Sikar Blake slowly twitched his lips with an indifferent gaze.

“So what you said to Kian Blake wasn’t just empty talk?”

“It seems that orphanage director is strange. It’s as if he’s brainwashing the children somehow… According to Kian, that director seems like a bad person.”

“That’s a matter for the capital to handle. It’s not our business to interfere.”

“This is an opportunity for you.”

“Opportunity?”

“An opportunity to show Kian a different side of you! If you handle this well, the way Kian sees you will change.”

“Even if it changes, he’ll still say he only feels coldness from me.”

“That’s why you should come with me tomorrow. So he can realize that, despite the coldness, you’re actually warm to him.”

Sikar Blake swept his hair back with a chilly gaze.

“Here I am, already swamped dealing with Gillian’s wedding issues, and now I’m also stuck helping some brat. What a tiresome fellow.”

“I have to care—it’s because I’m his father.”

“Do you really think I’ve ever once considered myself that brat’s father?”

‘Of course not—that’s exactly why I’m emphasizing “father.”’

“You don’t have to think of yourself that way—just act like a father.”

“Fine. I’ll stop by briefly tomorrow while heading to the capital.”

Sikar Blake turned to leave after saying that, so I called out to him.

“Sikar!”

“Again, what now?”

“Is Grandmother alright…? How is she…?”

Sikar Blake wore a slightly surprised expression—as if he never imagined I’d ask such a thing.

“Are you asking about our grandmother’s wellbeing? Why?”

“Why? Isn’t it obvious? Grandmother went to the Grand Temple and hasn’t returned yet—I’m worried about how she’s doing, whether she’s alright, whether her treatment is going well.”

“Why are you worried about our grandmother? Is it because if she passes away, you’ll lose one of your allies? Is that why you’re asking?”

Perhaps it was only natural for him to react with confusion—when Sikar’s own parents passed away, no one ever showed concern for them.

We’ve never exchanged anything beyond formal greetings throughout our lives.

In that moment, I felt I wanted to teach this villain how to live a little more warmly.

“People normally exchange greetings even without ulterior motives—just like when I first met Grandmother and brought her here with no hidden agenda.”

“If you hadn’t helped our grandmother, you wouldn’t have been exposed to me. Yet now you’re worrying about her… Do you regret helping her?”

“If I hadn’t helped Grandmother that day, something terrible might have happened to her. Of course I don’t regret it. I’m simply curious about her wellbeing—as someone living together with her in this mansion. That’s all. So please, tell me—how is Grandmother?”

Sikar Blake stared at me intently, then turned his gaze away with a languid expression.

“Grandmother will return in about two weeks.”

“That’s a long time. Then I’ll prepare to welcome her back grandly as mistress of the ducal estate.”

“Planning a party, are you?”

Though he said that, Sikar seemed grateful toward me for asking after Grandmother’s health—even if, having never felt or received gratitude in his life, he likely didn’t fully understand the emotion.

“We’ll gather cozily, share old stories, knit together…”

“Knitting? Vika Lamberst will say he’d rather die, but Grandmother will surely enjoy it.”

He acted as if he himself wouldn’t knit—but I planned to ask Grandmother to make Sikar knit too.

Sikar and Vika knitting. That would be truly amusing.

“Go to sleep quickly. You need to wake up early tomorrow if we’re going to Lecador.”

For some reason, Sikar’s retreating back felt unusually warm today.

The next day. We entered the orphanage accompanied by Durion and Vika Lamberst.

Kian Blake had come along too, but it seemed better to call him only after we’d finished handling matters. Vika summoned the spirit of sleep to put Kian to rest inside the carriage, then followed us into the orphanage.

The children were utterly stunned, seeing for the first time a white-haired elf—Vika Lamberst. The director rushed out frantically, recognized Sikar Blake, and bowed deeply.

“D… Duke Blake, is that you…?!”

“Are you the director running this orphanage?”

Though Sikar had already seen everything through my memories, he confirmed once more.

“Yes, Your Grace. Though inadequate, I am indeed the one managing this orphanage.”

Sikar didn’t even meet the director’s eyes—he simply took the hand of a child standing beside him. The child jumped in surprise, so I winked at them.

“It’s alright. He’s holding your hand because you’re cute.”

The child’s expression relaxed, seeming reassured at last.

Still holding the child’s hand, Sikar paused briefly, then fixed the director with a chilling glare and spoke through gritted teeth.

“So you took back all the toys our young lord gifted to the children here yesterday.”

The director, who had been wearing a shameless expression as if completely innocent, suddenly flinched and began trembling with his tightly clenched hands.

‘Ah, so that’s it. The children didn’t feel happy receiving the gifts because they knew the director would take them back again.’

I felt a pang of bitterness as I recalled the children’s expressions from yesterday.

Sikar continued recounting yesterday’s events while gripping only the child’s arm—looking as if possessed by a ghost, which made the director tremble violently with fear.

The citizens of Lecador couldn’t imagine Sikar reading people’s memories, but at least they’d heard rumors he sees through everything—which made them even more terrified.

“Why did you take the toys back? To resell them?”

“A, ah, no! I didn’t steal the children’s gifts—I merely stored them safely!”

“I’ve learned that Lepher Orphanage received considerable donations, yet the children received no support whatsoever.”

Sikar released the child’s arm with an indifferent expression. I took the child’s arm to prevent further alarm and smiled reassuringly at them.

Sikar addressed the director with a slightly annoyed tone.

“Director.”

