CHAPTER 21
While Minerva was busy tutoring Aslan in preparation for the upcoming lessons with Ayla, Lloyd was also making his own preparations.
First, he needed to clear some space in Ayla’s overly packed class schedule.
Lloyd summoned Ayla’s tutor, Deborah.
“You called for me, my lord?”
Unlike most tutors, Deborah lived at the estate, so she was able to respond quickly to Lloyd’s call.
Lloyd asked,
“When does Ayla have no classes?”
Deborah answered with a cheerful smile,
“She has at least one class every day.”
Lloyd frowned at her response.
“I’m sure she had at least a couple of days off before?”
“She requested additional lessons, saying she still had much to learn.”
Originally, Deborah had been hired to teach Ayla only the bare minimum etiquette required of a noblewoman.
Since she came from a fallen noble family, there was no need to worry about her gossiping in social circles. Her manners were impeccable, making her the perfect tutor Lloyd had been looking for.
But over time, Ayla had grown increasingly eager to study and began requesting tutors for other subjects.
Lloyd, who disliked having many people coming and going in the house, struggled to find a solution before eventually deciding to entrust all lessons to Deborah and have her move in permanently.
Though she was a fallen noble, she had attended the academy, so she was capable of teaching most subjects. Ayla also took to her very well, which sealed the decision.
“What are you teaching her now?”
“Mathematics, history, literature, general studies, etiquette, and rhetoric.”
“…She’s still a child. This seems a bit excessive.”
“I thought so as well, but the young lady insisted.”
Deborah looked rather troubled.
Lloyd let out a sigh.
It was true he had adopted Ayla because of her intelligence, but he didn’t intend for her to be pushed this hard so soon.
‘It really was the right decision to ask the princess for help with tutoring.’
Lloyd didn’t want Ayla to go through the same hardships he had endured at such a young age.
He gave Deborah an order.
“From now on, clear all of Ayla’s lessons on Wednesdays. A new teacher will be taking over then.”
For a moment, Deborah’s expression stiffened.
She asked cautiously,
“Excuse me, my lord… does this mean my teaching has been inadequate?”
“That’s not it. You’ve done more than enough.”
“Then why…”
Deborah looked anxious.
After all, there weren’t many options for a fallen noble to maintain pride and employment.
Especially one with the generous housing and salary Lloyd offered—employers like him were rare.
Understanding her concern, Lloyd clarified the misunderstanding.
“I’m calling it a lesson, but really, it’s more of a playdate. Ayla seems far too mature for her age, so I just want her to spend time with someone more her age.”
“…I see.”
Deborah seemed relieved and erased the worried look from her face, smiling gently as always.
“Understood. I’ll clear her Wednesdays from now on.”
“Good. That’ll be all.”
“Yes, my lord.”
With a soft smile, Deborah lifted her dress slightly in a curtsy and left the study.
Click.
The moment she closed the door completely…
Her gentle smile twisted into a fierce scowl.
Like someone whose plans had gone awry, Deborah gritted her teeth and glared at the office door as though trying to pierce through it.
The study day with Ayla arrived.
At the agreed time, the usually quiet Fran residence received its first guest.
“Good afternoon, madam. I’ve brought Ayla.”
“Hello, madam. Hello, Aslan.”
As always, Ayla’s manners were impeccable. In contrast…
Crash! Bang!
“Aslan!”
…If only Aslan were even half as composed as Ayla. I managed a smile as I warned him,
“Aslan? Didn’t Mommy tell you not to run?”
“Oops.”
Aslan quickly covered his mouth. But covering his mouth doesn’t undo the running. I really can’t with this kid.
I placed a hand on Aslan’s shoulder and said,
“Now, greet Sir Mente properly.”
Then Aslan said something that made me want to faint.
“Hi there, mister!”
Mi–mister?! What did he just call our guest?! I quickly bowed Aslan’s head and apologized to Id.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! ‘Mister’—really? I’ve failed as a parent…”
“No, no. It’s fine. I’m used to it…”
But Id’s wistful expression said otherwise.
He didn’t look used to it at all.
Sure, once you’re married, everyone becomes a “mister” or “missus,” but that face isn’t one that deserves to be called “mister.”
I scolded Aslan,
“Aslan, say it properly!”
“Why? He is a mister.”
“You should call him Sir Mente!”
“That sounds so cold.”
Aslan pouted.
Oh please. You’re not even Korean, what do you know about ‘jeong’ (Korean emotional warmth)?
Seeing that Aslan thought he was being unfairly scolded, he sulked even more. Id waved his hand to stop me, kindly intervening.
“It’s alright. Let Aslan call me whatever he’s comfortable with.”
Ugh. I’m dying of embarrassment because of Aslan. Truly, there’s a long way to go in raising a decent human being.
“I really am sorry. Aslan, please greet Sir Mente properly.”
“Mmm. Hello, Mister Id.”
Even though Aslan still called him “mister,” Id simply laughed kindly.
“Hello, Aslan. How have you been?”
“Good!”
“Judging by that, your mom didn’t scold you too badly that day. That’s a relief.”
…Ugh. I’m so embarrassed. Aslan made the mistake, but I’m the one blushing.
Being a parent is truly no easy task.
I laughed awkwardly and spoke to Id and Ayla.
“Anyway, please come in.”
Id nodded pleasantly.
“Then, if you’ll excuse me.”
We moved to the study room.
I sat Aslan and Ayla down at their desks and said in a gentle tone,
“Now, while this is technically a lesson, I’m not going to make it too strict. So don’t feel pressured, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, Mommy!”
Both kids responded enthusiastically.
Nice. I handed a prepared test paper to Ayla.
“I made a short test to get a sense of your level, Ayla. Just take it comfortably.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, and in the study room, call me ‘teacher,’ not ‘ma’am,’ okay?”
After all, teachers should be on equal footing with their students.
I gave her a playful wink, and Ayla’s tense expression relaxed just a bit.
Then I handed a test to Aslan, too.
“Aslan, let’s start with a letter recognition test.”
“Ugh.”
“Don’t ‘ugh’ me.”
“Eeeeh…”
…Honestly, it’s hard to believe he and Ayla are both five years old. Ayla was already calmly holding her pen.
“I’ll come back in an hour.”
I flipped the hourglass and asked Id,
“Would you like some tea in the parlor while the kids take their test, Sir Mente?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Id and I left the study room and headed down to the first-floor sitting room.
But at some point, the heavy footsteps behind me came to a halt.
What is it? I naturally turned around.
Id was staring fixedly at something just past the stairs.
Gasp.
I realized what it was before he spoke.
“Is that your husband?” Id asked.
“Huh? Oh, yes. That’s right.”
He had been staring at the large portrait hanging in the foyer—our “family” portrait.
It showed a tender image of me, Aslan, and my husband sitting closely together.
Though in reality, I have no idea who that man is.
He was a fictional man, cobbled together from all the traits I liked.
Still, a noble household with no family portraits would be suspicious, so I had spent a full week preparing.
Flora, who was into painting, helped me out.
Just in case Id ever asked.
And sure enough, he did. I was glad I had been prepared.
I laughed softly and casually stepped aside to let him get a better look.
“Aslan doesn’t really resemble him, does he?”
“No, not much…”
I was so relieved Aslan looked like me and not the man in the picture.
And I brought it up for another reason, too.
“They say daughters often resemble their fathers. But both Aslan and Ayla don’t really look like him, do they?”
Flinch.
Id’s shoulders, which had just lifted a teacup, gave a small but distinct twitch.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
I knew it—there’s something more to Ayla’s past.
