A Mother's Resolve
I could convey love.
“Indeed, it seems you were attacked by bandits. I’m relieved to see Your Majesty is unharmed.”
Vais, the village chief, nodded as if convinced. Yet his hand never stopped stroking his chin. He hadn’t let go of his suspicion.
“However… Your Majesty the Grand Duchess. There is one thing this old fool’s dull mind cannot understand.”
“What is it?”
“From what you just said, you planned to rejoin the knights and return to the Grand Duke’s castle, or perhaps travel to the capital under escort… yet—”
The chief pointed outside the window with the tip of his cane, toward the village square.
“Why did the nanny named Sena completely strip the Grand Duke’s crest and all the carriage ornaments and smash them to pieces with an axe just moments ago? She even burned the fragments…”
“……!!”
The story Carla had spun was a complete fabrication she had blurted out without consulting me at all. It was an impulsive, on-the-spot excuse. And it directly contradicted the sudden actions I had taken in the square just minutes earlier to shake off our pursuers by destroying and burning every trace of the carriage.
After barely surviving a bandit attack and seeking rescue at the Grand Duke’s castle, why would we destroy the very crests that proved our identity and try to hide them? To anyone watching, it would only look like we were fugitives on the run.
The seasoned village chief Vais had precisely struck at the flaw in my little bonfire escapade. Since the entire village could be reduced to ashes if we fell out of the Duke’s favor, he had no intention of leaving even the slightest doubt.
Fuck. This old man is no ordinary geezer.
The moment I urgently tried to step forward and cover for Carla’s words, she spoke first.
“It was I who ordered it.”
Carla responded to the chief’s suspicion with perfectly calm, dignified eyes, showing not a trace of panic.
“The carriage ornaments and crest alone were quite valuable. They became prime targets for the bandits last night.”
Carla stopped patting Lucian and stared straight at the chief.
“I feared that any scattered remnants of the bandits might pursue this carriage before His Grace arrives with the knights to retrieve us. So I commanded Sena to erase and destroy anything that might draw attention to us. It was a precaution to prevent them from attacking this gracious village that has shown us such kindness. Are you concerned?”
“……!!”
Wow. Holy shit. I nearly pissed myself at Carla’s quick thinking and eloquence. She had instantly reframed my impulsive act—which she had never ordered—into the Grand Duchess’s profound consideration and brilliant strategy to protect the village. And then she counterattacked the chief with political mastery, essentially asking if he had a problem with her showing such care.
Madam, your aura is insane!! Is this the power of the Inspector General’s daughter?!
Was it the weight of her logic and grace? Chief Vais wore a dazed expression for a moment before bowing his head deeply.
“Ah… This old man failed to grasp Your Majesty’s profound intentions and harbored disrespectful suspicions. I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s grace in worrying for our village.”
Vais nodded as if convinced and finally lowered the hand that had been stroking his beard.
Whew. Thank god. We made it through the crisis.
I let out a breath of relief. Now all we had to do was rest our eyes a bit, wait for Mave to bring back a coachman and horses, and then race back to the capital.
Thinking that, I shot Carla a look of appreciation for her hard work.
“However.”
From the still-bowed head of Chief Vais came a dagger far heavier and sharper than before.
“For Her Majesty the Grand Duchess and the young heir to travel together to her family estate… and yet His Grace did not perform Land Leveling…”
The chief slowly raised his head. His aged, cloudy eyes fixed on me, then on Carla.
“I find that truly surprising. The Duke Lumiere I knew was not a man so careless.”
“……!!”
Land Leveling… That’s right!
I had completely forgotten the original story’s setting and basic military common sense of the northern Grand Duchy. The North was a rugged land filled with steep mountains, monsters, and bandit hordes. If a planned journey involving the Grand Duke’s honored guests—his legal wife and only heir—was scheduled, then without question, several days before departure, the Duke’s personal knights would be dispatched to sweep away every threat along the route and prepare the path. That was what they called Land Leveling. It wasn’t an option. It was an absolute rule.
If this had truly been a planned trip to seek childcare advice, no matter how insane Duke Lumiere was, he would never have skipped the Land Leveling procedure and sent them with only a dozen escorts.
In other words, the seemingly kind village chief Vais had known from the very first word Carla spoke that everything she said was a lie. He had simply pretended not to know, gently cornering us in circles, testing how deep our pockets of deception went. Just as expected from a chief who had protected his village for decades without official military support.
