Chapter 3
The Scarf and Two Letters
“Please, take care, ma’am.”
Nigel left the Evans Trading Company after receiving Sally’s warm send-off.
Although it was around noon when she left, the sun was already preparing to set.
A sharp wind brushed against Nigel’s face, but instead of being unpleasant, it felt refreshing.
It was as if a long-standing burden on her heart had finally been lifted.
“So… I’m really leaving…”
After handling the most urgent matters, it was only now that the reality began to sink in.
For others, this place might have been just a fleeting stop, but to Nigel, the orphanage was essentially home.
A subtle, indescribable mix of emotions—excitement for moving on, a quiet unease, neither sadness nor longing—lingered in her chest as she prepared to leave the familiar space behind.
At times like this, the scents of the cold, fresh air mixed with wood, the bustling warmth of the rooms where she never had time to pause and savor, the merchants who always sold goods at fair prices despite their hard exteriors… all of it stirred countless memories buried deep in the corners of this small rural town.
But these feelings were secondary.
‘…This isn’t the time to be daydreaming about nostalgia.’
Recalling the mountain of tasks still waiting for her, Nigel quickened her pace.
The moment of farewell arrived faster than expected.
“Nigel! Nigel…!!”
“…sniffle.”
“Don’t gooooo… Waaahhh!”
“Promise me….”
Nigel stifled a thought: If anyone heard this, they’d think someone had died.
She knew better than to make a joke; it would only make everyone’s emotions worse.
“…Just write a letter. You learned how to write letters at Sienia Academy recently, didn’t you?”
Nigel wiped Jack’s tears with a handkerchief, choosing her words carefully.
Whether her words were understood or not, the cries only grew louder.
‘There’s always the perfect trick for a moment like this.’
“I really have to get on the carriage now. Are you all going to say goodbye with tear-streaked faces?”
At Nigel’s words, the cries stopped abruptly.
It was customary: seeing off someone with a sad face would take their luck, while sending them off with a smile would give them luck.
After crying a long while, everyone forced themselves to smile—a spectacle in itself.
At that moment, swollen-eyed Jack tugged on Nigel’s sleeve.
“Why, Jack? Do you still have something to say?”
Hesitating, Jack stepped closer and revealed something hidden behind his hands.
It was… a scarf.
‘No wonder I couldn’t find it anywhere before.’
Upon closer inspection, one end of the scarf bore her name embroidered by hand.
The stitches were uneven and irregular, clearly done by the children themselves.
A warmth welled up deep in Nigel’s chest. She could barely find the right words, but finally spoke:
“…Thank you, everyone. You’ve all worked so hard.”
“I chose the thread color!”
“I did the embroidery pattern!”
The children eagerly boasted about the parts they had prepared.
Nigel looked at each of them in turn, answering simply with a grateful smile.
“Nigel.”
Then Benny, who had been quietly standing aside, approached.
Blinking, Nigel bent down, and Benny clumsily wrapped the scarf around her neck.
“I tied the scarf for you, hehe.”
Benny beamed.
Though slightly uneven, it was the warmest scarf she had ever worn.
And then…
“…Nigel.”
“Let me give you a hug.”
It was the voice she had heard every day for the past seventeen years.
Ron and Handel each embraced her in turn.
“Our daughter…”
Ron whispered softly while hugging her, and Nigel’s eyes glistened with warmth.
“I’ll write often. I’ll come back during the holidays.”
“Of course. Do as you like. This is always your home.”
Just as tears threatened to fall, the children surged forward, wrapping her in their embrace, and her tears were held back.
Nigel hugged each child lightly, whispered something to each, and then boarded the carriage.
She had arrived suddenly at the orphanage and left just as abruptly.
Ron and Handel, seeing the children calm down only briefly before bursting into tears, comforted them and re-entered the orphanage.
After putting all the children to bed, they found two letters from different senders on the table, along with checks marked for childcare in familiar handwriting.
The carriage traveled all day and arrived at the train station.
Nigel moved her stiff limbs to loosen them before stepping inside.
Unlike the slow pace of Tillin, everything here moved quickly: the walking speed of people, their speech, the constantly changing electronic boards.
When she asked the station staff where platform 9 was, each one simply waved their hands expressionlessly.
