Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

Translator: Nox

Chapter 1Chapter 1

1

The Delivered Girl

The child arrived by mail coach.

It was a late afternoon in early spring, when Bill Leamer had spent the entire day busy planting rose saplings.

“Are you Mr. Bill Leamer?”

The child asked cautiously, facing Bill Leamer, who stood there in a daze. Her accent was strangely soft and gentle.

“Yeah. I’m Bill Leamer, alright.”

Bill took off his straw hat, brushing the dirt from his hands.

As his tanned face emerged from the shadow of the wide brim, the child flinched and swallowed dryly. It was nothing new. People meeting the burly, rough-looking giant Bill Leamer for the first time usually reacted the same way.

“Who the hell are you?”

His scowl made his face look even more fearsome.

“Hello, Mr. Bill. I’m Leila Llewellyn. I came from Robita.”

The child spoke slowly and clearly. Robita. Only then did Bill understand her peculiar accent.

“You crossed the border to Berg all by yourself?”

“Yes. By train.”

The child smiled awkwardly, her posture unnaturally straight. Just then, the mail carrier who had brought her here approached.

“Oh, she’s already met you, Mr. Leamer.”

“Good timing. Why’d you bring this kid here?”

“She was walking in front of the station with her luggage all alone. I asked where she was going, and she said she was on her way to find Bill Leamer, the gardener for the Herhardt family. I was delivering here anyway, so I brought her along.”

Smiling as he answered, he handed Bill Leamer a letter. It was from a distant relative living in the neighboring country of Robita.

The hot-tempered Bill tore open the envelope right there. The letter detailed the background of an orphan girl who had been passed around relatives’ homes, and their own dire poverty that made it impossible to keep her any longer. Her name was Leila Llewellyn. So, this little girl standing before him must be the orphan in question.

“Damn people. They sure know how to spread the news fast.”

Bill let out a disbelieving chuckle.

There were no relatives in Robita willing to take in the pitiful orphan. Among those with even a faint connection to her, Bill Leamer was in the best position, so they were sending her here. If even he couldn’t manage, they suggested putting her in an orphanage.

Muttering curses, Bill crumpled the letter and threw it to the ground.

“Can you believe these bastards? No matter what, sending a kid like this all alone?”

Now that he understood the full situation, Bill’s face flushed red with anger. It was no different from passing her around like a hot potato until she had nowhere left to go, then shoving her across the border. Just handing her the address of a distant relative abroad and kicking her out.

“Um, Mr. Bill. I’m not that young.”

The child, who had been watching him quietly, spoke up.

“I’ll be twelve in a few weeks.”

Whispering in a grown-up tone, she quietly rose onto her tiptoes. The sight was so absurd that Bill chuckled again. She was so small he’d thought she might be ten, but at least she was older than he’d guessed—small mercies.

With the mail carrier who had delivered this headache of a girl now gone, the two were left alone in the garden. Bill clutched his head, cursing the cruel heavens.

They called him a relative, but he was no different from a stranger to the child’s father.

To take in and raise the child of a distant relative he hadn’t seen in over twenty years. And for a widower like Bill Leamer, a tiny little girl at that!

The weather was still quite chilly, yet the child wore ridiculously thin clothes. She was so gaunt, like a stick figure. All that was noteworthy about her were her large green eyes and hair like threads of gold.

Taking her in was out of the question.

Bill reached a clear conclusion. But the only solution that followed was to put her in an orphanage, which was maddening.

Bill muttered another curse at those who had caused this mess. The child flinched as if frightened, but her expression remained remarkably composed. Even so, it couldn’t hide her fidgeting hands or her lips bitten red.

“Come on.”

Shaking his head, Bill turned and started walking ahead.

“First things first, we’ll fill your stomach and think from there.”

His gruff addition rode on the evening breeze.

Leila, who had been standing ramrod straight like a stick, finally took a step. With each step—one, then another—her gait grew lighter and more lively.

“Is that all you’re getting?”

