PLTSVA 14

The recruitment of knights and the preparation of carriages all went smoothly.

I got into the carriage where my father and Miller were seated.

Seeing them dressed up instead of the casual clothes I saw at the duke’s estate, I couldn’t help but admire how insanely good-looking the father and son were.

“Young Lady, I’ll ride in the carriage behind you.”

Garnet said that and closed the carriage door.

In the sudden silence that filled the carriage, Miller gently held my hand.

Without realizing it, my hand had been trembling. Returning to the place I had escaped from just half a day ago was no easy task.

But holding his warm and strong hand brought me some stability.

The carriage, enhanced with high-speed magic, raced forward so fast that the scenery outside the window blurred.

The distance that took Luca and me half a day to travel passed by in an instant.

We took a short break in the central province of Gesila before setting off again. Less than three hours after leaving the duke’s estate, we arrived at the edge of the Camille Forest, where the Troy Orphanage was located.

‘It was this easy? After all that suffering…’

Thinking about the hardship I’d endured, I let out a heavy sigh and looked around at the forest, lush with fresh greenery.

Though I had returned only two days later, the forest still felt unfamiliar.

Even though I had lived here for twelve years, I had no memory of ever stepping outside the orphanage, so of course the forest felt new.

The trees at the entrance of the forest were plastered with posters, possibly wanted signs or portraits of Luca and me.

It was unlikely that Cablos had informed low-ranking staff like Loyola of our true identities, and they probably left the orphanage alone knowing it was essentially a prison.

I could easily imagine how shocked Loyola must have been by the whole situation.

She used to sing daily about how Luca would be sold to some perverted nobleman and how I’d end up as the twentieth concubine of a local lord. How much more shocking must it have been for her when her golden geese escaped?

Just imagining her panic was satisfying.

Though I still didn’t know the way through the forest, Miller, who had already been here yesterday, confidently guided us to the orphanage.

I told myself I could handle it, but as soon as the orphanage came into view, it felt like I was being trapped inside again, and I could hardly breathe.

“…That’s the entrance. It connects to the director’s office, and the children will be beyond that room.”

Father nodded, then drew his sword from his waist and swung it at the door as if slicing it open.

Crash—!!

‘……What?’

What just happened? Fifteen years after reincarnation, I finally felt like I was experiencing real fantasy.

How could such a thin sword cause such destruction? The door was blown to pieces, leaving nothing intact.

“Oh my goodness! What the—?!”

Inside, Miss Loyola sat in a rocking chair reading the newspaper, just as she always did.

Her room was lavish, completely different from the rest of the orphanage.

The teacup she had been holding flew across the room from the shockwave and embedded itself in the wall.

When she saw us, she started shrieking.

“Wh-what are you people?! Do you know who owns this orphanage?! You won’t get away with this!”

Her voice filled with rage, Loyola grabbed a sword that had been hanging on the wall.

It was a massive, thick longsword, far more unwieldy than my father’s.

True to her former mercenary background, she wielded the giant blade with surprising skill as she marched toward us.

“Haaah!”

With a loud yell, she swung the sword at my father—who blocked it with ease.

It was like catching a sheet of paper. He didn’t even budge.

“We said not to kill anyone until we find the children.”

He remembered what I asked. Despite the murderous glint in his cold navy eyes, he was holding back for my sake.

Clang! Clang!

Less than three minutes after their blades clashed, the outcome was already decided.

When Father’s sword finally slashed Loyola’s side, Miller covered my eyes, so I didn’t see the strike itself—but Loyola’s scream made it clear who was overwhelmingly stronger.

‘The Mad Wolf of the North.’

Before the duchess became pregnant with Raveria, that was how people described him on the battlefield.

His swordplay was precise and efficient. Even against someone as brute and aggressive as Loyola, swinging that massive longsword, he handled her as if she were nothing.

Even in my distant past life where I learned swordsmanship, I could tell just how skilled he was.

Though it had been over ten years since he retired from the battlefield, he was still formidable.

When Miller finally lowered his hand from my eyes, Loyola was still alive—barely—slumped against the outer wall of the orphanage.

The same tyrant who always loomed over me, who made my heart sink every time I faced her, was now collapsed in front of me. The past twelve years suddenly felt hollow.

“Y-you… Ria?!”

Loyola finally recognized me as I stepped closer.

I had always worn stained clothes from caring for infants and toddlers, my hair tied tightly up. But now I stood before her in the perfect image of a noble lady, and she looked utterly confused.

“You—you brat! Where the hell have you been?! And those expensive clothes—what’s going on?!”

Even in her pitiful state, she roared at me.

“You brought them here?!”

“Yes.”

I replied coldly.

“You ungrateful wretch! Don’t you remember who fed you and gave you a roof all these years—?!”

Smack—!

Her head snapped to the side with a loud slap.

I had hit her with all my strength.

“Is that really what you think?”

I stared straight into her trembling eyes and asked firmly.

She panted, but had no response.

While I confronted Loyola, Miller and the knights were rescuing the children inside the orphanage.

I quickly scanned the group.

Terry, Paul, Darenne, Ben, Calic… Since I had cared for most of them, I could recognize them right away.

Including the toddlers and babies, there were twenty children in total. All of them made it out.

They looked both bewildered and amazed at the world they hadn’t seen in years.

“Ah? Ria unnie!”

Terry spotted me among the group.

“Y-you noble lord over there!”

Loyola suddenly shouted at my father.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! And those children! What use are those worthless brats?! They’re just leeches wasting food!”

And you dare say that—!

Smack!

I couldn’t hold back. I slapped her again, even harder. My hand throbbed from the force.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

My voice was shockingly cold—even Miller turned to check on me.

I was seething with rage.

“…What do you even know? Ben is amazing at cooking—he loves it. Darenne is gifted at calculations, she’ll make a great accountant one day. Terry knows how to care for sick children.”

I paused to breathe and continued.

She called them useless, a waste of food?

Who was the one who stomped on the potential of children with more brilliance than anyone?

Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down without my consent.

“Jake—the one you sold off as a mine slave—he dreamed of becoming a hero! And Serin unnie, with her skillful hands, always said she wanted to open her own dress shop!”

These children had every right to chase their dreams freely.

Even in this wretched orphanage, they nurtured their talents in hopes of helping each other just a little.

I grabbed Loyola by the collar and pulled her close, not breaking eye contact.

“Do you remember five-year-old Elia, who accidentally stepped on your foot?”

One day when Loyola was in a bad mood, Elia made that mistake and got on her bad side. She was scolded harshly for being “ill-mannered.”

“…Because of you…”

Elia was already frail and suffered from epilepsy. That day’s shock caused a seizure, and without timely care in the poor conditions of the orphanage, she tragically died.

Every year, on the anniversary of her death, we folded paper flowers and left them on her bed.

We couldn’t even offer real flowers, locked away like we were—so we folded them from scraps of paper.

The face I once feared now looked up at me in terror.

A single tear fell from my cheek onto Loyola’s twisted face.

“The real trash, the real leech here… is you.”