Chapter 5

‘Why does it feel like there’s a hierarchy here?’

I glanced back and forth between the children gathered around me and the group sitting far away in the corner.

The children playing near me looked neat and presentable. Their clothes, though simple, were clean, and their hair had been combed with care. With just a little more grooming, they could easily pass for the sons and daughters of minor nobles.

The children in the corner were different.

Some had faces covered in freckles, while others had skin reddened by illness. Most wore shaggy bangs that hung low enough to hide their eyes.

Their clothes were even worse. While the first group wore garments that were at least clean, the children in the corner were dressed in little more than rags.

Why…?

Then a passage from the original novel surfaced in my mind.

The orphanage director devoted her attention only to the pretty children. The prettier and more handsome they were, the more likely they were to be adopted.

People were naturally drawn to beauty. If your goal was to secure adoptions, it made sense—from a cold, calculating perspective—to present the adorable, charming children rather than those with little chance of finding families.

The director must have dressed up the attractive children and paraded them in front of visiting nobles. The others, deemed unlikely to be adopted, were gradually pushed into the shadows.

Children were sharper than most adults gave them credit for.

Those favored by the director would naturally claim the upper hand and lord it over the rest.

And the children who knew no one would ever choose them had no choice but to shrink into themselves.

Wow… that’s genuinely awful.

The realization that even this tiny orphanage had its own pecking order was shocking.

But what angered me most was the director who had created it all.

None of this would have happened if she hadn’t treated the children differently in the first place.

I can’t blame the kids. They’re just doing whatever they can to escape this place.

I let out a heavy sigh.

I had come here knowing the orphanage was in poor condition, but I hadn’t realized the rot ran this deep.

“Alright, everyone! Lunch is ready!”

Right on cue, the director and several staff members rolled carts laden with food into the hall.

“Wow! Kids, it’s time for a delicious meal!”

I deliberately raised my voice to draw their attention.

In truth, I didn’t need to.

Moments earlier they had approached me with hesitation, but the instant food appeared, they shot to their feet like puppies spotting a treat.

“You all must have been very hungry.”

“Haha. They’re growing children, after all.”

A long, low table was set in the center of the room, and the children hurried to take their seats as though they had been waiting all morning.

Soon steaming bowls of mushroom soup and fresh bread were placed before them.

“If only we’d known such an honored guest would visit today, we would have prepared something better. This was arranged so suddenly that it’s rather lacking—”

“Wow! There’s so much!”

“And the bread isn’t hard!”

The children’s delighted cries cut off the director’s false modesty.

Judging by their reactions, they usually ate meals far worse than this.

“Remember that time we had cold soup and my stomach hurt so ba—”

“Ahem, May.”

“...”

The moment the director cleared her throat, the chattering girl fell silent.

So did everyone else.

“That day the weather was simply too cold, so the soup cooled down quickly. You understand, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Good girl.”

The director patted the child on the back, making the little girl’s small frame wobble.

I was planning to sit beside Edwin… but maybe it’s better if I stay near the director.

If I sat close enough, perhaps she wouldn’t dare glare threateningly at the children.

Just as I started toward the seat beside her—

“Ah, Lady Lilfrey, please sit over there instead.”

One of the attendants set a large plate among the children. Judging by its size, it was meant for me.

“The children seem especially fond of you.”

Saying no after that would have been awkward.

So I took the seat she indicated.

Across from me sat the brown-haired girl who had warmly welcomed me earlier. To my left was a boy with enormous eyes.

And to my right…

Wow. She’s unbelievably pretty.

A girl with striking beauty sat quietly beside me.

Her golden hair looked as though it had been spun from molten sunlight, standing out all the more against the drab surroundings.

Nestled in her round eyes were vivid green irises, fresh and bright like spring leaves, while long golden lashes cast delicate shadows across her cheeks.

Can you describe a person as picturesque?

The word fit her perfectly.

She couldn’t have been much older than Lucian, yet she possessed an elegance that seemed far beyond her years.

And as far as I knew, there was only one girl in this orphanage with looks that remarkable.

“What’s your name?”

“Me?”

She pointed a chubby finger at herself.

I nodded.