Bill frowned at the small portion the child had scooped onto her plate.

“Yes. I don’t eat much. Really.”

The child smiled, and Bill’s heart grew a little more uneasy.

“Kid, I can’t stand picky eaters.”

At Bill’s blunt words, the child’s eyes widened round. The lamplight from the table fell on her skinny wrist peeking from her rolled-up sleeve.

“You’ve gotta eat hearty, like an ox.”

Bill’s expression grew even gruffer.

Leila, blinking slowly in thought, added one more piece of meat and bread to her plate. Famished as she was, she began devouring the food.

“It’s a bit hard to eat like an ox, but I do eat well, Mr. Bill.”

With breadcrumbs on her lips, the child beamed.

“Yeah. You sure look like it.”

Bill chuckled and lifted his glass again.

“Aren’t you scared of me?”

Bill deliberately scowled. But the child didn’t look away, staring straight into his eyes.

“No. You haven’t yelled at me, Mr. Bill. And you gave me tasty food. So you seem kind and good to me.”

If something like that made her grateful, what kind of life had she lived?

Suddenly tasting bitterness in his mouth, Bill stood abruptly and poured himself a large mug of beer.

The letter said her mother had abandoned her husband and child to run off with another man. Heartbroken, her father had drowned in drink, fallen ill, and passed away. After that, she’d been shuttled between relatives’ homes—what her life must have been like was all too clear.

Still, raising her wasn’t feasible.

Gulping down the beer, Bill Leamer resolved himself. He’d sort out the child situation by next week at the latest.

“Did you all hear? The gardener Mr. Leamer’s taking in a little girl.”

A young maid burst into the servants’ lounge, chattering excitedly. The resting servants’ eyes turned to her all at once.

“A little girl? With Mr. Leamer? It’d be more believable if he said he was raising a lion or an elephant.”

A footman snorted.

Bill Leamer, the gardener for Duke Herhardt’s estate, was a man with a natural talent for tending flowers. Thanks to that gift, despite his antisocial and gruff temperament, he had held the position for twenty years already.

The remarkably fair Bill Leamer treated the duke’s family no differently, yet he was trusted. Lady Norma especially. With her unusual passion for flowers, she showed infinite understanding and leniency toward anything related to her garden. It was her decision to give the cottage in the forest behind the estate to the gardener.

Bill Leamer’s life was simple.

He worked in the garden and rested in the cottage. Aside from occasionally sharing drinks with fellow veteran servants, he spent most of his time surrounded by flowers and trees. It had been over a decade since his wife passed from illness, and he rarely got close to women.

A stone like Bill Leamer and a little girl?

Just as consensus formed that it was absurd, a maid by the window gasped.

“Oh my. It’s true! Look over there.”

The wide-eyed maid pointed beyond the glass. Servants crowded to the window, soon wearing the same shocked expressions. In the distance of the garden, Bill Leamer worked in his usual hunched posture. And a tiny girl—likely the one from the rumors—followed behind him.

Her golden hair, braided in a single plait, swung like a pendulum behind her as she walked briskly.

“I’m thinking it over.”

Whenever asked about the child, Bill Leamer gave the same response.

“We can’t keep her here, so I’ve gotta think it through.”

As his deliberations stretched from spring into summer, Leila Llewellyn settled into the estate as if she belonged. The sight of her bustling through the gardens and woods became a familiar scene to the Herhardt household servants.

“She seems to have grown a bit.”

Cook Madam Mona smiled, glancing out the window. Leila was strolling through the woods behind the cottage, examining all sorts of grasses and flowers.

“She’s got a long way to go. She’s so tiny.”

“Hey, Bill Leamer. Kids aren’t like the flowers you tend. They don’t shoot up overnight.”

Shaking her head, Madam Mona set her basket on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Cookies and cake. There was a tea party at the mansion yesterday for the lady.”

“I hate sweets.”

“So? These are for Leila.”

