This is another part where reader as Clopeh Sekka though another post won't hurt, its your childhood wreaking havoc on the nobles since young, and that is still long before the main events starting so why not go and have fun!
Might as well enjoy it while last~
Let's Start! Wait—Wrong person!
.・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :- .・゜-: ✧ :-
Everything people said about the boy—every rumor, every whisper—still lingered in the halls of the Sekka estate.
The miracle, the melted lake, the blessings of the goddess… all of it followed Clopeh Sekka from the moment he entered the world.
But none of that mattered as much as what Rock Sekka saw with his Two own eyes.
After Clopeh birth, the duchess grew weaker day by day. At first, everyone believed it was simply the strain of childbirth, something she would recover from in time. But her strength slipped away quietly, like snow thawing under a rare warm breeze.
Before Clopeh reached the age of five, she passed away, leaving behind only her final wish—that her son would be happy in the future.
Rock carried that wish with him. He guarded it like something sacred.
Clopeh grew quickly. Faster than any ordinary child.
He crawled sooner than expected, walked with steady steps long before he should have, and possessed sharp, alert eyes—like a small snow serpent always watching its surroundings. With his pale skin, white hair like fresh snow, and light green eyes, he embodied the Sekka household legacy more strikingly than any heir before him.
Bearing uncanny resemblance to their ancestor, the first Sekka.
But his appearance was only the beginning.
Language, etiquette, swordsmanship—anything placed before him, he learned almost quickly. It was as if he had been born with a purpose already set, something pushing him to grow beyond the limits of ordinary childhood. Watching him was both awe-inspiring and unsettling.
Even after his mother death, Clopeh continued to thrive.
He did not falter, did not break.
In moments, Rock thought the boy carried traces of her—the same quiet determination, the same gentle presence.
And to ensure his wife wish and son happiness, Rock need to focus on the present.
Because as the years passed, it became clear that Clopeh Sekka was… odd. Unique.
A child who did not quite fit into any box the nobles tried to put him in.
His brilliance alone was enough to make some nobles uneasy. A boy learning faster than normal child should be, carrying the Sekka bloodline, and born under a miracle? It was the perfect recipe for jealousy.
Whispers spread through noble gatherings, hushed complaints about Rock “unnatural” child or how too perfect the heir looked. Some feared what he might become, like the first Sekka. How the ancestor go into madness and afraid Clopeh would follow that path.
others simply didn’t like the idea of a boy outshining them before he could even hold a proper conversation.
But Clopeh handled it all in the most unexpected way.
A way that Rock had never seen anything like it, how his eight year old son simply acts like one while dissing nobles adult left and right.
The boy, armed with intelligence far beyond his age, chose to use it in the most ridiculous ways imaginable.
If a noble tried to test him with complicated political questions, Clopeh would answer flawlessly… then immediately follow it by pointing out something absurd about them.
Once, noblewoman tried to subtly insult the boy motherless upbringing, only for Clopeh to calmly reply, “You must be very lonely if you spend all your time thinking about other people families.”
That one left red-faced and close to tears.
Rock would sit there in silent horror and pride, unsure whether to scold his son or praise him.
Clopeh never raised his voice, never threw a tantrum (at least a normal child tantrum)—he simply had a talent for slicing through adult pride with blunt, sharp honesty, leaving nobles questioning their entire lives afterward.
Even worse, Clopeh seemed to enjoy it.
He would smile childish, eyes glinting like a mischievous winter fox, and Rock knew—knew—the boy had done it on purpose. That his son do it not because the usual blunt innocent or curious child word.
And yet, even through the chaos, Rock felt relief.
Clopeh might be strange, might be unpredictable, but he was strong. Strong enough to survive noble politics, even at eight years old.
Maybe that was his mother gift or Maybe that was the goddess blessing.
But the Sekka household just chide it… that was simply Clopeh Sekka being Clopeh Sekka.
And that's happened more than Rock really wish it, because of his son boldness to those who opposed the Sekka household is more open with the hostile.
Knowing that the child won't be easy opponent nor easy to be manipulate (of course not on Rock protective watch).
Sure this make Rock more easy to see and protect not just his son but the Sekka Household too, but that means his headaches is two time more worse and a heart attack every time his son pull one of his many stunt.
Clopeh Sekka just had a talent—an unbelievable, terrifying talent—for outsmarting grown nobles while looking completely innocent about it. It wasn’t even intentional malice. (Is it?)
He simply… existed, thought, and spoke differently from other children.
And unfortunately for the nobles, he spoke too clearly for his age.
One afternoon, during a tea gathering, a baron leaned close to Rock and whispered loudly enough for Clopeh to hear the conversation.
“Your son is very… spirited. Perhaps too spirited for someone meant to inherit such a serious household.”
Clopeh turned from his teacup, blinking. “But Baron, you drink three cups, two cakes and ten cookies more than everyone else. Aren’t you the one with a spirit problem?”
Rock pressed a hand to his forehead.
He added, with absolute politeness “I sincerely apologize if my existence has inconvenienced your liver.”
The room fell dead silent. A tea cup cracked somewhere in the back as a maid tried not to laugh.
Another time, a noblewoman leaned down with a fake smile and said “Little Clopeh, you must learn to behave. Nobles need proper manners.”
Clopeh nodded. “Yes, madam. So when will you start learning them?”
“You said nobles need proper manners. I am still learning, but you are already old.” His eyes went soft with concern.
“Shouldn’t you be better at it by now?”
The noblewoman fled the hall like a ghost had grabbed her ankle.
But the most iconic incident happened at a political meeting—a place where children normally stayed far away. Clopeh was only there because Rock couldn’t find a babysitter willing to deal with him for a moment and his trust aides is doing some important mission.
A Marques, annoyed by the boy presence, sneered “Why bring your son? This is a place for adults.”
Clopeh looked up from the book he wasn’t actually reading “My apologies, Marques. I didn’t realize you were aiming to be included.”
The marquess blinked. “Included? In what?”
Clopeh tilted his head, perfectly innocent.
“You seemed so emotional I thought you were closer to my age.”
Rock inhaled sharply. Several nobles had to turn away to avoid laughing. The Marques expression went from red to purple.
Clopeh, oblivious in appearance only, added gently “But don’t worry. I believe in your potential.”
The room erupted—quietly, painfully, with suppressed wheezes and trembling shoulders.
For all his innocence—or whatever version of innocence this was—Clopeh had a terrifying way of turning noble politics on its head.
He remained a polite, terrifying little white snake of a child—brilliant, blunt, and utterly impossible to deal with.
But for all the mess his son bring?
Rock proud of him for standing up and love just the way he is.
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