Slowly, I opened my heavy eyelids.
That long sleep, stretching from midday until the edge of dusk, had driven away every ounce of exhaustion that had accumulated within my body.
My vision remained slightly blurred.
Little by little, my awareness returned, accompanied by memories of everything that had happened over the past two days.
Strangely enough, yesterday's battle against the bandits had not left me nearly as exhausted as the long journey inside the horse-drawn carriage.
The more I thought about it, the less sense it made.
I defeated several bandits.
I dodged.
I struck.
I kicked.
My body had moved without pause.
I had even used ninjutsu.
By all rights, that should have drained far more of my strength than simply sitting motionless inside a carriage, without expending even a trace of chakra or physical effort.
Yet reality had proven otherwise.
Remaining seated for endless hours, doing nothing except waiting for the journey to end, was somehow far more exhausting.
Perhaps...
An unbearably monotonous routine could wear down a person in an entirely different way.
I let out a quiet sigh.
Enough.
There was no point dwelling on it any longer.
My hand rested against my stomach as it answered with a faint growl.
I was hungry.
Truly hungry.
But before searching for something to eat...
I should wash my face first.
My gaze drifted toward the other side of the bed.
Dorothea was no longer there.
"So that sweet little girl woke before I did?"
I blinked slowly.
Why hadn't she woken me?
Perhaps she had felt guilty about disturbing my rest.
Or perhaps she simply wished to let me sleep peacefully.
She truly was such a thoughtful little girl.
But now another problem presented itself.
I was late for my bath.
The habit Father had instilled in us since childhood immediately resurfaced in my mind.
He always insisted that we bathe before nightfall.
Not because of some lofty principle.
But simply because...
Father was extraordinarily reluctant to move about once evening arrived.
That was why he constantly reminded us to finish every task before dusk settled over the land.
Besides, without Father's spatial manipulation, obtaining enough clean water was no easy task.
The nearest water source lay quite some distance from the house.
No one wished to make repeated trips carrying heavy buckets once darkness began to fall.
Once my thoughts had completely cleared, I climbed down from the bed.
I smoothed the slight wrinkles from my clothes.
Then quietly made my way toward the bath chamber.
***
Many years had passed since Adela Handler assumed leadership of the Handler family.
It had all begun when her father unexpectedly entrusted the responsibility to her far earlier than anyone had anticipated.
Before becoming the head of the most influential merchant family in Brandenburg City, Adela had lived a relatively peaceful life.
She had always been busy.
But never to the point where every day was filled with endless complaints.
She still had enough time to enjoy the quieter moments of life.
To spend precious hours with her family.
Even to rest from time to time without allowing work to occupy every corner of her thoughts.
Yet all of that changed the moment the weight of the family rested upon her shoulders.
Work arrived in an endless tide.
As though the word "finished" simply did not exist.
Each report she completed was swiftly replaced by another.
Every decision she made inevitably gave birth to new problems waiting to be resolved.
Her moments of rest became fewer with every passing season.
There were even days when sleep itself became the only opportunity her weary body and exhausted mind had to recover.
From time to time, Marianne came to assist her daughter.
So did her father.
Whenever his duties at the Merchants' Guild concluded earlier than expected, the elderly man never hesitated to shoulder part of Adela's burden.
As one of the senior executives of the Brandenburg Merchants' Guild, his responsibilities were certainly significant.
Even so, compared with overseeing the entire Handler family and their vast trading network, his workload remained considerably lighter.
Adela released a long, weary breath.
Fatigue slowly settled deep within her chest.
Her eyelids felt unbearably heavy.
Yet the towering stack of documents covering her desk offered no opportunity for rest before every last one had been completed.
She leaned back against the wooden chair upholstered with soft velvet.
Her light brown eyes remained fixed upon the desk before her.
The study was impeccably organized.
Adela had always loved cleanliness and order.
Every document had been carefully arranged according to its proper place.
The bookshelves were lined with volumes standing in perfect symmetry.
Each writing instrument rested exactly where it belonged.
Not a single object had been left out of place.
Such meticulous order brought a small measure of peace to her mind amidst the endless demands that filled her days.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
"Mother!"
The gentle voice from beyond the door immediately broke her concentration.
Her gaze lifted from the mountain of documents.
A faint smile gradually softened her features.
Merely hearing her daughter's voice was enough to ease a portion of the weariness that had weighed upon her heart throughout the day.
"Come in, Dottie."
