dreams spun in berries & fluff

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    Chapter 61

    “Where is this
?”

    They stood in Eglence Castle’s underground storeroom. Though no sunlight reached here, the space felt well kept, not stifling. On the walls hung, as always, the banner of House Eglence, and all around, wooden chests—double and triple‑locked—were stacked in tidy ranks.

    While Michel craned his neck, taking everything in, Kaidan selected a small wooden case. It was thin, just the size for a miniature painting, its lid handsomely carved with roses.

    He adjusted it so Michel could see and lifted the lid. Inside lay a necklace. Large and small gems caught the lamplight and scattered it in a dazzling spray.

    For a moment, Michel was overwhelmed by the flash of it. He had never seen such a sumptuous ornament. The number of stones alone was staggering, and the chain was so thick he doubted one could keep one’s head up if it were actually worn.

    “A gift—sent to you.”

    Michel’s brows shot up at the unexpected words.

    “This necklace?”

    “No.”

    Kaidan shut the box and set it back upon its original shelf.

    “Everything in this room.”

    Michel’s gaze swept the storeroom. There were more than a few chests of fine design—containers that could only house valuables. He could not even begin to imagine what lay within.

    “Everything in here
 was sent to me?”

    “Yes.”

    “By who?”

    “The list never ends. Since the announcement of a Saint, gifts have been arriving for you from across the continent, starting in the North. Plenty haven’t even been opened or moved yet.”

    Saints really are a big deal, Michel realized afresh.

    Kaidan stepped aside, as if to say: take a look. Michel hesitated, then picked a long chest without a lock—small enough to seem less daunting.

    Inside, a dagger lay on rich crimson cloth, its scabbard studded with gems.

    Is it even proper to give a priest a blade?

    Thinking exactly what Kaidan would, Michel shut the lid. No need to draw it. After sampling just one, he already feared opening the rest.

    “I thought it unmanageable to send these to the orphanage, so they’re kept here in Eglence.”

    It was the right call. If all this had gone to the orphanage, there’d have been no room to live.

    Not only that—Michel would have lain awake, guarding the hoard against thieves. Overnight, he had become rich, and it felt more bewildering than joyous.

    “Everything sent in your name is stored here. If you doubt it, I’ll draw up an inventory.”

    “No need.”

    If he meant to skim, he wouldn’t be showing Michel the vault. Michel looked over the unopened chests and sighed long.

    “What am I supposed to do with it all?”

    “It’s yours. Do with it what you wish.”

    Even so, Michel felt only daunted. He didn’t need prices to know each piece was exorbitant—why else guard them in a secret vault?

    He had paid off his debts; the orphanage’s expenses were already covered by the Duke’s donation. Living at Eglence, he had no personal costs. As for wearing such things himself—necklaces and ornaments were cumbersome, and his courage would fail at the thought of carrying such wealth.

    Should he
 give the kids an allowance?

    After thinking, he ventured an idea.

    “Let’s use what’s here to cover the costs while the orphanage stays at the castle. How about that?”

    He already felt guilty imposing like this. With so many mouths, even food would not be cheap. If he covered living costs from the “gift room,” the burden on House Eglence would ease—a happy ending for all.

    “You’ve been underestimating me for some time.”

    To Michel’s surprise, Kaidan’s face hardened at once.

    “Huh? Underestimating
 me?”

    “Yes. What lord in the world takes money from his guest?”

    “But it isn’t just one or two guests. We don’t even know how long we’ll be here
”

    “Bring a hundred more children if you wish. It will not be a problem. Be at ease.”

    Seeing true offense, Michel shut his mouth. Compared to the donation sum, housing the orphanage might indeed be pocket change to Kaidan. Still, the thought of being a freeloader sat ill.

    As Geum Jeong‑oh, he had been helped by many. Nothing in his life had been guaranteed—not school, not food, not even entering taekwondo tournaments on time; all had required others’ aid. People gave so he could “grow upright,” fine words that nonetheless made his chest tighten.

    Learning gratitude came easily when nothing was owed to him by right—but so too did anxiety: at any moment, a helping hand might withdraw. He had wanted the means to live without leaning on others—so it would be okay even if he didn’t turn grand or “remarkable.”

    Later, he learned most people did, in fact, help without demanding returns—that no one truly lived alone. And still, he felt in debt whenever help arrived.

    “No. I already pay the orphanage richly. Valois is overflowing with poorhouses to inspect. Why treat your children specially?”

    Kaidan had said it himself: the orphanage was receiving special treatment. Let fretting over the loss of goodwill be his burden alone.

    “Then
 what about rental fees for space?”

    “What?”

    “We have lessons we hold at the orphanage. We need a place where the kids can run and shout. If the training yard isn’t in use by the knights, could we borrow it
 for a fee?”

    Michel searched for another way to offload the vault. And he did want to restart taekwondo classes soon.

    He expected an easy yes—but Kaidan’s eyes only frosted further.

    “Use any space in the castle. But I will not take payment.”

    “But
”

    “I’ll grant whatever you ask. But don’t you dare try to put a single coin in my hand.”

    Michel couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a plea. The tone sent chills; the meaning was almost tender. Grant whatever he asked? It sounded dangerously like I’d pick you the stars.

    “Are you
 dying of some disease?”

    “What?”

    “It’s just—you’ve been very nice these last few days.”

    Since the naga venom, really. After that, Kaidan had grown strangely gentle—where once he’d nitpicked everything during the relief work, now he checked Michel’s condition, saw to every discomfort. Michel felt healthy enough—but such kindness had him wondering: would one not fulfill the last desires of a dying man?

    Kaidan’s face softened.

    “I told you. I’ve been discourteous. I treated you carelessly. I should not have. You are a Saint.”

    He looked away, awkward even to say it. The sincerity only deepened Michel’s confusion. What changed him? The brush with death? If so, well, it favored Michel—at least they wouldn’t be thrown out soon.

    “You’ll grant whatever I ask?”

    “Yes.”

    “Then let me train with the knight corps.”

    “No.”

    Did he just reverse himself in one second? Michel gaped. Kaidan’s face set in the old iron lines; the awkward warmth vanished like mist.

    “You said anything!”

    “
Why do you want knight training?”

    Kaidan folded his arms, as if to say: convince me. Michel lifted his chin, resolute.

    “I want to learn how to fight monsters.”

    “What?”

    “It could happen again—like that day. No matter what, I will protect my kids. To do that, I need to know how to fight monsters.”

    Since his four‑day fever, thoughts had shifted. Taekwondo was good preparation—but insufficient. This was not the safe, peaceful world he knew. Taekwondo could drive off dangerous men; it could not answer a serpent that spat venom.

    He did not like being too weak to protect. When the naga came, he had failed to protect even himself, much less Heart. Next time, they might not be so lucky.

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