TNBTW | Episode 24

If there’s a hill nearby, it is undoubtedly the haven for a lonely child.

Edith clearly remembered a passage she’d read long ago as a child, tucked away in the corner of a library—a memory that had outlasted even the book’s title.

‘Hmm, it should be around here…’

Ascending a hill overlooking the orphanage, Edith soon spotted a towering oak tree.

The enormous tree, with its elongated leaves and clusters of tiny acorns, stretched out its thick and low-hanging branches—perfect for a lonely child to climb.

There it is. Without hesitation, Edith glided across the lush green grass toward the tree.

“Hello?”

“…..”

The two dangling feet hidden amidst the dense foliage abruptly froze at her greeting. Edith asked again.

“You’re Finn, right?”

She could almost hear the boy debating whether to run or stay. Suppressing a small laugh, Edith waited.

Fortunately, Finn chose not to flee. Sliding down from the sturdy branch as though descending a rope, he landed squarely in front of her.

“They say you’re a duchess. Got a lot of free time or something?”

“Plenty of it. Between you and me, I’m also very rich.”

Edith grinned and plopped herself against the tree trunk. Finn, scowling as he stared at her, asked in disbelief,

Is it really okay for a duchess to sit just anywhere?”

“As long as you keep it a secret, no one will find out.”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets, though.”

“Good thing I brought a lot of money this time.” 

Edith replied, forming a circle with her fingers to symbolize coins. Finn snorted incredulously. After glancing around nervously, he finally gave in to her beckoning and plopped down beside her.

“Weren’t you already rich to begin with?”

“Nope. I didn’t have much before, but I came into a lot of money recently.”

“How’d you earn it?”

“Well, I recently got married and sent out invitations for a celebration party. Everyone said they’d come, but no one actually showed up. I think they felt guilty about it, so they sent loads of gifts instead?”

Edith spoke candidly, skipping over the detail that it was a contract marriage—after all, that part was confidential.

She had indeed made a considerable profit—enough to cover all her expenses for the tea party preparations. Thanks to that, she was now able to be more generous with her charitable donations.

Edith truly bore no ill feelings, and in fact, she found it all a bit amusing. Finn, however, looked perplexed as he listened more.

The boy furrowed his brow in thought before cautiously asking,

“…Doesn’t that mean you were just being ostracized?”

“Probably.”

Edith agreed easily, which only deepened Finn’s confusion.

“But why are you so fine with it?”

“Because I got some free money out of it.”

“That’s… kind of a win.”

Finn admitted, finally giving up on trying to make sense of her. He nodded, and Edith, finding his earnest reaction adorable, chuckled softly before adopting a more serious tone.

“But just so we’re clear, getting money doesn’t make it okay to hurt people.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Finn shot her an exasperated look, as if to ask why she would state something so obvious. Edith gazed at him steadily. If only such an understanding world were guaranteed.

“There are lots of foolish people out there.”

“That’s true. But I’m not one of them. I don’t even have the money to be foolish. If I did, though…”

Finn’s voice trailed off as his head lowered, and his tone grew quieter. Edith glanced at the status window floating silently above the small boy’s head.

 

 

Edith’s gaze lingered on the section describing their family background.

The young siblings, having lost their parents at an early age, must have relied solely on each other to survive. Now, Finn was truly alone, having sent Lucy away to be adopted.

“Why is the Duchess here? Did you come looking for me?” 

Finn, who had been staring at the ground, suddenly raised his head, his tone more formal now. Edith chuckled softly.

“You can speak casually, Finn.”

“How did you know I’d be here?”

In response to his question, Edith inhaled deeply and then let out a long sigh.

“When I was a child and wanted to be alone, I used to come to places like this.”

From this hill, one could see the orphanage clearly. Though it was only the back view, there were few spots with a better vantage point.

“When you want to disappear but are too scared to go too far…”

There had been times like that in her past—times when she questioned why she was living as she was and considered running away, only to be paralyzed by fear at the thought.

“And I had a younger sibling to take care of, so I never could.”

In truth, Edith could never have followed through with such thoughts, burdened as she had been by the responsibility of her sibling.