At Madam Mona’s calm retort, Bill Leamer’s thick brows twitched.

She wasn’t his to keep, yet the duke’s servants had started looking after Leila one day. Asking after her, bringing food, even visiting sometimes. It was a headache.

“We need to get her some proper clothes. In a bit, that lady’s skirt will ride up past her knees.”

Madam Mona clicked her tongue shortly, watching Leila chase a bird. Bill couldn’t argue. Even to him, with no knowledge of children, it was obvious her clothes didn’t fit.

“Oh! Oh my goodness! Look at that child!”

About to leave, Madam Mona gasped and rushed to the window.

Bill glanced indifferently where she pointed. The bird she’d chased perched on a branch tip, and Leila swiftly climbed the tree after it. Her movements were nimble and light as a squirrel.

“She’s got some real talent for climbing trees.”

At Bill’s nonchalant reply, Madam Mona glared daggers.

“Bill Leamer! You knew and just let her? How are you raising that child?”

“As you can see, she’s growing strong just fine.”

“You’re raising a girl like a wild boy! Goodness gracious.”

Madam Mona scolded loudly, but Bill half-listened while peering out the window. Leila sat astride a branch, watching birds flit about in the treetop.

In the months he’d observed her, Leila Llewellyn proved a child brimming with curiosity about the world. Flowers and grasses, birds and insects—she marveled at and questioned everything in sight. Once, she hadn’t returned by evening, so he’d gone to the woods and found her alone by the riverbank, staring at a flock of waterfowl. So absorbed, she hadn’t heard him call her name several times.

Only after pouring out an earful of nagging did Madam Mona leave. Shuddering in annoyance, Bill ambled out to the back of the cottage.

“Mr. Bill!”

Spotting him, Leila waved happily.

She descended the tree as quickly as she’d climbed and was soon right in front of him. Her drab gray dress was short in the skirt and sleeves alike. It looked like hand-me-downs—no way to present her to the duke like that, so he’d have to buy her at least one proper outfit.

“Get ready and come out.”

Arriving at the cottage’s back door, Bill spoke on impulse. Leila’s puzzled face flashed with sudden fear.

“Uh, Mr. Bill?”

“Just going to town for clothes. No need for that look.”

Bill cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching his neck.

“The Duke Herhardt will be back soon. Greeting him like this wouldn’t do.”

“The duke… the lord of this territory?”

“Yeah. With break starting, he’ll return now.”

“Break? Does the duke go to school too?”

Tilting her head, Leila squinted. Bill laughed heartily and ruffled her tousled hair.

“Even a duke has to go to school at eighteen.”

“Ehh? Eighteen? The duke is?”

Her shock was so comical that Bill’s laughter boomed louder. Her tousled hair felt soft as cotton fluff under his rough fingers.

The train from the capital pulled into Kalsbar Station’s platform.

The waiting servants moved in unison to the first-class car. As they lined up straight, a tall, slender young man stepped onto the platform.

“Good day, young master.”

Butler Hessen’s polite greeting began it, and all the servants bowed to him. Standing straight and elegant, Mathias responded with a light nod. His lips, curved in a smile neither excessive nor lacking, were red.

As Mathias took a few strides, the Herhardt servants finally stirred. Onlookers who had been watching quickly stepped back to clear their path. Mathias passed the platform without slowing.

“A carriage, huh.”

Spotting the waiting carriage at the station entrance, Mathias chuckled softly.

“Ah… yes, young master. Lady Norma distrusts automobiles so much.”

“I know. To Grandmother, they’re nothing but vulgar, dangerous hunks of metal.”

“My apologies. Next time…”

“No. A classic once in a while isn’t bad.”

Mathias boarded the carriage readily. His long arms and legs, still not fully matured, lent a refreshing grace even to his unhurried movements.

The carriage carrying him soon picked up speed. Passing the square and bustling shops, the road grew quiet for the carriage. The baggage wagon followed at a proper distance behind the ornate one emblazoned with a gleaming golden crest.