By the way, the so-called Holy Mother School is a feature of the Aus Empire and its colonies, often run by widows or elderly women at home, with fewer students, targeting preschool children aged 2-6, with prices varying depending on the headmistress's status.

Generally, relatively affluent middle-class families that haven't reached the level of hiring tutors consider sending their children to such schools. It's not really to learn anything, but mainly to ensure their kids don't play with the wild children outside.

Moreover, some Holy Mother School's headmistresses have remarkable status, especially those in expensive schools.

Even though widows or elderly women with children are on the fringe in noble circles, their connections are still unattainable for ordinary people, and opening a school is merely a way to maintain their extravagant lifestyle and upkeep of their ancestral homes.

Emily's school belongs to this category, entrance requires an interview, and while the Dantes family in Holy City resembles a little sparrow, they certainly spare no expense on their children's education.

Even if much of it is wasted money.

"Well…"

Emily muttered, put the candy back into the wrapper, sneakily pocketed it, looked up at her mother, and sneaked a glance at her father's somewhat weary face—

Her father had a confident smile at the corner of his mouth, standing straight like a taut vine, just like the kind her teacher holds.

He wore a pale purple silk costume, the embroidery on the cuffs had yellowed, the metal buttons were copper-wrapped silver, but polished to a shine. Additionally, he had a heirloom brooch with the family crest pinned to his chest—although even he was unsure of its origins.

In short, it's been a long time since Little Emily saw that brooch on her father's chest.

Sofia quietly moved closer to Emily, whispering in her ear.

"Be sure not to smudge the frosting on Colin brother's sleeve… I beg you, don't leave too bad an impression."

"Brother? Isn't he uncle?" Emily tilted her head, but her sister didn't answer.

At this moment, there was a commotion from the distant pier, as if a long-awaited circus had finally begun.

Everyone looked up and saw a tall-masted sailboat approaching the shore, its purple flags fluttering amidst the smoke from the chimney.

Prince Colin's family crest was striking under the sunlight.

Little Emily was surprised to discover that it was the very moon on her father's chest!

"Here he comes!" Sir Edmond Dantes excitedly clenched his fist, much like a rooster ready to crow after taking a deep breath.

A young man, draped in a luxurious robe, slowly walked down the gangway, calm and composed, unaffected by the surrounding clamor.

Especially his gentle smile, like the newborn morning sun over the sea.

The girls leaning on the railing blushed, and some spirited young ladies whistled and tossed handkerchiefs toward him—though most fell into the sea or were snatched by seagulls, or covered some bald sailor's head.

It wasn't just the girls showing enthusiasm—

The young men were the same.

They whistled, clapped in welcome, and some cupped their hands around their noses, loudly shouting, trying to catch the patriot's attention—

"Welcome home!"

"The holy light always protects you!"

"Prince Colin! Do you need a knight? Look at me!"

"Look! Sofia! There he is... Prince Colin! I told you, he's from a good family!" Anna tightly gripped Sofia's hand, whose cheeks had turned crimson like ripe apples, nervously smoothing her skirt, her lips mumbling without saying a word.

"Calling from here won't reach him, we need to figure out how to get in…" Edmond was anxious, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he glanced around nervously.

He clearly underestimated the Holy City Citizens' enthusiasm for this Prince; at this rate, he couldn't get near the Prince no matter what.

If the prince gets off the boat with no one to welcome him, awkwardly standing at the port... what should be done?!

At this moment, someone suddenly sounded a salute.

With a "bang," countless ribbons swirled like little snakes in the air, dispelling the seagulls flying around the pier.

The unexpected scene for Edmond unfolded rapidly—

A carriage adorned with golden roses and scripture stopped by the pier, steadily parked at the prince's feet. A servant opened the door, and a handsome middle-aged gentleman stepped out, his golden hair shining warmly like Holy Light under the sun.

"It's actually Mr. Casite Hillfin!" Edmond's youngest son François recognized him immediately, exclaiming sharply.

"Do you know him?" Emily looked up with a childish voice.

Numerous pairs of eyes fell on the youngest son, François urgently replied.

"Know him!? I see his portrait every day! He's the head of the Imperial Art Academy!"

Edmond naturally recognized him too, instinctively sweating under his forehead—Casite Hillfin wasn't merely the head of the art academy.

Rumor has it he's favored by the Pope, a leader in the cultural circles of Holy City!

How did even this notable figure come?

No, it can't be?!

Edmond sweated profusely from anxiety, while his unfilial eldest son Lucian sneered, muttering disdainfully, "Just doing art, what's so great about it…"

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