Chapter 09: Echoes of Innocence.

Grevyn smiled with elegant grace, but to Diana, the charm was nothing more than a mask laced with malice. She knew that if she let her guard down, his words would coil around her like a serpent and strike when she least expected it. So, she returned his smile, soft and harmless, feigning the role of a naïve airhead who could be easily swayed.

“Of course, I’ll do anything for the children.” Her voice was light, almost careless, yet her eyes never wavered. They held him firmly, gleaming like stars against a dark sky.

He clasped his hands together, leaning forward with syrupy warmth. “You truly have a kind soul, Your Majesty.” He paused deliberately, then added,
“Perhaps we could discuss the date I’ll be collecting the donations from the palace?”

Diana tilted her head slightly, her smile unchanged. “Wouldn’t that be unfair to the other caretakers, though—allowing only you to collect the donations ahead of time?”

His composure faltered for a split second, his eyes widening and lips parting just enough to betray surprise. “That is… quite unfair.” He quickly recovered, stroking his chin as though pondering deeply, though Diana could see the clouds of calculation gathering in his expression.

Diana raised a finger, her voice steady. “I have an idea, though it will demand much effort on your part.”
She paused deliberately, watching his face for the slightest shift. Yet his expression remained unreadable, almost blank, as if he wished not to know nothing.
“It may tire you,” she continued, her smile sharpening, “but I assure you, if you agree, you’ll have the donations in your hands as soon as the meeting ends.”

Leo’s head snapped toward her, bewilderment plain in his eyes.
What is she saying? he thought, panic flickering in his chest.
We don’t have any money left—certainly not enough to donate again this soon.

Grevyn leaned forward, his eyes glinting with sudden interest. “And what would that be, Your Majesty?” His voice brimmed with eagerness, already tasting the reward she dangled before him.

Diana’s lips curled into a bright, almost innocent smile. “I want you to deliver the news to every caretaker personally. Right now.”

For the first time, his composure slipped. Grevyn’s eyes widened, realization dawning on him. He understood exactly what such a task entailed.

His face stiffened, caught between irritation and calculation. Then, with a deep sigh, he forced himself into calm—though beneath it, conflict churned.

Diana clasped her hands together. “I know it’s difficult, but after seeing the house with my own eyes, I can’t ignore it. I want to renovate this place as quickly as possible—for the children’s sake.”
A single tear welled and slid down her cheek. She reached for his hand, wiping it away with her finger as if the gesture itself carried weight. Her voice softened.

“I’ll donate whatever amount it takes to give them a happier life.”

Grevyn’s jaw slackened, his hands beginning to tremble—not from fear, but from the rush of excitement flooding him.

She’ll give as much as it takes? Enough to change everything?

The edges of his vision seemed to blur, the thrill of greed setting his pulse racing. His lips quivered before curling into a grin that spread almost unnaturally wide. His eyes narrowed into slits, no longer bothering to conceal the malice brimming inside.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he lifted his hat and placed it firmly on his head. Then, without sparing a glance at the children, he swung open the door.
“I’ll be on my way, then.”

And just like that, he stepped out, leaving only the echo of his footsteps in the silence.

They have not moved yet. Leo and Diana exchanged a wary glance, both holding their breath as the footsteps echoed outside. Only when the sound faded into silence did Diana release a heavy sigh, pressing a hand against her chest to steady herself.

She looked at the children at the table, and her heart clenched so sharply it felt as though it might break apart. Their limbs were frail, their clothes nothing but ragged fabric full of holes and grime. On the table lay only a crust of bread and a thin, cloudy soup. Even from a distance she could tell how tough the bread was, each bite dragging a wince across their hollow faces. Fear lingered in their eyes, as if life itself had carved it there.

Diana’s chest ached, and because her emotions were bound to Towa’s, the pain struck her twice as deep. She clutched the scrap of fabric against her heart, forcing a trembling breath past her lips before it left her in a heavy sigh.
These children… they don’t deserve this harsh treatment. Not any of this.

Her gaze shifted toward the girl who had been staring at her the entire time, as if weighing her every move. Diana stepped forward cautiously, each movement deliberate, until she stood close enough to see the boy sitting beside the girl.
His small body shook, trembling so hard it seemed the chair itself quivered with him.

Then, without even looking up, his voice broke through the silence.

“D-D-Do you p-plan to sell us t-to another kingdom?” the boy’s voice shaking uncontrollably.

Diana and Leo froze in shock. Their bodies stiffened as if the words themselves had bound them in place.

“H-Huh?” Diana whispered.

The girl beside him pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. “They won’t do that, Glenn,” she murmured, her voice gentle and steady.

“But…about what Mr. Grevyn said?” Glenn pressed, his trembling fingers clutching her arm. “He told us someone would come to pick us up someday… I thought it was them.”

Leo leaned his palm against the table and dropped to one knee in front of the boy. The sudden gesture startled Diana—she hadn’t expected him to move like that.

