This Three-Year-Old Is A Villainess - Chapter 46
‘What should I do?’
I briefly considered using my special ability, tattling, but decided against it.
‘Without evidence, it’s too risky to confront her.’
If I claimed that she hit the maids to make me fear her, it wouldn’t make sense. What three-year-old could understand such a mind game?
‘And if I say she did it to educate the maids… Never mind.’
She’d use the same reason as an excuse.
According to the maids, Mrs. Rachel would try to look good to the higher-ups.
“Is this your first party, my dear? In that case, I should certainly help. I’ll send some of the jurisdiction’s maids.”
“I heard you’ve started a florist business. I’d feel bad just sitting around. I was planning to change the estate’s gardeners anyway.”
“Goodness, how ancient the furniture here is. I’ll at least update it a little for you.”
She spent a lot of the internal affair’s funds lavishly to gain favor.
Because of that, the budget for the annual estate expenses was shrinking, and the estate was struggling.
But the high-ranking people who had seen her favor praised her until their mouths dried up.
‘Even the soldiers.’
Since my father was a general, he paid the most attention to the military.
So, for Mrs. Rachel to be recognized in my father’s eyes, she must have taken exceptional care of the military.
Even now, looking at them:
“Oh, Mrs. Rachel! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“I know. You’ve accomplished a lot on the battlefield, haven’t you?”
“Of course! Have you been well, Mrs. Rachel?”
“Anything special? Well, I went shopping for dresses recently and got into an argument with some ruffians.”
“Oh, if you ever have such a problem, let us know! What’s the point of having a family if they can’t help you?”
“Hoho, as long as Astra’s elite troops protect you, you’re safe.”
—They seemed to get along quite well.
Amidst them, my father appeared.
He looked splendid in his uniform.
“General!”
Mrs. Rachel approached my father with graceful steps.
“May you have a safe outing. When you return, I will prepare a bath and a meal to help you relieve your fatigue immediately and—”
However, my father approached me before Mrs. Rachel had finished speaking.
“Erylotte.”
“Ywes.”
“It’s not Mondukie.”
“…Ywes?”
“It’s Daymond.”
‘What is he talking about… Oh.’
I recalled the incident in the mansion.
I had pretended to be a child and wrote my father’s name as ‘Mondukie’, right.
‘He’s bothered by that?’
I blinked, and my father continued.
“Practice until I return.”
‘Huh?’
He’s offering to supervise my education?
Usually, nobles’ education is the domain of tutors. Parents rarely get involved, so this was a clear sign of ‘interest in their child’.
‘Wow—!’
My face lit up, and I shouted.
“Ywes!”
“That’s right.”
With a smile, Father turned away.
The soldiers chuckled, and Mrs. Rachel flushed deeply, her hand trembling.
It seemed she was very embarrassed by being ignored by my father.
“I’ll be back by tonight.”
“Owkay.”
I bid farewell to Father and the soldiers.
As they left, Mrs. Rachel, who had been watching, stomped her feet and hurried back inside.
I took a seat in the heartwarming garden I had seen the night before and practiced my writing.
‘Day…mon…d…’
It looked good.
I nodded as I wrote the large letters on the paper.
I thought it should be decent even if my father came to check.
At that moment, I was nodding my head with a proud feeling.
“Why are you so slow!”
I heard a loud voice from the gardener.
I was startled and turned to the side.
The gardener was scolding an old man.
“I’ve told you to prune it a long time ago!”
The servants who witnessed the scolding whispered to each other.
“When did he ever order to prune those branches though.”
“Shh— He’ll hear.”
“Why is that guy so irritable so early in the morning?”
“He’s just venting. Mrs. Rachel isn’t in a good mood. I hear she told him not to talk to her.”
“Just as long as it’s not the old man.”
The servants clucked their tongues and passed by.
I glanced at the gardener and the old man. The gardener was scolding the old man energetically.
“After I begged to hire you as a worker, you need to have some favor for it!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The old man clutched his hat and repeatedly bent his waist.
“Clean up the bushes from now on! I’ll take a break, but don’t think about slacking off.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cole clicked his tongue, turned his back, and then, a gust of wind made the old man’s hat fly over here.
I picked up the fallen hat and approached the old man.
“Thank you, Young Miss.”
He thanked me after receiving the hat from me.
‘Huh?’
His manners were perfect.
Stepping back with his right foot, placing his left arm between his waist and navel, and bending his waist at a 45-degree angle.
I had never seen such a perfect posture, not even in the aristocracy.
