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Chapter 09
I swallowed the rising heat in my chest several times before I could finally speak.
“Use this to buy some medicine and put it on.”
“…….”
He fished through his pocket and clumsily handed me the coins he could grab.
Bastian didn’t move; he just stared at me.
His eyes, bright red as if soaked in blood, fixed on mine. That sharp, emotionless gaze sent a chill down my spine.
When he still didn’t react, I shoved my wallet into his pocket.
“Go.”
I gave him a gentle push, and only then did he flinch, as if waking from a dream, before vanishing into the crowd.
Not a single word of thanks.
“Hey! Miss! What do you think you’re doing?! Giving mercy to a worthless street rat like that!”
The baker finally lost his temper.
“Why should I care how I spend my money?” I said.
He froze for a moment, clearly muttering complaints like, ‘Kids these days, they just don’t understand the world.’
I knew this wasn’t a perfect solution.
But no matter how grand or clever my plans for him were, if I ignored the Bastian right in front of me, what good were they?
Empty words of pity and sympathy couldn’t fill a starving belly.
That much, I knew better than anyone.
‘Sorry, Adelaide. My situation isn’t ideal either… but this will be resolved soon! Hang in there!’
‘I can’t lend money, but I’ll pray every day for your family to rise again.’
‘I’m disappointed, Adelaide. I never thought you’d be so materialistic!’
The memories prickled, twisting my stomach.
Then I heard it.
“Adelaide? Are you alright? Your face is pale… what happened?”
Uncle Guillaume had finally pushed through the crowd, demanding an explanation.
He seemed so distracted by the toys that he still wore a ridiculous hat and carried a toy carriage and soldier dolls in his arms.
After hearing what had happened, he clicked his tongue and patted the baker’s shoulder.
“Adelaide didn’t mean any harm. And you sold the bread, so you didn’t lose anything. Just let it go.”
“Ha… understood. Still, please keep a close eye on the young lady. There’s no need to show mercy to such scoundrels.”
The baker glared one last time in the direction Bastian had vanished before returning to his work.
“Adelaide?”
“…Yes, Uncle Guillaume.”
“We’ll talk more at home.”
Still, I had done well. Uncle Guillaume added quietly, just loud enough for me to hear:
“Next time, don’t step in by yourself. You could’ve been hurt.”
“I’m sorry… the money was from my parents to buy toys…”
His large hand rested gently on my head.
“I’m not scolding you. I’m just concerned. I’ll buy the toys myself. You earned the right to a little good deed.”
I just nodded silently.
“Definitely need a nanny.”
I muttered to myself as Antoine, who had been sucking on one of the toy soldiers we’d bought, looked at me curiously.
“Antoine, spit it out.”
“Teh!”
Ah, good boy. Seeing him listen so obediently, I could almost believe he was an angel.
What kind of angel, though…?
Hmm…
An angel of the garbage heap…?
‘It’s okay if an angel isn’t great at tidying toys!’
I exhaled and began gathering the scattered toys.
This one was the toy soldier from the other day, that one the bamboo flute Uncle Guillaume brought from the East.
Wooden blocks, lying like hidden landmines, waiting for the soles of our feet.
The servants had tried to keep everything tidy every hour, but Antoine quickly turned the playroom into chaos.
The reason was simple: boredom.
Playing by the fountain or observing ants was exciting for only a day or two. We needed new stimulation and endless dopamine.
He begged to go out with the maid when there was no nanny, but Mother was firm.
‘No! After what happened recently… for now, stay home and play with me, alright?’
I couldn’t push back against my pale, near-collapse mother.
I silently prayed for a good nanny to arrive soon.
And just as I prayed, it happened.
“Adelaide, Antoine. Are you here?”
“Mother?”
The playroom door opened, and my pale mother stepped in.
She wasn’t alone. A stranger followed her, and Antoine and I simply stared at her.
“Miss Bobbins, these are my children: Adelaide, the eldest, and Antoine.”
The woman’s black hair shone like bird feathers, elegantly twisted, and her lapis-lazuli eyes studied Antoine.
She looked to be in her late twenties or older, but with clean skin and perfect posture, she seemed more of a young lady than a madam.
“Hello.”
I didn’t know who she was, but since Mother brought her, I greeted her.
I nudged Antoine, who was hesitant to step forward, and he timidly followed me, bowing his head.
“Hello…”
His tiny voice was utterly lacking in confidence.
“From now on, Miss Camille Bobbins will take care of you in place of Madam Severin. So you must listen well, alright?”
Mother’s pale face, exhaling in relief, made my heart sink a little. Clearly, she hadn’t fully recovered.
“Miss Camille isn’t nobility, but she finished her studies at a girls’ school and spent time with Countess de Roanne as her companion, learning refinement and grace. Always behave politely and learn well. Especially you, Adelaide.”
No wonder nannies had better posture than most. Camille seemed more a governess than a simple nanny.
“The Countess’s recommendation said she can read, write, compose poetry, play piano, paint, embroider, even dance. She taught her like a granddaughter in her later years—must be true.”
Camille smiled elegantly and nodded.
‘Education…’
Losing the chance to learn had been one of the hardest things about my family’s fall.
“I look forward to learning from you, Miss Bobbins.”
“Please, just call me Camille. It’s my honor to meet you.”
The thought that I could finally satisfy my thirst for knowledge made me like Camille instantly.
Even with a new nanny, Antoine still needed a friend.
“Antoine, come here for a moment. Don’t you want a friend?”
“A friend?”
“Go to Mother and say, ‘Mom, I want to make friends.’ Don’t say I told you to.”
He nodded obediently and approached Mother, who had been dozing in the sunlight, tugging at her skirt.
“Hmm? Antoine? What is it?”
“Mother, I want to make friends.”
“A friend?”
“Am I good enough?”
He turned to me, grinning brightly.
Mother gave a suspicious glance, but I pretended not to notice.
“Hehe.”
…Sigh. Well, he’s a good kid, so that’s fine.