“……Chief.”
Even Carla realized the contradiction in her story. Her once-steady voice began to tremble. There was nothing left to say in her defense. Any further lies would be nothing but shallow tricks before this old, battle-hardened chief.
We’re fucked. For real this time. What do we do?
If the chief became certain of our identities and reported us to the Grand Duke’s castle? Or even if he didn’t go that far and simply drove us out of the village right now… where could we run at this hour with an empty carriage and no horses? Should I physically silence this old man? No… from a certain perspective, he’s still being hospitable… and if I did that, we’d truly become irredeemable traitors.
SLAP!!!!!
“……?!”
“……?!”
A merciless impact echoed through the chief’s inner room.
“Aigoo, you old fool!! Why are you hitting me all of a sudden?!”
Chief Vais clutched his waist and jumped up in shock. Carla and I blinked in stunned silence.
The back of the Edelweiss village chief—who had been interrogating us just moments ago—was now being mercilessly smacked by the woman standing behind him.
“Ugh, you stupid man!! I can’t live with you anymore, I swear!!”
The chief’s wife, Grandma Delma, glared fiercely as she struck her husband’s back again.
“We have honored guests in our home and you’re sitting here interrogating them?! Have you no sense at all?!”
“Hey, hey, you old hag! You can’t just hit the village chief! Everyone outside is watching!”
Vais pounded his cane against the floor in protest, looking wronged.
“I’m doing this for the village! What if the Grand Duke’s business brings trouble down on us?!”
“For the village? Don’t make me laugh!”
“What’s so funny?!”
“Of course it’s funny! Can’t you see how exhausted Her Majesty and Miss Sena look? They’re trembling from fatigue, and you’re sitting here grilling them about Land Leveling or whatever?! You still think you’re the patrol captain from your spear-wielding days, don’t you?!”
Spear-wielding? Ah, so Chief Vais had been a spearman in the Grand Duke’s patrol unit when he was young. No wonder his eye for detail far exceeded that of an ordinary village chief.
“Would you rather die by the Grand Duke or by Her Majesty, huh?!”
Grandma Delma pointed her finger at him accusingly.
“If this really is just an accident and they came here seeking shelter, then thanks to your interrogation, you’ve thoroughly offended Her Majesty, you fool! If you’re going senile in your old age, just stay in the back room and sleep instead of playing detective!”
“N-no, what I meant was—”
“Shut up! Go heat up the bathwater right now! So Her Majesty and the young lady can eat and wash!”
Crushed beneath his wife’s relentless back-smacking and merciless scolding, the once-imposing chief shrank like a beaten puppy with its tail between its legs.
“Ugh… I’m not eating dinner!”
Chief Vais pouted like a sulky middle-schooler, then stomped out, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang!
“…….”
“…….”
Only Lucian’s soft breathing remained in the room.
I stood there blankly, my brain still struggling to process what had just happened.
Wait, Grandpa… You were acting all cool and authoritative earlier, and now you’re throwing a tantrum and refusing to eat because your wife smacked your back once?
But my dumbfounded laughter lasted only a moment. In my heart, I offered Grandma Delma the most sincere, grateful bow of my life.
Still… thanks to Grandma Delma, we’re saved. For real.
Somehow, the greatest crisis—the chief’s interrogation and pressure—had been cleanly severed by Grandma Delma. We no longer needed to continue our lies and could finally catch our breath.
“Ugh, that old man will stay like that until the day he dies. Pay him no mind, Your Majesty.”
Only after kicking her husband out did Grandma Delma turn back to Carla with a warm, kindly smile.
“You must have been very startled. You’re probably hungry too. Let’s have something to eat first. I have some stew I boiled early this morning.”
At the old woman’s warm and generous consideration, Carla’s tightly frozen shoulders finally relaxed.
A short while later, atop the modest wooden table in the chief’s inner room, two wooden bowls of steaming yellow stew and thin slices of barley bread baked until crispy were set before us.
“Ogu-ogu, Grandma’s here again~.”
“Abu! Adya!”
Grandma Delma skillfully held Lucian in place of Carla, giving us space to eat while smiling benevolently.
“You must have suffered so much fleeing from those bandits. It’s just rough village fare from a mountain hamlet, so I’m not sure if it will suit your tastes, but please eat first, both of you. A full stomach clears the mind.”
“Thank you, Lady Delma.”
