Not just me, but all my siblings. The palace often engaged in charitable activities to win public favor. Sometimes this involved simple donations, sometimes it meant offering tax reductions for some time.

To cultivate an image of caring for the people, they would send the young princes and princesses to participate in charitable activities. But since royals couldn’t just go out on their own, several organizations were set up specifically for this purpose – they couldn’t just be sent to regular charities.

That’s exactly what the Palace-run National Orphanage was. It was a nominal orphanage set up for a show. Even the idea of volunteering was a facade – what could young children really do there? It was just an event where they could show their faces a few times. The mere fact that royalty had visited a commoner’s orphanage was enough to win public praise.

“Who are these filthy little children?”

Riog openly ignored the children.

“I think there’s a strange smell. Why did Father send us to a place like this…?”

The young princesses wrinkled their noses and covered their faces.

“Everyone, just carry on. This is something all royals do at least once.”

“Didn’t Father volunteer here when he was young?”

Bapharos, who had aspired to the throne from an early age, acted maturely, aware of the eyes upon him.

Although it was called the National Orphanage, it was simply a place for the Royals to maintain a favorable public image.

The place itself was clean, but the children all had hollow eyes. It was likely that the nobleman in charge of the orphanage had embezzled funds and neglected the children.

“…so he was from there.”

If that were the case, it would explain why Zetak reacted the way he did when he became my servant. He must have recognized me. But would seeing my face just once really be enough to cause such a reaction? Or was there something else I had forgotten?

“Can you leave here?”

A young voice echoed in a corner of my mind. It was a child’s voice that sounded familiar. If Zetak had been much younger, wouldn’t it have sounded like this?

“Ah… Shall I call you Your Highness? Is that your name?”

I remembered the lightweight on my back. I recalled the thin, fragile arms wrapped around my neck as if they might break. The labored breaths, sounding like they were about to give out, tickled my ears. So that was what it was.

“No, I’m just a title.”

“I see… Then what should I call you?”

“Just call me by my name. Even if you know my name, you won’t be able to use it freely.”

“…It’s okay if I can’t call you… Just tell me. I promise I won’t…”

“I will never forget. I won’t forget even if I die.”

The voice sounded incredibly strained. The body was in such a weakened state that it wouldn’t have been surprising if it had died soon. It must have been in the dark basement of the orphanage.

“Your Highness?”

Just as something was about to surface in my mind, Karial’s voice cut me off. I had almost grasped a clue, but as soon as the memory slipped away, it sank back into the depths. I was sure that something was trying to come back to me – something important.

“You mentioned that Zetak came from an orphanage. Do you know the name of it?”

“It was probably the national orphanage in District 12,” Karial replied. “I don’t remember the exact name, but it might be in the records at the Administration Palace.”

“If you want to find out, you’ll have to check the records yourself,” she added with a smile. It was clear that she wanted me to check Zetak’s entry records. But even without her hint, I had already decided to look through the documents myself to confirm something.

I had a lingering suspicion that Zetak and I had crossed paths before he became my servant. However, I never pursued the thought, believing that uncovering the truth now wouldn’t change anything. But then…

“Will we be able to meet again?”

The image of a small child lying in bed, being treated by a priest, flickered in my mind. I couldn’t be sure if the child was really Zetak – it was a memory from my own childhood. The memory was old and fragmented, blurred by more than a decade of forgetting, its details shrouded in mist.

“That would be impossible. I must return to the palace.”

“The palace… Will I be able to meet you there?”

It was impossible. The palace walls were far too high for an orphan to gain easy access. Even if a nobleman noticed him and recommended him, the chances of crossing paths with me in the vastness of the palace were slim. But then…

“Yes. It might be possible to meet again.”

I realised I had said those words without thinking as tears welled up in my eyes. There was an unusual weight in the thin fingers that held my hand, though I told myself it was just my imagination. I remembered turning away with that thought in my head.

“I will meet you, Your Highness… I will, no matter what.”

