Although she is the Empress Dowager, Lachia still oversaw the palace’s internal affairs. The Sea Palace, where the Empress Dowager had resided for generations, bore a dignified elegance befitting her status. It was adorned with dark wooden furniture, simple yet elegant tapestries, and refined wall reliefs.

In the deepest part of the palace, in the VIP room, sat Lachia, the owner of the palace, and her guest, Blanche.

Blanche, being only 3 years old, and even Lachia, who had just passed forty, would normally seem out of place in this space designed for those in the twilight of their lives. Yet Lachia naturally blended into her surroundings. Her slightly darker red hair, compared to her sons’ fiery red, resembled tinted autumn leaves, and her golden eyes were as intricate as crafted gold.

With those serene and graceful eyes, the Empress Dowager surveyed the child before her. She noted Blanche’s delicate, pretty face resembling an expensive porcelain doll, her small hands lifting a teacup, and her lowered black eyes.

“So, you’re the child named Blanche.”

Only after this observation did the Empress Dowager form her first impression of Blanche. The real-life Blanche was different from expectations and yet exactly as Melchizedek had described.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

The child was calm and composed, much like the Empress Dowager’s second son but even more polite.

“Do you like the tea?”

It was almost a rhetorical question. The tea was so bitter that even her eldest son, now an adult, detested it.

But Blanche remained composed.

“Yes, it has a very nice aroma.”

Blanche’s face held a sincere smile. She seemed like a child who, rather than naturally attracting love, was naturally adept at not attracting dislike.

“That’s good. I invited you to see the face of my child’s friend.”

The child smiled gently.

“I should have asked the Grand Duke to let me visit you first.”

Blanche’s response was unusually sharp, almost to the point where most would find it too precocious for a child.

Yet that was precisely why Melchizedek’s description was accurate. While most adults might be put off by such sharpness in a child, the Empress Dowager, as Melchizedek’s mother, could find such an unchildlike child endearing.

Was Blanche showing everyone the side they wanted to see? That’s how she won over both Liana and the exacting Melchizedek.

“There’s no need for such modesty. Would you like some cookies?”

Though she should feel about Blanche as she would a daughter, being the friend of her late-born son, the Empress Dowager oddly felt as if she were treating a granddaughter she never had.

“I’d be grateful.”

Blanche’s outstretched hand was tiny and delicate like a finely crafted doll’s. She broke the cookie into pieces small enough for her mouth.

Watching Blanche nibble on the cookie, the Empress Dowager pondered her next move. She had two options: either suppress Blanche, who had won Liana’s favor, to give the impression that she was not a significant power, or show her own fondness for Blanche, indicating that the child’s status was not solely dependent on the Empress.

If Blanche was indeed a good child, the latter option was preferable. But if she was unremarkable, the former would be better. It would be a problem for the royal family’s prestige if an unremarkable child was adored by the direct royal family.

However, after meeting Blanche, she found the child was not bad at all. Blanche was beautiful, and her manners were ingrained and refined. She was unusually well-behaved for her age and not at all fussy.
If this child is like this, then perhaps showing favor wouldn’t be too bad, especially since Melchizedek seems to like her.

“Being my son’s friend, you are like a daughter to me. Think of me as a mother and feel free to visit often.”

This would have been an unthinkable statement for Blanche if she were thirteen, and Lachia wouldn’t have been able to say it comfortably either.

However, since Blanche was only three, Lachia spoke freely, knowing the child wouldn’t grasp the weight of her words.

Yet, the child’s response was surprising. Instead of showing awkwardness or happiness, she said:

“I’m sorry for troubling the Empress Dowager with such trivial matters.”

The response to being told to think of her as a mother was an apology for causing unnecessary concern.

If Blanche were an ordinary child, and Lachia’s son a regular boy, Lachia would have laughed it off, thinking it a mix of expressions the child had picked up.

But Lachia had raised Melchizedek. At just five years old, he was capable of engaging in political discussions with her.

And he had described Blanche as a child naturally able to please adults. Indeed, she had won Liana’s favor.

So, maybe…

Lachia spoke in a more secretive tone, wondering if the child would understand.

“No, there’s no need to worry about that. I want everyone to know who Melchizedek’s mother is. It’s not unusual for a son’s friend to visit his mother.”

If Blanche understood this, she belonged in the same category as Melchizedek. If not, she was just an ordinary child.