“Your name is Glenn, right?” Leo asked. His tone was firm, but filled with kindness. Glenn hesitated before forcing himself to meet his eyes, then gave a small nod.

A faint smile touched Leo’s lips. He reached out and patted the boy’s head as gently as he could.
“It’s alright, Glenn.” He gestured his thumb toward Diana with a wide, confident grin. “She’ll do everything in her power to protect all of you. And me? I’ll do everything I possibly can to make sure that happens.”

Glenn’s eyes wavered, moisture gathering until a tear slid down his cheek. He looked at Diana, his voice trembling with fragile hope.
“A-Are you really going to save u-us?”

Diana’s heart softened. A smile touched her lips, warmth flooding her chest.
“Yes. I’ll do anything to give you all a better life.” Her gaze shifted to the girl, steady and determined. “That’s why… Please, tell me what’s truly happening in this orphanage.”

The girl rose slowly, her small frame carrying a surprising weight of resolve. She crossed the room with measured steps until she reached a bare stretch of wall. Placing her palm against the cold surface, she lingered there, as if the wall itself held the truth she bore. Then, she turned back to Diana, her eyes sharpened with a seriousness that pierced the air.

“If you truly wish to know what happens in every orphanage of this kingdom…” Her voice faltered for a moment, then hardened. “Then you must prepare yourself for what comes next.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, her brows knitting into a frown, as though bracing Diana for the storm behind her words.

Both of their brows furrowed, confused by her sudden movements. Yet, as they met her gaze, they felt it—the weight pressing down on her chest, the strain in every breath she took. It wasn’t easy for her to speak, but still, Diana straightened, her voice steady.

“We are prepared.”

The girl’s lips curved into a faint smile. Her hand lingered along the cracks of the wall, tracing them as though memorizing their secrets—until a sharp click echoed through the room. The floor before her sank away, revealing a dark hole and a staircase that spiraled into an underground passage. She stepped onto the first stair and turned back to them.

“Please, follow me.”

Diana and Leo exchanged a glance, their throats tightening as they swallowed hard. Without a word, they nodded and rose together. Shadows stretched long behind them as they descended after her. At the tunnel’s entrance, a lone lamp flickered dimly; the girl lifted it with steady hands, its soft glow guiding them deeper underground.

They walked through the tunnel with careful, deliberate steps, the girl leading the way with the lamp held firmly in her hand. The flickering glow carved faint outlines into the darkness, revealing damp stone walls and clusters of insects crawling across the ground.

With each step deeper, the air grew heavier, and Diana felt her chest tighten, as though even breathing was being denied to her. She turned her gaze toward the girl.

“What is your name?” Diana asked, her tone gentle, hoping to ease the heavy silence.

“I’m Sasha,” the girl replied, her voice steady but quiet. “I’m the oldest child in the orphanage right now.”

“How old are you, Sasha?”

“I’m already fourteen.”

Leo’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before he spoke. “What made you an orphan, Sasha?”

“I—” she paused, and for a moment they could feel the weight pressing inside her chest. “T-The reason why I became an orphan is because my father sold me at a slavery auction. He had too many debts to pay… because he was a drunkard. I was only five back then. I moved from place to place, and not a single orphanage wanted me—until I finally reached this Kingdom.”

Diana pressed her lips together. The way Sasha said it was so natural, so stripped of sorrow, as if the wound had long since gone numb.

“I see. If you don’t want to talk about your past, Sasha, you don’t need to force yourself,” Diana said gently.

But Sasha shook her head and tightened her grip on the lamp, her knuckles pale in its glow. “I-I promised myself that I would do anything to help my younger siblings. Even if it means telling my past to strangers… even if it means offering my life to the devil. In order to save them. I will!”

Her voice suddenly dropped heavy in the air, weighted with desperation so raw that it shattered the fragile calm surrounding them.

Then suddenly, a stench began to seep into the air—so foul it twisted their stomachs and drew a sharp furrow to their brows. The odor clung to their throats, thick and sour, but neither of them spoke. They only pressed on, their steps following closely behind Sasha’s.

Out of nowhere, she halted, and so did they. Confused, they watched as she placed the lamp onto a hook fastened to the wall. Turning back to them, a faint thin line flickered across her lips.

“We have arrived,” she said softly, lifting the candle from the lamp with careful hands. “Please wait here for a moment. I’ll go light the candles in the room.”

As they passed by the hole, a foul stench seeped out again. They took a cautious step forward, their thoughts drowning in the odor. It smelled of rotting flesh mixed with urine and feces. But what struck them most was the heavy scent of blood, so strong it clung to the air and smothered their lungs.

One by one, Sasha lit the candles, the small flames pushing back the shadows. Their eyes widened in disbelief, their faces drained of color. Their mouths hung open as sweat slid down their skin, their trembling hands refusing to steady. What they saw etched itself into their very souls, scarring their hearts forever.