LLTEEFM 15

#015. Thank You for the Flowers You Sent

Perhaps it was thanks to the physician sent by the Empress, or maybe the poison had simply run its course — but its aftereffects didn’t even last three full days.

“Good thing you recovered quickly.”

Maybe that’s why the Grand Duke, who had sent a mountain of flowers, only showed up after I’d gotten out of bed.

“Thang yew foh yur cowncern.”
(Thank you for your concern.)

After offering a polite reply that matched the polite visit, I remembered there was one more thing I had to mention.

“I ree-ceev’d da flowuhs yew sent. Thangk yew.”
(I received the flowers you sent. Thank you.)

“Oh, those? That was just for show. Don’t think too much about it.”

If it was just for show, I wished he’d chosen a simpler way to express it. But it felt wrong to say that to a five-year-old, so I stayed quiet.

“Don’t make that face. If my sister-in-law hadn’t intercepted them, I would’ve taken care of the aftermath.”

I must’ve failed to hide my expression. It wasn’t anger, but some unintended emotion had clearly shown through.

Trying to play it off, I put on an innocent face as if I had never meant to hide anything.

“Wuhs dat for show too?”
(Was that for show too?)

“If you want to call it that, sure.”

The Grand Duke shrugged.

“I was going to use the cleanup as an excuse to send you some people.”

“Oh…”

Manpower — that was exactly what I needed. It was also what the Empress had offered. But the Grand Duke knew that?

Even though he had never visited my palace?

“Suh yew kneow?”
(So you knew?)

“You could tell just by looking at the staff allocation chart. There were way too few people for a palace that size.”

He casually waved his hand in front of my wide-eyed face.

That gesture wasn’t something you’d expect from a five-year-old, but then again, neither was anything else about him.

Why would a five-year-old even be looking at staff allocation charts? He wasn’t even the one managing the palace household.

“For the record, my sister-in-law… well…”

It was the first time the Grand Duke hesitated in front of me. I was intrigued — what was he trying to say?

“…She’s not really suited for detailed work like that. My mother’s been overseeing it instead. I only happened to see it while paying her a visit.”

That entire explanation was suspicious in every way. Would the Empress really hand off her rightful authority over the inner palace just because she wasn’t “suited for detail”?

And you just happen to “accidentally” see a staffing chart during a casual visit?

The only thing I found believable was that the Empress Dowager was the one managing the household.

“I see…”

The Grand Duke seemed to notice the doubt in my voice. But he didn’t call me out on it — perhaps even he thought it was hard to believe.

“Anyway, that’s why I figured you needed more help. But if I just handed it over, it’d seem… too mature, right?”

So his logic was: give me an over-the-top gift, wait for me to struggle with it, and then use that as a pretense to send additional staff — because that would make him seem more like a child?

Honestly, just saying, ‘I happened to see you were understaffed, so I’ll send help’ would’ve been more childish than this whole convoluted plan.

“That’s why I needed an excuse. I never start something I can’t clean up, so don’t be scared.”

Is that kind of cunning innate? I was left speechless by the Grand Duke’s awareness, judgment, and tact — all of which were unimaginable for a five-year-old.

Even His Majesty, who had excelled at this sort of thing, might not have been that sharp at five.

As I stood there too stunned to flatter or act, the Grand Duke calmly shifted topics like nothing had happened.

“So the flowers were just a means. The real gift is the Jasper Palace, where you’ll be moving soon. I even assigned five gardeners there — it’s going to be quite a sight.”

…I never asked for flowers. I never even said I liked them. I just once said I wanted to be buried in them. Why is everything so extreme?

I briefly considered saying I preferred a peaceful atmosphere instead, but it was already too late.

“Wuhs dat also Her Majesty’s idea?”
(Was that also the Empress Dowager’s idea?)

“I did borrow Her Majesty’s help, yes.”

He admitted it easily, so I asked another question.

“Yew seem close. Are yew stayin’ in the palace becuz of Her Majesty?”
(You seem close. Are you staying in the palace because of the Empress Dowager?)

