MEBS | Chapter 003

Chapter 003

Now, only one thought dominated Freya’s mind.

‘Oh, if only I could eat soup, or bread, or even a sweet to fill my stomach.’

Since she ate a bowl of porridge in the morning and went out, more than half the day had passed.

Everything before her eyes was blurry, and her mouth held a bittersweet taste.

When she saw the coins filling the tin box, greed began to creep into her.

But as soon as she recalled Sophia’s sharp eyes, she quickly suppressed her desire.

“Lottie, let’s go back.”

She carefully tucked the money into her chest and walked down the road.

When she neared the bakery, a delicious, warm, sweet aroma wafted through the air.

Her empty stomach clenched, and her mouth filled with saliva.

She tried hard to turn her face away and ignore it, but Lottie shot toward the bakery like an arrow.

“Lottie, no!”

With her sick body, Freya struggled to run after her, only to find Lottie pressed against the bakery’s glass window.

Her nose was dry and cracked, and her face bore an expression akin to a dream.

“Freya, what’s the name of that round thing filled with cream?”

Freya’s anger faded for a moment.

As soon as her eyes fell on the delicious bread, she too felt a quiet joy.

“I think that’s called a cake.”

On her birthdays, Sophia would buy one like it, put candles on it, and force the children to sing.

But she never shared that precious bread with any of the children.

As for Freya, while cleaning, she would secretly lick the cream stuck under the candles.

‘How sweet and soft it was, melting as soon as it touched my mouth.’

As Freya surrendered to the memory, a dreamy expression on her face, a shout rang out: “You beggars, won’t you get lost?”

A stout woman emerged from the bakery, holding a broom and waving it in the air. But as soon as her eyes fell on Lottie, she clicked her tongue.

“Even little children are being exploited now!”

Grumbling, she went back inside for a moment and returned with a long, glossy loaf of bread.

“It might be leftover stock, but it’s still edible.”

The woman extended the bread toward them, but Freya and Lottie, with their dirty faces, didn’t dare reach out.

“Can we really take it? We don’t have any money.”

“This bread isn’t even for sale, so it’s fine. Come back sometimes, and I’ll give you some.”

Freya took the bread, unable to utter a word of thanks, merely opening her mouth silently, but the bakery door closed in front of her.

“What do we do with this?”

The two exchanged glances and nodded.

They knew they shouldn’t, but the tantalizing aroma clouded their minds.

“Lottie, let’s get out of here first.”

They hurriedly hid in a dark alley.

Freya’s heart was pounding so hard she no longer felt her body’s pain.

“Here, take it.”

Her ragged breathing accompanied her as she pulled the bread from her chest and handed it entirely to Lottie.

Lottie hugged the long loaf, jumping with joy, then wiped her nose with her hand.

“Freya, let’s eat it together.”

She offered the bread back, and Freya took it, split it in half, and gave Lottie her share.

Her eyes were fixed solely on the bread.

When Lottie received her portion, her eyes widened, and she said in a soft voice, “Freya, my piece is bigger!”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“Hmm.”

The two devoured the bread in silence.

Its taste was completely different from the dry, moldy bread at the orphanage.

It was soft, sweet, with a delicious flavor that burst in the mouth all at once.

Their stomachs filled, but their hearts were even fuller.

“…It’s really delicious.”

They exchanged glances while eating, and for the first time that day, wide smiles spread across their faces.

“Freya, maybe I’ll make this day my birthday.”

Lottie spoke with a face brimming with joy, and Freya nodded, though she didn’t know her own birthday.

“Nice idea.”

They wanted to remember this day for a long time.

They wiped the crumbs and grease from their mouths and returned to the road.

Unconsciously, a vague melody, like a song, slipped from their lips.

They thought the day would pass without trouble, especially since they had earned a relatively large amount of money.

But upon returning, Sophia greeted them with a frozen face.

“Freya, Lottie, stand up straight.”

Their coin box was snatched from them, and Freya fell to the ground.

“What’s happening?”

She screamed, her eyes wide with panic.

She had never defied Sophia or even thought of doing so.

‘But today, I feel so wronged!’

She had done her best despite her illness, so why was she being treated like this?

“Ungrateful wretch. Is this how you repay those who raised you?”

“Aunt, we made a mistake.”