As Dorothea slowly walked closer, the weariness that had weighed upon Adela's heart gradually began to melt away.
It was as though the mere presence of her precious little daughter possessed a warmth no restful sleep nor a steaming cup of tea could ever provide.
Once...
There had always been a man standing faithfully at her side.
Sharing every burden.
Listening to every complaint that escaped her lips.
Bringing warmth to the countless days consumed by work, long before she became the head of the Handler family.
Now, all of it had become nothing more than memories.
Memories too beautiful to ever forget.
Yet far too painful to dwell upon for long.
Perhaps that was why, every now and then, she found herself envying her cousin.
Irene's life was so peaceful.
Her husband remained beside her, completing the beautiful tale of their love with unwavering devotion.
No matter how hard she tried, Adela could never deny those feelings.
Ever since her husband's passing, fragments of the man she had loved beyond measure slowly began to reveal themselves within Dorothea.
Her daughter had inherited part of his face.
Part of his smile.
And above all...
That soft, light-blue hair, so remarkably like her father's.
Every time Adela gazed upon those delicate strands, old memories quietly awakened within her heart.
Memories she had buried beneath countless days of responsibility.
Along with them came the longing she had tried so desperately to silence.
I miss you, my beloved. Look at her. Our little daughter has grown so much. Please... watch over her from where you are.
Dorothea stopped beside her mother.
Her sapphire-blue eyes were filled with quiet concern.
Mother looked far more exhausted than usual.
Most of all...
Her eyes.
Their usual radiance had faded, leaving only the unmistakable shadow of fatigue.
Without saying a word, Dorothea gently wrapped her tiny fingers around Adela's hand.
Warm.
Gentle.
Filled with silent affection.
She had never been very good at hiding her feelings.
She loved her mother with all her heart.
That was why the worry weighing upon her heart escaped her lips without hesitation.
"Mother... please get some rest. You'll become ill if you keep pushing yourself like this."
A tender smile graced Adela's face.
It was the same smile she always wore whenever she wished to soothe her beloved daughter.
"Dottie... Thank you for worrying about Mother. But Mother is perfectly all right."
Dorothea slowly shook her head.
Her cheeks puffed out ever so slightly.
She knew her mother was trying to comfort her with another gentle lie.
"That's not true. You always say that so Dottie won't worry."
"No, Dottie. Mother isn't lying."
Adela gently raised a finger and pointed toward her own face.
"Look closely. Mother is truly fine. I'm so happy that Dottie worries about me, and I'm grateful beyond words that my precious daughter loves me so dearly. So... don't wear such a sad little face. If my little girl keeps looking so downcast, Mother will end up feeling sad as well."
Slowly, Adela lifted her hand.
Her fingers softly brushed through Dorothea's hair with boundless tenderness.
Such a gentle touch.
So wonderfully warm.
"Mmm... Yes, Mother."
Dorothea closed her eyes for a brief moment.
That loving touch always managed to calm her heart.
Her mother's presence had long since filled every empty corner left behind by someone she had never even been given the chance to know.
From the day she was born...
She had been a child without a father.
She had never known the warmth of a father's embrace.
Never heard a proud voice calling her name.
Because of that...
She had never truly missed him.
How could someone long for memories they had never possessed?
Instead, different questions often lingered in her thoughts.
What did it feel like to be cherished by a father?
What did it feel like to have someone lift her high into the air while laughing with unrestrained joy?
Every now and then, a certain person would appear in those thoughts.
Uncle James.
To Dorothea, he embodied everything she imagined an ideal father to be.
Kind.
Patient.
Always attentive whenever she visited the Weiser family's estate.
The way James treated her was no different from the affection he showed Charlotte, Ian, Ryan, and Karina.
That unwavering kindness quietly filled Dorothea's heart with warmth.
Yet she understood one simple truth.
No matter how kind James was to her...
That affection could never come from her own father.
No amount of kindness could truly fill a place that had been empty since the very beginning.
Dorothea slowly lifted her face once more.
Looking deeply into her mother's eyes.
Then she remembered the message Grandmother had entrusted to her.
"Mother, Grandmother said not to forget that we're all having supper together later."
Adela smiled.
This time, the smile blooming upon her face was warmer and far more genuine than before.
"Very well, my dear. Mother won't forget."
Adela's gaze remained fixed upon her daughter's face.
"And what about you? Did you enjoy spending time with your big sister?"
