Chapter 5
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Chapter 5 'Why does there seem to be a hierarchy?' I alternated my gaze between the children standing near me and the group seated far away in the corner. The children who played with me had neat appearances. Their clothing and hair were relatively well-maintained. I could almost imagine them looking like children from noble households with just a bit more care. But the children in the corner were different. Some had faces covered in freckles, while others had reddened skin from skin conditions. Most of them wore shaggy hair that obscured their eyes. Their clothing told the same story. Unlike the children in better condition who wore at least clean garments, those in the corner wore rags barely worthy of the name. 'What on earth...?' That was when the original narrative came to mind. [The director lavished attention only on the pretty children. The prettier and more handsome the child, the higher the likelihood of adoption.] It's human nature to favor beauty and cuteness. Presenting pretty, charming children to potential adoptive families would naturally increase the success rate of adoptions compared to showing children with no prospects. 'The director must have groomed the pretty children and paraded them before the nobility. Those separated from the group with adoption potential naturally got pushed into the corners.' Children are more intelligent and cunning than one might think. Those children chosen by the director would naturally seize dominance and rule over the others. Those children who knew no one would ever choose them could only shrink away. 'Wow, that's really cruel.' The fact that even this small space had its own hierarchy was shocking. But what angered me most was the director who had created all of this. None of this would have happened if the director hadn't discriminated among the children in the first place. 'I can't blame these children. They chose these actions to escape this place however they could.' I exhaled a long, heavy sigh. Though I had come knowing the Orphanage was a mess, I hadn't realized the rot ran this deep, and my heart felt all the heavier for it.
"Well, dinner is all prepared!"
Just then, the director and staff wheeled in carts laden with food.
"Wow, children! It's time for a delicious meal?"
I deliberately raised my voice to draw the children's attention. But there was no need for the effort. Unlike their hesitant behavior toward me earlier, the children sprang to their feet like puppies spotting a treat.
"Seems like everyone's quite hungry."
"Haha, they're at that age where they grow so quickly."
As a long, low table was placed in the center, the children settled into their seats as if they'd been waiting. Soon, steaming mushroom soup and bread were set upon the table.
"Had I known a guest was coming, I would have prepared more carefully, but since this was done on short notice, I'm afraid it's quite-" "Wow! There's so much!"
"The bread isn't even hard!"
Exclamations burst forth from all around before the director could even finish her modesty. From their reactions, it seemed they normally ate far worse than this.
"That time when we ate cold soup and my stomach hurt so much-."
"Ahem, Mae." .... The director's throat-clearing silenced the chattering child. The same effect rippled through the others.
"That was because it was cold that day and the soup cooled quickly. You understand, don't you?"
"Yes, yes."
"Good, you're such good children."
Pat, pat—I tapped his back, and the small child's body swayed. 'I was going to sit next to Edwin. But it seems better to sit next to the Orphanage Director.' If I'm right beside them, the children won't receive those murderous glares. They'll have some sense of propriety, after all. I was just about to take a step toward the Director's seat when— "Ah, Miss Lucian should sit over there."
A staff member placed a large plate between the children as they spoke. By its size, it seemed to be my portion.
"The children seem to follow Miss Lucian quite well."
I couldn't refuse so bluntly when they put it that way. I took the seat the staff member suggested. Across from me sat the Brown-haired Girl who had been so affectionate, and to my left was the Large-eyed Boy. And to my right.... 'Wow, she's really pretty.' There was a girl with a distinctly striking appearance. Her golden hair, as if melted from pure gold, seemed all the more radiant in contrast to the drab colors of this place. Her round eyes held jade-green irises that sparkled with freshness, and long lashes the same color as her hair cast a subtle shadow over her gaze. 'Can you even use the word "elegant" to describe a person?' She was a child who perfectly embodied the kind of language used to describe beautiful landscapes. Despite appearing to be around Lucian's age, she possessed a remarkably refined presence. And as far as I knew, there was only one girl in this Orphanage with such a striking appearance.
"What's your name?"
"Me?"
The child pointed to her chest with a plump finger, and I nodded. The girl rolled her emerald eyes for a moment before finally speaking.
"I'm Amelia."
"...That's a beautiful name."
