Chapter 5 – The Child Arrives at Abner Mansion
“Anelia.”
I lowered my gaze, unable to look Miss Anne in the eye.
“What in the world happened, hmm?”
All around us, the Abner soldiers were busy preparing for departure.
It looked like they were going to use teleportation scrolls to return to the main estate.
“The Duke said you’ll see each other again soon,” Miss Anne said softly.
“So take care of yourself, eat properly, and—”
“Lia’s okay.”
Miss Anne went silent.
“Don’t worry, teacher. Lia’s grown up now.”
And I meant it.
Even in my last life, I’d always been the type to do everything on my own.
Now that this was my second life, I was even more capable.
But Miss Anne’s face didn’t relax.
She sighed deeply.
“Lia… I just don’t understand you anymore.”
I blinked.
“I knew,” she said quietly. “That you took my seal and the carving knife from my desk.”
My mouth fell open before I could stop it.
Fine wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she continued.
“You’re right—you’re so smart. You brush your teeth, go to bed, and do everything by yourself. But even so…”
She gently took my tiny fist and opened it.
My palm was a complete mess—covered in scratches, scabs, and little red marks.
Blisters from carving the seal had burst and healed again, leaving raw spots that were still oozing slightly.
“What am I going to do with you, hmm?”
I quickly tried to pull my hand away, but Miss Anne’s voice was trembling.
“What kind of four-year-old steals her teacher’s seal and a knife?”
She glanced toward Sharon Abner and her soldiers, then lowered her voice.
“So it was when we went to the city, wasn’t it? You wrote that letter about catching mice. Why would you even think to write something like that, huh?”
My eyes darted away nervously.
“It’s a good thing the lady found it cute. Who sends a letter about catching mice to the lord’s main estate?”
I fidgeted under her gaze, avoiding her eyes—
though, in truth, my mind was racing elsewhere.
She knew? She knew I stole the seal and the carving knife?
I’d thought it was a perfect crime.
Why did I believe no one would notice?
Now that I thought about it, it was obvious.
The seal was always in the same spot on her desk,
and the carving knife was something she used often—of course she’d realize it was missing.
I sighed inwardly.
Is this because I’ve turned into a child again?
I hadn’t noticed how many holes there were in my “perfect” plan.
I’ll have to be more careful from now on.
Just then—
“The preparations are complete. We’ll depart now.”
A low voice came from behind us.
It was the tall knight who’d lifted me off the ground behind the barn.
“My name is Wendell Lucian,” he said. “I’ll be escorting Lady Anelia to Abner Castle.”
Miss Anne hesitated.
“It’s just… Lia’s never ridden a horse before…”
Wendell replied calmly, reassuringly.
“You don’t need to worry, ma’am. We’ll be using a teleportation circle.”
Miss Anne blinked in surprise.
That made sense—
not many knights called an orphanage headmistress “ma’am.”
“Then…” she began.
But before she could finish, Wendell’s strong arms lifted me up easily.
My view suddenly rose high above the ground.
Without even a proper goodbye, he carried me away from Miss Anne.
From a distance, I heard small voices calling out.
“Lia! Bye-bye!”
“See you again!”
The other children were gathered near the orphanage gate, waving at me.
I couldn’t bring myself to wave back.
I just stared at them blankly.
Those were faces I’d missed so much in my past life—
people I’d once prayed to see again, even just once.
And yet, since returning, I hadn’t even had a proper conversation with them.
“It might feel a little dizzy,” Wendell warned.
I tore my gaze away from the children and looked up at him.
“Hold on tight. If you feel sick, tell me right away. The trip will only take about two minutes.”
I nodded as his calm brown eyes met mine.
Before I knew it, we were standing in the middle of the orphanage courtyard.
A heavy hum filled the air, and my body lifted slightly.
A brilliant blue light spread out around us.
A short distance away, Sharon Abner sat astride a white horse,
her eyes fixed on the plains beyond the orphanage,
completely composed amid the flurry of activity.
The light pulsed again and again,
and a dizzy wave washed over me.
“Close your eyes,” Wendell said.
“Small bodies can’t handle the flow of magic very well—”
His voice grew faint.
And just like that, I left the Ivhill Orphanage for the second time.
***
The inner courtyard of the Abner mansion’s east wing was dim and quiet.
Jayden, sitting by the entrance, looked up when he heard footsteps.
There stood Wendell Lucian, his mother’s knight, flanked by other soldiers.
“What is it?” Jayden asked, his tone sharp.
“You have a guest,” Wendell replied with a polite bow.
Jayden frowned.
He had never liked Wendell—his mother’s loyal, overly proper knight.
“So?”
“The Duchess has assigned the guest a room on the second floor of the east wing.”
“So you’re telling me to move out of the way?”
“You’re blocking the path, sir.”
Jayden glared at him, clearly displeased.
Then he noticed something in Wendell’s arms—
a bundle wrapped tightly in thick blankets, small enough to be a child.
He frowned deeper.
“That’s the guest you’re talking about?”
“This is Lady Anelia,” Wendell answered simply.
Jayden let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
Running a hand through his silver hair—just like his mother’s—he tilted his head.
“She’s just a kid. A baby. And Mother brought her into this house?”
Wendell didn’t respond. He stood silently, as unshakable as stone.
Jayden got to his feet with an irritated sigh.
Even drunk, he still moved gracefully.
“Take her somewhere else. The east wing is mine.”
“The Duchess has ordered that Lady Anelia stay here.”
“I said—!”
He started to shout but then stopped, expression freezing.
The silver hair, the sharp nose, the piercing eyes that gleamed even in the dark—
Jayden was the very image of Sharon Abner’s strength and beauty,
a tall, lean figure with the arrogance to match.
“You tell my mother this,” he said coldly.
“The east wing is mine. I don’t care if she’s a guest or a brat—find somewhere else to keep her.”
“That’s enough, Jayden.”
A voice cut through the tension.
Jayden froze.
Behind Wendell stood Sharon Abner herself, a fur-lined coat draped over her shoulders.
Her gaze was icy.
“Are you out of your mind, speaking to my knight like that?”
“…Mother.”
“The east wing isn’t your personal tavern,” she said sharply.
“You already have your own room in the west wing.”
Unlike Wendell, Jayden couldn’t easily talk back.
Her presence alone was overwhelming.
“If you understand, go back to your room,” Sharon said curtly.
“Enough noise for one night.”
Jayden flinched, his hand tightening into a fist.
Wendell carried me past him just then—
And as he moved, a gust of wind brushed by.
The blanket around me slipped down slightly, revealing my face.
Jayden’s eyes widened.
Silver hair—like the Abner family’s—but a slightly different shade.
My eyes were closed, but the shape of my face—my forehead, nose, and lips—
made his heart jolt.
For some reason, it reminded him of someone.
He swallowed hard and hesitated.
“Where… where did you bring that child from?” he asked quietly.
Sharon’s gaze turned toward him.
She looked at her son for a long moment, then said flatly,
“She’s a child I’ve decided to sponsor.”
Jayden’s brow furrowed.
A sponsored child? So… an orphan?
He watched Wendell disappear into the hallway,
then ran a hand through his hair with a troubled look.
…Right. Of course. That’s all it is.
He forced himself to shake off the strange unease rising in his chest.
