Adopt 173

Episode 173

Leo went on to explain the reasoning behind his assumption.

“That’s why I could walk freely through the Enchanted Forest.”

There are two families welcomed by the Enchanted Forest—the descendants of the First King, who created the forest, and the Valuashuten lineage, his younger brother’s house.

Leo had chosen the former.

While Leo’s expression was solemn, I had to bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.

Whether he noticed or not, Leo leaned in with a very serious face and whispered,

“And also, this is a secret, but… I might have a special talent, just like the First King.”

“…And why do you think that?”

“At the end of the academy term, I met an adult who was incredibly dazzling. They said they were searching for a child with special abilities like the First King, and, well… maybe I’m that person.”

An incredibly dazzling adult.

And the suspicious talk of the First King again.

I had a good guess as to who Leo was talking about.

It’s one of the events that trigger if you graduate top of your class or win first prize in the swordsmanship contest at the Festival of Sealing.

“By any chance, did that adult have blond hair and green eyes?”

“Oh? Yes, that’s right! You know them, Belinda?”

Did I ever.

The “dazzling adult” Leo spoke of could only be Mikhail, the one who secretly sponsors talented children while concealing his true identity.

‘His Highness the Crown Prince certainly does keep himself busy.’

Maybe it’s because he’s a real prince that he can say such embarrassing things with a straight face.

“I’ll have to check if it’s the person I know. But, Leo…”

With a teasing air, I offered a dose of reality to the boy lost in dreams every young lad might harbor.

“If you’re a descendant of the First King, that means you have royal blood. I didn’t know our Leo wanted to be a real prince.”

“Oh.”

It seemed the thought had never crossed his mind; Leo’s face went scarlet.

Apparently, to him, the First King was more an epic hero of the continent than the founder of the royal line.

As Leo shook his head desperately—insisting he didn’t want to be a prince—I couldn’t help but laugh.

Strangely, my own heart felt lighter than before.

I beckoned for Leo to come closer and began speaking calmly.

“This is a bit more realistic than you becoming a prince, Leo. Have you ever thought about your parents?”

Leo, who had begun to sidle closer to me, stopped.

He hesitated, glancing at me and rolling his eyes away from my gaze.

“…No.”

Leo looked small and subdued, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t—like thinking of his real parents was some betrayal of me.

Of course, it wasn’t.

So I gently stroked his cheek, as if wiping away whatever anxiety lingered there.

“Really? I think about your parents sometimes. I wonder what sort of people sent such an angelic child to me. What kind of people entrusted me with my little acorn?”

Perhaps emboldened by my words, Leo replied very quietly.

“Sometimes… just sometimes, I wondered what they might be like.”

“What did you imagine your parents were like, Leo?”

Leo spoke hesitantly, putting words at last to the vague ideas he’d often entertained since the orphanage.

In the child’s imagination, his parents were never ordinary people.

Monster hunters who saved lives, dungeon explorers who discovered how to clear unknown realms.

Sometimes a sailor, or a pirate who spent more time at sea than on land.

But Leo didn’t picture such parents because he wanted to be the child of someone great.

“My mom and dad must have had terribly important duties, so they just couldn’t make the time to care for me.”

“…”

“When I thought of it that way, it made being in the orphanage okay.”

It simply made sense of why he had to grow up there.

Probably it was the same reason he clung to the notion of being the First King’s descendant.

Choosing my words carefully, I began to gently correct his fantasy.

“Leo, the parents I know of weren’t monster hunters. Sorry, but they weren’t dungeon explorers, and they certainly weren’t captains or pirates.”

“…”

“But they did love you very much. That I can tell you, without a single doubt.”

“But…”

Leo’s hands, resting carelessly atop his knees, curled into tight fists.

He spoke after a long silence, lifting his head at last.

“Then why did I have to stay in the orphanage?”

With that single question, all the discussions and wisdom the adults had tried to muster seemed pointless.