Lottie knelt, her thin hands clasped, pleading.

She didn’t understand the reason, but she knew begging was the only solution.

Soon, she burst into tears from sheer fear.

“Oh, crying children are the worst!”

Sophia shouted loudly, and Lottie’s face paled.

“Someone witnessed your betrayal of our family.”

In a corner, a boy was smirking as he watched the scene.

‘My God, they were watching us.’

“But… that bread was given to us for free by the bakery owner! That’s the truth.”

Freya raised her voice, filled with injustice.

“I don’t recall raising a child who makes excuses.”

Sophia’s gaze pierced her like a snake’s fangs.

Freya’s voice choked with fear, and before she could speak, a cold voice cut through: “You know, I never liked you from the start.”

Her eyes welled with tears.

‘What did I do wrong, Aunt?’

But all that came from her mouth was a meek voice: “Aunt, please forgive me.”

Both pleaded and cried, but Sophia had no intention of listening.

Lottie’s face was drenched with tears and snot, and seeing it, Freya’s tears overflowed even more.

‘If only this moment would pass quickly.’

All they could do was beg over and over.

“This girl is truly harsh. She never cries.”

Sophia muttered angrily.

As for Freya, she was trembling, clinging to the wall to keep from collapsing.

‘You said you hate crying children.’

And so she didn’t cry, but now she was seen as a harsh girl.

* * *

When Freya turned ten, she spoke noticeably less.

She woke up in the morning to go beg, then returned to clean.

She avoided appearing before Sophia as much as possible, and the beatings against her decreased.

‘If I can live like this, I won’t ask for more.’

Until one day, she crossed paths by chance in the hallway with Shaylo, who only visited the house once or twice a month.

His gloomy gaze made her stomach twist with intense nervousness.

“Remind me, what’s your name?”

He was drunk, reeking of alcohol, and his approach made her recoil in fear.

“My name is Freya.”

“A very beautiful name.”

Shaylo studied her neck and slender legs, then lingered long on her face with its green eyes.

“You’ll be excellent merchandise.”

His eyes gleamed with a strange glint.

* * *

That day, Freya was returning from begging, carrying an infant on her back.

<You barely look seven, so if you go out carrying a child, you’ll get more attention.>

She didn’t agree, but she couldn’t refuse.

The infant cried at first but soon grew exhausted and fell asleep on her back.

“And you, how did you end up here?”

When she was younger, she thought she lived in a house full of family.

But now she knew the truth.

Freya was an orphan, and everyone in this place was nothing but a stranger.

<I’m not in a position to pity you.>

As Sophia always said before striking her: Freya was no different from this infant.

<…An abandoned child.>

She didn’t know who her parents were or when she was born.

The only thing left to her was a note with her name pinned to her chest when she was found in swaddling clothes.

As for what her parents left her, it was her face and the rose-shaped scar on her arm.

“What’s the point of naming her if they were going to abandon her?”

She muttered bitterly as she shook the tin can.

She returned the infant to the nursery and hurried outside.

Her back was wet from carrying the child all day, clearly soiled with urine or vomit.

Since she had only one dress, she had to wash it, or she’d wear it dirty and smelly tomorrow.

‘The smell is fine, but a skin disease would be a problem.’

She recalled a girl whose leg was amputated due to neglecting her dirty, wet feet. So she quickened her pace.

After drawing water from the well, she quickly looked around.

She took off her tattered dress, revealing her frail body beneath her undergarment.

“It’s really cold.”

She shivered as she scrubbed the back of the dress with a brush and poured water over it.

“Oh, I have to put it back on.”

She wrung it out slightly and put it back on.

The cold fabric clung to her body, and her teeth chattered nonstop.

If she went inside with it dripping water, punishment was certain.

“Why did Sophia lay an expensive carpet in a rundown orphanage?”

As she hopped in place from the cold, she allowed herself a playful thought.

“This is a ballroom.”

She imagined the well as a prince and bowed to it, holding her ragged dress.

But she had never attended a fancy ball, so she couldn’t imagine more than that.

All she knew about balls was what she’d heard from Sophia when she was drunk: women in dresses and jewels flaunting their beauty.

“This doesn’t suit me.”

Her trivial game ended quickly, and she lowered her head in disappointment.