“Yes, yes, Your Grace.”

“What happened to all the donations you received?”

“W, what donations…? Th, there’s no such thing!”

“Don’t try to deceive me.”

Sikar’s low, resonant voice was chilling and eerie.

“I… I don’t understand what you’re saying…”

The director trembled in his limbs but still refused to speak truthfully.

When Sikar wanted to extract information from an enemy, he never touched them while they were alive—he’d end their life first, then pick up their hair to verify.

It seemed now he intended to read the director’s memories exactly that way.

‘I have to stop him!’

True to form, Sikar reached for his sword, preparing to swing it at the director. I threw myself forward and grabbed his arm—or rather, practically clung to it.

“Ah, no, Sikar!”

“Step aside.”

I pulled Sikar’s arm and whispered urgently into his ear.

“You can’t do that! The children are here! They’ll be frightened!”

“So you want me to touch that filthy human’s living skin?”

“No. There’s another way!”

I reached out and grabbed a fistful of the director’s hair. The director, yanked suddenly by me, staggered while clutching his own head.

‘I generally avoid violence, but this is better than letting him die.’

“Aaah! Duchess! Why are you doing this?!”

‘I’m trying to save you. Your crimes are detestable, but life is still precious.’

“Be quiet if you don’t want to die!”

“P, please save me! Duchess!”

‘I’m not saying I’ll kill you—I’m saying this is how you won’t die!’

I handed the clump of the director’s hair I was holding over to Sikar.

“Just grab the hair like this—it’s enough.”

Sikar didn’t immediately take the hair. When the director kept screaming loudly, Sikar struck the back of his neck with the flat of his blade, knocking him unconscious, then seized the hair.

“That works, I suppose.”

Sikar, holding the director’s hair, seemed quietly immersed in viewing memories. I sighed in relief, then began soothing the startled children.

“It’s nothing serious. His Grace just cast a brief spell. Once the magic ends and the director wakes up, His Grace will buy you delicious chocolate cake.”

At the mention of chocolate cake, the children’s eyes widened. Of course—chocolate is always best for kids.

“Wow! Chocolate cake?!”

Chocolate cake was, as expected, magnificent. The children had already forgotten the director’s collapse and were now excitedly thinking only of eating cake.

After setting down the director’s hair, Sikar immediately ordered Durion and Vika Lamberst to search the basement.

“I’m great at breaking things open!”

Durion dashed off, seeming pleased to finally stretch his limbs, but Vika Lamberst walked lazily with an annoyed expression.

“Then you go alone and search everything. I’m too tired.”

Vika Lamberst and Durion quickly returned from the basement, having found the money the director had hidden away—funds he’d steadily hoarded for his own belly instead of using for the children’s benefit.

‘It would be best for Kian to witness Sikar punishing the director—to show him Sikar also has this righteous side.’

I instructed Vika Lamberst to wake Kian from the carriage and bring him over. Kian, rubbing his half-asleep eyes as he walked, was startled to see the director kneeling like a criminal—then looked toward Sikar.

‘Yes, Kian. See Sikar scolding a bad person—and let your heart soften just a little.’

Sikar raised his sword again, aiming for the director’s chin, but then seemed to recall my warning about the children watching—he sheathed his blade instead and said,

“These are all funds diverted from donations, I presume?”

“Y… Your Grace, p, please spare me! I’ll explain everything about how I diverted the money… Please…”

“I don’t care why you stole the money or whether you live or die. The capital guard will arrive soon—tell them yourself.”

“Please, just this once, show mercy, Your Grace! I’ll confess everything truthfully and return all the money!”

When his hidden money was exposed, the director seemed deflated—he even confessed every additional crime, begging desperately not to be handed over to the guards. But Sikar, showing not the slightest interest, handed the director over to the capital guard.

“The remaining matters will be handled by the capital guard. Let’s leave now.”

“Ah, no. Look at the children.”

I grabbed Sikar’s arm. The perceptive Sikar immediately realized all the children’s gazes were fixed on him.

“Why are the children staring only at me?”

“Well…”

Before I could explain, Sikar grabbed my hand and narrowed his eyes.

“Did I ever say I’d buy them chocolate cake?”

I smiled awkwardly, pulled my hand free, and gave a sly grin.

“You might start wanting to buy it now.”

“I have no such thought at all.”

“Are you really not going to buy it?”

“They’re not even my subjects, nor do I know them—why should I?”

“Because the children will cry.”

“That’s none of my concern.”

“It will be your concern.”

I glanced subtly around the children. Among any group of children, there’s always at least one tremendous crybaby.

Who among them cries the most easily?

Looking around, I spotted one child who seemed ready to burst into tears at the slightest provocation.

I felt a little guilty about making children cry—but if crying once means getting chocolate cake, it’s not so bad.

I approached the child who looked most likely to cry and told them they wouldn’t get chocolate cake today.

“Why, why not?”

I looked at the child with an infinitely sorrowful expression, letting my eyebrows droop.

“I’m sorry…”

Just as expected—the child, who’d built up great anticipation, twitched their lips and immediately burst into loud sobs.

“We can’t eat chocolate cake…! Waaah…!”

Good. Crying very bravely indeed.

Soon, one child’s crying instantly spread to the others—meaning the entire orphanage soon became a sea of tears.

“Waaah…! Chocolate cake…!”

I frowned deeply, mimicking Sikar’s own tired expression.

“I’m more afraid of children crying than I am of your sword. So please, buy them the cake.”