The Princesses of the Orphanage (7)
Near the orphanage, a log cabin. It was less a house and more like an inn you'd find in any village. With a bit more care put into the exterior and furnishings, calling it a hotel wouldn't be out of place. Even if it had been built in a hurry, mimicking a hotel's layout was entirely feasible.
Thud, thud.
The Empire's orphans, freshly arrived at the orphanage's temporary building, scanned the lobby. They might not know what facilities they'd grown up in back home, but they could surely tell this place was brand new.
'And that it was built for them.'
It was originally meant for orphans, but the two who'd just arrived showed similar reactions.
"This is..."
"Whoa! A new house! Ahh, the smell of wood is just divine!"
...Opposing reactions, perhaps, but both seemed to intuit it instinctively. That this would be their new home.
'For now, they'll stay here.'
We hadn't cleared out the rooms from the kids already sleeping at the orphanage. Various reasons, but Mother's words had weighed heaviest.
-Putting girls who don't even speak the language into the dorms willy-nilly could cause an uproar. Even kids from the Kingdom and Empire are different; they need time to gradually integrate.
Prophetic, maybe.
"Until you learn the Kingdom tongue, you'll stay here together for the time being."
Not everyone knew Kingdom speech, and even Father struggled with the Empire language he'd only just begun studying.
"If you need anything, tell Grey. He'll be staying here to manage the orphanage for a while."
I was just relaying Father's words verbatim, but this had been pre-arranged. Separate from Naria or Astasia.
"Anyone here fluent in Kingdom speech?"
At Father's question, the orphans exchanged glances.
"Some seem to understand it, but you need to be able to read and write too."
"Me!"
"I know Kingdom speech!"
Astasia raised her hand.
"I know a bit of other languages too! Learned them from a young age!"
"Looks like Astasia's the only one. She could blend right in, then..."
Father stepped behind Naria.
"This girl's the daughter of an old acquaintance. Like a niece to me."
Placing a hand on Naria's shoulder with a subtle warning glare, the orphans all jolted in surprise. They'd been eyeing her curiously since arrival. Suddenly bringing along a boyish girl in disguise and cramming her into the container with them.
'Naria's shocked too.'
She probably never expected the margrave to call her "niece." Neither did I—I was a bit taken aback myself.
"Circumstances brought her here to live with you Empire folk. That should suffice."
"Father."
"Yes? Something to add?"
"I'll handle the explanations. You should head back and rest. It's late."
We were running behind schedule. Mother might be worrying.
"Very well. Late as it is, I leave them in your hands."
Father patted my back and stepped out.
Creeeak.
No sooner had Father left the orphanage than a knight entered, crossing paths with him.
"Pardon the intrusion."
It was Mente Knight.
"I'll handle escort duties from here."
"Sorry to call you out so late, Knight."
"No trouble at all. Got a good show out of it, after all. Heh."
It wasn't something for others to overhear, but Mente had caught Father hauling the container. Lucky she wasn't the type to blab.
"Then I'll—"
"Whoa! New friend?!"
Before Mente could offer to stand guard, Astasia bounded over to her.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Astasia! Hmm, I look like the big sis, so feel free to drop the formalities?!"
"......."
Mente's face twisted. Baffled, yet fighting a grin, she strained to keep her lips from curling up.
"Young master. May I speak?"
"Yes. Why not make it a quiz, like you did with me before."
"Miss Astasia. For starters, I'm an adult."
"Huh?"
"So, how old am I?"
"Adult, so... 20?!"
Mente shook her head. Meanwhile, I swept my gaze over the other orphans.
'The shadows know, as expected.'
Three of them. The tallest, the elders—they already knew about Mente. The clueless ones were guessing her age like Astasia, but the shadows were eyeing the orphanage interior, not Mente.
"Higher."
"...21? Oh, 22 maybe?"
"Heh... this many."
"Four fingers...? 24 years old!"
"40."
"......."
"I'm 40."
Astasia froze, then whipped her head toward me.
"R-real?!"
"A black mage's curse halted her aging at 13. Mente's an Advanced Knight."
"O-oh, I see."
Astasia must be flustered. A girl her height—or a tad shorter—being three times her age.
'With her, surely she'll—'
"So 13 plus 27 years makes me the big sis in body!"
"......?"
Astasia puffed out her chest proudly; Mente gaped in shock.
"Ah, does that mean sis starts next year? Hmm, then we're the same age for now!"
"......."
"......Ha."
People don't change at their core.
'So pure.'
Environment can shape you, but the roots stay put.
'Incredibly so, for someone raised in the palace.'
If even that shifted, it meant the surroundings were rotten to the core. The palace must be brighter than thought.
'The current emperor must have doted on her carefully.'
The crown prince wouldn't have given her love, so the aging emperor stepped up. He'd die soon, but gratitude was due for now.
"Mente Knight. Let me introduce her too."
"...Ja, bes."
"......?"
Naria haltingly introduced herself as "Jabes" in Kingdom tongue; Mente tilted her head the other way.
"Um..."
"Jabes. Mente Knight is my knight. You can trust her."
