CHAPTER 28
“Hmph,” Aslan huffed with a puff of air from his nose.
…So he understands everything.
Well, of course. Just because he’s a child doesn’t mean he’s unaware of what’s going on around him.
I echoed Aslan’s words.
“Aslan is right, Ayla. There’s no such thing as ‘deserving to be hit’ in the first place. They were just wrong.”
Beside me, Aslan nodded vigorously.
Id also gently released Ayla from his embrace and said,
“You didn’t get hit because you did something wrong. They were the ones who were twisted.”
Even so, Ayla still seemed to struggle to let go of her doubts and murmured softly,
“But… she was someone who cared for me like a mother…”
“What did she say to you when she hit you?” I asked.
Ayla glanced around, embarrassed, then lowered her head and spoke in a small voice.
“She said I’d picked up vulgar habits from attending another person’s class… That I needed to act with grace and refinement. She said she had to discipline me out of love…”
Unbelievable. The same cliché lines abusers always use—I heard them here too.
I replied firmly.
“She didn’t love you, Ayla.”
“But…”
I knelt in front of Ayla again.
Her sky-blue eyes, shimmering with tears, met mine.
I gently stroked her cheek and said,
“Ayla, no one has the right to hit a child. I want you to remember that and take care of yourself more. Love yourself as much as your father loves you.”
I wiped away the tears falling down Ayla’s cheeks with my hand.
And just like that—like removing the dam holding back a stream—her tears burst forth.
Ayla cried for a long time after that.
Holding the now-exhausted, sleeping Ayla in his arms, Id said to me,
“You were right. The tutor and the maid were the culprits. I’ll deal with them accordingly.”
So the names Ayla mentioned earlier—Deborah and Sasha—must have been the tutor and maid.
Id thanked me again and again before finally leaving.
As I watched the carriage grow smaller in the distance, I thought,
How could someone beat a child and claim it was “for their sake”?
The memory of a few kids I’d seen while working part-time at the kids’ café came to mind, and I instinctively held Aslan tighter.
A world where no child suffers abuse… Is that really so impossible? My heart felt heavy.
Deborah quietly returned to the estate after sending a letter.
She thought she’d slipped in quietly through the side gate, but somehow Lawrence, the head butler, was standing right there.
“Head Butler?”
“It’s rare to see you out, Miss Deborah,” Lawrence said in a low voice.
Deborah replied with a carefree smile, as if it was nothing.
“Oh, I just needed to send a letter home. By the way, has Miss Ayla returned yet?”
“Why are you looking for the young lady? As I recall, she has no lessons scheduled for today.”
Lawrence’s gaze sharpened.
It should have been intimidating, but Deborah kept talking smoothly, without missing a beat.
“She requested an extra lesson today. She’s so eager to learn—it’s almost a problem,” she said with a chuckle, as if fondly amused.
Lawrence’s eyebrows twitched briefly at her nonchalant tone.
But without a word, he gestured for her to follow.
“Come with me.”
As Deborah followed behind him, she began to feel uneasy.
Lawrence, who usually wore a pleasant expression, was suddenly icy and stern.
Did Ayla tell them everything?
No way.
As someone who spent more time with Ayla than anyone in this household, Deborah was certain—Ayla didn’t have the kind of personality to go around telling people she’d been hit.
Maybe Lawrence is just in a bad mood today.
She tried to convince herself of that as they walked.
“We’ve arrived.”
But the moment they reached the place Ayla was supposed to be, Deborah’s mind went blank.
Because Lawrence had brought her to—
“Isn’t this the viscount’s office?”
It was Lloyd’s study.
As Deborah backed away in panic, Lawrence shoved her forward, blocking any chance of escape.
“Go in. The master is expecting you.”
“W-Wait! What about the young lady?!”
Ignoring her protest, Lawrence forced her into the room.
“Ugh!”
Deborah stumbled and fell in an undignified heap.
But before she could feel the pain, a voice cold as ice pierced her ears.
“So, you’ve arrived.”
“L-Lord Viscount…”
Deborah looked around hastily.
She wasn’t the only one summoned.
“Sasha…”
“Miss Deborah…”
Ayla’s maid, Sasha, had also been dragged in.
And knights stood firmly blocking the door.
Something was seriously wrong.
Just as she realized it, the door slammed shut with a loud click.
“Do you know why I called you here?”
Lloyd asked coldly, leaning against his desk.
Even though he wasn’t normally expressive, the anger in his face was enough to send chills down her spine.
Still, Deborah knew that Lloyd’s bark was usually worse than his bite.
She casually stood up and pretended innocence.
“I’m not sure, but since you summoned both Sasha and me, it must be about Miss Ayla, no?”
“…”
Her nonchalant demeanor only intensified Lloyd’s fury.
His voice came through clenched teeth.
“My daughter had cane marks on her body.”
“…!”
Deborah flinched—but then remembered the “lady” who had her back and answered boldly.
“Yes. I disciplined her a little because she was falling behind in her studies.”
“Disciplined her?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd sneered at her shameless reply.
“So hitting a child’s back, arms, and thighs with a cane is discipline?”
His expression grew even more savage.
“And you chose only places a father wouldn’t easily check.”
If not for Minerva, he would’ve never known.
And Ayla would’ve continued suffering in silence, thinking it was her father’s will.
Maybe Deborah underestimated just how much Lloyd already knew—because her eyes darted wildly.
The sight disgusted him.
“Stop scheming. You’re not nearly clever enough.”
Deborah’s frantic eyes froze.
Lloyd didn’t even bother to sneer anymore.
“Curious how I found out about Ayla’s injuries?”
“I… I…”
“I’ll tell you. It was her new etiquette teacher who discovered them and told me.”
“…!”
The new teacher? That countryside noblewoman from the Fran Territory?
She noticed?
How?
Deborah hadn’t considered the possibility of an outsider finding out—it left her speechless.
Then the questioning turned to Sasha.
“Sasha. As Ayla’s maid, you must have noticed the bruises. Why didn’t you report them to me?”
Lloyd’s sharp gaze turned on Sasha, and she collapsed to the floor, trembling.
“I-I’m sorry! I just… I thought it would trouble you, my lord…”
“What a pathetic excuse.”
Lloyd looked down at both of them like they were vermin.
Until now, he’d thought of them as trustworthy people who looked after Ayla in his absence.
But he’d been utterly betrayed.
“Did my daughter seem that easy a target just because she’s from an orphanage?”
“N-No, never!”
“And yet you dared to abuse her?”
Abuse?! That, Deborah thought, was unfair.
She shouted,
“That’s not true! Abuse?! I was just trying to educate her—!”
“Sure, I bet you were just doing everything my mother asked of you.”
“…What?”
Deborah froze.
How does he…?
How did Lloyd know that?
As Deborah stood stunned, Lloyd continued coolly.
“But even my mother wouldn’t have ordered anyone to beat a child. At most, she wanted Ayla trained well enough to enter Povasche Academy as the top student. The hitting—that was all you.”
It was as if Lloyd knew everything.
Deborah was terrified.
Lloyd pulled a letter from his pocket and opened it.
In the letter was written:
To Lady Priscilla Mente,
Miss Ayla has once again gone to study under that rural woman. While I corrected her habits last time, I fear she may pick up more improper behavior. I’ll take swift measures.
