Chapter 7

“Pardon…?”

The director stared blankly, clearly unable to process what she had just heard. Lucella calmly repeated herself.

“That is precisely why I came all the way here—to verify whether Busnier Orphanage is being run in accordance with the reports submitted to the estate.”

It was, of course, a lie.

The Duke of Bellomon had merely permitted her to enter the ducal household. He had never granted her any special authority, much less assigned her the task of inspecting orphanages.

Ordinarily, she would have avoided such a reckless bluff for fear of being exposed.

But if I make one wrong move, my precious child could die.

There was nothing she would not do to protect the future of the nephew she loved so dearly—Lucian.

More than that, however, another issue weighed heavily on her mind.

This orphanage is in even worse condition than I expected.

Cold wind poured through broken windows and damaged doors, making the building unfit for children. Black mold spread across one wall, and the cause of the children's skin diseases was painfully obvious.

Instead of laughing and playing, children barely old enough to run around spent their days cleaning. Even the meager meals they received could not be eaten in peace because they were too busy watching the director’s mood.

Watching such a sight, Lucella could not simply stand by.

It was not because she considered herself especially kind.

It was because compassion and basic decency were things any adult—any human being—should possess.

And then there are those plaques.

Several awards decorated the shelves behind the director’s desk:

“Best Orphanage for Child Development.”

“Orphanage of the Month.”

How could this place possibly deserve any of those?

She did not even need proof to guess what had happened. The director had probably funneled embezzled funds upward to influential officials, buying awards in return. Nobles, seeing only the impressive titles, would have believed they were adopting children from a reputable institution.

Even if only because I despise this woman, I can't let this continue.

Every coin spent on the orphanage came from the Bellomon ducal treasury. If the duke later questioned her actions, she could simply claim she had intervened to prevent his funds from being wasted.

Besides, this is ultimately for the sake of the duke’s own son.

If anything, the duke ought to thank her.

Thinking so, Lucella withdrew a neatly folded document from her handbag.

“According to the report submitted at the end of last month, twenty gold coins were spent repairing the windows and renovating the playground.”

She let the sentence trail off.

The director swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple visibly bobbed.

“And yet neither the windows nor the playground shows any sign of repair. Twenty gold is hardly a trivial amount.”

Ten gold coins could support an ordinary commoner family for an entire month. Twenty was twice that.

“I also hear this orphanage received a first-grade evaluation this quarter.”

Her eyes swept across the room.

“From where I stand, even a fourth-grade rating would be generous.”

The fourth grade was the lowest possible evaluation.

Yet somehow, this place had accumulated award after award.

“W-Well… winter winds have been unusually fierce this year,” the director stammered. “The repairs were damaged by the weather…”

“Oh?”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Believing he had found an escape, the director nodded vigorously.

“So the construction failed after only one month? Then it must have been substandard work. Summon the contractor immediately. I shall have them punished in the name of House Bellomon.”

Silence.

Did he really think she was foolish enough to believe such an absurd excuse?

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“I-I was merely trying to remember where I put the relevant paperwork…”

“Think carefully while I inspect the kitchen.”

“T-The kitchen? Why…?”

The director stared at her with obvious panic.

“Because I need to confirm whether the children are being properly fed.”

* * *

Peeking through the window, Amelia watched Lucella and the director converse.

Unfortunately, the tightly shut window blocked their voices, leaving only their expressions visible. Opening it was impossible—the old hinges would creak loudly.

Still, one thing was easy to infer.

The director looked miserable.

Especially after Lucella produced some mysterious papers, his face had gone completely pale.

I don't know what they're talking about, but judging from his reaction… she doesn't seem to be here to adopt a child.

Amelia breathed a sigh of relief.

She still knew little about Lucella, but anyone capable of cornering the director like this could not be entirely bad.

I've never seen him make that face before.

Watching sweat pour down his forehead was almost amusing.

Usually, he was shouting things like:

“You lazy slugs! Move faster! Can't you see the trash piled up in the corner?!”

The tyrant who barked orders at children now looked utterly pathetic.

Suppressing a giggle behind her hand, Amelia turned away from the office and headed for the kitchen.

