Chapter 08: Sweet Tongue.

(Narrative)

As they walked along the road, people shuffled past them with hollow steps. Diana’s eyes lingered on each face, noting the emptiness in their expressions. It was as if tomorrow had already been stolen from them—crushed beneath the weight of a cruel kingdom that had left them with nothing.

A sudden ache throbbed in her chest. She froze for a moment, startled by the unfamiliar heaviness, until she realized—it wasn’t her pain. It was Towa’s sorrow bleeding into her heart. Her hand gripped the fabric over her chest, fingers curling as she frowned.

Leo glanced at her sharply, catching the unease carved into her features.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows knitting together.

She shook her head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Are we close to the orphanage, Leo?” she asked, steering the conversation away.

He lifted a finger, pointing toward the end of the road. “Once we reach there, you’ll see it.”

She gave a small nod, though her hand lingered against her chest

After they reached the end of the road, both of them came to a halt. Diana’s eyes widened in surprise. The land before them was wide and open, meant to be a safe haven for children—a place where laughter and games should have filled the air. But the reality was far from that. The only house standing is the orphanage itself, isolated in the quiet expanse.

A gentle breeze swept past, making Diana’s green hair dance with the wind, while Leo’s sharp gaze remained fixed on the house. His brow furrowed deeply.

Diana’s heart sank as she studied the house. The ceiling sagged dangerously, ready to collapse at any moment. Walls were riddled with holes, the wooden door hung loose from its hinges, and shards of broken glass clung to the frames of shattered windows. The yard was an untamed field of tall grass, a sign of long neglect.

Her eyes softened with sorrow as she turned to Leo.
“How can the children live in this place?” she whispered, her voice heavy with dismay.

But before she could step closer, she noticed Leo’s expression change—his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in shock. It struck her then: he hadn’t known.

But still, Diana took a step toward the decaying house, but Leo’s hand shot out, gripping her arm firmly. The sudden touch startled her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, brows knitting in concern.

Leo’s gaze darkened, and his voice lowered to a warning.
“Let me investigate this. You should return to the palace.”

Diana instantly shook her head. “No. I want to see the situation of the orphanage with my own eyes. And since I’m already here, you can’t do anything about it anymore.” Her voice was calm, but her hand pressed gently against the one gripping her arm, softening her defiance.

Leo’s brows knit tighter. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Your safety matters the most.”

A faint smile curved her lips. “My safety is assured when I’m with you.” She carefully pried his fingers from her arm, her touch lingering as if to remind him of the trust between them. “You’re going to protect me, right?”

His eyes widened—caught off guard by the simplicity of her faith in him. Then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You really know how to make me soft, don’t you?”

They walked deliberately toward the house, the breeze cool against their skin even as the sun burned bright above, casting its light over everything. The calm air almost mocked the heaviness settling in Diana’s chest.

“I only pray the other orphanages aren’t in the same condition,” she murmured, her voice low but firm. “If they are… then I’ll have no choice but to request an audience with the Pope. This can’t be left unaddressed.”

Leo glanced at her, his tone gentler though concern laced his words.
“Let’s just hope the children there are being treated with the care they deserve.”

As they drew closer to the house, a sudden gust of wind swept through them, whipping Diana’s ponytail into a strange, restless dance. The air shifted with it—the calm atmosphere turning heavy, pressing against their chests as though unseen hands were holding their feet in place. Diana felt the pressure gnawing at her, but she forced herself to keep moving until they reached the door. Just as her hand touched the handle, Leo stopped her. She glanced up at him, puzzled.

“Stay behind me. Let me handle this,” he said firmly.

Without hesitation, Diana stepped back, hiding behind his broad frame. Leo pushed the door open, and what greeted them made them both release a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding.

Inside, children sat gathered around a long table, laughing and chattering as they ate. A girl, no older than fourteen, gently wiped soup from a younger boy’s lips, her smile soft with care, while others enjoyed their food with bright, eager voices.

Then, from the head of the table, a man wearing a robe like priestalike, lifted his gaze and noticed them. His eyes widened in shock. He shot to his feet, his lips curving into a trembling smile as he rushed forward.

“Y-Your Majesty… T-Towa-sama!?”

Leo shifted slightly, his stance half-blocking Diana’s view of the man from the doorway. Yet Diana stepped beside him, her calm smile softening the tension.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Caretaker,” she said, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Forgive us for the unannounced visit. I hope we aren’t troubling you.”

The caretaker flustered, waving his hands as if to brush the concern away.
“O-Of course not,” he replied with a nervous laugh, scratching at the back of his head. “It’s just… quite surprising to see you here in person.”

“First off, let us come in,” Leo interjected, his gaze locking firmly onto the caretaker’s eyes.

