Chapter 7

* * *

It was bedtime after finishing the day's work.

"Did you finish washing up?"

In response to my question, Damian nodded and fidgeted with the damp towel.

Beyond his wet, drooping hair, I could see his cheeks flushed red.

When we slept together, I noticed that Damian seemed to have a higher average body temperature than other children.

I thought that if I poked his cheek, it would feel as soft as a rice cake.

I resisted the urge to touch, knowing I couldn't just poke him at will.

"Feeling refreshed after washing up?"

"…Yeah."

Damian nodded immediately. His head moved so quickly that water droplets fell from his hair.

'Does a wet dog look like this?'

I held the towel over my shoulder and beckoned with my hand.

"Come here."

Damian approached me as if he had been waiting. He even bowed his head when I held the towel.

I stifled a chuckle and gently dried his hair.

"There, all done."

I smoothed his fine hair.

It was a habit I had developed from drying children's hair.

Damian's pale face was revealed again.

His rosy cheeks, clear and bright blue eyes, and long lashes blinking slowly as he looked up at me were so captivating.

"…It's bad for the heart."

I quickly lowered Damian's head.

I thought about cutting his hair to avoid irritation, but seeing his beautiful face changed my mind.

If the nobles who came to adopt a foster child saw Damian's face, they would definitely take him.

Absolutely not. Damian's foster father had to be Duke Schuets.

'So, Damian, just bear with it a little longer.'

I took a step back from Damian.

He opened his eyes wide.

His clear eyes, peeking through his black hair, seemed to ask, 'Did I do something wrong?'

But I couldn't say something like, 'Your face is dangerous.'

"Let's go to bed now."

I quickly pointed to Damian's bed.

"Damian's bed is over there. From today, you'll sleep there by yourself."

"By myself?"

"Yeah. Why? Is something wrong?"

In response to my question, Damian pursed his lips and glanced at me a few times.

Does he have something to say? I tilted my head.

But there was no follow-up.

Damian, who had clenched his fists, closed his mouth and went to his bed obediently.

So, lying in bed, I turned to face the direction of Damian's bed.

"Damian."

Just calling his name made Damian flinch. He still had his back to me.

"Sleep well and have good dreams."

After a while, a small voice replied.

"Ellie, have good dreams too."

I clamped my mouth shut.

Because Damian had called me by my name for the first time.

I didn't try to suppress the smile that crept onto my face as I closed my eyes.

Thanks to Damian, I felt I would have a good dream tonight.

* * *

The throbbing headache made the director grimace as she opened her eyes.

After returning from the casino, she had lain in bed for two days without doing anything, but the hangover hadn't gone away.

"Ugh…"

She groaned and pressed her head.

'My head feels like it's going to explode.'

Muttering curses to herself, she struggled to get up.

The day was bright, and a faint, fragrant smell suggested it was morning or early afternoon.

The children would soon bring their breakfast.

But the splitting headache made it impossible to wait.

The director staggered to her feet.

As she entered the kitchen, she saw the children working hard. She was about to pass by indifferently but paused.

'Why is that slave here?'

She frowned.

She had become increasingly impatient lately.

It had been a long time since the war ended, and the war orphans had grown up.

She needed to send the children to adoption before they grew any older.

But she had to take on such an insignificant child.

'If only I hadn't lost that game…'

She usually wouldn't have lost.

But she had drunk a lot that day. She lost the game pointlessly and incurred a large debt.

In the midst of her despair, the opponent made a proposal.

If she took care of the child until he returned, he would forgive the debt.

So she took the child.

She told the children that he was a new friend, but he was supposed to leave soon.

To be precise, he was a slave with an owner.

But why was such a worthless slave working in the kitchen with her children?

If anyone found out she was making someone else's slave work, they might pick a fight.

Just as the director was about to approach Damian,

"These brats! Why aren't you going inside?!"

"Let go of me!"

"We didn't do anything wrong!"

Suddenly, a commotion broke out. The children working in the kitchen and the director looked toward the source of the noise.

There, her niece and teacher, Malen, was scolding other students.

The students Malen had caught were known troublemakers.

They were getting older and causing more problems, giving her a headache.

"Oh, Director! You're up!"

Malen, spotting the director, brought the students to her.

"What's going on?"

"The teachers say

these children have been causing trouble lately. They need education, but they keep rebelling. They even stole bread from the storage."

"No, we didn't steal anything!"

"We only received the bread!"

"Quiet, brats! This isn't the first time you've stolen!"

The atmosphere became serious, but it was a familiar scene.

She clicked her tongue.

"Making a fuss over this. Malen, I'll leave the education to you."

"Yes, understood."

"Wait a moment!"

At that moment, Carsen shouted.

"That guy was there too!"

Carsen pointed at Damian.

If he told the truth, he would be called a liar and couldn't get away alone.

"That kid slipped away on his own!"

All eyes turned to Damian.

If it were another child, they would have looked around nervously or burst into tears out of fear.

But Damian just stood there.

His demeanor suggested he was very used to being the center of attention.

'That child?'

The director's eyes sharpened.

"No, that day Damian didn't go into the storage."

At that moment, someone intervened in their confrontation.

Elli, who had suddenly hidden Damian behind her back, spoke calmly.

"Damian was with me in the room all day because he was sick."

"Hey! Elli! Why are you lying again!"

"Really, Director. Please believe me."

"You were the one who led us to the storage!"

Even Carsen's subordinates, who had been silent, scolded Elli.

But Elli didn't flinch.

"Director, you know how much these children have bullied others."

She stood straight and reminded them of the facts.

Elli's words made the director narrow her eyes.

Bright blonde hair and clear green eyes. A striking appearance, but a child who showed no particular interest in adoption.

And.

'The daughter of a famous thief who shook the empire.'

Her mother was caught stealing and hanged on the outskirts of the city.

The director brought Elli to her orphanage, where she stared at her mother's hanging body.

Elli's striking appearance, even more noticeable than most nobles, made it easy to find an adoptive family.

But when the nobles later discovered the truth, they came to the director demanding to return her.

They were worried about being associated with the royal family.

The director had no choice but to bring Elli back to the orphanage.

"…Teacher, why did I come back to the orphanage?"

"Are you asking because you don't know? It's because of your lowborn mother, isn't it?"

On the way back, the director hurled sharp words at Elli.

After that, Elli closed her mouth.

And she maintained a well-behaved attitude until now. Until now.

'But why is she stepping forward now?'

What is this child's intention?

The director's sleepy eyes slowly scanned over Elli.