The whole ride to the orphanage, Carlyle’s heart had been pounding with a boiling sort of excitement.
At last.
He finally had a junior who wouldn’t slow him down.
One who wouldn’t cost him time he had to spend teaching the basics, one who could back him up while he was out in the field—!
And she can even see the core of black magic, on top of it all.
Leila Rowell was a single thread of light, a lifeline thrown down to save him.
Not seizing hold of it would have been idiotic.
At minimum, she’ll work in our department for three years.
In that time, he’d find a way to break the black magic curse that had tormented his family for so long.
Root out whoever cast it, down to the last one.
Inside the carriage, Carlyle had clenched his fist and silently cheered.
But the moment he actually arrived at the orphanage where Leila Rowell lived, all that excitement froze solid.
“Please wait here a moment. I’ll go explain the situation first.”
“Mm.”
He understood why she’d gone ahead without him, but honestly, it made no difference.
I can hear all of it anyway…
House Rupesk paid for its curse with senses sharper than everyone else’s, several times over.
Without meaning to, Carlyle found himself listening in.
[What took you so long! I told you to help bathe the children the moment you got off work!]
Leila Rowell’s conversation with the orphanage’s director carried perfectly clearly to his ears.
[By the way, how much is your salary going to be? Once it comes in, you’re to hand it straight over to me without me having to ask.]
[It hasn’t even been a month yet, so I don’t know the amount for certain.]
[Don’t talk back!]
Whatever excitement had filled Carlyle’s head burned off completely.
He hadn’t stopped to consider what kind of life Leila Rowell actually lived.
And she never even wanted to join the Black Spoon Division to begin with.
A sudden wave of shame washed over him, and Carlyle pushed straight out of the carriage.
Rowell will handle it well enough on her own.
Even so — wasn’t this exactly the moment to step in? He was her mentor, after all.
The instant she saw him, both the director’s eyes and mouth went perfectly round.
“My apologies for the late introduction. I’m Carlyle Rupesk. I’ll be working alongside Rowell.”
“N-n-not late at all! How should I even greet a — a young lord—”
“There’s no need to make a fuss over it.”
While that was happening, Carlyle gave Leila a small nod.
Go on and pack your things.
His junior, who’d been eyeing him with open reluctance, caught on quickly.
She read the gesture and slipped inside the building, while the director’s attention stayed fixed entirely on him.
“So — but what brings you all the way here?”
“I came to let you know that Rowell will be staying at the palace from now on.”
“Th-the palace?”
“That’s right. She’ll need time to get used to the work.”
The director’s mouth rounded out further and further.
Not knowing the palace kept staff dormitories for its employees, she landed on a rather different conclusion.
That child’s caught the eye of someone important! Well, of course — she was always such a pretty one.
For the Young Grand Duke of house Rupesk himself to be personally escorting her around, that could only mean—!
The director straightened her posture and bowed, all courtesy.
“Please look after our Leila well. She’s not the most capable girl, but I hope you’ll be fond of her all the same.”
“Hm. She’s far from lacking. Of everyone I’ve worked with, she’s the most outstanding.”
The sharpness of her instincts, the hidden ability — no one among the new hires came close.
“I intend to look after her properly from here on.”
He’d bound her to this by his own greed, so the least he could do was see her through it responsibly for the next three years.
Having read the director’s own greed in that moment, Carlyle offered up a bargain of his own.
“With Rowell away, I intend to see this place properly compensated. We’ll bring in as many new staff as you need.”
“Oh my!”
“You needn’t worry about the cost in the slightest.”
Delighted, the director clasped both hands together.
“To think she’d find her own path forward like this! Please do take good care of Leila. Aside from having no parents, she really is a perfect match for marriage…”
“Was there anything unusual, when Rowell was first left in your care?”
Not wanting anyone else to bring up her circumstances so carelessly, Carlyle steered the conversation elsewhere.
Worried she might have offended him, the director scrambled to gather herself.
“Oh — my apologies. Well, nothing I’d exactly call unusual…”
She hesitated, fumbling, before finally dredging up the old memory.
“She was simply left in front of the orphanage one night, out of nowhere. No sign of anyone outside, either.”
“She just… appeared, out of nowhere?”
“Well, plenty of them leave their children behind that way!”
“…”
“So I gave her the surname myself, but the given name was left with her on a note.”
‘Leila’ meant, roughly, ‘lady of the night.’
An old-fashioned name for a commoner.
And an archaic word, no less?
Just then, a boy who looked about four years old came toddling up to Carlyle.
Black hair, blue eyes, and an expression of deep sadness.
“Mister, mister.”
“Hm?”
…Had the boy just called him mister?
“Henry!”
The director shrieked, but the boy had already spoken to him.
“Sis Leila, are you not living with us anymore?”
“Ah… that’s right. I have to go to the palace for a while.”
“But then when will you play with us, if you’re workin’?”
“…”
“Can’t you just… stay here with us?”
Carlyle quietly took the child’s hand.
Once, his own family had been full of little siblings just like this.
“I’m sorry.”
“Hng…”
“Ahem. Would you show me to your sister’s room?”
“Okay!”
The boy called Henry perked right up and led him by the hand toward the second floor.
Carlyle’s brow furrowed.
Strange.
This orphanage should have been receiving more than enough in donations. So why did so many corners of it look unrepaired?
Damage this minor should have been fixed several times over with the funding coming in.
Before long, they reached their destination.
Leila Rowell had left the door open while she packed.
Henry sensed something and slipped away, and once he was alone, Carlyle found his mouth going dry.
Because Rowell, her back turned to him, had her shoulders trembling.
Could she be… crying?
The shock hit like a fist to the back of his skull.
He understood, then, exactly what he needed to do.
I should have apologized to her first.
He’d been so swept up in his own goal that he’d charged ahead without a thought.
Held a contract out in front of a face that was straining, badly, not to show how much she hated this.
[Young Master, please help—!]
[Lord Carlyle!]
[Aaagh!]
And still, he couldn’t afford to let her go.
Even now, the voices of the people who called out to him replayed in his mind.
Which meant, at the very least, he owed her an apology.
“Rowell.”
“…”
“I’m sorry for dragging you into our department by force.”
“…”
“We’re short-handed and I wasn’t thinking straight. I just — wanted someone capable to come work with us.”
But Rowell still didn’t turn to face him. That was how frightened and angry she must be, wasn’t it?
Right, words alone won’t be enough.
The time had come to prove his sincerity through something more than talk.
There’s no other way, is there.
After I made it up to my room.
“Argh!”
I swore a little while I packed, worked up as I was. Maybe a little more than a little.
Not that there’s much to pack in the first place.
All I really owned were…
The books I’d studied to become a palace official. Reference materials. Notebooks stained with spots of blood from too many late nights.
Physical proof of how hard I’d worked to land a good job.
I did not go through all that just to end up in the most dangerous department in the building!
And this time around, I’d wanted to coast through life on easy street. Ugh.
Still, I wrapped my arms around myself and thought it through.
More dangerous things are only going to keep happening from here — I can’t just sit around dazed about it.
Even a high salary is worthless if the body spending it isn’t in one piece.
But if I wanted out of the department and there was no way to actually resign?
There was only one option left, in the end.
“…Hah. That department itself.”
I’d just have to get rid of it.
