Chapter 52
She gave her power and a name to the fragile human, as if he might break if touched. She cared for him with all her heart.
When did it happen? When her pity for him turned into love.
The woman liked that the human did not force or bind her love. And the human could not help but love the beautiful woman who cared for him and shared her power. They fell in love.
Other creatures saw this by chance and told the sculptor. Consumed by jealousy, he lost all reason.
In the eternal space, where neither light nor dark existed and even time was gone, he locked the woman away in a secret place only he could enter. So she could only see and love him.
But the woman was already preparing her escape. She no longer wanted to live like that.
One day, she opened the sleeping sculptor’s chest, took his heart, and ran. She gave the stolen heart to the tiny, fragile human.
Even when other creatures tried to catch her, she protected the human, begging him to save her with the heart’s power.
When she was dragged in front of the furious sculptor, she believed the human would come to save her. But as the other creatures tried to kill her, demanding her eternal exile, she realized the human would not come.
By the time she realized this, all her power was gone, and she was falling into endless darkness.
Meanwhile, the sculptor wept over the woman who had betrayed him. When his tears finally became blood, he understood that the way he had loved her was wrong.
But by then, it was far too late to change anything.
What a strange dream…
I woke up with tears streaming down my face. They would not stop, no matter how much my brain told my tear glands to calm down. My heart was crying for no clear reason.
Why am I crying?
Was it because of the sadness of the woman betraying the sculptor she once loved? Or because of seeing the human come too late to save her?
Eventually, as sleepiness faded, my tears stopped.
“What kind of nonsense is this?”
I wiped my face and looked around. Outside the window, it was still deep night—pitch black, with no streetlights.
Next to me, a small child was curled up, sleeping.
It was the boy I had brought from the apostle’s grave yesterday—his name was Ain.
He held tightly to a storybook, snoring softly. It was the fairy tale I had read to him last night.
The title was “The Woman Loved by the Sculptor.” Davien had brought it, saying he read it as a child. The story blended the legends of the Dorcan Sword Forest, Terina Church, and Pygmalion beautifully.
I couldn’t believe I’d dream about the story. Even the sculptor looked like the apostle in my dream.
Maybe I had been stressed from the patients and the excessive work the director gave me. To dream of a storybook and wake up crying…
I sighed and turned to look at the sleeping Ain. I had already guessed, when I saw how the priests treated him at the cemetery, that he had suffered abuse for a long time.
Whenever a stranger appeared, he would cling to me or Lloyd, trembling and crying. The only adult he dared approach was Davien.
But Davien freaked out at his dirty, tangled hair and the crusted filth on his neck, and ordered the servants to wash him. When strangers appeared again, Ain cried and ran back into Lloyd’s arms. Eventually, Lloyd and I became responsible for bathing him.
Of course, there was a small problem. Something that happened the day before.
“Lloyd, have you ever bathed a child before?” I asked.
“If you teach me, I’ll do it well,” he said, looking determined.
I sighed, thinking of the young heir of the duke’s house—he should at least manage his own bath.
I approached trembling Ain.
“It’s a warm bath,” I told him.
He tilted his head, unsure.
Surely he knew what a bath was…?
As I tried to undress him, he flinched, tears falling.
“It’s not scary,” Lloyd said, patting his head. Ain nodded, still sniffling.
Oddly, despite his dirty hair and neck, his clothes were sparkling new.
Were they only for show? How cruel!
Back in Zeronia, when I visited the apostle’s office, I often saw priests taking portions of donations from nobles and commoners, claiming it as “central support” for the capital. Even then, I wondered why the provinces weren’t being helped. Now I realized—they were just thieves. They abused a small child, starving him and leaving him in pain.
These priests were completely different from the ones I had met in Zeronia, and I felt anger boiling inside me.
“Good grief…”
Taking off Ain’s clothes, I saw that he was painfully thin, his body covered in bruises and wounds.
A child not even five years old… what kind of life had he lived?
I felt my heart ache as he trembled, curling up in fear.
“Lloyd, can you put Ain in the tub?”
Lloyd nodded and carefully lifted him. The boy shook his head violently, frightened.
“It’ll be warm once you get in,” I said.
Lloyd gently placed him in the steaming bath. The warmth made Ain’s eyes widen, and he glanced back and forth between us.
“See? It’s okay,” I said.
Ain nodded, still surprised. The maid had prepared a sponge with soap, and when he touched the bubbles, his eyes grew even wider.
“Is this your first time seeing bubbles?”
He smiled, fascinated, and then suddenly kissed the tip of my nose with his tiny hands.
“Huh…?”
A thank-you?
I laughed and stroked his head. Seeing his bright smile reminded me of the apostle.
“Kaeh,” Lloyd whispered softly.
“Hm…?” I replied.
Suddenly—smack.
“What… what?!”
Lloyd kissed me unexpectedly. My face turned bright red.
“Ain is watching!” I panicked.
But Ain just stared at us blankly, unfazed. What is this child thinking?
After the bath, before changing his clothes, I used magic to heal his wounds and bruises. Left untreated, they would leave scars.
Ain began to cry again as the magic worked. I worried the pain might feel strong, so I paused and asked,
“Why are you crying? Does it hurt?”
He shook his head, only watching my hands carefully.
Once cleaned and dressed, Ain’s appearance seemed upgraded—his large, jewel-like eyes, and even a small, sharp nose like mine.
I stroked his head.
“You’re very handsome. People must tell you that a lot.”
His face turned bright red at my words.
So shy already? Cute, so cute.
Then Lloyd, helping nearby, peeked suddenly, staring straight at my face.
“…?”
I looked at him. He hesitated, then asked,
“Am I handsome too?”
What now? Random nonsense again?
“Of course, you are! Didn’t you know?” I said.
His face instantly flushed bright red.
“Lloyd, are you running a fever?” I teased.
The heir even gets colds, apparently.
“…Take the child out with you. I’ll clean up here,” Lloyd said.
The young heir insisted on cleaning up himself, leaving the servants behind?
I tilted my head, confused, and returned to the room with the children’s storybook Davien had given me.
Lying down beside Ain to sleep again, he suddenly opened his eyes, sensing someone. His eyes were moist, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
Maybe he had a scary dream.
“Ain, it’s still night,” I whispered, patting his shoulder. He wriggled into my arms, sobbing softly. I thought of my own painful childhood in the orphanage, and my heart ached even more.
I gently patted his back until he fell asleep, and I quietly drifted off as well.
The timid, crying Ain slowly grew calmer.
He began to take small steps outside the room, finally making it to the dining hall today.
The Helderios family was all gathered, staring at him with sparkling expressions. The Duke and Duchess beamed at him, and the servants couldn’t stop cooing over how cute he was.
All eyes were on Ain.