“…You had a sibling?”

“Of course! The sweetest and loveliest, most angelic one.”

“Then why didn’t you bring them here with you? Why come alone?”

“I would have loved to, but my sibling is up there.”

Edith said, pointing toward the sky. Finn froze, his gaze following her finger. He seemed to grasp her meaning.

“…You must miss them.”

“All the time. Every single day.”

Edith’s only family had passed away after a long illness. Her sibling had been so full of love for children, determined to create a world where they wouldn’t suffer, that even in their frailty, they studied tirelessly before departing too soon.

Edith had resolved to carry on their dream, pursuing the same path. 

“I’m sure you miss Lucy too.”

And now, before her stood a wounded child. How could she ignore that?

“Just like how I miss my sibling just as much.”

“…..”

The boy’s gaze fixed forward, unblinking. His expression revealed exactly what he was trying to conceal.

“I can’t let myself think about it.”

Finn swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as though he were holding something back. Edith let him take his time.

“Lucy didn’t want to go.”

 He finally admitted, his voice barely audible as the soft spring breeze swept over the grass.

“She cried and said no, even though I told her she’d have pretty clothes and plenty of good food to eat. Lucy doesn’t cry often, you know. She doesn’t even throw tantrums. But she kept insisting that she won’t go.”

“…..”

“It’s because of me. I couldn’t go with her.”

Finn, although only eleven years old, wasn’t considered young anymore by the standards of noble families looking to adopt. Lucy, on the other hand, was six—just on the edge of eligibility.

Finn must have realized instinctively that if they didn’t seize this opportunity, they might never get another.

“So I lied. I told her I was going somewhere else. That if she stayed, I wouldn’t be able to go. I…”

Finn’s voice faltered as he struggled to recount the memory. After a deep breath, he forced himself to continue.

“I thought it was for the best. How could we keep living in that cramped orphanage? The caretakers don’t have any money, and they can’t turn away kids, so there’s even less for everyone.”

Children from orphanages grew up too fast, their innocence stolen by necessity. Finn was no exception, much like Edith had been at his age.

“I don’t regret it. What’s the point of staying here? I just hope Lucy can live well. It’s better for her to have a good life, without any worries.”

Finn spoke with feigned cheerfulness, but Edith remained silent, simply listening. When no response came, Finn cast his gaze downhill, staring at the old orphanage roof. After a long pause, he spoke again.

“But Lucy said something before she left. She said she was sorry. Like she even knows what that means.”

His voice, initially carrying a wry chuckle, gradually softened until it was barely a whisper.

“Lucy said she…”

“…..”

“What if she thinks I abandoned her?”

Finally, the boy crumbled, burying his face in his knees. Edith shifted closer, just enough for their shoulders to touch. His small frame trembled beside her.

“It’s not like that, but what if that silly idiot really thinks it is…”

He was scared. The words choked out of him as his body shook with silent sobs.

Edith didn’t hug him or stroke his hair. She simply stayed by his side, offering her quiet presence until his tears ran dry, hoping the warmth of companionship would reach his heart.

“…..”

“Are you done crying?”

“I wasn’t crying. Who said I was crying?”

At some point, Finn muttered gruffly, his voice still nasally from his tears. Despite his denial, his tone lacked conviction.

“Miss.”

“Yes?”

“You’re a duchess, so you can meet other nobles, right?”

Pretending something had gotten into his eye, Finn rubbed his sleeve against the corner of it. He kept his head down, as if embarrassed, when he asked his next question.

“Of course, I can meet them.”

“Then… if you ever meet Luciana of the Menière County family, could you pass along a message for me?”

Edith recognized the name. The Menière family was one of the noble households that hadn’t attended her tea party.

That was fortunate, in a way. As nobles of the capital, they were people she was bound to encounter again.

“What should I tell her?”

When she responded readily, Finn finally looked up. His reddened eyes stood out, but Edith pretended not to notice.

“When you meet Lucy…”

Finn cupped his hands around his mouth and leaned toward Edith’s ear.

Whisper, whisper.

The boy’s heartfelt plea was something Edith engraved deeply in her heart.