that it actually became upsetting.
Even when I entered the playroom to take the child from Benjamin, the atmosphere was very different from usual.
Benjamin was always someone who couldn’t take his eyes off Titi, looking at her with a very gratified expression. I was puzzled for a while as to why he had such a reluctant look on his face and was standing up before I had even arrived.
As expected, Benjamin spoke in a serious voice.
“Today, Her Highness Justitia… said some strange things. She’s been lacking energy all day.”
“Hmm?”
“Well… Sigh… I don’t believe it’s actually true, but Your Majesty, as a friend, I advise you that misunderstandings are best resolved quickly. I’ll watch over Her Highness for a moment, so it would be best if you went to the palace right now.”
“…What? Misunderstanding…? The palace? Me? Why would I?”
“Why? Are you asking because you don’t know? Even though I don’t have children yet, I know that one shouldn’t show such a side in front of children. Please go resolve it quickly.”
“…I really don’t know…? No, what did Titi say?”
“…”
Benjamin shut his mouth tight and glared at me.
I stood there dazed, completely bewildered and appalled, before picking up Titi, who was lying on the floor scribbling with a black colored pencil on a large piece of paper.
“Titi. Tell me. What did you say to Sir Philodendron?”
Titi had a very sulky expression. Her pouting lips were pointed like a chick’s, looking exactly like Ruben. The child murmured weakly.
“I just said that Daddy Ruben went out because of a passion matter and isn’t at home.”
“…!”
I spent eight minutes that felt like eight hours resolving the misunderstanding.