Chapter 38
“I told you, didn’t I? You became the kind of teacher you are now because you kept getting away with unreasonable behavior without ever paying the price.”
Isabel Golly—doing whatever she pleased, convinced the other person wouldn’t even twitch no matter how much she stepped on them.
“So the victim—me—has to make you pay that price. I have to teach you. Teach you that if you mistreat others, you get punished.”
Baron Tram’s wrongdoing is Baron Tram’s responsibility.
The teacher’s wrongdoing is the teacher’s responsibility.
So how did it end up becoming an actual lawsuit?
“When I was younger, I didn’t know any better. But when I went to the library that day and looked it up, it turns out what the teacher did was illegal.”
And, conveniently, there was evidence.
The reflection essays I’d written.
The apology letters.
Disciplinary records.
Even the recommendation letter the teacher had written for me.
They were all still preserved in the faculty office of Loire 13th Regular School, where I used to attend.
“It doesn’t make sense. Writing a recommendation letter for a kid who caused an incident right before that? That alone is evidence. And—”
“And?”
“I don’t know how or why, but… the principal was incredibly cooperative.”
As soon as I showed up at the school, he ran out to greet me.
He practically begged me to file the lawsuit.
“He gathered testimonies from other teachers at the time, and even introduced me to a lawyer who has access to the Imperial Palace.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Apparently, the kid who caused that incident back then was named Paul… and the lawyer is his uncle or something.”
“Interesting.”
“Very.”
Is there some kind of fairy helping me from behind the scenes or what?
I tilted my head in confusion. Beside me, Arden silently brushed dust from his sleeve.
“They said they’d get me the compensation I should’ve received back then—with nine years’ worth of interest added.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“It is. And the press made a huge fuss about it, too.”
Normally, it wouldn’t even have been newsworthy.
But right now, the Golly family was already in the spotlight because of the Holy Maiden of Magic and The Dancing Boy incident.
They’d been loudly claiming they were innocent victims—but now it was exposed that they had shifted blame onto someone even weaker than themselves.
A fourteen-year-old orphaned girl.
Of course people were furious.
“They came to my atelier this morning asking for a settlement. Eli chased them out.”
“I should’ve come earlier. I’d have helped chase them out.”
“Turns out it wasn’t just me. Apparently they treated their maids terribly, too.”
After my lawsuit hit the papers, the maids who had suffered under the Golly family also filed lawsuits.
(The same ‘Paul’s uncle’ lawyer is taking those cases too. For free. Does anyone know why this man is like this?)
“And the timing was perfect—right when the ‘Corporal Punishment for Employee Abuse Act’ passed…”
Seriously. Is there a fairy godmother backing me or something?
In the end, a significant portion of the money the Golly family earned by auctioning The Dancing Boy went toward compensation for their past behavior.
They narrowly avoided bankruptcy, but had to sell their beloved mansion in District 2 and move elsewhere.
The young daughter who had abused the maids now has to do everything herself—without any maids.
(For the record, the maid who got her hair pulled back then also received compensation and changed jobs.)
After marriage, Isabel—the teacher who had sworn she’d “never do something like that again” and quit teaching mid-semester—tried to return to being a regular school teacher…
But no school would take her.
She’s now working as a shop clerk somewhere.
I’m not ashamed of working as a shop clerk myself.
I wonder if she is.
‘If you think it’s hell, it’s hell. If you don’t, it isn’t.’
“If she feels wronged, she can sue that parent from back then herself.”
Arden said this as he took a sip of the milk tea he’d bought.
It was lunchtime.
Children ran around us, laughing, as we sat by the fountain in the plaza.
Worried that kids’ spit might get into his drink, Arden covered the cup’s opening with his hand and asked,
“So… you’re quitting the atelier now?”
“Why?”
“Because you got the compensation.”
“Oh. That—I’m donating it.”
To the orphanage where I grew up.
Unlike Arden, I casually sipped my milk tea, completely unconcerned about the splashing water.
At my words, Arden turned his whole body to look at me.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“With that money, you could donate to the academy fund. Maybe not all of it, but at least half. So why—”
“Because if there’s a kid going through something like what I went through, I want them to know?”
That there’s at least one adult in the world who cares about their situation and wants to help.
“I want to send that message.”
“That’s…”
“That’s what?”
“That’s an irrational choice.”
Arden frowned, saying that no matter what, I should prioritize saving myself first.
I answered lightly.
“I know. But sometimes—”
“Sometimes?”
“I want to be someone who makes irrational choices even when I know they’re irrational.”
To the fourteen-year-old me who had to endure everything alone.
I want to tell her:
You went through all of that and still grew into someone this good.
Everything will be okay.
“For healing emotional wounds, that’s cheap.”
And there’s something I can’t say out loud because I’m afraid you’ll arrest me—
The Holy Maiden of Magic stipend is surprisingly generous.
This much side income is well within my discretion.
I calculated everything before deciding.
♡☆♧ I’m hardened by life, after all ♡☆♧
“Anyway, that’s how it turned out. I wanted to tell you. You were there with me that day.”
You even offered to go to the Imperial Palace with me.
I added with a smile.
Arden didn’t say anything.
I looked at his profile, unable to tell what he was thinking.
A splash from the fountain dotted Arden’s cheek.
I thought,
‘Isn’t fountain water dirty?’
Are you okay?
Germaphobe?
At that moment, Arden was thinking about something else entirely.
‘Why was I so shocked when she said she’d donate the money?’
If it had been anyone else, I would’ve shrugged and said, Donate more, and moved on.
So why was I shaken?
No—actually, even before that.
Isn’t it strange how anything involving this senior hits me like a 199-meter wave and knocks me completely off balance?
Why?
Why??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
‘Why am I this invested in her life?’
Objectively speaking, she’s just a stranger to me.
She just saved me once during academy days.
‘And she doesn’t even seem to remember it.’
So why am I the only one losing control, getting swept up in dramatic emotions over every little thing?
The fierce anger I felt when I saw her treated unjustly.
The satisfaction when I watched her take revenge so cleanly.
The confusion—shock—admiration—
loveliness…?
No no no no no. That word came out wrong.
Anyway.
There are only two people who have shaken my emotions this much recently.
The senior in front of me—and the Holy Maiden of Magic.
(The Holy Maiden is negative, though.)
I’m flustered.
But I don’t hate it.
Losing my composure because of her.
Being shaken by her—it doesn’t feel bad.
I want it to continue.
I want to know her inner thoughts.
I want to understand her way of thinking.
I want to know what happened in her past—what shaped her into who she is.
In every new situation, I want to keep learning how she feels and how she reacts.
I want this instability to continue.
To compress this feeling—one I still don’t fully understand—into a single phrase—
“Senior.”
“Yeah?”
I ask the face that has been appearing in my dreams more and more often.
“I’ve been appointed as the exclusive investigator for the Holy Maiden of Magic.”
“I knew it was coming!”
“Huh?”
“No—no, nothing. Congratulations. So?”
“Ahem. Cough!”
“Yes?”
“So. There’s an appointment ceremony at the Imperial Palace. And a ball… ahem!”
“Are you okay?”
“Would you—”
“Yes?”
“Would you go with me?”
“…What?”
“Let’s go to the ball together.”
“……”
“Please be my partner, Senior.”