I remembered the child behind me murmuring those words. Was that child Zetak? The one who had been so thin and frail, like a withered twig? What had happened to him? Where had I found him?

In the basement of the orphanage. Yes, I remembered that much. But I couldn’t remember what had led me down there, or exactly where I had found the child.

I remembered carrying the child up the long, winding staircase, but beyond that the details were elusive. I had no memory of why I had gone to the basement in the first place, or what I had been looking for.

A necklace. Some fragmented images appeared briefly, only to fade again. A collar – for a dog. An iron chain around the child’s neck. An empty food bowl. Bodies of those who had died of hunger. And the child, as dry and withered as a twig.

Yes, that was probably why I saved the child. Hunger. The hunger that had brought him to the brink of death. I knew that pain only too well – the memory of swallowing mud just to survive the unbearable hunger was the most horrible and agonising part of my past life.

Perhaps I saw a reflection of my past self in that child. I couldn’t remember why I went to the basement, but there would have been no other reason to save him.

If the child was really Zetak, why didn’t he tell me when we met again? He spent four years by my side. If he wanted to say something, he could have done so at any time.

“I will meet you, Your Highness… I will, definitely.”

The child’s voice echoed in my ears, lingering like a distant whisper.

“Why did you treat that child so special, Your Highness?”

Karial’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

Special. Perhaps it was true. I knew I had shown him more kindness and leniency than others, but when pressed for a reason, I couldn’t find the words to explain it. It was a mystery even to me. Why had I been so lenient with Zetak?

“I heard that child tried to kill you. That’s why you let him go,” Karial continued.

No. That was just a false accusation I made to satisfy my curiosity. Did I care for him? I had asked myself that question long ago. Five years ago I came to the conclusion that I did not. I felt nothing, even as I watched him writhe in pain.

Do I care about Zetak? I asked myself again, but there was no clear answer. Looking back, I had undoubtedly been unusually generous to him. Even when he hurt me, threw hot water in my face while claiming it was an accident, and boldly insisted it was just a misunderstanding, I let it go.

If I caused him pain again, would I feel anything this time? I wondered. Pulling out his nails, burning his body. And then…

“…what is this?”

I murmured, a strange tightening in my stomach. Was I feeling nauseous?

Karial’s voice interrupted my thoughts again.

“He must hold a deep grudge against you after what you’ve done to him, Your Highness. Isn’t it dangerous to have him around? Especially with your right arm…”

Her eyes, as she glanced at my right arm, were filled with sympathy. At first glance, Karial didn’t seem to harbor any malice; instead, there was a kind of affection in her gaze that almost resembled admiration. Still, Zetak would not have spoken carelessly – there had to be a reason behind his words.

“It’s enough that I’m well,” I said curtly. “You don’t need to worry about my arm, so stay out of it.”

“Even though you say that, I can’t help but worry. The thought of living with that boy keeps me awake at night,” she replied, her tone serious.

There was no attempt to hide her affection for me, which made me feel uneasy. None of the nobles had ever shown me any kindness. More often than not, they ridiculed me for my lack of humanity. So what was there to like about me?

“Why do you like me so much?”

Perhaps my question had been too direct, as Karial looked startled for a moment. But she quickly regained her composure, her smile now almost joyful.

“No matter how much I hung around, you never paid any attention to me… Have you finally shown the slightest interest?”

In truth, my curiosity was focused on her connection to Zetak. But I decided not to mention it, not wanting to spoil her mood. If I aroused her excitement, she might inadvertently reveal something. Karial’s smile had a dreamy quality as she continued.

“You may not remember, but you helped me when I was young. I got lost in the garden when I was visiting the palace.”

“Is that when you met me?”

“Yes. You took me to the central hall when you found me crying.”

Did that happen? I tried to recall the memory, but nothing came to mind. It was probably such a trivial event that it hadn’t stuck in my mind. Although she noticed that I couldn’t remember, she smiled.