Chapter 106: Bwother Red and Manager-kun Save the Day
The entire orphanage stood transformed under the afternoon sun, its freshly scrubbed walls gleaming as if newly built.
The windows sparkled, the wooden floors shone, and even the rusted gate had been polished to a respectable sheen. A gentle breeze carried the scent of soap and lemon through the courtyard as everyone gathered to admire their work.
Nolan surveyed the results with a critical eye, his arms crossed. "Now it at least looks like a normal building," he declared.
Shaela opened her mouth to retort—then closed it.
As much as she hated to admit it, the insufferable prick had contributed more than anyone, working with an almost obsessive precision that left even the professional cleaners impressed. It was just his personality that grated on her nerves. Couldn’t he be normal? Like... like...
Him.
The image of a certain young man flickered through her mind—black hair, a handsome face that balanced youth and maturity, slate-gray eyes that seemed to hold depths of quiet intelligence.
The more you looked into them, the more you found yourself lost. But it was his smile she liked most—rare, subtle, but so warm when it appeared and always carrying something unspoken, as if he knew more than he let on.
Sir Amaniel.
Her cheeks heated.
His personality was just as perfect. Kind without being cloying. Responsible without being rigid. Smart without being arrogant. He noticed things others missed and helped without expecting praise. And yet, despite all that, only a few people seemed to notice him or his actions.
Alas...
She still hadn’t found the courage to talk to him properly today.
When Miss Talien had assigned her to guide him around the orphanage with a teasing smile, Shaela’s heart had leaped—only to sink again when she realized how busy he always was. Distrubuting the supplies. Organizing everyone. Even cleaning alongside the workers. Every time she mustered the nerve to approach, he was already moving on to the next task.
She’d tried small gestures—offering a towel, handing him a drink—hoping for a moment to speak. But he would just accept them with that quiet, distracted smile, thank her softly, and return to work before she could form a coherent sentence.
At one point, she even dared to think that maybe he was intentionally avoiding her, but it didn’t make sense, so she brushed it off.
Pathetic , she chided herself. You can argue with the arrogant prick, but can’t say two words to the guy you like?
"Miss Shaela?"
Her heart almost popped out of her chest.
She turned slowly, her pulse racing as she met those slate-gray eyes. Sir Amaniel stood before her, his sleeves rolled up, a faint sheen of sweat still glistening on his brow.
"Can you bring that now?" he asked. "I think it’s time."
"U-um, ah—yes!" She nodded awkwardly, her face burning, and hurried away before she could embarrass herself further.
Amaniel picked up the ladder he had set aside earlier, positioning it carefully beneath the orphanage’s sign. The rusted metal creaked slightly as he steadied it, his grip firm.
A few moments later, Shaela returned, carrying a small wooden box. Her fingers were trembling slightly as she handed it to him.
"Thank you," Amaniel said, his voice warm but distracted as he flipped open the lid. Inside lay a large, carefully crafted metal letter—the missing piece from the orphanage’s sign.
He turned to Nolan, holding it out. "Honorary Custodian, this is the final step."
Nolan took the letter, examining it with a critical eye. The craftsmanship was impeccable—the edges smooth, the metal polished to a mirror shine. He hadn’t even mentioned the missing letter, yet the manager had prepared for it anyway.
Hmph. Not entirely incompetent, then.
With a flick of his cloak, Nolan ascended the ladder, his movements graceful despite the rickety structure beneath him. The children watched in awe as he carefully slotted the letter into place, completing the orphanage’s name at last.
Stepping back, Nolan surveyed his work with a satisfied nod. "Now it’s better."
The manager seemed to understand what it means to be perfect as well—no detail overlooked, no flaw left unaddressed. Perhaps... his brother had been right about him?
Well, whatever. I completed my promise. Now I can return to Brother.
As he descended, his gaze drifted across the courtyard. Amaniel was paying the hired workers, his voice low and sincere as he thanked each of them.
The children, meanwhile, were staring at him and the new complete sign with wide, admiring eyes—except for the umbrella girl, whose gaze was fixed on the Manager with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher.
Something twisted in his chest—an odd, unfamiliar sensation.
He shook it away.
Irrelevant.
_____ __ _
After seeing off the hired workers, the quartet—Nolan, Amaniel, and the twins—turned to bid their farewells to the orphanage.
Miss Talien had prepared a surprise.
At her signal, all the children lined up in perfect rows and bowed deeply, their voices ringing out in unison:
"Thank you for your hard work!"
The twins immediately teared up, waving their hands frantically. "Aww, you’re all so sweet! Of course we’ll come back!"
"With more cakes next time!" Lira added, sniffing.
The children erupted in cheers.
"Promise?"
"Bring the honey tarts again!"
"And play with us more!"
Amaniel chuckled faintly, nodding first to Miss Talien, then to the other adults—the four older women who served as teachers and caretakers, the three older men (the chef, the guard, and the stern-faced arithmetic teacher who came after lunch).
His gaze lingered briefly on Shaela, who stood slightly apart, her fingers twisting in her apron. She met his eyes for just a second before looking away, her cheeks tinged pink.
Finally, he turned to Aida. The bespectacled girl adjusted her glasses solemnly.
"I promise not to read those novels again," she declared after the library tour, then added in a whisper, "As much."
Amaniel’s lips quirked. She had one week before they would get replaced.
Nolan, meanwhile, stood stiffly to the side, arms crossed. The children’s enthusiasm seemed to baffle him, though he didn’t sneer as he might have before. When that little girl with pigtails tugged at his sleeve and asked, "Will you come back too, Bwother Red?" he merely huffed.
"Maybe... If you keep your rooms clean."
The children took this as an enthusiastic yes.
As the group departed, the orphanage’s newly completed sign gleamed behind them, its letters catching the golden light of dusk.
Amaniel cast one last glance over his shoulder, committing the scene to memory—the children’s laughter, the scent of lemon soap and late autumn lingering in the air, even Shaela’s flustered wave as she lingered by the gate.
Another fragment of peace, he mused, woven into the tapestry of this life.
_____ __ _
The Knowledge Emporium stood quiet as dusk settled over the city, its usual bustle absent after the day’s closure. The twins lingered by the entrance, still gushing about the orphanage visit.
"Those kids were adorable," Mira sighed, clutching her chest.
"Next time, we’re bringing triple the desserts," Lira declared, already scribbling notes.
Amaniel nodded, handing them their wages with an extra bonus. "You both did well today. Go rest—we’ll reopen tomorrow."
The twins beamed, bowing before skipping off toward their shared apartment.
That left Nolan.
The moon elf prince stood with his usual regal poise, though his crimson eyes flickered toward the stairs—no doubt thinking of his brother. In fact, after today’s experiences, he was secretly looking forward to his brother’s daily lessons. He wanted to understand what those feelings he had.
"Honorary Custodian," Amaniel said, dipping his head slightly. "Your work today was... unexpectedly thorough."
Nolan’s lips curled. "Obviously." A pause. Then, grudgingly: "The orphanage was less detestable than expected."
High praise, coming from him.
Amaniel suppressed a smirk. "Then I’ll see you tomorrow for the usual duties."
Nolan waved a hand dismissively and strode away, his cloak flaring behind him.
The door clicked shut.
Alone at last, Amaniel exhaled, rolling his stiff shoulders. The day had been long, but the weight in his chest was lighter than before.
One problem solved, he thought, turning toward the academy gates. Next, let’s meet Emory.
Then I can finally return to the academy...