CBOM 30

chapter 30

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But aside from Sophien and a few caretakers, there’s no master being served, right?”

It seemed that in this territory, Reto practically didn’t exist at all.

That meant the child had never once stepped outside the villa until the age of seven.

For now, since he was still young, people might let it slide. But as he grew older, it would surely become unbearably stifling.

“But that young master you brought with you, how did he end up down here?”

“…Ah, our young master is a little unwell.”

Lost in thought, Grace asked about Sophien.

“Then what kind of person is Sophien?”

“Sophien?”

Since the villagers had spent far longer around him than her own brief impressions, she figured their perspective would be more accurate.

“He’s not really the sociable type. Gives me the creeps, honestly.”

The clerk shook his head and clicked his tongue, clearly uneasy.

Grace’s eyes flashed, but she pretended to be clueless as she kept the conversation flowing.

“Why? I actually hardly ever see him even while working.”

Sophien’s most frequent destination was apparently the postal office.

The clerk grumbled that he came once a week to send letters, but no matter how many times people asked what they were, he never said a word.

“The seal is from the famous Duke of Foret’s household.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. Makes you wonder how someone like Sophien even knows the duke.”

“I really wonder, too. What on earth is he sending every week?”

If he was corresponding weekly, it meant Sophien was definitely tied to the duke’s family.

And yet, he’d claimed ignorance about Ribanu.

Had he lied?

Or maybe, to the duke, both Sophien and Reto were discarded beings—unworthy of even a word.

As Grace’s thoughts tangled, the clerk kept on talking.

And much of it seemed rather useful.

“I’m telling you, this land isn’t exactly wealthy. But Sophien? He dresses in the finest clothes and throws money around like water.”

“Money?”

“Buys jewels every month, like he’s some noble. The local jeweler practically survives off his purchases. That’s not all—sometimes he even buys things meant for kids. But it’s off-putting. Who needs to buy discipline tools every single month?”

“What?”

Grace’s eyes widened.

Children’s supplies made sense since he was raising Reto, but discipline tools?

Every month?

“You think it’s strange too, don’t you?”

“…Yes.”

The child must be Reto, and the tools surely meant Sophien was directly abusing him.

Grace wasn’t even surprised—her suspicions fit too perfectly.

And yet Sophien had claimed Reto’s mother was the one who mistreated him?

While Grace mulled it over, the clerk went on.

“Just the other day, he bought some very fine boys’ clothing. Said he had no master to serve, yet he’s clearly trying to curry favor with whoever he does serve…”

“…Is that so?”

“But then he also bought small clothes—things only kids could wear. Suspicious, isn’t it? I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

The clerk repeatedly warned her to take good care of the young master, asking what she’d do if Sophien laid a hand on the sickly boy.

After leaving the postal office, Grace had planned to stop by the draper’s, but decided the jeweler Sophien frequented would be a better start.

On her way, she noticed villagers sneaking glances at her. Grace greeted them brightly.

“Hello.”

“Oh my.”

“I just moved into the villa nearby.”

“Really? I thought I saw you the other day… nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’ll be coming out often to shop, so I look forward to your help.”

Contrary to her worries that the villagers might keep their distance because she was an outsider, they proved as warm-hearted as the postal clerks.

“What’s your name?”

“Please just call me Grace.”

Winning their goodwill wasn’t hard. Grace laughed easily, disarming them.

The villagers, curious about Ribanu, asked many questions about the young master she served.

Grace smoothly explained he was here for his health—and in turn, steered the conversation toward Sophien.

Most of them reacted just like the postal staff.

“Sophien? I can’t stand him.”

“You too? Same here.”

“The way he looks at people—it’s like he thinks we’re beneath him.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed that too!”

So, the teary-eyed, meek act she had seen before—it was all fake.

Grace narrowed her eyes and smirked inwardly.

There was clearly some scheme at work. The problem was she still couldn’t figure out what.

Still, she had spent a productive day. She even bought fabric at the draper’s.

But since she had lingered talking with villagers far longer than expected, she began to worry.

When she hurried back, both Ribanu and Essi’s gazes followed her.

“Ahaha, I’m back.”

Caught under their stares, Grace smiled awkwardly and stepped inside.

“Why are you so late?”

She had left after lunch, and already the sun was dipping low.

“Sorry, I’m late, aren’t I?”

“Don’t just apologize. Why were you late?”

“…The villagers were curious about you, young master.”

“…Ah.”

Ribanu’s lips pressed tight like a clam.

Serving someone with so many flaws, Grace must have struggled to answer.

Grace studied him quietly, then reached out to ruffle his round head.

“You’re overthinking again, aren’t you?”

“…”

He couldn’t deny it, only stayed silent. Grace chuckled softly.

“I was honest. I told them you’re sick—that you dislike meeting people and that it scares you.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“I’m sorry, did that upset you? I just thought…”

“No. It’s not that I’m upset. It’s—what if you suffer because of me? If they think I’m diseased, they might avoid you, since you could catch it…”

Grace set down the fabric she carried, crouched in front of him, and met his eyes.

“No one said anything like that.”

“…You only told them I’m sick?”

“No, I mentioned the skin condition too. But they all brushed it off like it was nothing.”

“That’s because they haven’t seen me.”

Ribanu muttered in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh dear, how’s our young master going to manage with so little confidence?”

“You dislike it too, don’t you?”

How could he not?

Even to himself, the reflection in the mirror was disgusting.

But Grace jumped as if the very idea was absurd.

In truth, Ribanu liked her for that.

It wasn’t as though he was pretending to lack confidence, but Grace always reminded him that appearances weren’t everything.

“Of course not.”

Just look now—her frown was entirely out of concern for him, for his well-being.

“Our young master is so kindhearted. They just don’t know it yet.”

Hearing that, it felt like the version of himself everyone shunned was fading away.

“You think so?”

“Of course. Both you and Essi.”

“Essi? Why him?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Essi feels the same way you do. He isn’t confident in his looks either. You two are just alike.”

Grace laughed lightly.

In the air, Ribanu and Essi’s gazes collided.

“…Why though?”

Ribanu couldn’t understand. Essi had perfectly normal skin, eyes, nose, and mouth—why lack confidence?

Essi gave a strained smile.

“…Because of my red hair and freckles. My parents abandoned me for them. I was bullied since I was little. Until recently, I had no one—except Grace.”

“…Ah.”

No wonder. Ribanu had disliked him, found him uncomfortable—and it wasn’t just because he was always around.

It was those eyes. They were just like his own.

Yet when Essi looked at Grace, those same eyes lit up with life.

Kindhearted as she was, she had let her care spill over to others too.

Ribanu had suspected it, but realizing Grace wasn’t only warm to him made his shoulders sag.

Then Essi said:

“Grace was the first to see me for who I am. I like her so much. Of course, I like you too, young master.”

“Me?”

“Of course! You see me for who I am too. Even if you found me uncomfortable at first, I believe if I keep trying, you’ll warm up to me. In fact, today you already did.”

His bright eyes shone as he looked at Ribanu.

It didn’t feel like a lie—he really meant it.

Ribanu had never imagined anyone besides Grace would say such a thing. He froze, dumbstruck, managing only a weak, “Uh…”