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Chapter 2
“Doing all kinds of part-time jobs… and now this….”
The reason the Curtis Orphanage where I live makes us beg on the streets is not because it is short on money.
In fact, it has more than enough funds compared to other orphanages. Curtis is what people call a “noble orphanage,” closely tied to aristocrats.
All the children here wear pretty dresses and suits, and receive high-quality education like nobles. That’s because they are all illegitimate children of noble bloodlines.
Curtis Orphanage is a place where depraved nobles—who lived lives of luxury and pleasure—quietly dump the children they never wanted. It lets them maintain a bit of conscience by thinking they sent them somewhere good, and also relieves guilt through donations.
At the same time, they are praised by the public who don’t know the truth.
“Look at how kindly they care for such lowly orphans. How noble!”
Because of that, some nobles even use Curtis as a tool for image marketing.
They visit the orphanage, call it charity work, take photos, and submit articles to People’s Life Daily, a private newspaper read by commoners they usually ignore.
“We are doing noble charity work by visiting and supporting the orphanage. Look, we built good buildings and dress the children well.”
And in those photos, the more pretty and cheerful the orphan child next to them looks, the better the publicity.
“They’re like politicians shaking a few hands during election season and getting votes.”
It’s exactly like that.
At Curtis, there is one child used specifically to enhance that image marketing effect.
Not one of the noble-born orphans the director cherishes, but a “imported orphan” from another orphanage who can be treated however they like. That child is Freedia.
“Not even a sports mercenary… just a hired orphan….”
The reason Freedia was chosen was her doll-like curly blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and rosy cheeks.
She matched the nobles’ preferred image perfectly.
This living porcelain doll smiles brightly and begs for donations whenever important visitors come.
“Since I posed nicely for photos looking cute and pitiful, please give more donations. Lots and lots of donations.”
That is what she’s made to do.
On days without begging work, she wears ragged clothes and does chores for the other children.
That is Freedia’s role. In other words, my role now that I’ve possessed her body.
“An orphan is an orphan! So what, kids are divided into rich orphans and poor orphans depending on their parents?!”
While other children eat luxurious meals, I’m starving and cleaning their rooms.
In my previous orphanage, everyone cleaned their own room.
“I thought I got a new life… but I’m just a beggar orphan, and they’re noble orphans….”
I sigh deeply again and again.
But things are not completely hopeless. I already know the story of this novel.
“Just you wait. The ugly duckling will soon become a swan….”
Wait.
“Doesn’t the heroine leave the orphanage and become a swan anyway?”
Not long after being possessed, she was adopted into a ducal family. But unfortunately, that family is the villain’s house.
The righteous heroine clashes with them from the start, goes through many hardships, brings down the family, and eventually becomes the crown prince’s lover and empress.
“But even after that, she suffers from her mother-in-law… gets stabbed by the male lead’s half-brother… she even dies once and comes back. Sigh.”
Even if the ending is happy, the process is far too cruel.
When I read it as a reader, the heroine’s episodes were exciting. But thinking I might experience them myself makes me break into a cold sweat.
“And later, becoming empress means politics too….”
Empress… politics… For someone like me, it’s impossible. Even if she falls in love with the male lead, becoming the mother of a nation is not something I could ever do.
People in this world abandon their own children because they find it burdensome to be parents. And yet, the heroine becomes the mother of an entire country, raising countless citizens as her children.
“That’s impossible. I could never do that.”
Maybe I should escape before being adopted? What if I change the original story by leaving the orphanage on my own?
I have modern knowledge. If I think hard enough, I might succeed easily in this world.
“In other novels, heroines sell fried chicken and succeed, or start popcorn businesses….”
If I save up a little money doing maid work, then grab one big hit idea and slowly build a business from a street stall, it might not be bad.
“In reality this would be ridiculous, but in this world it actually sounds doable. Survival difficulty: one star.”
I’ve done all kinds of part-time jobs before. Even if I don’t follow the original story, I might be able to manage anything in this medieval-like world.
“Yes! No adoption! I’ll live by my own strength!”
Oh—bright future again!
…or so I thought, but an unexpected obstacle appeared.
“Leave? Who said you could?”
The orphanage director looked at me over the top of his glasses, as if I had said something ridiculous.
I had only asked, “Do I graduate from the orphanage when I become an adult?”
But his reaction was like this.
“Do you know how much it cost to raise you? Fortunately, a man named Hamel has already paid that amount and agreed to take you next year. You will work there for five years without pay. Be grateful.”
What nonsense is this?
“Isn’t the orphanage funded by donations? And I’ve been wearing patched clothes others threw away, eating leftovers, cleaning, washing, and even begging. I think I’ve already paid for my food….”
I wanted to say that, but I just nodded and left the office.
“So they were planning to sell me like a slave.”
So if I don’t become empress, I become a slave.
I will escape this fate.
The next day, an unexpected opportunity came.
“Is this… a sign from God telling me to run?”
But I quickly realized the director wasn’t foolish, and I had simply been naïve.
“She’s an orphan!”
“She has no mom or dad!”
As soon as I went to the market, children in the alley rushed toward me shouting.
“Oh my, Freedia, isn’t that you? Children, don’t bully her!”
Passersby who seemed to know me drove the kids away while greeting me.
“Oh right… my photo was in the newspaper!”
I had forgotten. My face had been published in People’s Life Daily during donation begging.
It’s a newspaper for commoners in the region, reporting things like marriages, shop openings, or vegetable prices. Nobles don’t care about it, but commoners read it.
“So that’s why the director sent me. Even if I run away, they can just track me down.”
So much for changing the story easily.
As I sighed, I heard voices behind me again.
“She got paid just for drawing pictures?”
“She’s an orphan but lives well. Why are you here in a place like this?”
They sounded jealous, as if I was living better than other orphans.
You don’t even know anything.
“It reminds me of the past.”
I was bullied like this back in school too.
- “She’s an orphan, right? Lives in an orphanage.”
- “No wonder she looks poor. Who even uses a pencil case like that?”
- “Does she even wash properly? Maybe that uniform is second-hand too.”
- “Orphans can’t even go to college anyway. Why try so hard?”
People easily envied or dismissed those below them when they had something better.
Kids were just honest about it.
“You’re just an orphan acting all high and mighty!”
“Hey! You think you’re noble just because you took a photo with nobles?!”
Life really is just repeating patterns. Sigh… sigh!
“Throw that.”
Ignoring them and walking away, something suddenly flew from behind.
“Ow!”
A stone.
When I turned around sharply, the kids were already running away, laughing.
“Seriously….”
These annoying little brats.
“Ignore her! Ignore her!”
I tried not to react and kept walking, but soon I heard more whispers.
“She’s going.”
“She’s really leaving?”
Thinking they couldn’t throw anything in a crowded place, I walked into a busy street.
But—
“Got anything bigger?”
“Throw that one.”
They didn’t care if others got hurt, as long as they could bother me.
“You guys…!”
I turned to threaten them, but it was too late.
“Dirty orphan!”
“Dog of nobles!”
“No mom~ no dad~!”
With mocking voices, trash and stones flew toward me. I instinctively flinched and shut my eyes tight.
“…?”
But there was no impact.
“…Huh?”
Instead, I felt someone’s clothing in my hand, and in front of me was a dark silhouette blocking everything.
A voice followed.
“…Having parents isn’t that important for forming one’s personality.”