In the end, it would be up to Leo how to accept the past.

And so, as his guardian, all I could do was give him a choice—and put my trust in whatever decision he made.

I gently placed my hand over Leo’s tightly clenched fist.

“Sometimes, the world brings about tragedies that are neither deserved nor preventable. Your parents found themselves swept up by such tragedy and had to leave your side.”

Unclenching his hand, I softly patted what had grown into a broad and solid palm.

“The truth about your parents might hurt you. You don’t have to know it all right now. When you feel ready—whenever that is—I’ll tell you about your real parents.”

“…”

“But what you should know now is that they cherished and loved you dearly. You were never, not even for a moment, a child without a name.”

Leo was silent for a long time.

Then, his eyes, glossy and steadfast as fresh new leaves, lifted to mine.

Without a hint of hesitation, he spoke.

“I… I want to know everything about my parents.”

“Leo…”

“If I were still in the orphanage, just knowing I was loved would have been enough. But now I have you, Belinda.”

At some point, he’d grasped my hands tight.

“So it’s all right. I’m ready.”

I took a deep breath and stood, squeezing Leo’s hands in mine.

But it wasn’t my place to tell him about his parents.

“There’s someone who knows all about them. But… he’s not so good with words, you see. Do you think you can be patient with him, Leo?”

“Yes.”

Together, we headed for the door.

There was a long road ahead of us.

So far, Leo only knew Cherry Knight as his teacher and a northern knight—so great and noble that every knight lowered their head before him, and whose real name was Cherry.

Opening the door, I gestured toward Cesare, who was waiting, unable to hide his nervousness.

“First of all, there’s something you should know about your teacher’s real identity.”

---

Clack.

With a heavy sound, the key turned and unlocked the Black Swan Chamber.

Standing before the vast, shadow-filled room, Leo took a deep breath, then followed Cesare inside.

Magical lanterns cast their glow over a room filled with gold and treasures, but Leo’s anxious eyes fixed only on Cesare’s back.

Soon, Cesare came to a halt.

Looking around, Leo saw that the wall ahead was lined with large portraits.

Cesare stepped aside and, without a word, motioned to a particular portrait of a married couple.

Even before Cesare could introduce them, Leo spoke.

“Are these my parents?”

“…Yes, they are.”

Leo stared unblinking at the figures in the painting for a long time.

Then, with a puzzled look, he tilted his head.

“I don’t think I look like them. They’re too…”

Searching for a word, he eventually whispered,

“They don’t really suit me.”

The couple in the portrait wore faint smiles, but, as with all noble portraits, an air of aristocratic dignity surrounded them.

To ease the discomfort of a child estranged from his parents’ faces, Cesare sat down carelessly beneath the portrait.

He patted the space beside him, inviting Leo to sit. Then he began to tell stories of Theodore’s childhood.

“Your father would often borrow a soldier’s uniform and sneak out over the castle walls, concealing his rank.”

“The castle walls?”

“Yes. He did it to show me the world beyond.”

In Cesare’s stories, Theodore was nothing like the awe-inspiring noble of the portrait.

Leo turned to sit facing Cesare, listening intently.

Though Cesare’s stories were sometimes disjointed and delivered with little modulation, the unwavering affection for Theodore was unmistakable.

Leo was so absorbed, he didn’t notice night falling outside the windows.

“And then? What did I do?”

“You bit your father’s finger. To be honest, I understood how you felt—my brother had a persistent little habit. Even after that bite, he never really broke it.”

Leo’s eyes grew wide at mention of biting his father and, in protest, he asked,

“What sort of habit?”

Suddenly, Cesare fell silent, considering, then glanced down at his own hand.

With care, he reached out and brushed Leo’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“This sort of habit.”

Leo flinched at the touch, rubbing his cheek where Cesare’s hand had passed.

Then, in a small, secretive voice, he murmured,

“I know this one.”

He remembered—this was just how that mysterious hand had stroked his cheek from behind the curtains that day.