Chapter 13
I can feel her raw, unfiltered emotion—“How should I deal with this?”—directed straight at me.
Since she’d even been investigated because of me, it was only natural that her eyes were filled with anger.
“All that time I spent catering to those noble lords—because of you, it’s all gone now.”
After staring down at me for a long while, the orphanage director glanced around. Unfortunately, the sweet potato field had been planted behind the orphanage, and since it was a secluded spot people rarely came to, there was no one around.
Perfect for doing something bad.
As expected, the director’s expression gradually brightened.
“Make a mistake? Aisha, I’ve always liked you because you’re so clever.”
“I am pretty smart.”
“But this time, you went too far.”
She clenched her large fist tightly and slowly walked toward us.
“What do you mean?”
“If you found things like that, you should’ve told me first. Why did you tell the shrine maiden before me? Did you hear something from them? Huh?”
“I wanted to show off!”
I blurted it out without the slightest hesitation.
“…Show off?”
She looked quite taken aback by my firm reply.
“Yes! I wanted everyone to see! That I found friends! I thought I’d get praised more if I told her when the shrine maiden came!”
When I looked up at her with an innocent face and expression, she seemed to realize it a beat late and nodded heavily.
“I see. Showing off… yes. That’s fine. But Aisha, I’ll have to take those children with me.”
“No.”
“…What? Are you defying me?”
“Yes! The shrine maiden told me to take good care of them. So you can’t take them away! That was a promise, and promises have to be kept! Promises are important!”
“What nonsense.”
She snorted and, without any hesitation, tried to walk past me. She even reached out toward Lari, who was trembling while clutching her stuffed lamb.
She spread her hand as if she were about to crush Lari’s small face at any moment.
“Please have a sweet potato!”
I dashed over and shoved a plump sweet potato into her grasp.
“…W-What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m offering you a sweet potato. They grew really well—nice and plump, just like your legs, Director.”
“Aisha!”
“Well then, we’ll be going!”
“Hey!”
“You’re never taking these kids! Never!”
I added one last word.
The fact that the director, who had only been watching us from afar for days, was acting like this now meant she was worried about being seen.
Besides, since that day, knights had been stationed all around the orphanage. They were dispatched, and even if they didn’t pay much attention to us, it didn’t matter. Even the orphanage director couldn’t harm the children in front of holy knights.
That must be why the shrine maiden Melidia, even as her own situation grew difficult, never gave up on dispatching holy knights to the orphanage. It was probably the bare minimum measure she could take after leaving the director at large.
“Aisha! Get back here!”
I grabbed the children’s hands and ran.
I’ll protect these kids. I won’t let anyone take them. I won’t let anyone touch them.
Thankfully, both of them ran along with me. Unlike her shouting voice, the director wasn’t fast, and thanks to that, we reached our room more easily than expected.
However, my ambitious plan to roast sweet potatoes that day ended in failure.
Even late into the night, we couldn’t even think about going outside. Now that the director had revealed her filthy intentions, we had no idea when or where she might target us. In times like these, secluded places were even more dangerous.
And we couldn’t exactly roast sweet potatoes indoors either—unless we wanted to burn down the entire wooden room.
“Sister… the sweet potatoes….”
I forced a smile at Lari, who looked at me with hopeful eyes.
“I think it’ll be hard right now. Let’s roast them next time instead!”
“Okay. Lari likes everything you do, Sister!”
“…Likes? What’s so tasty about roasting something that looks so weird?”
Rohen, lying on the upper bunk of the opposite bunk bed meant to hold four people, continued to argue against everything I said.
“That’s because you haven’t lived enough yet, Rohen. There are so many delicious things in the world. And among them, sweet potatoes are… really tasty. Sweet and soft…”
“You’re only one year older than us, but anyone watching would think you’ve lived decades longer.”
Something poked painfully at my heart.
Sharp kid. Worried he might realize the truth, I quickly raised my voice.
“One year is a long time.”
“That’s right. Sister’s one whole year older than us, so she’s super smart.”
Then—
Rohen sat up and craned his head forward.
“Stop saying weird stuff and come sleep over here.”