Carla gave a polite bow and lifted her spoon.
I stared carefully down at the yellow stew in the wooden bowl. From its color and thick consistency, it looked exactly like pumpkin porridge.
According to every cliché, noble young ladies would complain that such coarse rural food doesn’t suit their palate and only pick at it. What if our Madam has a picky appetite? She can’t afford to starve; we need her strength.
I glanced sideways at Carla as she raised her spoon. She hadn’t eaten or slept properly since being hounded by bandits last night. If the food wouldn’t go down and she collapsed here, our escape plan would fall apart.
But.
“Mmm.”
Carla carefully took a spoonful, and her eyes widened roundly. She rolled the stew gently in her mouth, savoring it, and soon a small smile bloomed on her previously stiff lips.
“It’s delicious.”
“Oh my, really? I’m so glad it suits your taste.”
Grandma Delma’s face brightened.
Carla tore off a piece of the thinly sliced bread, dipped it deeply into the stew, and continued.
“I thought it was made with aged pumpkin, but it’s actually stew made by finely grating carrots. The broth from deer bones gives it deep umami, and the sweetness of the carrots balances it perfectly. The seasoning isn’t too strong, and it feels wonderfully soothing to a weary stomach.”
Not only does it suit her taste, but how did she identify the ingredients in one bite?
It looked like pumpkin porridge to anyone, yet she tasted it once and knew it was carrot? And she even analyzed the broth base. She grew up in the capital and later lived in the Grand Duke’s castle eating only the finest delicacies prepared by top chefs. How could she instantly identify the ingredients of a humble village stew?
Or is it the opposite? Maybe her palate is so broad because she’s tried everything?
Startled, I hurriedly scooped a large spoonful into my own mouth.
“Oh.”
The moment it touched my tongue, a gentle, soft sweetness and deep savory broth filled my mouth completely. It really was carrot stew. The flavor was so excellent that it felt like the fatigue frozen inside me all night was melting away. Forgetting all shame, I began scraping the bowl clean.
Carla, apparently starving as well, set aside her usual strict noble table manners and steadily emptied both the stew and bread.
As the meal continued in a warm, harmonious atmosphere, Grandma Delma—who had been smiling kindly at Carla’s praise—gently patted the softly breathing Lucian in her arms and naturally offered some childcare advice.
“By the way, Your Majesty. It’s about time for our young master to start on solid foods.”
“……Solid foods?”
Carla paused mid-bite of her bread and asked again.
“Yes. At thirteen months, he should be learning to swallow food with some texture. Of course, the nannies at the Grand Duke’s castle would have handled it, but… since you’re heading to the capital, it might be good for Your Majesty to take care of it yourself.”
Grandma Delma continued with her advice.
“If you’ve never done it before, start by finely grating it like the carrot stew you just ate and feeding it as porridge. Boil it soft enough to mash with the tongue. Once the young master gets used to it, gradually increase the size of the chunks. Later, you can finely mince soft meat and add that too.”
“Carrots… finely grated…”
Carla set down her spoon and listened with sparkling eyes, determined not to miss a single word of Delma’s advice.
“And one more important thing.”
Grandma Delma lowered her voice and gave a particularly stern warning.
“Even if the young master throws a tantrum and refuses unfamiliar food, you must never go soft and give in by offering the breast again.”
“……!”
“No matter how young a baby is, if the mother gives in to everything, he’ll try to sit on her head. If you give in every time he cries for milk instead of eating, he’ll develop terrible picky eating habits later. When I raised my firstborn, I was too lenient and let him have his way, and even after he grew up, he still had awful food preferences!”
The veteran grandmother’s special lecture on weaning continued.
I finished my stew and watched Carla’s expression closely.
Don’t give in to everything. Don’t offer the breast…
Just yesterday morning, Carla had despaired over her inability to produce milk and even swallowed medicine in her grief. She had clutched her empty chest and nearly given up on her child.
But Grandma Delma’s practical childcare advice was like a ray of light to a mother standing at the edge of a cliff.
Life slowly returned to Carla’s wavering eyes. A spark of hope began to burn.
She might be a deficient mother who could not nurse her child with her own milk. But now Lucian was reaching the age where he needed to move on from milk to solid food.
That meant even without a nanny’s milk, if she could personally prepare delicious, wonderful weaning food with all her heart and feed it to him… she could reclaim her place as Lucian’s true mother, fully responsible for his growth.
She could convey her love.