Chapter 16

From a young age, Marianne never ceased to surprise me.

She learned to read quickly, and after that, she began to devour knowledge with a terrifying intensity.

When she was four, about a year after she learned to read, she begged to use a dictionary. Her father allowed her to use the expensive dictionary on the condition that she use gloves, and from morning till night, she clung to the dictionary.

Soon, she could read and write difficult words, and began to speak words that were not fitting for her young appearance with her unsteady tongue.

One time, she showed interest in the seashell buttons I was storing in a glass bottle. I thought, "Girls like buttons, don't they?" But she arranged the buttons with intense focus, grouped them, and thought deeply, counting them and writing something on a piece of paper.

"Mommy, look!"

She happily spread out a multiplication table.

Multiplication is something fifth graders learn in school, and it's something that eleven-year-olds struggle with even when taught by a teacher. Yet, my four-year-old daughter had managed to compile it on her own.

After a while, she said, "If we use that table, we can do calculations with even larger numbers much faster!"

My husband was educated entirely by a private tutor at home until he went to a higher school. He listened to Marianne's story with a smile, saying, "What a smart girl," without being particularly surprised, as he had also entrusted Katarina's education to a private tutor and the school.

But I, who had seen my younger siblings study, knew that this was far from normal. When I consulted my parents by letter, they came flying over.

After playing with their daughter for two days, my parents, with serious faces, told me, "You need to steel yourself."

"If you raise her like a normal child, you'll crush her. She will do unexpected things and say things that make no sense. But don't laugh at her. Don't brush her off. As long as it's not dangerous, let her do what she wants to do.

When she starts interacting with other girls, she will surely be criticized.

You must be the parent who recognizes and encourages her. Make your home a place where she can find peace. Be prepared to be criticized along with her."

And with that, they went home.

Everything my father pointed out became reality. My daughter, who is interested in everything and continues to be passionately engrossed, was both fun and anxiety-inducing to watch.

When she said she wanted to go to the Royal Library, I took her there until she said, "That's enough." She read not only books but also past laws and royal decrees, and one day suddenly said, "I don't want to go anymore." I thought, "That's just her personality," and stopped going.

When she first entered school, she said she wanted to investigate what large people ate to grow so big.

In the process, she met orphans and said, "They don't get enough food, and they lack meat and eggs, which is why they are so thin and short. I want to raise chickens. I want to improve their diet. I want to create a system where orphans can earn a living by raising chickens."

Indeed, my father had foreseen this.

Normally, one would think, "I want to give food or money to the poor children."

At the ladies' tea parties, the farm was mocked and criticized, but I laughed it off. Now, the sweets made and sold from the farm are popular even among the nobility.

This time, she wants to promote buckwheat to prepare for droughts. I hope it goes well.

Not only my husband but also the gardener Tom and the head chef Sam are helping, which is a great support.

When we bake cakes and pies together, it's fun and comforting, but even then, she thinks deeply, holding a fork and examining the cross-section, saying, "When the dough rises, it means something inside is expanding. I wonder what it is."

What kind of life will she lead in the future?

Will her intelligence be accepted by men? Will she be seen as arrogant and troublesome, or lacking in charm?

I might be worrying too much, but I think it would be good to prepare assets in case she chooses to live without getting married.

Yet, she laughed and said, "If I inherit a lot of my mother's family's blood, I'll have many children. But if I resemble my father's lineage, it will be impossible."

My heart ached. I pray every day that she will meet someone who will not deny her and will not try to fit her into a mold.

And there's one thing I can't tell my husband or my parents and siblings: If only the person who accepted my daughter wholeheartedly, with such a broad and accepting nature, were at least a normal noble. I keep thinking this over and over.

I don't want her to end up like "the person who is gone."