The Little Tyrant of the Orphanage (2)
The birth of Ruby Gibraltar, the fourth child of the Gibraltar count family.
As always, the arrival of a new life was cause for celebration. Especially when it was Gibraltar blood. All the more so after seven long years. And the fact that it was a daughter set countless hearts fluttering.
Letar, now seven years old, was said to be so beautiful. Many young lords were already salivating at the thought of her face, their futures bright with promise. And now another daughter had been born? By now, noble houses across the land were likely scrambling to produce heirs of their own or arranging marriages with children of similar age.
Whatever those outside the countship might think, inside its borders, a festival was in full swing. A modest affair confined to the territory—no grand invitations or external guests. Just simple revelry with ale and meat, a one-night party for all.
A quiet night.
The hour when all had drifted to sleep. A deep slumber for me after so long.
I wonder if I can start training in my room again from tomorrow.
If Mother started tempting Father into making a fifth child, that would buy me time to hone my skills.
I need to reach at least Intermediate Knight level.
My current strength was merely that of a Beginner Knight. Not even a match for Sir Robert. I might not beat him outright, but I needed to hold my own—at least force a draw.
Once relations with the Empire improve, shadows will start infiltrating Gibraltar from every corner.
The dangers weren't just one or two. With two ticking bombs planted right in the countship—ones I knew could explode at any moment—I needed overwhelming power to fend off those who came to detonate them.
Should I ask them for help?
It bordered on fraud, but leveraging my knowledge of the future, I knew a way to recruit powerful allies.
It's risky, but they won't want the world plunged into chaos either.
Those who styled themselves the world's guardians. If I succeeded in bringing them on board, at least one bomb could be safely defused. As for the other—
"Wuuung..."
"......"
Flutter.
The blanket slid to the side. I hadn't touched it—the girl sleeping soundly beside me had simply yanked it away.
Still the same as ever.
Was a night in the mansion, away from the orphanage, making her a bit uneasy? She'd grown so used to the orphanage beds that my room's felt unfamiliar?
She sleeps so carefree.
Another bomb. Astasia, granddaughter of the Empire. The girl was now sleeping soundly not in the orphanage, but in the mansion—in my bed.
For now, I'm guarding her even at night like this, but who knows what might happen.
If anything happened to this girl, the Empire would use it as a pretext for war. Why was the imperial granddaughter in Gibraltar? That wouldn't matter. The moment she was "eliminated," they'd fabricate any justification to invade.
So I had to protect her. That's why I stuck by her side every night—
Even at the orphanage, it's not like we share a room outright.
After she first claimed my bed, I had reasons to keep staying in my own room. To the outside world—
Grey Gibraltar's so smitten with the white-haired girl he's letting her into his bedroom already.
That's the rumor they'd spread. The Empire might be skeptical at first, but if it persisted, they'd buy it completely.
She sleeps so deeply. Wouldn't even notice if someone kidnapped her.
No impure motives here.
Which is exactly why I need to stay close and watch over her.
This was purely protection—for Astasia, and to prevent war between kingdom and Empire.
I can't trust anyone else with it.
I couldn't relax leaving her guard to others.
Astasia aside, what about the rest?
The other side—
She's not sleeping.
Rustle, rustle.
Even at this late hour when she should be asleep, a single candle flickered on the table as pages turned.
"......"
She flipped through the book so quickly it was hard to tell if she was reading or skimming—but for this girl, that was how she read. How she memorized.
Astasia wasn't the only one needing attention. The second bomb, Princess Naria, was much the same.
Officially, the king's drunken ravings never happened.
The palace had shown no reaction yet.
If anything, they seem to hope Gibraltar keeps watching her.
Saint Geo Nostrum was holed up quietly in the palace, and Morgania wanted the princess to stay put.
Do they think sending more people would give it away? Or that Sir Mente's presence is enough?
Neither the royals nor Morgania had dispatched additional escorts. It wasn't abandonment—they'd simply buried her whereabouts by sending no one at all.
They might not know where Princess Naria is, but we'd notice if the palace sent knights.
Even an incompetent king like Saint Geo could uncover his daughter's location if he tried.
But trying to guard everything ourselves feels off somehow.
Sir Mente and Sir Robert alternated shifts outside my training hours, true—but—
I need more hands.
Even if those two were beyond worry, I couldn't leave things so precarious.
Time to find some.
Ones I had to recruit. Ones worth the risk. Or—
Even kids can serve as fodder if they're loyal enough, young as they are.
Training the orphanage children as guards was an option. More like retainers, really.
"Princess Naria."
"...Yes."
I neatly tucked Astasia's blanket as I addressed the princess.
"Have you ever thought about learning a weapon?"
"A weapon?"
"Yes. There's one I think you'd take to..."