Okay, I’ll admit it. That was a cheap attempt to probe for information. I wanted to double-check if the conclusion I drew from the Empress was right — using the Grand Duke’s side as confirmation.

And yes, I could’ve been more subtle. But honestly, I’d just been too overwhelmed by how insightful the Grand Duke had been.

Too calculating isn’t childlike. A few gaps here and there would help me pass for just a clever kid.

Maybe the Grand Duke thought so too, because instead of looking suspicious, he just chuckled.

“No, I’m not staying in the palace because of Her Majesty. It’s because of my brother.”

A mischievous glint appeared in his eye as he looked at me and asked:

“Didn’t you hear it from my sister-in-law?”

So he’s trying to probe too — like I did. It was such an obvious move, but it would’ve fooled any three-year-old just clever enough to hold a conversation.

So I played along.

“Yup. She sed yew’re like a son.”
(Yup. She said you’re like a son.)

“Exactly. I’m practically their child. And you know how children shouldn’t be separated from their parents.”

I knew what he meant, but… his real mother was still alive, and hearing him call his brother and sister-in-law his “parents” was somehow unsettling.

Maybe I felt that way because… I understood. I, too, had once been a “child prodigy” who tried to please those I viewed as parent-like figures.

But that was more than half a century ago. And now, I didn’t have the time to dwell on those memories.

So rather than empathizing, I focused on what I’d learned.

The Grand Duke really was the heir — only lacking the official title of Crown Prince. That’s why he still lived in the palace instead of the Grand Duchy.

Yet despite that, he was only made Grand Duke, while the Empress was not entrusted with the inner palace. That duty belonged to the Empress Dowager.

What a mess. There’s not a single normal part of this family.

“So? Did that clear up your curiosity?”

As unpleasant as it all was, I did get the information I needed. I gave him a polite bow.

“Yes, thangk yew.”
(Yes, thank you.)

“Really?”

Suddenly, the Grand Duke questioned my sincerity. I had said “thank you” multiple times already. Why now?

“Yes. Rilly.”
(Yes. Really.)

I just nodded calmly — there was no turning back.

“In that case, could you personally host a small tea party to introduce yourself?”

“Me? Persnally?”
(Me? Personally?)

I was surprised for two reasons. First, that he was asking me to host it myself, and second, how he asked.

If the Grand Duke wanted me to host a tea party, he could’ve just ordered it. If he wanted to make a deal, he could’ve used the Jasper Palace or the gardeners.

I had thanked him so many times — he had plenty of favors to “cash in” on. But instead, he answered my probing question and then brought up the tea party as a favor in return.

It wasn’t the behavior of a five-year-old or a typical powerholder. Especially considering he didn’t even like me that much.

“We could have my sister-in-law prepare it, sure. But since we’re also unveiling Jasper Palace, it’s better if you host it — to show you’ll be living there from now on.”

Wow. I’m not even a citizen of this Empire, and they’re throwing a party just to show where I live?

Whoever planned this clearly had a personal agenda. It couldn’t be the Grand Duke — maybe the Empress, or the Empress Dowager?

“Okay. I unnerstand.”
(Okay. I understand.)

Even though I understood the real purpose, I nodded willingly. Refusing wouldn’t change anything — and this would be a good chance for Tula to learn how to host events.

In my past life, I wasn’t a host but a coordinator — but guest reception is the same either way.

“Good. We’ll pick the guest list. Everyone attending will be kids my age who haven’t entered society yet, so don’t worry.”

…Children, huh. To me, emotional kids are often harder to deal with than rational adults — so that wasn’t exactly comforting.

But I accepted the event for Tula’s sake, not to make friends. So I just nodded.

“Yes.”

Apparently satisfied, the Grand Duke made a few more remarks about the party before rising to leave.

“Well, we’ll iron out the details after you move to the new palace. Just giving you a heads-up now so you can prepare.”

“Thangk yew foh thinkin’ of me.”
(Thank you for thinking of me.)

That “consideration” was going straight to Tula. From today onward, she would start learning — the hard way — how to host a tea party.