TESPS 10

Chapter 10

Was he around eleven years old?

Far too young to be working as a servant.

“You should have handled it properly!”

“I’m sorry, Mother.”

The boy, who had light brown hair and green eyes like the Marchioness, answered in a flat voice.

Perhaps because he had not yet gone through puberty, his voice was terribly thin.

My eyes widened even further.

I had assumed he was a servant because of his shabby appearance, but he was her son?

“You’d better have this resolved before Regina and Leopold arrive, Timothy. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would you?”

“B-but…”

The boy stammered with a terrified expression.

I swallowed dryly.

Judging by the names, Regina and Leopold were probably the Marquis couple’s other children.

‘Could he be an illegitimate child?’

But that seemed unlikely, since the boy, Timothy, looked far too much like the Marchioness.

“If all the rooms are already full, then there’s nothing I can do…”

“Then you’ll bear the consequences yourself.”

“Mother, there are other hotels nearby—”

The Marchioness harshly cut him off.

“Are you making excuses because you can’t even handle a single task properly?”

“…I’m sorry.”

Timothy lowered his head deeply.

“Please forgive me, Mother…”

“Forgive you?”

The Marchioness spoke sharply.

“Find some way to secure a room immediately, no matter what it takes! Show me that you’re useful.”

The hotel manager was already drenched in cold sweat, flustered beyond belief.

“I apologize, Madam. We truly would like to help, but there really is no way… Please understand.”

The Marchioness tilted her head arrogantly.

“I have no intention of speaking further with you, so discuss it with my son.”

Then she immediately walked out of the hotel.

She claimed it was because the carriage was more comfortable, but I knew the truth.

It was simply another way to torment Timothy.

“……”

Timothy, pale as a sheet, pleaded with the hotel manager.

“I-is there… isn’t there any way? I’ll do anything. Even work…”

“…There’s no way. I’m sorry.”

Even the manager looked deeply sympathetic toward Timothy.

“I-I might die this time. Last time, my leg was broken. Please, any method is fine…”

I didn’t even know why I stood up.

Maybe it was because of my title as Deputy Director of the Child Protection Bureau.

Even if it was only a hollow position, titles still shaped people.

Or perhaps…

My conscience simply could not allow me to ignore this young boy.

Just like how I could never ignore Melissa.

I walked toward them.

“I’ll give up my room. Though I don’t know if it’ll satisfy the Marchioness.”

The manager let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s an excellent room that I’m sure the Marchioness will find satisfactory.”

I blinked in confusion.

My room definitely wasn’t supposed to be that luxurious…?

The manager answered quickly.

“We always provide better rooms for imperial officials.”

So that was it.

Even if it was practically a demotion post, the title of “Deputy Director” apparently still carried some intimidation.

“Th-thank you, ma’am.”

Timothy bowed deeply.

“Mother will be pleased.”

I shrugged.

“What the Marchioness thinks is none of my concern. I’m interested in you.”

“Pardon…?”

“How long are you staying here?”

“…I-I heard about a week.”

“Really? Then be my conversation partner during that time.”

If it were up to me, I would have separated the child from his parents immediately, but I couldn’t act rashly.

To begin with, the Child Protection Bureau was a powerless organization in name only.

No matter that I was the Deputy Director, there was no legal way to forcibly separate abused children from their parents.

At best, if they were commoners or low-ranking nobles, I could use the authority of the imperial family to intervene.

But the other party was the House of Diber.

If they wanted to, they could make my life miserable with ease.

So the only thing I could do was…

‘At least let him escape that abusive environment for a little while.’

Timothy stammered in confusion.

“M-me, your conversation partner…?”

“Yes. Your mother will allow it, won’t she? She did tell you to get a room no matter what.”

“Yes…”

Timothy stared at the floor.

The hotel manager looked at me anxiously.

“But he is the young master of a marquis household. Shouldn’t we ask the Marchioness first?”

He wasn’t wrong.

Though it was absurd that we had to ask permission from the parent abusing her own child.

“Then go tell your mother. Say that I’ll provide the room on the condition that you become my companion for the next week.”

