TMBS 19💖

• Chapter 19: A Kind Soul

That evening, after finishing her daily duties and returning home, Adele stepped out of the bath, freshly washed.

At dawn, when the sun was up, she had to walk Lily and practice her aim on horseback without wavering. So unless something urgent came up, she always went to bed early.

That meant her evenings were short, and she had to move quickly to get everything done—laundry, organizing paperwork, and the like.

Naturally, all of that began with filling her empty stomach. Adele headed toward the small kitchen adjoining her modest sitting room.

She pulled out a cheap loaf of rye bread from the brown paper bag she’d brought home. Nearby, a few apples lay in a basket—gifts from her neighbor Anna, left the day before.

Tearing off a piece of the tough rye bread and chewing it slowly, she bit into an apple instead of drinking water.

Crunch.

Munch, munch.

“Delicious,” she mumbled.

It was, in fact, a good apple.

But truthfully, even if it hadn’t been, it would’ve tasted good to Adele.

Apples were always delicious to her. Not just this one—all apples. That was simply how it was for her.

For Adele, food was about impression as much as taste. Apples, to her, were fragrant, sweet, and tangy delights. As long as one didn’t taste dry and fibrous like a beet, it was good enough.

She suddenly recalled the moment when her lasting impression of apples had been formed.

It was a vivid memory.

That’s when apples became her favorite fruit—flavored not only with sweetness, but with sadness, pain, and an overwhelming will to survive.

Even now, whenever she ate a truly good apple, her chest would tighten. Just like back then. Just like now.

She was just a child.

Summer, wandering with her younger siblings, had temporarily settled in a village where she helped with chores for households that had a bit more to spare. But when a series of poor harvests struck, even those homes had little left for a street child.

The core problem with Summer’s nomadic life was that she couldn’t find stable work as a maid in a wealthy household. Her distinct pink eyes made her stand out too much—so much so that the stewards of large estates refused to hire her.

They didn’t want a girl who drew attention. No matter how persistently she begged, they always ended up turning her away. To them, she was a child destined to cause trouble. Their unease stemmed from past experiences.

So that year, Summer couldn’t gather enough food through honest work alone. She was old enough that this was the first time she’d faced such a dire situation. In the end, she had no choice but to take odd jobs from unsavory characters.

To avoid having her siblings be judged by the villagers, she went over the mountain to a neighboring town—there, she lingered around the delinquents, looking for work.

She was only ten at the time.

“Hey kid. You can handle this, right?”

“You really just want me to knock over their baskets?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“And you’ll really give me five shillings?”

“Course. You think we’re lying?”

Dark shadows laughed from the mouth of a narrow alley.

Standing before them, Summer followed their pointing fingers toward a group of noblemen and their servants—shopping together with armfuls of goods, both men and women.

Among them were uniformed guards clearly there to protect the young noble and his entourage. She could already tell—if she caused a scene, she’d get beaten badly.

But five shillings…

She needed that money. Her siblings hadn’t eaten properly since yesterday.

So even this absurd task was something Summer had no choice but to do.

“All of their baskets?”

“Exactly. That’s why it’s five shillings.”

“You promise?”

“You think we’re just messing with you?!”

One of the rough men shouted angrily, but Summer didn’t flinch. She merely nodded. Their eyes raked over her, surprised by her boldness.

She turned away. Emerging from the shadows of the alley, she spotted the group growing more distant.

Memorizing the position of each basket, she closed her eyes. Then, without hesitation, she ran.

It happened in an instant—Summer threw herself into the crowd, bumping and tumbling into people. Several baskets dropped, spilling their contents—expensive produce and packaged goods—across the street.

“What in the world—?!”

“Hey! You little brat!”

Just as expected, the uniformed guards rushed in to seize her. But Summer pressed herself flat against the ground first.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Are you all right? I’m sorry, a dog was chasing me—I’m terrified of dogs!”

Conveniently, a large dog she had bumped into earlier was now barking furiously in her direction.

Still covered in dirt, she clung to the ground, bowing apologetically. But her head remained stiffly raised, bobbing unnaturally. As if she couldn’t see who she was talking to.

“What, are you blind?”

“Yes. I’m really sorry. Did I hurt anyone? But the dog—it’s gone now, right? Right?”

She trembled, pretending to be frightened.

Of course, it was all an act. She was mimicking a blind child she had once observed—a pitiful yet oddly shameless little one.

The guards who had tried to grab her hesitated. They, too, likely felt that same odd pang of pity she once had.

“I’m so sorry. Truly sorry.”

Summer pressed her palms together and bowed again and again. Then, she groped along the ground. Her small, scraped fingers brushed over scattered vegetables, meat packages, and fruit.

“I’ll clean it up! I can pick everything up. Please just wait a moment. I’m really sorry.”

As she scrambled to gather the fallen goods, her act started to work. The grumbling around her died down. It was hard to blame a poor blind child, even if she’d caused a mess.

Just then, someone pushed through the gathered crowd.

“What’s going on?”

“Young master, it’s just that—”

“It’s a kid.”

His voice dripped with annoyance, and Summer couldn’t help feeling slightly incredulous.

He wasn’t much bigger than she was, and yet he declared, “It’s a kid,” as if he were a grown man. It was oddly funny.

Even so, the boy listened carefully to the explanations. After taking it in, he responded decisively.

“We can just buy more. Let’s go.”

Adele found herself surprised. That arrogant-sounding voice now seemed… kind. Had she misjudged him?

Maybe he was unexpectedly compassionate.

“Young master, but those were—”

“It’s fine. We’re not going to demand compensation from a child, are we?”

His voice—young as he was—carried a poised, commanding grace unlike any noble Adele had ever met.

Summer tried to recall his face, but she’d been too focused on baskets and guards to notice much about him.

Then came the sound of someone approaching. She had a feeling—it had to be him.

The boy knelt beside her in the dirt and took two apples from an intact basket, gently pressing them into her arms.

“Y-Young master!” someone exclaimed in protest.

But the boy’s hand did not waver. Summer, startled, accepted the apples instinctively.

Should she say thank you? She wasn’t sure—it felt unfamiliar.

Before she could decide, he turned and walked away without hesitation.

“Let’s go.”

At that simple command, the entire group moved like a single organism. Summer quickly stood and bowed in his general direction.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Then, as if something clicked in her mind, she pushed past the crowd, rushing toward him.

She faked a limp, pretending she’d hurt her leg in the fall. As she staggered forward, she bumped into more baskets—spilling even the untouched ones.

“Unbelievable!”

One man grabbed her roughly by the collar.

“Enough,” came that same calm, commanding voice once more.

He had saved her again.

Summer groped forward and managed to stand before him.

“You’re a good person. May you be blessed. Thank you… truly.”

Eyes still closed, she bowed deeply again and again, the apples cradled tightly in her arms.

Then, from her ragged sleeve, she pulled something out and offered it to the boy.

He looked down at what was placed in his rough palm—and let out a small, amused laugh.

To be continued…