"......."
Nod.
Naria nodded gravely; Mente flinched at the scar on her neck.
"Young master."
"Later. Show Jabes to a room first? Next to mine."
"Yes."
Mente led Naria to a first-floor room.
'They'll talk privately there.'
If not, I'd fill her in later.
'She's got full trust issues. Or did she always?'
Even as the princess of a fallen kingdom, she never trusted easily. My spies to the revolutionaries always failed; she'd sift them out and turn them instead.
How would she fare here, not yet fully bloomed?
'Might even connect her with Ethan Sezar.'
Future revolutionary leader and exec under one roof. Shocking enough, with the future saintess here too.
"Your Highness Astasia."
"Y-yeah?!"
"When I say 'Your Highness'..."
"I'll just keep being polite! Feels better than dropping it. Hehe..."
Astasia scratched her head.
'Mente's fault.'
After trying casual with her and hearing "40," no wonder she was meek.
"Your Highness. Shall we tour the place?"
"A tour?!"
"Yes. For now—"
Orphanage interior: no intruders. No need for guards.
'She'll be fine alone.'
Truly fine—and safer here than out. Nine already harbored hidden malice toward her.
"Check up to the fourth floor, pick your favorite room."
"R-really?!"
"Yes. You're royalty. But this might be my last special favor!"
"Hmm... P-pick a room first, okay...?"
Astasia checked with the others first.
"Then I'll tour the new house!!"
She bolted up the stairs to the second floor. Good thing we'd just furnished basics like beds and wardrobes yesterday—they could sleep immediately.
"Whew."
I took a light breath.
"Everyone, to the dining hall."
I pointed to the adjacent dining hall; the orphans shuffled in hesitantly, claiming seats at the long table.
"Now we can talk properly. Oh, that was just politeness—no hot cocoa."
Only cold water and wooden cups here.
"Nine of you. Plenty."
I slowly poured water into a wooden cup.
"Act up, and you die. Whatever you've smuggled, Mente Knight will burst through the wall faster than you can draw."
"!!"
The orphan right in front of me paled, eyes dropping.
"Good posture. I said it earlier, but seems you didn't get it, so clearly now."
I pulled a vial from my bosom.
"Even assassins sheath their daggers. Can't have the tool biting the hand. Especially not a hound."
"Th-that's..."
"Shh."
I sprinkled white powder from the vial into each cup.
"Nothing fouler than your own dog turning. That's why collars, muzzles. Sometimes... clipping nails and claws."
"Eek...!"
"Don't panic. You think I'd kill you?"
I smiled at each pale face.
"Not when you haven't done anything kill-worthy yet."
I nicked my palm with the dagger, dripping blood into each cup.
"Killable, sure. Erwin Chairwoman sent you out of cheap pity; I only need to protect Her Highness Astasia."
Drip, drip, drip.
The water reddened; I stirred with the dagger.
"If you die, she'll grieve, pity you—that's it."
"A q-question..."
"Who said you could speak? No permission."
I stepped behind the speaker, grabbing her long hair in one yank.
"Name?"
"A-Anansi, sir!"
"Anansi. Sure. But that's not the name I asked for."
I ponytail-bound the white locks at her nape, pressing the dagger to her neck.
"You have real names given to you. Right?"
"......Number 18."
"There we go. Thought I wouldn't know? That Erwin wouldn't tell?"
She hadn't.
"Numbers matter more than names to you anyway."
She never imagined I'd know this far; no desire to air Empire's dirty laundry.
"One by one, from the front."
"...Number 9."
"N-next, me. 27."
One by one, their numbers. Some subtly touched lower abdomens; I noted the last, feeling hollow.
"9, 18, 27... last is 81? What sick joke."
All multiples of 9.
'Erwin got played.'
She thought she picked them herself. But this twisted taste screamed crown prince.
'Tell her? No. Don't poke the bear. Play dumb.'
Whoever helped her select was likely his lackey. Telling Erwin would just get her grilled by him on her spy source. Better for Gibraltar's safety—mine.
"Good. Introductions done. Onward. First..."
Snick.
"Eek...?!"
"Let off this time. Questions only when I allow."
I returned to my seat, severed ponytail in hand, and pushed forward the blood-and-powder cups.
"I'll use you. Buying your Empire experience."
Silence.
"Soon, Empire magitech goods arrive in Gibraltar. You'll explain them to our people. Learn Kingdom speech fast."
The front ones passed cups wisely; I filled a new one with cold water.
"Prove your worth. Want a name over a number? Show utility."
Clink.
"Raise your cups."
They did, in unison.
"Drink. Not a drop left."
Of course.
"Gibraltar's first order."
Blood was mere pigment.
"Disobedient dogs don't get kept."
White powder? Dried Somnus petals I always carried.
'Mana supplement, basically.'
Welcoming drink for Gibraltar arrivals. Somnus powder tea laced with Gibraltar's "blood" essence—rare stuff.
"Good for you. Drink it all."
Gulp.
Not a drop left.
"Lucky. No corpses on day one."
Hassle-free. Sincerely relieved.