Ch#58
That boy—the very one whose dripping nose I’d wiped clean back at Marie’s inn.
He bolted toward me, but a young man lingering behind snatched him up in an instant.
“Artis, stay put.”
“No! Let me go!”
The boy wriggled fiercely, desperate to escape.
“It’s all right. Come on over.”
I knelt low and beckoned him closer. He dashed straight into my arms, squeezing tight.
“Goddess!”
“I’ve told you before, I’m no goddess. I’m the Grand Duchess.”
I tapped his now-dry nose with a gentle finger, my lips curving into a smile.
“It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”
The moment the other children spotted his embrace, they swarmed forward, clutching at my skirts.
“Me next! I want a hug!”
“Let me touch her!”
“Look how it sparkles!”
Perhaps because the orphanage survived solely on the Duke’s funding. The youngsters had little exposure to nobility, approaching me with pure, unbridled delight.
“You children! Stop that at once! How dare you—she’s Her Grace, the Grand Duchess…!”
The director barreled in, face flushed with alarm. I lifted a hand to halt him.
“No need to worry.”
Though he fidgeted anxiously, their uninhibited warmth filled me with joy. I stroked their heads and pulled them into hugs.
“I’ve brought plenty of delightful surprises just for you today. Care to see?”
I nodded toward the carriage, and squeals of delight erupted.
“Shall we head inside and unpack them, Cecilia?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Cecilia, ever perceptive, directed the director with calm authority.
Before long, staff started hauling crates from the carriages.
Older kids and teachers pitched in with the lifting, while several knights joined the effort too.
The director’s warm exchange with Tiern proved he’d been a frequent visitor here, exactly as claimed.
I had the smaller parcels moved to the playroom, letting the children unwrap them on their own.
“Dig in and pick out your favorites.”
They ripped into the wrappings with gleeful abandon.
Nestled within were thoughtfully selected picture books and vibrant playthings.
“Amazing! Check this out!”
“It’s a toy! And a doll!”
“This one’s all mine!”
As they dove into their new treasures amid peals of laughter, I scanned the room.
It felt stark—merely a handful of roughly hewn wooden toys dotted the space—but spotless and orderly.
“What do you all get up to in here?”
I asked the cluster of bright-eyed faces.
“We munch on treats!”
“Marie shares her pudding with us!”
“Anything else? Like storytime or games with a ball?”
One tot shifted uncomfortably, uncertain.
A pigtailed girl piped up timidly.
“We read books.”
“You do?”
“Jerome reads to us every evening.”
Another chimed in eagerly.
“He’s super clever—makes up tales from thin air!”
“He crafts toys as well!”
“Is Jerome one of the teachers?”
“Nuh-uh! He’s just the biggest kid here!”
Clearly, the eldest orphan watched over the little ones with care.
“Where’s this Jerome?”
A small hand pointed toward the window, where a lanky figure hefted crates outdoors.
The same youth who’d restrained Artis moments ago.
“How wonderful. He must be a blessing to have around. Come on, let’s unwrap this one next.”
Soon the room rang with their merry chatter as they lost themselves in play.
Later…
“But Your Grace, I truly have poured my heart into caring for these children…”
“I’m not doubting your efforts.”
I stifled a quiet sigh at the director’s earnest protests.
“The funds just appear misallocated. These kids need more than basics—they crave emotional growth.”
Clad neatly, nourished properly, facilities gleaming under the Duke’s patronage.
Yet they roamed freely for hours on end. That was the issue.
“We must carve out moments for art, tales, and real play.”
Emphasizing needs beyond mere sustenance and roofs drew his lips into a thin line, sealed like a clam.
His gaze implied utter naivety on my part.
Is this the same man who penned those letters?
I tamped down my irritation.
He’d toiled relentlessly to keep them fed and clothed.
A surprise critique from the Grand Duchess on “oversight” must sting like betrayal.
Truthfully, I sympathized.
“I’ve delivered every school supply from your request. Put them to good use.”
I held my tongue further and moved to conclude.
“Then allow me to summon Lady Annette’s carriage!”
Eager to expedite my departure, the director volunteered swiftly.
Stepping out with Cecilia, bursts of laughter drifted from nearby.
In the backyard, an surprising sight unfolded: knights romping with the children.
“Here’s your sword!”
The little ones brandished the play weapons from my gifts, charging at the armored foes.
Knights as monsters, then?
“Raaargh!”
They threw themselves into the roles with earnest, almost comical fervor.
Tiern lumbered about, besieged by youngsters clinging to his limbs.
Who knew he could seem so approachable with children…
A soft warmth touched his features.
I watched, lips quirked in quiet amusement, when a tug came at my gown.
Glancing down, there was the pigtailed girl from earlier, clutching my skirt.
“What’s this?”
She offered a small white pebble, cheeks pink.
“A lovely stone.”
“Thank you, dear.”
I accepted it tenderly; she flushed deeper and scampered off to hunt more treasures.
“Now that I notice… not a single tree in sight.”
The yard was barren—no grass, just unyielding stone.
I studied the pebble cradled in my palm.
In tales, children might proffer a lady a bloom.
But the North’s rigor swaps flowers for stones.
The place embodied stark northern life. A wry chuckle escaped me.
“Lady Annette, your carriage awaits.”
A mild voice interrupted.
Turning, I faced the youth the children had praised—Jerome.
In person, he cut a respectable figure.
No match for the Grand Duke’s chiseled allure, yet his gentle contours and clear complexion lent him an appealing charm.
“You must be Jerome.”
Color bloomed in his cheeks at my words.
“H-how did you know…?”
“The children can’t stop singing your praises.”
He offered a bashful grin.
“I’m deeply flattered Lady Annette knows my name.”
Such refined manners.
“Should I fetch the knights?” Cecilia glanced at the playful melee.
Signaling our imminent departure.
“Let them linger a moment longer. The joy’s too precious to cut short.”
I held my ground, so Jerome lingered too, shifting awkwardly.
Then.
A realization struck.
“That supply list you sent…”
I pivoted to him with a knowing smile.
“Was it your doing?”
His eyes widened, lashes trembling.
“You crafted it, didn’t you?”
“Er…”
Even cornered, he demurred—likely shielding the director.
“No reprimands here. I simply admired how keenly it captured the children’s needs. You’re with them constantly, aren’t you?”
Tension eased from his frame; he replied at last.
“I merely assist the teachers when I can.”
“How did you master drafting such lists?”
“No formal training… I mimicked samples from around.”
My brows lifted slightly.
“You excel at it.”
“Thank you, Lady Annette.”
A simple query on needs, yet he’d prioritized by age with precision. Rare talent.
He grasped exactly what informed wise choices.
I’d chat far easier with him than the director.
“Do the children often play back here?”
I eyed the unforgiving yard.
A tumble could wound badly.
“They come out some, but…”
A running child stumbled; Jerome steadied them seamlessly.
“We venture beyond the grounds usually. The shopping district holds more wonders.”
A tactful nod to the orphanage’s sparse amusements.
“No real play spots close by, then?”
“A mountain lies past the village, though it’s distant.”
Rough paths and fleeting light made the lit shopping district safer after dusk, he noted quietly.
Studying his composed features.
His stature suggested maturity.
Yet closer inspection revealed lingering boyhood softness.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen this year.”
Our gazes locked; he rubbed his neck sheepishly.
Vitality radiated from his fresh visage.
Cecilia shared the impression—her grin widened as she observed him.