At that, Lari—who had been glued right next to me on my bed instead of her own—shook her head.
“No! I’m sleeping with Sister.”
“…Are you a baby?”
“Yes! Lari’s a baby! You’re a baby too, Oppa.”
“No I’m not. I’m not a baby.”
Watching this, Lari mumbled to herself and snuggled even deeper into my arms.
“I’ll be a baby. I want to stay hugged like this in Sister’s arms.”
Often, the more deeply someone has been hurt, the more easily they open their heart to small kindnesses—just like Lari now.
“I really like you, Sister… You always read us books, and you protect us from bad people. You’re kind!”
“I’m not that kind. But at least, I hope my actions stay in your memories as those of a good person. At least, so you’ll know that not everyone in the world is bad…”
I hope you believe that.
“Don’t be ridiculous. All humans are bad.”
Rohen spoke in a stiff voice, as if to refute me.
Since I thought the same, I hugged Lari tightly—who trusted me completely, like a child.
“That’s right. Actually, Lari, humans are all bad, just like Rohen says. So don’t trust anyone else, okay?”
“But… Oppa said you couldn’t be trusted either, but you’re such a good person, Sister!”
The child lifted her head, her eyes holding not a trace of doubt.
“That’s true. Then, Lari—only trust the people that I and Rohen say are trustworthy, okay?”
“Mm!”
Lari hugged the stuffed lamb in her arms even tighter.
It was the lamb doll wearing the shabby cloak made from a blanket that Rohen had given her.
“Now let’s sleep!”
“Sister, read me a book.”
“I’ll read you a story I remember.”
“Mhm!”
After thinking quietly for a moment, I leaned closer to Lari.
“Once upon a time, there was a poor girl named Cinderella who was hated by her family. Her stepmother and stepsisters bullied and abused her terribly.”
“Oh my! Then what? Did she meet a prince?”
“No. There are no princes in the world. You survive on your own! So Cinderella took revenge with her own strength.”
Lari, who had once overheard other kids talking excitedly about fairy-tale princes, looked more expectant than ever.
But there are no princes in the world.
“Umm… Sister, so there’s no handsome prince…?”
“Nope. None. Prince, crown prince, imperial prince—men with power aren’t trustworthy at all. So never trust them, okay?”
Only then did Lari nod her small head.
“Okay!”
“Now let’s sleep, Lari.”
“Mhm.”
“…Isn’t it uncomfortable for the two of you to sleep on such a narrow bed?”
Just as we were about to fall asleep, Rohen spoke again in an uneasy voice.
“Sister! Are you uncomfortable?”
“No. Not at all.”
“…If you’re not uncomfortable, then do whatever.”
Rohen tossed out that curt remark and turned away.
Is he jealous? Should I hug Rohen next time too?
Thinking that, I smiled pleasantly and stroked Lari’s head.
Perhaps she was tired, because Lari soon fell asleep.
But the time of separation came upon us sooner than expected.
Surprisingly, the orphanage director quickly stopped paying attention to us. The holy knights guarding the orphanage seemed to finish their mission and returned one by one. Even when only a few were left and nothing happened, she appeared quite relieved.
She no longer tried to forcibly separate me from the twins, nor did she try to take the twins alone.
On the contrary, she seemed reassured simply by having the children within her sight.
It was during those days, when we were spending time like ordinary children, that it happened.
“They say a festival will be held in ten days!”
At those words, something deep in my chest began to ache. I’d been so busy spending time with the twins that I hadn’t even realized the time had come.
If it weren’t for how unusually excited the orphanage children were, I might have let it pass—forgotten that we would soon part.
The day the twins’ father comes to take them—the very first day.
Nine days before the festival begins—that was when, in the novel, the two children returned to their original family.
“Sister, what’s a festival?”
Since the director had lost interest, I had been wandering around gathering firewood to finally roast sweet potatoes again. At Lari’s question, I almost dropped the basket I was holding.
“…A festival…”
“Sister? What’s wrong?”
“Uh… n-no, nothing. Let’s go inside first.”
“Huh? You said we’d roast sweet potatoes today!”
“That’s… let’s do it later. There’s something I need to tell you two.”
