BRRC CH 42

Chapter 42 – The Nanny of the Abner Mansion

“A nanny, you mean?”

Anne asked once they had moved to Duchess Sharon Abner’s office.

The Duchess nodded. “Yes, a nanny.”

A short silence followed.

“So, if I understand correctly,” Anne said carefully, “there’s a child in this mansion who needs to be looked after?”

“You understand quickly,” Sharon replied, leaning back on the sofa.

“I’d like you to take care of Annelia—here, in my mansion.”

Anne’s eyes widened slightly.

But after a brief pause, she composed herself and asked seriously, “Then what will happen to the Evehill Orphanage?”

“The children who are currently living there—I’ll personally see that they’re all placed into good adoptive families.”

“…”

“After that, the orphanage will go through its closing procedures. Once you begin working here, there won’t be a headmaster to manage it anymore.”

Anne’s face darkened.

Closing Evehill Orphanage… she had never imagined such a thing.
But, thinking about it logically, it wasn’t a bad proposal at all.

Especially if all of the children were guaranteed adoption.

‘And if Duchess Abner herself arranges it, those families will be good ones.’

For the children waiting for a home, this could be an incredible opportunity.

“It’s a generous offer, but…”

Anne’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t easily give an answer.

She loved the children.

After her only relative—her aunt—had died from illness, she had inherited the orphanage and devoted her life to it.
Evehill had become her home, her workplace, and her refuge all at once.

She took pride in caring for those children.
She truly believed she was good at it—and that it was her calling.

At least, she had believed that until she heard what Annelia told her a few days ago.

***

“I was poisoned at the Longtern mansion.”
“Everyone hated me. Especially after the Duke’s real daughter, Hyana, came back.”
***

Anne remembered what Annelia had said.

How the man she had called “Father,” Duke Lambert Longtern, had changed.
How cruelly he had treated her—how he had abandoned and left her to die.

The guilt crushed Anne’s chest.

‘I should’ve checked. I should’ve made sure she’d be safe.’

Instead of being happy that a “great noble family” wanted to adopt one of her orphans, she should have been suspicious.

But Annelia had said something that broke her heart even more.

***

“I didn’t go back to find you, Teacher.
I didn’t want to make you feel guilty.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done anyway.
It only would’ve made you sad.”
***

Anne could still see her face—calm, dry, not even a tear was shed.
A five-year-old shouldn’t be able to look that resigned.

It had hurt too much to even look at her.

‘Maybe… I don’t deserve to care for her again.’

Realistically, she couldn’t check up on every child who left her orphanage.
She didn’t have the means or the connections to know how they were all doing.

Even if Annelia said it was “all in the past,” Anne couldn’t see it that way.
Because the truth was, her own negligence had led to that child’s death in her previous life.

Her hands, still bandaged and not fully healed, clenched tightly in her lap.

Then Sharon Abner spoke again.

“If you’re still unsure, how about this—when Annelia gets a little older, I’ll help you open a public orphanage nearby.”

“What?”

Anne lifted her head.

The Duchess met her gaze with a steady, serious look.

“The reason we need a nanny now is because Annelia is still far too young.
She tries to act far too mature for her age—that’s the real problem.”

“…”

“But with you around, she seems… less guarded.”

Anne was speechless.

The Duchess continued quietly.

“I take responsibility for what happened. This incident was, in large part, my fault.”

Anne blinked. She hadn’t expected those words.

The truth was, part of her had resented the Duchess.
Annelia’s wounds were too severe not to feel that way.

Of course, she also understood—
Sharon Abner had no true obligation to protect Annelia.

She had already given the girl money, shelter, fine clothes, and even two personal attendants.
No other noble would have done that for a common orphan.

***

“The Duchess isn’t at fault, really,”
Annelia had said.
“She couldn’t have known an assassin would come.”
***

That was what the child herself had said—
with a tone that implied she already had some idea of who might have been behind it.

Still, Anne had felt a little resentment toward Sharon Abner.

“We don’t know the child like you do,” Sharon said quietly.
“She insists she can do everything alone, and foolishly enough—I believed her.”

The Duchess sighed and shook her head.

“She said she could bathe alone, dress alone, sleep, and eat alone… she refused any help.”

Anne couldn’t help but let out a small, helpless laugh.
So Annelia was acting the same way here too.

“I’ve regretted it ever since this incident,” Sharon said softly.
“If I were going to bring a child into my home, I should have made proper preparations.”

“…”

“I assigned her two maids, but I must have missed something crucial.
And because of that, she was hurt—terribly hurt—and still tried not to bother anyone.”

Anne found herself staring at the Duchess in silence.

She had heard all kinds of rumors about Sharon Abner—
that she was cold, ruthless, and calculating to the core.
That she had rebuilt her crumbling house by trampling over others without mercy.

But the woman in front of her now didn’t quite fit that image.

“That’s why,” Sharon said finally, “I want you to stay by her side—as her nanny.”

Their eyes met.

Anne couldn’t look away.

The Duchess added, in a quiet but firm tone,

“I am her guardian, after all. I can’t raise a child without proper care.”

Anne hesitated for a moment and then nodded slowly.

“I’ll do it.”

Sharon blinked, almost surprised by how quickly she agreed.

‘Yes,’ Anne thought. ‘It’s what I should do.’

After everything she’d heard from Annelia—after learning how that child had died once before—
How could she refuse?

“I’ll do it, Duchess.”

If she could finally take responsibility for the child she had once lost,
Then perhaps it was fate giving her a second chance.

***

A few days later, in front of the Abner main mansion

“…Brother?”

Arwyn squinted at the figure approaching on horseback.

Someone had just entered through the front gate—
and his heart leapt when he realized who it was.

“Brother!”

It was Owen—the one he’d been waiting for so anxiously.

Owen dismounted immediately. “Arwyn. How’s your health?”

“I’m fine! But—but—”

Arwyn stammered.

Owen already knew what he wanted to ask and shook his head grimly.

“They didn’t have it. Well, not exactly—they did, but…”

Arwyn’s expression twisted. “They wouldn’t give it to you.”

“Right. The process is ridiculously long and complicated. Even if I file the paperwork now, it could take months just to get approval.”

What Owen had been trying to get was the Florentia flower—
a rare medicinal herb known for its powerful healing and anti-infection effects.

But the problem was, it was almost impossible to cultivate.
and the amount of medicine extracted from one single blossom was tiny.

“Then what do we do? If Annelia’s left like this—”

“I know. The risk of infection is high.”

Long ago—centuries back—
When the ancestors of Taranta still wielded magic, wounds like this were nothing.
A simple spell could heal even the deepest cut.

But that was long gone.

“Those useless old alchemists,” Owen muttered bitterly.
“They can make potions for war and machinery, but not a proper healing tonic?”

Still, he tried to reassure his brother.

“Don’t worry. Even if the Academy can’t supply it, I know how to get Florentia seeds another way.”

“Really?”

“There’s a merchant guild that smuggles them from a neighboring kingdom.
If I contact them, we might be able to buy some.”

He patted Arwyn’s shoulder, then headed toward the mansion.

He needed to check on Annelia first.

But when he opened her door—

“Ah! Master Owen!”

The little girl on the bed greeted him with a huge grin.

“You—!”