‘Where on earth is platform 9?’
It felt as if she had circled the station at least five times.
“Excuse me… you look troubled. May I help you, Lady?”
A young man with a bright smile suddenly approached. Instinctively, Nigel shook her head and quickly declined.
A shabby-looking stranger calling her ‘Lady’ with that cheery smile—nine times out of ten, they were scammers.
Just as Nigel had almost completed her tenth round of the station, someone leaned on her shoulder.
“Hmmm… the same train as me? Looks like you’re going with me!”
Startled, Nigel turned to see a young man with soft features and light brown hair smiling warmly.
“Hello! I’m Allen! And you are?”
“…Nigel.”
Taken aback by his natural friendliness, Nigel instinctively shook the hand he offered.
“Nice to meet you, Nigel. What a cool name.”
Allen waved his hand energetically.
“Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, we’re friends, right? Let’s go to platform 9 together! Let’s go!!”
“Wait…!”
Allen draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her along.
Soon, platform 9 finally came into view.
Despite hiding its location before, it had been close all along—how strange.
On the platform, a black-haired train with red sides let out a loud whistle and steamed powerfully.
As Nigel prepared to board, she noticed Allen leaning with a serious expression, chin resting on his hand, and paused.
Still, after safely arriving thanks to Allen, she could afford to listen to him for a moment.
“Hmm… I thought I’d take second class with you… but second class seems way too uncomfortable!”
…This guy?
Her silver train ticket in her coat pocket was now mercilessly crumpled.
Ignoring that, Allen continued talking excitedly.
“Well… since it’s fate that we met, how about you take my seat? I want to get closer to you!”
Now that she looked at him properly, Allen’s appearance—his clothing, his pristine hands that suggested a life of leisure—clearly marked him as a young noble.
“No.”
“Huh? What?”
“I said no.”
Despite her firm refusal, Allen stayed cheerful, sticking close to Nigel.
“Aw, come on, Nigel!”
Thus began a long back-and-forth with Allen. No matter how many times she said no, okay, or leave me alone, he clung on like talking to a wall.
A wall adorned with expensive wallpaper.
As the train’s departure time approached, no resolution came.
Then Allen extended his hand.
“How about this?”
“What?”
Nigel replied curtly.
“I’ll walk you to your seat. Also, I’ll carry your luggage!”
Allen made an “L” shape with his arm and thumped his flat, untrained muscles.
‘Sure, that young noble has probably never done real work in his life.’
Nigel snorted.
“And then we can see my seat too, and decide where you want to sit. How’s that?”
Surprisingly, it wasn’t a bad idea. She could end this tiresome tussle by just checking his seat—efficient and convenient.
“…Alright.”
For the first time since talking to Allen, Nigel actually agreed.
“Okay, I’ll do that.”
Allen’s face lit up instantly.
“Good thinking!”
He grabbed her hand firmly and shook it up and down with enthusiasm.
His grip, gentle yet confident, reminded Nigel of the orphanage children and wasn’t unpleasant.
“Alright, now I’ll carry your luggage.”
Nigel handed her square suitcase handle to Allen’s soft hands.
“Whoa! You carried this heavy thing all by yourself? What’s inside?”
Allen, proud moments ago, bent awkwardly under the weight in an instant.
“Then give it back if it’s too heavy.”
“No, I’m supposed to carry it.”
“Fine, then.”
Nigel let Allen struggle behind her as she boarded the train.
“…Could you ask one more time?”
Allen’s voice sounded pitiful.
“You only get one chance.”
“So harsh, Nigel.”
“Life is a battlefield. No one’s going to go easy on anyone.”
“Haah.”
Allen yawned widely.
“Oh, sorry. What did you just say?”
“…Never mind.”
“Aw, come on, tell me, okay?”
“No, it’s nothing important.”
To someone like a rich young noble… it didn’t matter.
“Hmmm… I’m curious.”
Allen hesitated.
“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but let’s go our separate ways here. Not a bad proposal, right?”
“Nigel, where did you say your seat was?”
Allen passed by Nigel, summoning every bit of strength to lift the luggage onto the train.
Nigel gave a wry smile and followed him aboard.
Then, someone called out to her.
“Um… Excuse me.”