Just as I thought. I nodded as if it were nothing and spooned up some soup. But my heart was racing wildly. Amelia was the female protagonist of "From Bastard to Patriarch."
Amelia cares for and cherishes the unusually introverted Edwin like an older sister. Edwin, in turn, opens his guarded heart only to her. However, the time they spend together ends when Claude Agris, Amelia's uncle and a Marquis, comes to find her. Claude Agris was not originally a Marquis. The original head of the Marquis house was Ian Agris, Amelia's father, but when the Marquis and his wife died in a carriage accident, Claude, Ian's younger brother, inherited the title. 'He's the person who raised Amelia to become a virtuous adult.' Amelia was also in the carriage when the accident occurred. However, only two bodies were found; the body of a young girl was never discovered. The accident had been so severe that the probability of Amelia's survival seemed slim. Yet Claude never abandoned hope that she was alive. Because no body was found. Perhaps she was too small to be found, or perhaps she was thrown from the carriage during the impact. People spoke of such possibilities, but Claude refused to give up. Having lost his parents early, his brother was like a father to him. To find his beloved brother's child, he traveled day and night throughout the Empire. In the end, he succeeded in finding his niece. It had been three years since Amelia's disappearance. 'Come to think of it, our circumstances are quite similar.' We both lost our parents early, the brother who was like a parent to us passed away long ago, and we both struggle for the sake of the one blood relative we have left in this world. 'But the future we will face will be different.' Claude had always intended to pass his title to Amelia. Returning to the Marquis's estate, Amelia would receive heir training, grow stronger, and eventually become a tremendous asset when Edwin assumed leadership of the Duke's household. Once she survived her time at the Orphanage, a brilliant future awaited her. But that was not my fate. I had no wealth to leave Lucian, no title to pass down, and no power to protect him. Worse still, the path laid before Lucian was a thorny one—villainy and a gruesome end. 'If things are this dire, I need to earn some favor with Amelia.' So that for my sake, if nothing else, she might show mercy to my Lucian.
"How old is Amelia?"
I fished a chunk of meat from my soup and placed it on Amelia's spoon. Amelia's eyes darted between the meat and me before she opened her mouth.
"...Seven years old."
Claude Agris would visit the Orphanage in the summer when Amelia turned nine. Which meant roughly a year and a half remained before her uncle arrived.
"I thought you were the same age as my nephew. So you're a year older?"
"...Is that so?"
Amelia's expression as she asked seemed somehow displeased. 'Did I misspeak?' Perhaps my comment—that she resembled a child a year younger—had wounded her pride. Children were sensitive about their height, after all. The orphans here were already smaller than their peers due to malnutrition.
"What I meant was, you're so adorable. You see, my nephew is also...."
I was in the midst of offering a pathetic excuse to lift her spirits when—clack—Amelia set down her spoon.
"Sister."
"Huh? Y-yes?"
"My father is a murderer."
"Wh-what...?"
"He's killed quite a lot of people. Not just one or two. Frightening, isn't it?"
"...."
"And my mother is a thief."
"...."
I was rendered speechless by how brazenly Amelia stated what should have been shameful secrets. Seeing me standing there stupidly, blinking like an idiot, Amelia opened her mouth with a warning tone.
"So be careful."
"...."
"Blood doesn't lie, you know. Who's to say? I might just help myself to your belongings."
Amelia glanced at my pocket, then returned her attention to her meal. Despite having just dropped such a bombshell, her expression remained utterly serene and unbothered. 'What? Just now?' Flustered, I glanced around. The director and staff were seated too far away to have overheard our conversation, and the children near me continued eating as if nothing unusual had happened. As if this were an everyday occurrence. 'But your parents were high nobility! The masters of the prestigious Agris house, no less!' Yet a murderer and a thief...? '...Wait a moment.' I rummaged through my memories, searching for details absent from the original work, and soon succeeded in recalling a crucial fact. [Amelia had never doubted that her uncle would find her. For that to happen, she could not be adopted. She could not let their paths diverge. So Amelia had employed every method at her disposal to prevent her own adoption.] In the original work, the account of the past was described only briefly, so I had no way of knowing what methods she had used. 'But this was the method she used to prevent adoption?'
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