Chapter 4

Speak quietly. At least the master is at the palace handling business right now, so we're lucky."

Another servant looked around cautiously, and Becky spoke in a low voice. Her tone was thick with suppressed irritation.

"Listen, I grew up getting hit by my father too. We should consider ourselves lucky to have been born into a decent family and not be scrubbing floors."

Becky's hands tightened as she spoke. Her colleague could only sigh and shake her head at the sight.

"Right. Let's just clean."

There was one person listening to all of this.

A child with a pretty face, clenching their fists with a fierce expression that didn't match their appearance—full of anger.

It was Vincent Rogato.

Being the subject of their conversation didn't feel pleasant at all.

Vincent, unable to contain his anger, was about to step forward when his legs twitched. He then quickly looked around, checking to see if that child was there.

That small child with fiery red hair tied in two pigtails hadn't left his mind for over a week.

〈If you do bad things, you'll get scolded by me.〉

Strangely enough, those words kept coming back to him.

Moreover, whenever he thought of that child, his heart pounded, his face flushed, and he would break out in a sweat for no reason. As soon as he opened his eyes, he had thoroughly searched for who that child was, but the child who had vanished like smoke couldn't be found again.

Perhaps that was why...

This frustrating feeling continued.

Even as seven-year-old Vincent quietly placed his hand over his heart with a serious expression, the servants' conversation continued.

"But I heard that child was caught?"

"Who?"

"The one who knocked out the young master."

As the topic changed, Vincent's heart—who had been eavesdropping—beat even faster. Without realizing it, he leaned his body toward the clearer sound.

"No one even saw their face properly, so how could they catch them?"

"True. Besides, the Duke doesn't seem to care much either. He'll just pretend to search and leave it at that."

Vincent's mouth fell open at this new fact he had just learned. He had clearly seen the face and described it accurately, and he'd been told they were conducting a proper search!

Children were bound to fall for adults' lies. Adults didn't realize how much of an impact that could have.

Shocked, Vincent ran straight up to his room. He even locked the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for anyone passing in the hallway.

His father, who had lied about searching, and the maids who knew the truth but hadn't told him—he hated them all.

"They're all liars. There's no one I can trust."

After confirming there was no one outside, he opened the closet door. Inside was a small backpack. Vincent took the backpack without hesitation and headed for the window.

It was a pack he had prepared whenever he made plans to escape the mansion after being beaten by his father.

Before opening the window, Vincent, with the backpack securely on his back, blew out a fierce breath and steeled his resolve.

Then, as a wound got pressed, he grimaced and let out a groan.

"Ugh!"

It was a fresh wound from last night. His personal maid had applied ointment, but there was no way it had healed already.

His father often spoke of the family's glory. Unlike the Rogato family's hereditary trait of brown hair, Vincent's ashen hair—which he had inherited from his mother—seemed to frequently displease the Duke.

〈You disgraceful wretch!〉

Just yesterday, the Duke, drunk, had summoned him late at night, recited the proud family history, and then kicked Vincent.

As Vincent coughed, unable to breathe, the Duke looked down at him with an indifferent expression.

Ever since the Duchess fled three years ago, the Duke's delusion that Vincent was the child she had conceived through an affair had been almost accepted as fact.

Recalling yesterday's events, Vincent grew even more determined. With a resolute expression, he took a step forward. In his firm face, there seemed to be a hint of inexplicable sorrow.

"The truly bad people are the ones living here. Not me."

It was his first time going out without a maid following him. An outing without an adult companion was nothing short of a grand adventure for a seven-year-old.

Where should he go to find that child? After much deliberation, Vincent decided to revisit the place where they had first met.

He had been there often enough to go alone without a maid's guidance.

'Yes. I can do everything by myself.'

But even when he arrived, there was no trace to be found. Someone had already demolished and removed the remaining wall, leaving the ground clean.

Flustered, Vincent looked around, but no adult showed interest in a troubled child. His panic was brief—he hadn't intended to ask adults for help anyway—and Vincent steeled his resolve once more.

"She disappeared suddenly, so she must have gone into one of the alleys."

In his own way, it was a logical deduction. Vincent thought it was a good thing he studied hard and headed toward the nearest alley.

Having always traveled along the bright, wide main streets, he hadn't known that alleys were dim and dark, without sunlight. And they smelled strange too.

The paths were tangled like a maze, making it hard to tell where was where.

"Hmm, did I pass by here earlier?"

Vincent muttered while looking at the ground. If he didn't talk to himself like this, he felt like he might collapse on the spot at any moment.

"I'm sure I saw that mark before..."

Looking more closely, all the marks seemed the same. Completely unaware that he was lost, Vincent walked diligently, examining only the patterns on the ground.

Then, a dark shadow fell before him. Startled by the sudden darkness, Vincent looked up.

Three boys who appeared to be in their late teens stood arrogantly blocking Vincent's path.

"Hey there, squirt."

"Let's see what's in that bag you're carrying."

"This area requires a toll, you know."

The leader's eyes sharply scanned Vincent. Shiny hair, pale white skin, delicate hands that had never done rough work.

To boys who lived hand-to-mouth, Vincent was an easy prey. A noble child with no adult attendant in sight. They didn't know which house he was from, but they felt lucky to have come across him.

'Lucky! I've been striking out lately, and now a good catch rolls in.'

Surely that precious backpack contained valuable jewels. It was obvious what thoughts a naive young master would have when playing at running away.

"What? Who are you people?"

Vincent, who had never seen anyone act violently toward him except his father, wasn't afraid of these ragged boys before him. At Vincent's defiant posture, the leader boy laughed in disbelief.

"Boys, grab him."

At the command, the two boys beside the leader immediately seized Vincent's arms. Suddenly restrained, Vincent's eyes widened in surprise as he tried to pull his arms free, but there was no way he could overpower boys who were practically adult-sized.

"Ugh! Let go! Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, I know."

The leader boy said as he skillfully loosened the securely tied backpack.

"A little brat whose only claim to fame is his family name."

At the mocking words, Vincent's expression hardened.

"What, does that hit a nerve? You nobles are all useless lot..."

The leader boy, grinning at Vincent's expression and rambling on, froze when he checked the contents of the backpack.

"What is this?"

That was when.

WHOOOOSH—.

Suddenly, an ominous gust of wind blew through the alley. Vincent and all those surrounding him staggered from the sudden blast.

Naturally, Vincent's arms regained their freedom.

"Ugh! What was that?"

"What a wind!"

As the wind subsided—

"I told you, if you do bad things, you'll get scolded, didn't I?"

A small voice came from the direction the wind had blown from. A dry, matter-of-fact voice that seemed to have shed all moisture—yet familiar.

The owner of that voice was Adel, her fist raised, glaring ahead.

Adel surveyed the ones before her with sharp eyes. There were four opponents. No, three, excluding Vincent. Looking at the boys much larger than herself, Adel put strength into her fist.

At that moment, Vincent—who had been fidgeting anxiously, wondering if he'd get to taste her fist power again—shouted loudly.

"This time, I'm not the one who did something bad!"

Adel gave a small nod at Vincent's earnest outcry.

"I know."

At her calm response, Vincent felt relieved. He had thought something frightening was about to happen to him again.

On the other hand, the boys who had been tormenting Vincent moments ago were trembling.

Among them, the leader boy bravely stepped forward and spoke to Adel.

"There were only pillows and a blanket in that backpack! There was nothing to steal!"

"You were still trying to steal, though."