After rolling her emerald eyes around for a moment, she finally answered.

“Amelia.”

“…That’s a beautiful name.”

Just as I thought.

I calmly scooped up a spoonful of soup, pretending nothing was unusual.

Inside, however, my heart was pounding.

Because Amelia was the heroine of From Illegitimate Child to Family Head.

She had been the one person who treated the withdrawn Edwin like a younger brother, showering him with kindness and affection. In return, Edwin opened the tightly locked doors of his heart to her alone.

But their time together came to an end when Amelia’s uncle, Marquis Claude Agris, finally found her.

Claude Agris had not originally been the marquis.

The head of House Agris had once been Amelia’s father, Ian Agris. But after the marquis and his wife died in a carriage accident, Ian’s younger brother Claude inherited the title instead.

He was the adult who helped Amelia grow into the good person she became.

Amelia herself had been riding in that ill-fated carriage.

Only two bodies were recovered.

The body of the little girl was never found.

The accident had been so catastrophic that most believed there was no chance she had survived.

Claude refused to accept that.

No body had been discovered.

Maybe she had simply been too small to find. Maybe she had been thrown clear of the wreck.

No matter what others said, he never gave up.

Having lost his parents young, his older brother had been like a father to him.

To find his beloved brother’s daughter, Claude searched every corner of the Empire without rest.

In the end, he succeeded.

But it was three whole years after Amelia’s disappearance.

Come to think of it, our situations are strangely alike.

We had both lost our parents early.

We had both lost the sibling who had been like a parent.

And we both struggled desperately for the sake of the one remaining child in our family.

But the futures awaiting us couldn’t be more different.

Claude had intended from the beginning to pass the marquisate to Amelia.

Once she returned to the estate, she received the education of an heir, grew into a capable noblewoman, and later became one of Edwin’s greatest allies when he inherited the ducal house.

As long as she survived her years in the orphanage, a bright future was guaranteed.

I couldn’t say the same.

I had no fortune to leave Lucian.

No title to pass down.

No power to protect him.

And the path laid out before him in the original story led only to villainy and a gruesome death.

In that case, maybe I should start earning some goodwill with Amelia now.

If nothing else, perhaps she would show mercy to our Lucian for my sake.

“How old are you, Amelia?”

I fished a chunk of meat out of my soup and placed it onto her spoon.

She stared at the meat, then at me.

“…Seven.”

“So you’re actually a year older than my nephew.”

“…Really?”

For some reason, her expression darkened.

Did I say something wrong?

Maybe she disliked being mistaken for someone younger. Children could be sensitive about things like height and age.

Especially these children, who were all smaller than their peers from chronic malnutrition.

“What I meant was… you’re just so adorable. Because my nephew also—”

I was fumbling through an embarrassing excuse, trying to cheer her up, when—

Clack.

Amelia set her spoon down.

“Miss.”

“Y-Yes?”

“My father is a murderer.”

“…What?”

“He didn’t kill just one or two people. He killed a lot. Scary, isn’t it?”

“….”

“And my mother’s a thief.”

I was speechless.

She announced such disgraceful things with complete composure.

As I sat there blinking blankly, Amelia spoke again, almost as if issuing a warning.

“So you should be careful.”

“….”

“They say blood will tell. Who knows? Maybe I’ll steal something from you too.”

Her eyes flicked briefly toward my pocket before she calmly resumed eating, as though she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell into the conversation.

What… was that?

Flustered, I looked around.

The director and the staff sat too far away to have heard us.

The children nearby continued eating as if nothing unusual had happened.

As though this sort of thing happened every day.

But your parents were high-ranking nobles! The heads of the ancient and prestigious House Agris!

How on earth had they become a murderer and a thief?

…Wait.

Puzzled by this detail that had never appeared in the original story, I searched my memory until another passage surfaced.

Amelia never doubted that her uncle would one day find her. To make sure that happened, she had to avoid being adopted by another family. If she and her uncle missed each other, everything would be lost. So she used every method she could think of to prevent her own adoption.

The novel had glossed over her childhood, never explaining exactly what those methods were.

Don’t tell me… this was how she kept people from adopting her?