The concern that had lingered within Dorothea's sapphire-blue eyes instantly vanished.
Their brilliance returned, glowing like a tiny spark that slowly blossomed into a warm, dancing flame.
"Ah... Dottie only played with Big Sister Charlotte for a little while. She was very tired, so Dottie stayed with her while she slept." She hesitated for a brief moment before adding, "And... Big Sister also gave me a present."
"A present?"
"Well..."
Dorothea's voice abruptly faded.
Her tiny body stiffened.
Charlotte's gentle reminder to keep the gift a secret from Mother echoed vividly through her mind.
Slowly, she lowered her head.
Her eyes avoided Adela's.
An awkward expression spread across her face, as though she had made a terrible mistake and feared her secret had already been discovered.
She had become so excited while talking about Charlotte that she had nearly let everything slip.
Watching her daughter's adorable reaction, Adela merely smiled to herself.
She had no need to ask another question.
She already knew the answer.
Candy.
Or more precisely...
Lollipops.
Charlotte was her niece.
And that girl had inherited far too many of Irene's habits.
After all, before Irene married, the two of them had spent years growing up side by side.
Adela knew her cousin far better than most people ever could.
She remembered exactly what Irene had been like as a little girl.
The things she loved.
The things she disliked.
Including her irresistible fondness for sweet treats.
That was why discovering Charlotte's love for sweets had immediately reminded her of Irene's childhood.
Mother and daughter truly were astonishingly alike.
Even their smallest habits were nearly identical.
Besides...
This was hardly the first time Adela had caught them secretly sharing snacks.
Sometimes she happened to witness it by chance.
Other times, Charlotte had been caught red-handed.
And among every little treat they secretly shared...
Candy had always remained their quiet little secret.
I know.
But I don't want them to know that I know.
As long as it was only a little candy and nothing excessive, Adela chose to pretend she had noticed nothing at all.
Deep inside, she was grateful.
Her daughter had accepted Charlotte as though she were truly her own elder sister.
Just as Adela herself had once accepted Irene.
They were not sisters by blood.
Yet the bond between them had always reached far beyond that of ordinary cousins.
They had grown up together.
Quietly filling the emptiness each carried within their hearts.
With kindness.
With affection.
With the unwavering love of family.
Irene had lost both of her parents while she was still very young.
Back then, Adela had done everything she could to ease the loneliness buried within her cousin's heart.
Now...
She prayed history would repeat itself.
Dorothea had never known her father.
But Adela hoped her daughter would receive enough love from those around her.
From Grandmother.
From Grandfather.
From her cousins.
From her elder brother.
From herself.
And above all...
From someone she could lovingly call her big sister.
Perhaps then...
The emptiness left behind by a father would not ache quite so deeply.
Amid every burden life had placed upon her shoulders, Lucas and Dorothea remained the most precious reasons for her to keep moving forward.
Even so...
There was one thought that quietly saddened her heart.
In only a few more days, Charlotte and Ian would depart for the imperial capital.
And once again, Dorothea would have to part with the big sister she loved so dearly.
Adela drew a slow, quiet breath.
Dorothea still stood with her head lowered, too embarrassed to meet her mother's eyes.
Gradually, Adela rose from her chair.
She gently took her daughter's tiny hand into her own.
In the end, she decided not to ask about Charlotte's gift.
I know.
But I don't want them to know that I know.
"Mother has finished her work. Grandfather should be home before long as well. I have a feeling he'll bring a present for Dottie."
A gentle smile graced Adela's face as she stepped out of the study that had felt so suffocating only moments before.
The instant Dorothea heard those words, her face lit up with delight.
It was as though every trace of anxiety lingering within her little heart vanished in an instant.
Brimming with excitement, she tugged eagerly at her mother's hand before lifting her tiny face.
"Really, Mother?"
For a fleeting moment...
Adela's heart skipped a beat.
The bright eyes looking up at her overlapped with the face of the man she had once loved beyond all else.
The resemblance was uncanny.
For the briefest instant, it almost made her forget how many years had already passed.
But she quietly pushed the memory aside.
She refused to become lost in the past again.
"Yes. Mother is certain Grandfather won't be returning empty-handed."
"Hehe... I can't wait for Grandfather to come home."
Adela's smile softened even further.
"Neither can Mother, my dear."
Still hand in hand, mother and daughter quietly left the study together.
The gentle warmth of the approaching evening welcomed their footsteps, carrying away the lingering weariness that had long filled the silent room.