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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: The Familiar Volunteer
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“Looks like we’ve got plenty of firewood to last through the harsh winter.”
I visited the orphanage and felt a swell of pride at the mountain of stacked logs.
Masera’s subordinate soldiers were splitting logs into firewood.
On the other side, snow removal was underway.
“Wow, that looks fun.”
With the snow making it hard for carriages or cars to pass, people got around on sleds pulled by reindeer.
Anyway, everyone else was working hard, so I had to lead by example. The other VIPs had already fled to avoid any manual labor.
While I was focused on chopping the firewood into smaller pieces, someone spoke to me.
“Whoa, you look like a survival expert.”
I turned around to see a tall, handsome man with black hair tinged gray and golden eyes. Dressed in a suit under a long black coat, he had the refined air of a wealthy businessman.
His vibe was similar to Masera’s in temperature but somehow different. If Masera evoked the scent of wood in a chilly dawn, this man felt like the cold tang of iron.
“Hello.”
The man, who seemed to always have a smile in his eyes, greeted me first. At the same time, a shiver ran down my spine.
Why does he feel so familiar?
He was a complete stranger, yet he gave off an oddly familiar sensation...
Zing.
Especially those predatory yellow eyes—they triggered a sudden headache.
The original Cynthia’s memories are reacting, not mine.
And it was a deeply imprinted fear.
I agonized over whether it was humanity’s innate ‘danger sense’ or ‘physiognomy is science.’
For now, I returned his greeting.
“Yes, hello. Are you a volunteer from somewhere else?”
I forced a smile and put on my social graces. My plan was to chat politely and then excuse myself.
He extended a gloved hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you. My name is...”
That was when it happened.
“Uncle! Thanks for the gift!”
The kids came rushing over and hugged him.
He knelt down, giving one a piggyback ride, and continued.
“Not ‘uncle,’ it’s Makia Bisverk.”
His name was as unique as Masera’s, so probably a foreigner.
“You seem close with the kids.”
“I spent some time here as a child due to circumstances. I’ve kept in touch ever since.”
“What kind of circumstances...”
Before I knew it, his smile had turned wistful.
“My father became a war refugee and ended up in prison...”
“Ah, sorry.”
“But after a long time, we reunited. What I realized from living alone was that kids need an adult to protect them.”
I watched his gentle demeanor and thought,
Those squinty-eyed types always have secrets, and they look scary with their eyes open, but I shouldn’t judge too hastily.
The kids adore him, so he might be a good person. I lowered my guard a bit.
After greeting the kids, he asked me,
“Lady, is there anything I can help you with?”
“Moving firewood for the kitchen. It’s too much for me alone.”
At my request, the man named Makia effortlessly lifted the pile of firewood I’d gathered.
I picked up a small bundle and followed him, tossing out a question.
“Are you living happily with your father now?”
He turned back with another wistful smile.
“We only saw each other occasionally, but he passed away a few years ago. Murdered by someone.”
“Ahh... I’m really sorry...”
“He was always busy and distant, but I loved my father.”
As I stared into Makia’s yellow eyes, a migraine-like pain stabbed my temple.
A fleeting scene flashed by.
Snow falling so thick it blinded vision, biting cold, a gray landscape, someone’s ragged breathing.
“No helping it. Just as you have things to protect, so do I.”
Yellow eyes gleaming like a beast’s in the blizzard-filled darkness.
The original owner’s memory?
But it passed too quickly for me to grasp what it was.
The man’s gentle voice reached me as he walked ahead again.
“You’re Princess Cynthia, right? Wife of Brigadier General Masera del Vicente.”
There was an odd emphasis in how he pronounced Masera’s name clearly.
“Do you know my husband?”
“We first met at a refugee center for kids who’d lost their parents. I wonder how he’s doing.”
I couldn’t see his expression as he faced forward.
After dropping off the firewood in the kitchen, we washed our hands.
“Oops, forgot my handkerchief...”
As I tried to wipe my hands on my apron, Makia approached.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Princess. They say your business skills are so good you get investments from the Media royal family.”
He’d already pulled out a handkerchief and was wiping my hands for me.
Flustered by the sudden kindness, he added,
“I work in sales myself.”
“Not interested.”
I quickly pulled my hands away and declined.
Phew, almost got presold before the pitch.
One moment of weakness to that mellow voice and lazy eye-smile, and my room would be filled with jade mats and health supplements.
At my serious expression, Makia let out a soft chuckle.
“Misunderstanding. My company makes and sells machine parts—no products for a princess.”
Then his gaze fixed on the kitchen table, where desserts brought by the noble ladies and me were laid out.
“Want one?”
He didn’t refuse my polite offer and put a slice of cake on a plate.
“I love food. Especially desserts like this.”
“Eat as much as you like.”
“That’s the plan.”
I shouldn’t be letting this happen! If we run out, I’ll have to buy more!
But I couldn’t bring myself to object since being stingy about food wasn’t right.
“You haven’t been in touch with my husband lately?”
I wanted to gauge if they were on bad terms, to decide whether to avoid him.
“We ended up in different orphanages. Even when we volunteered as child soldiers, we were sent to different training camps. Different units too, so we hardly crossed paths.”
“Child soldier...”
This man had barely survived to adulthood too. I chose my words carefully.
“Volunteering at such a young age. Impressive.”
“Not for any impressive reason.”
He shook his head, wiping cream from the corner of his mouth with his thumb.
“I was hungry. Probably the same for Brigadier General Vicente.”
I stared at him eating a second slice, thinking of Masera.
Masera was crazy about desserts too. I’d never heard his past directly from him, but I knew he’d had a hard life.
This man seemed to have a tragic backstory as well...
“...But what if you finish a whole cake? Our top chef made it from scratch at dawn.”
When did he eat it all? Did he follow me just for this? I shot Makia a resentful glare.
The obvious glutton flashed an awkward smile.
“Too delicious. I’ll buy a new one.”
“Let’s go together.”
No way I’d let him eat on the way there too—I’d have to supervise.
And so we went to the market, where he ate again. This time, together.
“Wow! Makia, this waffle has so much whipped cream! Knowing a place like this—you’ve got some serious taste!”
Makia was a market tour expert, even winning over the soldiers who’d come as escorts.
“I know all the local spots. Next, the food alley.”
Everyone’s faces lit up with anticipation at his words.
Happy to find a fellow glutton after Dalia, my joy was short-lived as I spotted someone in the alley corner.
The Lecanosa Duke? Figured he’d run off to avoid chopping wood.
Then I saw the woman facing him and my eyes widened.
Anna?
The seamstress maid from the Queensguard Count’s estate.
Anita had tipped me off that she was alive, but...
Why was she with the Lecanosa Duke?