I promised Edwin I'd bring him a cookie.

She needed to steal one before Lucella and the director finished talking.

The moment she stepped inside, a foul odor assaulted her nose.

Rotting ingredients.

Winter weather should have slowed spoilage considerably, but somehow the staff had managed the impossible.

Let's see…

Pinching her nose shut with one hand, Amelia walked toward the cabinet beside the oven. If memory served her correctly, the cookies were stored there.

Found them.

She quickly discovered a paper bag tucked inside a drawer.

But her satisfaction lasted only a moment.

Every cookie had been gnawed by rats.

I promised Edwin…

Of all things, Amelia hated lies the most.

Granted, she herself was forced to lie about her identity to avoid being adopted.

Even so, she had no desire to break a promise made to Edwin.

After hesitating, she selected one cookie and carefully cut away every part the rats had chewed.

The once palm-sized treat was reduced to half its original size.

Still, that wasn't entirely bad. A smaller cookie would be easier to hide.

I should get back before anyone notices.

She had just wrapped it in paper and slipped it into her pocket.

“Is this the kitchen?”

A voice sounded nearby.

Amelia froze.

Two sets of footsteps were approaching.

I can't let them catch me!

If anyone discovered she had entered the kitchen without permission, she might be punished by going hungry all day.

What do I do?

Looking desperately for a hiding place, her eyes landed on a massive storage jar used for roasted oats.

It was easily large enough to conceal a child.

Without hesitation, Amelia lifted the lid and curled herself inside.

The instant she closed it, Lucella and the director entered the kitchen.

That was close.

But relief quickly gave way to curiosity.

Why have they come here?

Especially with the terrified director trailing behind.

Carefully lifting the lid a tiny crack, Amelia peeked outside.

The first thing she saw was Lucella standing with a deep frown, pinching her nose shut.

“What is that smell?”

“Food waste, my lady,” the director answered hurriedly. “The disposal schedule depends on the day of the week.”

“It’s the middle of winter, and it smells this terrible?”

Ignoring the explanation, Lucella sniffed the air like a hunting dog and followed the odor.

It did not take long to locate the source.

“My, the food waste is being stored quite beautifully.”

Silence.

“In fact, if it weren’t rotten, you could probably cook with it as is.”

The sarcasm cut like a knife.

The director had no reply.

Had Lucella not visited today, those spoiled ingredients would likely have ended up in the children's stomachs.

But that was hardly the only problem.

“Why are fresh ingredients stored next to the garbage? It's filthy.”

“The floor is covered in grime.”

“This amount of food is supposed to feed twenty children? Are you trying to starve them into malnutrition?”

Lucella tore through the kitchen inspection mercilessly.

Gone was the warm woman who had played with the children.

In her place stood someone cold and uncompromising.

“What is being served for today's snack?”

“S-Snack?”

Of course there wasn't one.

At Busnier Orphanage, the children were expected to be grateful if they received three meals a day at all.

Unable to admit that, the director hurriedly opened a drawer.

“H-Here! Butter cookies prepared for the children.”

“…Are you mocking me?”

The instant Lucella unwrapped the package, her expression darkened.

“You intended to feed the children cookies that have been chewed by rats?”

“I-It wasn't intentional! I had no idea the rats had gotten to them!”

“What kind of management allows today's food to be left in such a state?”

Her furious rebuke rang through the room so sharply that even Amelia instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.

“There is no need to inspect any further.”

Lucella turned toward the trembling director.

“I shall report everything that happened here to His Grace exactly as I found it.”

“M-My lady! Please forgive me! I've made a terrible mistake! Please, anything but that!”

“So you admit you've done wrong?”

“Yes! I've committed a grave offense!”

“And yet, knowing it was wrong, you never intended to correct it.”

Her gaze turned icy.

“That makes your conduct all the more disgraceful.”

“M-My lady!”

Looking down at him with chilling indifference, Lucella delivered her verdict in a voice firmer than any Amelia had ever heard.

“You, the director, and every employee of Busnier Orphanage…”

“…are hereby dismissed.”

To those standing in the kitchen, it sounded no different from a death sentence.