“My, the carriage is full again today.”
The servers were dutifully loading box after box of macarons. The luggage compartment alone hadn’t been enough, and now the passenger section was stacked with them too.
“We’ve included five extra boxes as a compliment, ma’am.”
“Oh, wonderful! Thank you so much!”
Thirty boxes purchased and five boxes free.
An absolute windfall.
“Emily — that should be more than enough for the servants, don’t you think? I want to give one box to each person.”
“More than enough.”
“Lovely! Then let’s just walk off the cake a little before we head back.”
We told the driver we’d need about thirty minutes and went back inside. The cakes Katherine had treated us to had been finished down to the last crumb — leaving food unfinished felt disrespectful to the person who had bought it, even if our stomachs were protesting.
“It’s only four o’clock. Where shall we go next?”
“Shall we just take a short stroll and then head back? The macarons are perishable — if we leave it too late, it won’t do.”
“Fair enough.”
The square was still full of people in the afternoon light. The spring weather had drawn out families and couples in large numbers. I let my gaze drift around— and then it settled on the area where the crowd was thickest.
In the center of the main square, there was a large fountain crowned by a goddess statue. Water arched high into the air and scattered in fine mist.
I pointed toward it.
“Over there. Shall we go see the fountain?”
“Let’s.”
We walked at an easy pace and reached it quickly.
“Oh — a rainbow!”
“How lovely. The colors are so vivid.”
I pointed up at the goddess statue at the top of the fountain. Where the clear, leaping water met the gleaming afternoon sun, a rainbow had formed. Emily tilted her head back and gazed at it with quiet delight.
“The weather must be especially fine today. There are whole families out and about— hmm?”
I was glancing idly around when one figure caught my eye.
While everyone else was clustered in couples and family groups, one small boy sat entirely alone on a bench, still and unhurried.
“He looks young… did he come by himself?”
I approached him carefully.
About eight, maybe?
The child was busily drawing something.
“Hello there, little one.”
I spoke to him on the chance that he might be lost. He seemed young to be out on his own.
“Hello.”
He greeted me without looking up.
The child kept his eyes fixed on his drawing and paid me no further attention. With the blunt stub of a black crayon gripped in his fist, he dragged bold strokes across the paper without hesitation.
“Um — did you come here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Where are your parents?”
“I’m not quite sure. Somewhere in the capital, probably.”
It was not a very childlike answer. The capital was enormous — ‘somewhere in it’ wasn’t particularly useful information.
“Are you lost? Or have you lost your parents?”
“I know my way. My parents just don’t live with me ordinarily.”
“…I see.”
I studied the child more carefully.
He was wearing a plain shirt — the kind commoner boys tended to wear — paired with a pair of black overalls. His clothes were neat and clean.
‘But he’s clearly been left to his own devices.’
I glanced at Emily. She had the same look of puzzled observation on her face.
I smoothed my skirts and turned back to the boy.
“Would you mind if I sit beside you?”
“Go ahead.”
His permission was dry and brief. Emily and I settled onto the bench on either side of him.
Now what? If he was a lost child, I should try to find his parents…
“So. What’s your name?”
“I’m not a ‘little one’, by the way. I’m nine.”
An obvious small child was insisting he was not a small child.
“Isn’t nine still young?”
“Who decided that?”
“Well… that’s a fair point.”
That reply knocked the wind out of me.
Right. He didn’t like being called ‘little one.’ I’d use his name instead.
“Then will you tell me your name? I won’t call you little one if you do.”
“Kayrin.”
“Oh, what a lovely name.”
‘Kayrin.’
It had an unusually appealing sound to it.
I had complimented the name, but the child’s expression remained entirely flat.
‘Don’t children usually enjoy compliments?’
Slightly at a loss, I moved quickly to a different topic. Something a child might actually find interesting.
“What are you doing out here alone?”
“People-watching.”
“…Right, people-watching is a fine pastime.”
‘People-watching’ — not just ‘watching people.’ An oddly precise way to put it. Particularly for a nine-year-old.
Every question seemed to bounce off him like a shield.
I glanced to my right.
Emily had her lips pursed into a small circle, studying the child intently.
‘This won’t be easy. All right then — let me try a different angle.’
I took a discreet look at what Kayrin was drawing.
“Oh my, did you draw this? That’s quite—”
‘Why is everyone in the picture bleeding?’
It was not a casual drawing.
“What a… striking piece of work. You have quite an unusual artistic sensibility.”
“People say that.”
Kayrin replied with total composure.
“Oh — would you like something to eat? I bought rather too many, so I have plenty to spare.”
“What kind?”
“Macarons.”
“I don’t eat those.”
“Why not?”
“Those are for children.”
“…I’m not a child.”
“Do you like macarons?”
“Yes!”
I answered on reflex.
And then felt somewhat embarrassed. By Kayrin’s standards, I was apparently a child.
“Still — just try one. They’re good.”
Kayrin looked at me for a long, still moment. For a nine-year-old, his presence was distinctly unusual.
“…You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”
‘What is this familiar feeling of being under pressure?’
Those eyes — sharp enough to cut, cool enough to chill — had a quality that felt unsettlingly familiar.
“Your eyes are red too, aren’t they? What a clear, beautiful color.”
“Give me one.”
“Hmm?”
“A macaron.”
“Oh — you’ll have one?”
I opened the macaron box. Yellow, pink, sky blue — a neat row of them in cheerful colors.
‘Which color would he want…’
“The brown one. The darkest color.”
“…Alright.”
‘Nom.’
The child who had declared he didn’t eat such things held the chocolate macaron in both hands and chewed it with quiet, devoted concentration. The lips chewing away were wonderfully plump and vividly colored.
‘What kind of nine-year-old has this level of dignity?’
Emily was watching Kayrin eat with the same fixed attention she rarely gave anything.
“You’re adorable.”
“I’m not adorable at all.”
“You really are. Could I poke your cheek just once?”
“…If you like.”
I gave it a gentle poke. It gave way like soft rice cake.
“Oh, you’re so ‘cute!'”
I couldn’t help kicking my feet a little. Kayrin’s brow furrowed.
“Sorry — did that startle you?”
“No. You’re just loud.”
“I — I’m sorry. So, Kayrin — why are you sitting here alone?”
“Because…”
I leaned in to listen.
“I ran away.”
“From home?”
“From school.”
“Why?”
“It’s boring. They make you study useless things all day. There’s nothing more tedious than living the way other people have decided you should.”
“And — you’re not planning to go home either?”
“No. I ran away.”
His parents didn’t seem particularly attentive. An hour had passed since I’d found him and no one had come looking.
‘There isn’t even a lost-child center around here.’
“Then why don’t you come with me for a bit? It’ll get dangerous here once it gets dark. I’ll help you find your parents.”
“You’ll help find them? That seems difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
“It’s fine. My boyfriend is very wealthy and capable. He can help.”
A child left entirely to his own devices by his parents — that was no good.
‘Wait. Is this kidnapping?’
There was a possibility someone might misunderstand my intentions entirely. But I couldn’t leave him here alone. He didn’t even know where his parents were.
‘Kael. I have Kael. I’ll ask him to help find this child’s family.’
“Who’s your boyfriend?”
“Someone. Very handsome and very strong.”
“Couldn’t that be bias speaking?”
“…It’s not. Other people said so too.”
Emily chimed in.
“He is objectively good-looking. Exceptionally tall as well. …But you know, you kind of resemble him.”
