Chapter 26
After a while, she came out again, holding a noticeably thinner pouch of gold coins in her hand.
I picked up the pouch.
“Then, thank you for your efforts.”
After expressing my gratitude to the staff who had worked hard because of me, I left the bank. The weight at my wrist didn’t exactly make me happy—it complicated my thoughts instead.
“Have a good day.”
Once outside, I hurried to the carriage I had arranged to wait. It was parked not far away on the main road.
“Ah, have you finished your business?”
The coachman, who had been waiting, spotted me and ran over immediately.
“It looks heavy. Shall I carry it for you?”
He glanced at the pouch I was holding. I shook my head.
“No, it’s fine.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but I felt safer keeping it with me.
When I reached the carriage, I spoke to the coachman briefly before getting in.
“I have a place to go after stopping by the orphanage. Could I ask you to take me there?”
Since my initial route had been the orphanage to the bank and back, I told him in advance that we would need to make an extra stop. The coachman nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course. I’ll take you anywhere.”
“Thank you.”
Smiling faintly at his eager demeanor, I lifted myself into the carriage. Shortly after, it began moving off the main road.
I took in the scenery outside for a moment before turning my gaze downward to the pouch of coins in my arms.
Through the fabric, the smooth roundness of the coins made me both excited and anxious.
“We’ve arrived.”
“Thank you for your efforts. Please wait here just a moment. It won’t take long.”
“Yes! I’ll be right back!”
As I stopped the carriage on the main road and entered the orphanage, I was startled by a sudden figure blocking my path.
“P-please wait a moment!”
“Ah!”
“I-I’m sorry if I startled you… I had something I absolutely had to deliver, but no matter how much I rang the bell, no one came out…”
“You are…?”
The figure turned out to be a royal messenger, dressed in bluish attire bearing the royal crest.
But there was a subtle difference: unlike before, he now seemed somewhat dejected.
My expression naturally stiffened, recalling his previous coercion and threats.
“What brings you here? If it’s about sponsorship, I clearly declined last time.”
My voice became cold without meaning to, thinking he might act tyrannically again.
Unexpectedly, the messenger recoiled in shock, waving his hands.
“No! That’s not it. I came to deliver something to the director.”
“Something to deliver?”
“Yes, a letter from the royal family.”
He extended a blue envelope. When I didn’t take it, he reached a bit further, almost as if my refusal would kill him.
“I will leave after giving this to you.”
“…”
Though uneasy, it was just a letter, and I couldn’t afford to waste more time, so I reluctantly accepted it.
The messenger said,
“I’ve delivered it, as promised.”
After confirming, he hurriedly left.
Left alone, I tucked the letter into my belongings and went inside.
My gaze first fell on the playground, equipped with jungle gyms and other play facilities.
‘Huh, Kloan isn’t here.’
Usually, this would be the time when Kloan was running around outside. My assumption had been wrong.
Could he be napping? Or perhaps all the children had gathered to have a snack together. But they shouldn’t eat too much.
I moved closer, trying to guess what the children might be doing. As I opened the front door, a small bell tinkled.
The large, thunderous bell that once intimidated people had long been replaced.
Since the children played outside often, they didn’t need to hear such a loud sound each time. Instead, a delicate bell now emitted a pleasant sound whenever someone came and went.
Inside, I paused in the hallway, glancing left and right. The director’s office was to the left, the dining hall to the right.
The dining hall door was firmly shut. I crept closer and slightly opened it.
Thanks to recent oiling, the door opened smoothly without a squeak.
As expected, the children were inside—but they weren’t eating snacks.
“One plus one is two.”
“I don’t understand, brother. Why is one plus one two? Isn’t it one?”
“One and another one together make two. Count them. See? Two, right?”
“It’s hard.”
“Is this correct, sister?”
“Yes, good job. Well done.”
“Hehe.”
“Eddie, do you understand?”
“It’s… a bit hard, but…”
Eddie nodded with a focused expression at Jack’s question.
I watched Jack fondly observe the two girls, then continue explaining patiently to Kloan, who still muttered about why one plus one equals two.
‘Studying… here?’
I hadn’t expected this. Could the children really be studying little by little while I was working?
From glimpses of Eddie and Ren, it seemed this had been going on for some time.
‘I had no idea.’
I reflected on how inattentive I had been toward the children. At the same time, I felt proud seeing them study on their own initiative.
‘Though Kloan still hasn’t fully grasped numbers.’
Kloan was ten years old—late for Korea, but normal in this world.
In this world, unless one is a child of nobility or wealthy families, proper education is rare. Many children couldn’t even learn numbers or letters because education cost money: textbooks, pens, paper, and time.
It was natural for commoners and their children to have lower education levels, and even more so for children who lacked proper adult attention.
Kloan was normal, Ren and Eddie were smarter than average, and Jack… well, no words were needed.
Watching Jack teach so diligently strengthened my resolve: I had to ensure these children received proper education.
Of course, I didn’t expect the path to be easy.
I quietly closed the dining hall door behind me, careful not to disturb the children’s studies before lunch.
I crept to the director’s office, then carefully stored the pouch of gold coins in a locked drawer and rifled through the tea utensils.
“Found it.”
I neatly placed the items in a paper bag and tucked them into my arms.
Then I took out the letter from the messenger.
‘No rush—let’s check it after I return.’
Curious about its contents, I left it on the desk since the coachman was waiting outside and I had somewhere to go.
The children, absorbed in their studies, hadn’t noticed my arrival.
I was glad I had replaced the bell. But one concern remained:
‘What if an intruder comes in?’
Though the main and front doors were locked and the walls higher than an adult, I still worried.
‘Last time, the children escaped through a small opening.’
While repairing the orphanage, I had found a hole just big enough for a child. When Ren was sick, the children had escaped through that very opening.
I immediately blocked it, inspected the walls for other holes, and found none.
So intrusion was unlikely—but I still felt uneasy leaving the children alone.
‘Maybe I should hire someone.’
With the donation from Duke Kraiman, even a portion could support the children and allow hiring at least one caretaker. Their duties would be simple: guarding the orphanage and looking after the children when I’m away. The job wouldn’t cost much, and unemployed commoners would likely apply.
‘Still, it feels risky.’
I anticipated how difficult it would be to screen trustworthy people. If someone with ill intent approached, it would be hard to detect.
“Oh, you’re here.”
As I approached the carriage, the coachman opened the door quickly. I stepped onto the carriage using the small step.
For now:
“Please take me to Duke Kraiman’s residence.”
His eyes widened at my request, even though he had promised to go anywhere.
