Chapter 44…………
“Good morning, Madam. Did you sleep well?”
The next morning, we all gathered at the table.
Thankfully, Ayla didn’t cry when she saw me today.
Her face looked peaceful.
But then a problem arose.
“Good morning, too, Aslan. Did you sleep well?”
“Uh, y-yeah!”
Now Aslan was the one who seemed uncomfortable around Ayla.
Seeing that, Ayla looked flustered and asked cautiously:
“Aslan, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well…?”
But Aslan shook his head in an exaggerated way, as if denying something he felt guilty about.
“Noo, it’s not that! I’m fine.”
“Really? Then I’m glad…”
Her sky-blue eyes glimmered with concern as her words trailed off.
Just from looking at those eyes, it was clear Ayla didn’t hate Aslan at all—contrary to what Aslan feared yesterday.
And yet, Aslan had convinced himself that he was being hated for the first time in his life, which left him feeling dejected.
To lighten the mood, I clapped my hands and drew the children’s attention.
“Alright then, kids. Shall we eat first?”
“Yes, Madam.”
Ayla nodded calmly.
Aslan, however, listlessly picked up his fork.
Clink, clatter.
The sound of cutlery clashing against the plates felt unbearably loud—because no one was speaking.
Had mealtimes ever been this quiet before?
Usually, Aslan would be noisy, I would scold him, and Ayla would laugh—always cheerful.
But now, I was picking at my food while crying inside.
‘Ugh, this is going to give me indigestion… seriously!’
In this atmosphere, no one could eat heartily.
Even Aslan, who normally boasted a strong appetite, was just nibbling, and Ayla looked bewildered, not knowing why things had turned so gloomy.
This was one of those times when, no matter how much I wanted to cry too, the adult had to step up.
So I forced a smile and said:
“Kids, how about we all go for a walk after breakfast?”
Ayla was the first to respond.
“Ah, um… I’m fine! Why don’t you go with Aslan, Madam?”
“…I don’t want to. I’m not going either.”
After a brief silence, Aslan muttered in a small voice.
Ayla blinked rapidly and looked at me, clearly shocked that Aslan—who usually loved walks—would refuse.
Her gaze seemed to ask, What’s wrong with him?
But I couldn’t explain it here, so I stayed quiet. Meanwhile, Aslan put down his fork and said:
“I don’t want to eat anymore.”
“Already? Are you sure you’ve had enough?”
His plate was still nearly half full.
This was the boy who usually cleaned his plate without fail.
But Aslan shook his head firmly.
“I just don’t feel like eating.”
With that, he slid down from his chair and trudged out of the dining room.
Silence settled in once he left.
Ayla, stunned that Aslan had left food unfinished, glanced at me anxiously and asked:
“Madam… Did I do something wrong to Aslan? He seems so down and upset today…”
Her eyes shimmered with worry.
‘Good grief, could they be any closer as friends? They’re worrying about the exact same thing.’
Her words confirmed what I had already suspected: Aslan wasn’t hated by Ayla.
So why was he suddenly distancing himself? I wanted to know that too.
After a moment of thought, I put down my utensils and said:
“Ayla, if it’s alright with you, would you mind having a little talk with me?”
* * *
After making sure Aslan had dozed off in the playroom, I brought Ayla to my room.
On the small table, I set out some refreshments. Ayla sat across from me, looking somewhat tense.
To ease her nerves, I offered her warm cocoa and a little joke.
“This is your first time in my room, isn’t it? There’s nothing here a child would find fun, so I never had a reason to bring you before.”
As soon as I spoke, Ayla’s shoulders flinched, and she quickly shook her head.
“N-no, it’s fine!”
Hmm… Maybe the best way to relax her was to just get straight to the point.
I fiddled with my teacup before carefully beginning:
“You were worried about Aslan acting that way earlier, weren’t you?”
“Ah, yes… I was.”
Ayla fidgeted with her fingers, then slumped her shoulders.
As expected, the idea that Aslan was hated was nonsense.
Looking at her now, it was obvious she was anxious that she might have done something wrong to him.
I called her name softly.
“Ayla.”
“Yes, Madam?”
She answered nervously.
I gently took the hand holding her teacup and asked:
“While you’ve been staying here… have we done anything to make you uncomfortable?”
“Wh-what?!”
Ayla’s head shot up, startled, after having been staring down at our hands.
She shook her head frantically.
“Not at all, Madam! Why would you think that…?”
“Because yesterday, Aslan told me you said you’d start sleeping alone. He said you also told him I didn’t need to look after you anymore. Aslan thinks it means you hate him.”
“That’s impossible! I could never hate Aslan… I just…”
But Ayla suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
At least hearing that she didn’t hate him gave me some relief.
But I still hadn’t heard her feelings about me.
Nervously, I forced the words out.
“Then… why did you cry every time you saw me yesterday? If it wasn’t Aslan, was it me who made you uncomfortable?”
“Th-that’s…”
Ah. So it was this, after all.
Aslan wasn’t the problem. Ayla had been avoiding him because of me.
Part of me was relieved, but another part of me burned inside—because I had no idea what I’d done wrong.
I didn’t want to be the kind of adult who was blind to her own mistakes!
‘Could it be that I acted too familiar and made her uncomfortable?’
I had only wanted to keep her from feeling out of place in a strange environment, but maybe it backfired.
I masked my unease and looked her in the eye.
“If I did something wrong, I’d like to apologize properly, Ayla. Could you tell me?”
Ayla met my eyes with trembling ones, staring for a long while.
I waited anxiously, praying I hadn’t done anything unforgivable.
Finally, after a pause, she looked away and whispered:
“…You didn’t do anything wrong, Madam.”
“R-really?”
I felt a wave of relief—only for doubt to hit me a moment later.
If I hadn’t done anything wrong, then why did she cry whenever she saw me?
And why did it take her so long to say so, as if she were testing my reaction?
And what about her saying I didn’t need to look after her anymore—that didn’t make sense at all.
So I asked:
“Then why…?”
At that, Ayla glanced at me again, and her eyes welled with tears just like yesterday.
“W-wait, don’t cry! Did I do something wrong again?”
Panicking, I pulled out a handkerchief.
This was making me feel like I was bullying her.
I stood to go wipe her tears, but that was when Ayla finally confessed the real reason.
“…Suddenly, I felt like I was intruding between you and Aslan.”
* * *
It started a few days ago, when the days left until Id’s return could be counted on one hand.
Back when she was waiting alone at the Mente estate, she had wished time would pass quickly.
But now, strangely enough, she felt reluctant for time to move on.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want Id to come back.
Even Ayla herself didn’t understand her emotions—it just left her feeling unsettled.
And so, she decided to seek out Minerva.
‘Madam might know. She always seems to know everything.’
Minerva always had the answers to Ayla’s questions.
At this time of day, she would likely be in the library on the second floor.
With that thought, Ayla went to look for her.