Timothy immediately ran toward the carriage.

A moment later, the Marchioness entered the lobby with her chin held high.

“Your name?”

“Tessa Harrington, Madam.”

“…Hm, an imperial official. Then you should at least be smart enough not to do anything foolish…”

For a moment, the Marchioness seemed to weigh Timothy’s value against the value of the room she’d be receiving for a week.

“Not bad. However, you must return him before dinner.”

“Of course, Madam.”

I answered as politely as possible.

“Thank you for lending me your precious son as a conversation partner.”

A chill ran down my spine.

The moment she heard the words “precious son,” a vicious sneer spread across the Marchioness’s face.

Even though I had finally obtained a precious opportunity, talking with Timothy was not easy.

The next day at lunchtime, he sat at our meeting place in the restaurant after only exchanging simple greetings, clamming up like an oyster.

“……”

“……”

As the atmosphere became awkward, I decided to order food first.

“Go ahead and choose. You can order anything you want.”

At those words, Timothy’s eyes sparkled just a little.

…And then ten whole minutes passed.

‘He really can’t decide.’

Instead of rushing him, I quietly observed the boy.

Timothy had delicate features and a gentle appearance.

But what caught my attention was not his looks.

‘…Bruises.’

There were faint bruises on his wrists, cheeks, and even around his eyelids once I looked closely.

There were very few people who would dare lay hands on the son of a powerful marquis family.

‘Is it only the Marchioness? Or…’

Timothy suddenly spoke up.

“U-um, soup… I think potato soup would be enough.”

“Oh, really?”

I snatched the menu from him.

“No soup. You should choose a main dish and dessert too.”

“Uh…”

Timothy hesitated awkwardly.

“If you don’t answer, I’ll order everything?”

“N-no!”

Timothy cried out.

In the end, I had to place the order myself. Two main dishes and two desserts.

…Though because Timothy kept refusing, I had to insist they were all for me.

I deliberately placed a hand on my stomach and sighed.

“I’m too full… I think I’ll leave leftovers. Would you eat half for me?”

“Yes.”

Unexpectedly, Timothy obediently accepted the steak I handed over.

‘That’s strange.’

I narrowed my eyes.

The way Timothy accepted food from someone else looked far too natural.

‘…Am I overthinking this?’

The thought that he might normally survive on leftovers from the marquis family made me increasingly uneasy.

Timothy devoured the food in an instant, and he didn’t refuse the crème brûlée I pushed toward him, claiming I was too full.

“Th-thank you.”

Timothy wiped his mouth and thanked me.

“Was it good?”

“Yes. It was really delicious.”

Only now was a little life beginning to return to his voice.

I casually asked him a question.

“Timothy, how old are you? I just realized I never asked.”

“I’m thirteen.”

Something felt off.

Timothy was far too small for a thirteen-year-old boy.

‘At most, I thought he was twelve.’

“When’s your birthday?”

“It passed recently.”

“That’s perfect. I wanted to visit the souvenir street anyway. I’ll buy you anything you want as a birthday present.”

Timothy waved his hands frantically.

“N-no, it’s okay! I’ve already received plenty…”

But no matter how much he refused, he was still only a thirteen-year-old boy.

Against someone like me, who had grown up in the imperial palace, he could only surrender quickly.

And so we went to the souvenir street.

It should have been a precious opportunity to grow closer to Timothy, but…

“Hello, Tessa. Fancy meeting you here.”

“……?”

Half shocked and half dumbfounded, I glared at Cain Incaris.

“Didn’t you say your whereabouts couldn’t be discovered?”

At my perfectly reasonable question, Cain shamelessly answered,

“I’m disguised, so it’s fine.”

“……”

Could throwing on a brown wig really count as a “disguise”?

Meanwhile, Timothy, who looked utterly terrified, even began stammering.

“W-w-who…?”

“Just someone I know.”

I answered briefly.

“You don’t need to worry about him.”

“Tessa!”

The exaggeratedly wounded expression of my academy classmate was none of my concern whatsoever.