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Chapter 71
A long line had formed in front of the pawnshop, which was in the midst of its busy hours.
Three girls who had just arrived stood at the very end of the line, waiting their turn. Judging by the length of the line, it would probably take at least an hour before it was their turn.
Davitt slowly descended the stairs and approached them.
The three girls were so focused on their own tasks that they didn’t notice his presence.
The girl at the very front, thin and with twin braids, was clutching five or six thick notebooks. She took a deep breath and opened one of them, beginning to mumble the contents to herself.
Her eyes were half-lidded, as if the dim light made it difficult to see the letters. The basement space in front of the pawnshop was gloomy. Candlesticks were mounted on the walls, but the light was insufficient for reading.
Davitt took out a portable oil lamp from inside his robe. Striking a match, he lit it, brightening the space. The girl reading looked up, startled.
“Uh…?”
“Reading in the dark will hurt your eyes,” Davitt said. After saying it, he felt a bit embarrassed, as though he had scolded her slightly.
The girl said nothing but gave a quick smile.
“Thank you!”
Her voice was cheerful.
With the light now brightened, Davitt could roughly make out the contents of the notebook. It was the early history of the Dvorca kingdom—a myth-like story with very little realism, about the archangel Michael descending upon the slopes of Yorka’s capital and uniting with the first queen.
Davitt wasn’t particularly fond of this part.
But the girl’s notes themselves were neat and well-organized. She had clearly written only the key points, making it easy to understand.
Davitt cautiously guessed that this girl might be the younger sister of the clerk who had once received his spell. She was studious and had said she wanted to become a teacher.
“I’ll hold it for you, so read comfortably,” he said.
“Hehe, thank you, sir!”
Fortunately, the girl didn’t seem to be particularly wary of Davitt.
The girl with twin braids was of a relatively sturdy build. She rolled up her sleeves, revealing strong forearms, as if to show off her strength. The confident tilt of her mouth reflected her self-assurance.
The most noticeable one was the girl at the very end of the line. She wore a fluttering skirt and didn’t stay still for a moment. She jumped on tiptoe in place and twirled with her arms spread wide, as if dancing.
“Hey, stay still for a bit. You’re distracting,” said the sturdy girl, reproaching the dancing one. The dancing girl stopped with a pouty expression.
“I’m Danil from the Central District. May I ask why you came to the pawnshop?” Davitt asked.
It was pure curiosity. Why did these girls need money? Were they trying to pawn something valuable to borrow some cash?
If they had just reached adulthood, they were probably eighteen—around the same age as Melania.
He wondered what girls of this age thought about and how they lived their lives.
“Oh, we’re the graduating class from the St. Isabella Orphanage in the Eastern District. We just turned eighteen this year and need to find jobs,” the sturdy girl answered energetically.
“…Jobs? Isn’t this more of a pawnshop than a job placement office?”
“Don’t you know? The pawnshop owner has extensive connections in Blansk. She interviews graduating orphans and gives them job opportunities.”
“What kind of interviews?”
“You just talk about what you like and what you’re good at. If they see talent, that’s enough. I’m good at dancing. I want to be a performer!”
The dancing girl hummed a tune as she spoke.
Davitt smiled faintly. The sight reminded him of his mother. Even when she was confined as a concubine, she never forgot her dancing. To avoid forgetting her movements, she would practice barefoot without music. Watching her light, cloudlike steps, Davitt sometimes imagined:
Could my mother have been an angel descended from the heavens?
Perhaps that’s why my father kept her locked away, afraid she would fly away.
And in the end, she really did leave for the skies.
Davitt tucked away the brief sadness and smiled gently at the dancing girl. She probably couldn’t see his smile through her hair.
“You love dancing, don’t you?”
“Yes! I want to become a famous dancer like Lady Nadia and one day perform magnificently at the Yorka Royal Palace.”
The sudden mention of his mother’s name caught Davitt off guard.
“The current ruler of the Yorka Royal Palace is… Crown Prince Levanteia,” he murmured.
“Haha, that crazy guy won’t be governor forever. I’ll keep practicing hard and wait for his son to inherit the position,” she said.
The Crown Prince Daimon’s son, Prince Iason, was the lord of the neighboring city of Lodis and also the grand duke’s distant cousin. Although the succession plan wasn’t yet finalized, if the crown prince became king, his son was likely to inherit the governor position.
“And what do you want to do by dancing in front of him?”
