Surprisingly, it wasn’t the blue-haired girl who spoke first.
The elf prince’s crimson eyes locked onto her, his grip tightening around the crate of cleaning supplies. The girl’s brows furrowed slightly before her own gasp of recognition escaped. "You—!"
I knew I should have expected something ... I barely resisted the urge to facepalm.
At that exact moment, the basket of herbs tumbled from her hands, scattering leaves and flowers across the dirt path. Her azure eyes burned with indignation as she pointed an accusing finger at Nolan. "You’re that rude, arrogant—"
Nolan’s lips curled. "Ah. I remember now, you are the umbrella girl."
"Umbrella girl?!" she spluttered, her cheeks flushing pink. "I offer you shelter from the rain, and that’s what you call me?!"
The twins glanced at each other, their expressions shifting from confusion to dawning amusement. Mira muffled a giggle behind her hand. Miss Talien simply crossed her arms, watching the scene unfold with quiet interest.
I cleared my throat and asked obliviously. "You two... know each other?"
The girl huffed, crossing her arms. "Unfortunately."
Nolan smirked. "She insisted on sharing her pitiful little umbrella—as if I’d ever—"
"I was being kind!" she snapped. "Something you clearly know nothing about!"
A tense silence fell over the courtyard. Even the birds seemed to pause their chirping.
I tensed, sensing the echoes of many small lives stirring inside the orphanage—children waking, footsteps pattering toward the door. This confrontation was about to have an audience.
Just as I stepped forward to intervene, Miss Talien caught my arm. Her gaze was gentle and reassuring. Then—
"Now, now," she clapped her hands together, her voice effortlessly cutting through the tension. "Let’s not fight. The children are coming." She turned to the girl, her tone softening.
"Shaela, please help these young benefactors with their work."
Shaela. So that was her name.
The girl—Shaela—hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, with a reluctant nod, she cast one last glance in my direction (why me?) before turning toward the orphanage doors.
"Everyone," she called, her voice shifting into something warmer, "they’re here!"
All eyes turned toward the orphanage building as the doors burst open. Children spilled out into the courtyard like a colorful tide—some rubbing sleep from their eyes, others already bouncing with energy. But the moment they heard Shaela’s call and spotted us, their drowsiness vanished.
The little ones led the charge, their small feet kicking up dust as they raced toward us.
"Big Bwother Aman!" a chorus of voices cried out, using the nickname they’d given me months ago.
I couldn’t help but smile, waving at them.
They really like me, I thought with a flicker of pride, but my lips twitched when I noticed nearly half of them—mostly the boys—veering sharply toward the toy boxes instead of me.
Miss Talien chuckled beside me. "Sorry about them," she said, shaking her head. "I’ll teach them better manners."
I waved her off, already crouching to open the toy boxes. "Don’t worry about it, Miss Talien. They’re just kids, after all."
"Lina, here’s your doll—careful, don’t drag the dress on the ground. Jace, your wooden sword is in the other box—no, you can’t have two. Milo, didn’t I promise you a puzzle last time? Here. Don, I already gave you one!"
Miss Talien watched for a moment before wading into the chaos, gently steering overeager hands away from the girls’ dolls. "Boys, patience! The toys aren’t running away!"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the twins already surrounded by a giggling group. Mira was demonstrating how to braid ribbons into hair by showing it to one of the girls, while Lira let a toddler tug on her sleeve, fascinated by the shimmering fabric.
And then there was the alien.
He hadn’t moved an inch.
The elf prince stood frozen in place, his crate of cleaning supplies still clutched in his arms, his crimson eyes tracking the children with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher—something between bewilderment and... discomfort?
A small girl with pigtails wobbled up to him, her arms outstretched. "Bwother! Up! Up!"
Nolan stiffened as if she’d brandished a weapon.
I handed a spinning toy to one of the boys while getting ready to intervene in case the worst happens.
Nolan wrinkled his nose, looking down at the pigtailed girl like she was some strange, incomprehensible creature. His crimson eyes flickered with something unreadable—annoyance, yes, but also... hesitation?
Is he actually considering using his charm ability on her? My fingers twitched toward the dagger hidden in my sleeve.
The thought sent a cold ripple through me. Manipulating adults was one thing. But children? That would cross a line even I couldn’t ignore.
It’s better to get rid of the stain before it spreads, I thought grimly, already calculating the fastest way to neutralize him without alerting the others.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Nolan’s gaze softened—just for a fraction of a second—as the little girl grinned up at him, her front tooth missing. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, as if he was seeing not just her, but... himself?
The realization hit me like a bucket of ice water.
He sees himself in her?
I could vaguely guess - he probably has some memories resembling the current moment or girl.
As if to confirm my thoughts, he grumbled something under his breath and carefully set his crate down.
With all the reluctance of a man being forced to handle something fragile and vaguely terrifying, he scooped the girl up.
Oh? Was I really wrong about him?
I turned my attention back to distributing toys, but kept my Echo of Life attuned to Nolan’s movements. The little girl’s squeals of delight were unmistakable—he was throwing her into the air and catching her, albeit with the stiff precision of someone who’d never held a child before in his life.
"Again! Again!" the girl squealed in joy, her laughter ringing across the courtyard.
And now, the other kids had noticed.
One by one, the children who’d already claimed their toys drifted toward Nolan, their eyes wide with fascination.
"You’re really strong! Higher, higher!"
Nolan’s expression was a masterpiece of irritation, but he didn’t stop. If anything, his throws became slightly more controlled, his catches more deliberate. The children’s praises seemed to bounce off him, but he didn’t ignore them either.
Hah. You can’t escape now, Your Highness.