IOWYC Chapter 12

Chapter 12 

When the head of the orphanage saw the carriage with the Valdormer family crest, she looked completely shocked.

“Y-You’re from Valdormer…?”

The woman, who appeared to be in her 50s, looked very confused. Layla calmly answered her.

“Yes. This is the lady of Valdormer.”

She hesitated briefly before saying “lady,” but the headmistress didn’t notice that.

“Oh my! The lady of Valdormer coming to this humble place…!”

As the woman stood there, speechless, I forced a small smile.

“It’s cold today. Could we talk inside?”

“Oh! Of course! Please come in!”

Thanks to her warm welcome, Layla and I slowly walked into the orphanage.

The servants and knights who traveled with us had already been told to stay at a nearby inn.

“I never imagined someone so important would visit this faraway place. I’ll prepare some tea, so please have a seat.”

“Take your time.”

While the headmistress rushed off, I looked around.

Because I had been talking with her, I hadn’t noticed the small children nearby. Now, they stared at me and Layla with wide, curious eyes.

Our fine clothes must have seemed very fancy to them.

There were about ten to fifteen children, ranging in age from about three to ten.

They seemed to realize that we were different and didn’t dare come close.

A few minutes passed.

Then, the youngest child slowly waddled toward me.

He looked like he might fall at any second, so I instinctively reached out to catch him.

He looked up at me with big, innocent eyes.

“I’ll make sure the children behave,” Layla said coldly.

But I immediately replied, “It’s fine.”

I helped the child stand upright again.

“You have to be careful,” I said gently.

The child looked up at me in confusion, then said in a small voice,

“…Mama?”

The word was slurred, but I clearly understood what he meant.

I froze.

Just then, a slightly older girl—maybe six years old—rushed over and grabbed the little boy’s hand.

“Diaz! She’s not your mom!”

The girl looked embarrassed as she glanced at me, and little Diaz’s eyes started to fill with tears.

“She’s not Mama…?”

Tears welled up in his big eyes, ready to fall.

My fingers twitched involuntarily.

A forgotten feeling stirred in my chest—something painful and warm.

I gritted my teeth to hold it back.

The girl misunderstood my silence and quickly tugged Diaz’s hand.

“Mamas don’t come to places like this. Come on, I’ll play with you.”

So much was said in just that one sentence.

That their parents had abandoned them.

That the girl already knew, deep down, they would never come back.

My chest ached.

Diaz’s lips trembled as he struggled not to cry. His chin wobbled like a walnut stuck in his throat—he must’ve already learned that adults get annoyed when kids cry.

The sight reminded me painfully of Denian.

That same expression on such a young child who should only know love—not reality.

And yet, still hoping for a mother he’s never seen.

I couldn’t help myself. I moved without thinking.

“Huh?”

Before I knew it, Diaz was in my arms.

Everyone froze—the children, Layla, even Diaz himself stared at me wide-eyed.

But I just smiled at him gently.

“I’ll be your mama for today.”

Diaz blinked and asked in a puzzled voice,

“Diaz’s mama?”

His voice was uncertain, like he was scared I’d reject him. That look made me smile sadly.

“Yes,” I answered softly.

Then Diaz smiled brightly—pure and innocent, without a single shadow.

In that smile, I saw Denian again.

“Mama!”

I remembered the first time Denian said “mama.”

His tiny hand was gripping my finger tightly.

His bright eyes and innocent smile always followed me.

“Mama!”

The first time he walked toward me and threw himself into my arms.

His little body, warm and soft.

Memories I had locked away kept coming back and brought tears to my eyes.

“Don’t cwy~” (Don’t cry)

Diaz looked up at me and gently touched my cheek with his tiny hand, sensing my emotion.

Ah… I didn’t expect this.

That little warmth comforted me more than I could have imagined.

All I could do was smile sadly in return.

✧ ✧ ✧

Layla had stepped away to inspect the orphanage’s facilities.

Now, I sat in the headmistress’s office, watching the children playing outside.

Suddenly, a thick book was handed to me.

“This is the list of all the children who have stayed at the orphanage.”

I flipped through it, just in case, but couldn’t hide my disappointment.

This was from a time before photo technology using magic stones became common, so the records only had names and brief notes—no pictures.

I didn’t know the man’s name, only his face.

There was no way I could identify him from this.

I sighed and closed the book.

“Are you looking for someone in particular?” the headmistress asked curiously.

After a pause, I finally answered,

“I’m looking for a man who lived here about 20 years ago.”

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know his name…”

“Oh dear. That will make it very difficult.”

She looked sorry that she couldn’t help.

Still, I pressed on.

“Are there any adults—former orphans—who still visit this place?”

“There are quite a few. For many of them, this place is their home. The children here are like their family.”

“Then… among them, is there a man with a scar on his face?”

“A scar…?”

She tilted her head and thought deeply.

Then she clapped her hands.

“Oh! Yes! There was a boy who lost his family after being attacked by a bear. He has a big scar on his face that’s still visible.”

My heart started racing like crazy.

It could be him!

“Do you know when he’ll visit next?”

“Actually, he usually comes around this time of year…”

She looked at me a little cautiously.

“But… why are you looking for him?”

I couldn’t answer right away.

Because he might be the one who kills me and my child?

No—more importantly, I needed to find out who ordered him to do it.

There’s no way a man from an orphanage could plan something like that on his own.

There had to be someone controlling him.

He was just a chess piece.

And if I don’t find the one holding the king, that piece can always be replaced.

Even if he hadn’t met that person yet, if I could reach him first, maybe I could find out who’s targeting me and Denian.

But I didn’t know how to explain that to the headmistress.

Just then, noise erupted outside the door.

“Uncle!”

“Uncle, what did you bring today?”

“Let’s play tag, Uncle!”

“Hey, kids! I will greet the headmistress first before playing!”

I looked out the window. The children who had been outside had vanished.

They must have run to someone they called “uncle.”

A moment later, the office door burst open.

“Headmistress, I’m here!”

A cheerful voice rang out, and I froze completely when I saw the man who walked in.

“Oh? I didn’t know there was already a guest here.”

The man smiled awkwardly.

He looked both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

I couldn’t possibly mistake him.

He didn’t have the sharp, scary face I remembered—instead, he looked warm and friendly.

But across his face, from his forehead through his eye down to his cheek, was a large scar.

Yes.

It was the same face.

The face of the assassin who once tried to kill me.