“I’ll seduce him. Once he’s completely infatuated, I’ll… kill him and run away,” the dancing girl said, her blazing gaze not appearing joking at all. Davitt didn’t know how to respond.
“I’m serious. You got burned in the war, right? I’ll take revenge on those who did this to you,” she said, giggling and humming again, tapping her heels to the rhythm.
“If you truly love dancing, I hope you can dance for a long, long time.”
He wanted to support her, but her plan was far too dangerous. He hoped she just loved dancing and wanted to become a performer—just like his mother.
“I want to become a soldier,” said the sturdy girl this time.
Davitt hesitated again. Could women even become soldiers in Blansk? He had heard no rumors of it despite his travels around the villages.
“…Is that even possible?”
“Maybe. The pawnshop owner can do anything,” she said with a shrug.
Davitt pondered. Even if the pawnshop owner had all the money in the world, making a woman a soldier would be difficult.
The Dvorca army had disbanded after defeat, and naturally, the Levanteia army didn’t accept Dvorca soldiers—male or female.
Ah, the pawnshop owner ran a mercenary guild herself. Perhaps she could join there.
“If you join the army, what would you like to do?”
“I want to join the local security forces. The tavern guards here are useless. Even armed, they’re too scared of the stationed soldiers to act. I want to fight confidently, to protect my sisters from injustice. I can handle a sword and will learn to shoot guns too.”
She clenched her fists tightly, demonstrating determination.
Davitt silently observed her hands. The knuckles were thick, and calluses covered them. It looked like she had trained diligently on her own.
“I don’t know if it’ll work. Honestly, working at the quarry isn’t bad either. The pay is quite high,” he said.
“…I’ll cheer you on. I believe you’ll do well in whatever you choose.”
As he encouraged her, he thought of the Grand Duchess. Perhaps they could create a similar organization.
“I’ll become a teacher!”
The twin-braided girl, who had been studying under the lamp, spoke. Although Davitt already knew her dream, he asked again.
“What kind of teacher do you want to be?”
“A history teacher. If there’s no position, I’d be happy to teach Korean or math. I’m good at all subjects.”
Her confidence was inspiring, moving to the observer’s heart.
“That’s impressive. But can the pawnshop owner really create teaching positions? I thought most teachers in Blansk were priests.”
“Yes! I want to work as an assistant to a priest-teacher. Oh, teaching at a school for the deaf would be fine too! I’m good at sign language. Some kids from our orphanage attend such schools, and I’ve learned a lot from them,” she said brightly.
“…I see. So the pawnshop owner does more than lend money.”
The pawnshop owner was giving orphaned children a path to pursue their dreams. Regardless of how she obtained her wealth, connections, or power, it was an incredible thing.
“Yes! She lends money, but she also finds what people need most before money. If someone is sick, she doesn’t just give treatment money; she sends a doctor from a neighboring city. There’s a lot of help in many ways,” the girl said.
Davitt nodded and smiled.
The pawnshop owner didn’t give him money directly but let him use mercenaries she managed herself.
That was better than handing him a large sum at once. Davitt’s priority was rescuing his sister.
He suddenly thought: does Melania have dreams too?
He had never asked. He had assumed their peaceful life in the forest cabin would continue, living small happiness without needing to become anything special. But he had never considered the child’s loneliness.
Davitt quietly resolved that if Melania came to Blansk, he would let her pursue her dreams freely.
If these girls became her friends, she wouldn’t be so lonely. She could manage well even without him.
The line had shortened, and the girls were now close to the pawnshop door.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
The pawnshop owner, dressed in a black robe, stepped out. It wasn’t closing time yet; she probably just wanted some fresh air.
She quietly observed Davitt and then gestured with her hand.
[You’ve come again today. What are you doing here with my guests?]
Davitt set the lamp on the ground and stood facing her.
[I’ve been waiting for you.]
[Yes, I’ve been waiting too. I’ll accept your offer. From today, I want you to take charge of my night guard.]
Davitt froze.
The last time he had proposed escorting her home, the pawnshop owner had been rather indifferent. He expected he’d need more persuasion, yet she accepted so quickly.
“Oh, sir! Did you come looking for a job too? Congratulations on getting employed!”
He heard the twin-braided girl’s voice from behind, seemingly understanding the pawnshop owner’s sign language.
[Then see you after work.]
The pawnshop owner said and stepped back inside.