Not in this room, but I knew from the future the one she wielded masterfully.
"Soon, we'll add physical training to the orphanage curriculum. Practice it then."
"You won't tell me what it is?"
"No. Let's save the surprise."
"Understood."
Naria nodded lightly and returned to her book.
Come to think of it.
"That book you borrowed from Father's study—what's it about?"
"......"
"Just idle curiosity. It's routine for you to burn the midnight oil instead of sleeping, but usually it's studies."
As Javier at the orphanage, she studied in the room next to mine till late every night.
"The cover looked unfamiliar."
She reviewed imperial language and other subjects meticulously until midnight.
"I thought I knew Father's collection, but I guess not."
"Just browsing. If I don't, my head starts to ache."
As if trying to erase nightmares bubbling up from her studies.
"So, what's the content?"
"History of Nostrum and Gibraltar. Tales of the founders. And secrets of the gorge."
"The gorge?"
My ears perked up.
"Does the book mention that?"
"No. Nothing."
"......Let's see. Ah, so it's a chronicle of our ancestors."
"Not in it, but just in case."
Princess Naria was searching for something.
Maybe.
No. This isn't the princess of a fallen kingdom I knew.
If Naria had regressed with me, she wouldn't watch me like this. Even if feigning ignorance, no.
If so, she'd have knelt Saint Geo long ago and puppeteered him like the emperor did.
Crude as it sounded, the two shared traits.
If the future princess had returned.
She'd have bound Saint Geo as a puppet. No way she'd let a drunken king's blade nearly sever her throat.
Then—
"Any interesting stories you've heard? About Gibraltar Gorge."
Tales of secret weapons I'd half-known since before my 13th birthday, from long ago.
"I'm curious. Care to share?"
"......"
Princess Naria glanced at Astasia.
Snore, snore.
She was asleep. Not feigning it, ears perked for our talk.
"Don't tell a soul."
She whispered, mindful of our surroundings.
"When I was one. The king whispered it in my ear."
"...One?"
"Yes. He said, 'Until you meet the gorge's founding dragon.'"
Naria spoke slowly, as if dredging memory.
"You remember something from age one?"
"Ever since birth."
She closed the book.
"More like piecing together sounds from then into current language."
"...Skip the details. So, what did the king say?"
"A dragon lives in the gorge."
"...A dragon?"
"Yes."
Naria shrugged and rose.
"They say a dragon from legend dwells in the gorge."
"Is it the mother of the egg the king scarfed down...?"
"No. Not some puny wyvern—the legendary dragon itself."
She opened a page.
"Golden Dragon, Geo Nostrum."
On the first page, an ancient gold dragon with wings spread wide. Vast compared to the two humans below, its body legendarily 100 meters long.
"That's the founding myth."
"Does Sir Grey think dragons don't exist?"
"Not nonexistent, but propaganda to bolster royal authority, modeled on real dragons."
Otherwise, why would a 100-meter legend shrink to 5-meter wyverns today?
"But if a dragon lives in the gorge, how did the king know?"
"Who knows. Some quirk of this bloodline."
Naria approached the window, gazing at the moon.
"If I learned it somehow, Sir Grey."
"Yes."
"Men lose self-control when drunk, don't they?"
"......"
No way.
"Heard anything else?"
"'You're my spare part'?"
"......"
Drunk-ranting that to a one-year-old? Unaware she had total recall?
Back then?
"Watch the drink, Sir Grey."
"Noted."
I won't end up like the incompetent king.
"It's late anyway."
Conversation over. Nearly one a.m.
"Even as Javier from tomorrow, you can't stay up forever. Sleep now."
"But..."
"Skimp on sleep, and growth suffers."
Per imperial nutrition and human development theory.
"I hear good rest makes you tall and strong."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Imperial papers."
"Didn't see it in the ones I showed you."
"Not all of them."
I shifted aside on the bed, patting the spot next to Astasia.
"Sleep well."
"Come to think of it."
Naria nodded vigorously, pattering over to lie primly beside Astasia.
"I heard Mother slept just four hours a day since childhood and still worked."
"......"
"Sir Grey. Come sleep here too."
She scooted over, making space between her and Astasia.
"Hurry. You need early sleep to grow tall and sturdy."
"That's—"
"Astasia said last time."
She pointed at the deeply sleeping Astasia.
"Knights need to be as tall as Sir Robert."
"......"
Now that she mentioned it.
"I am getting sleepy."
Right on time.
"Complicated thoughts later. Early bed tonight."
I approached Naria, draping a fresh blanket over her.
"Sir Grey?"
"I'll sleep fine. But."
I pointed to the sofa.
"On the sofa."
"Why? Three of us would fit."
"Sleeping between you two... I'd never manage."
"......??"
"In every way."