For a heartbeat, the man met his stare. Leo noticed the subtle flicker in his expression—something restrained, as though he were concealing a truth just beneath the surface. Then, with a practiced smile, the caretaker stepped aside and gestured toward the interior.
“Of course. Please, come in. It’s getting cold out here.”

As they stepped inside, the wooden floor groaned beneath their feet, each crack echoing through the room and deepening the uneasy silence. Diana and Leo exchanged a fleeting glance but quickly masked their suspicion with polite smiles, feigning an air of carelessness despite the heaviness pressing against their chests.

The caretaker broke the silence with another awkward laugh.
“Forgive me for asking so suddenly, Your Majesty, but may I know the reason for your visit?”

Diana nodded, her smile faint but steady.
“I want to see the children,” she answered without hesitation, her eyes drifting toward the table where they sat.

But before she could take a step forward, the caretaker shifted quickly, positioning himself in her way. Diana’s brows tightened ever so slightly as her gaze lingered on him. He clasped his hands together, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I see. Watching the children live happily is… truly a wonderful source of motivation for us, isn’t it, Your Majesty?” His calm tone rang too carefully, as though rehearsed, hiding something beneath its surface.

“You are right about that.” Diana let out a small laugh, though the awkwardness in her tone was impossible to miss.

For a few seconds, their eyes locked. The air thickened, heavy with unspoken challenge. Leo felt it immediately—the caretaker’s gaze pressing down on her, trying to intimidate her. Yet, what unsettled him more was Diana’s composure. Her hands didn’t tremble, her legs didn’t falter. She stood firm, unmoved, as if the man’s oppressive stare meant nothing.

Then it happened. The caretaker felt a tug at his sleeve. Without hesitation, he whipped his arm back with startling force. A sharp crack followed as his hand struck the head of a small child—one of the orphans who had only reached for him. The boy collapsed to the floor, the sound of his body hitting the ground echoing through the tense silence.

Diana and Leo’s eyes widened in shock, unable to grasp how the situation had escalated so suddenly. Leo fixed his gaze on the caretaker, and what he saw churned his stomach. The man’s face contorted—brows drawn tight, nose wrinkled as if at a foul stench, lips curled in open disgust. It wasn’t concern he showed to the child he got smacked with, but something far more bitter, something laced with disdain.

Leo’s hand clenched into a fist, knuckles blanching as anger surged through him. But he forced himself to release it just as quickly, swallowing the heat before it could spill over.

Diana was about to help the child, but the caretaker knelt first, lifting him gently to his feet with a reassuring smile. He brushed the dirt from the boy’s clothes, careful and deliberate, as though nothing were amiss.

“I told you to call my name before tugging at my sleeve, didn’t I? I only swatted because I thought it was a fly,” he said, his voice soft and warm, a gentle hand ruffling the boy’s hair.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grevyn,” the child murmured, his voice low, heavy with regret.

Diana’s gaze wandered across the hall, but it lingered, almost against her will, on the table where the children sat. Her eyes shifted left, then right, until they locked with a young girl’s stare. The girl did not blink. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, almost pleading—as though her eyes were trying to speak what her lips could not. Diana’s brow furrowed faintly, struggling to untangle the silent message hidden within that stare.

Then, without warning, the girl lifted her hand ever so slightly. Her palm opened, thumb tucked in, the remaining fingers curling down over it. The small motion trembled, fragile yet desperate.

Diana’s breath caught. Her green Irish eyes widened, trembling with disbelief. Her lips parted, quivering before she pressed them together, biting down hard as her brows knit tighter. Her hand curled into a fist, knuckles whitening, the tension surging through her until it shook uncontrollably.

Leo noticed her, his brows knitting in confusion as he caught the storm of emotions surging through Diana. Just as he reached out to hold her hand, the caretaker rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his sleeve.

With a faint smile, he turned to her.
“I apologize for my absurd behavior just now. Please believe me, I had no intention of harming him, Your Majesty.” His eyes glimmered faintly, sincerity shining through.

Diana offered a gentle smile, dismissing his concern with a wave of her hand.
“I know it wasn’t intentional, Mr. Grevyn,” she replied swiftly.

Then suddenly, the atmosphere around him thickened, heavy and suffocating. His usual smile vanished, replaced by a coldness as his eyes fixed on Diana’s.

“Thank you for always donating to the orphanage every month, Your Majesty.” His lips curved into a smile, yet it was unsettling—devoid of kindness, tainted with greed. “I’m deeply grateful for your generosity. Because of you, these children have food to eat every day, a roof to shield them from the cold, and a home filled with love.”

He paused. The smile faded again, his gaze hardening into a sharp glare. “Unfortunately, this month’s funds are already running thin. Our food storage is nearly empty. If this continues, the children will surely go hungry.”

Diana’s eyes burned with fury, locked onto him, unshaken by the intimidation he tried to impose.

“I know Your Majesty is a kind ruler who would never let these children starve… right?” His smile returned, quick and sharp, but it dripped with malice.