Chapter 14
Duke Kalaroff de Gladius.
Head of the Gladius family, who lived just across the road—three minutes away by carriage, or fifteen minutes on foot.
A childhood friend of Caleo, godson of Ardores, and godfather to Soles.
“Duke!”
Soles greeted him happily.
Kalaroff bent down on one knee and raised a brow in mock offense.
“So, you’re not calling me Uncle Kalaroff anymore, huh?”
“If I do, Nini might copy me. And I’m ten now—double digits! I need to start acting a little more grown-up.”
“You’re growing up so well. Still… it makes me a little sad.”
Kalaroff tousled Soles’ hair, surprised at how much he had grown in just a short time. Then his eyes landed on Nivellia and the boy.
A faint, crooked smile touched Kalaroff’s lips.
“Nini.”
Nivellia flinched as soon as her name was called.
“You forgot me again, didn’t you?”
“……”
He hadn’t said it in an angry tone, but Nivellia shrank back even more, pulling the boy closer behind her as if to shield him.
The boy leaned in and whispered softly to her.
“He brought me here safely. He’s not a bad person.”
Nivellia’s ears perked up.
“…He helped you, Wolf?”
“Yes. He helped me.”
“But he… looks like that…?”
The way she said it made Kalaroff stifle a chuckle.
Al and Rubens jumped in to help their father’s image.
“Nini, sure—he looks like the kind of guy who beats people up. But he’s actually a really cool grown-up. And super rich.”
“He’s our dad—mine and Al’s. You can trust him.”
Thanks to their reassurance, Nivellia finally lowered her guard a bit and stepped forward.
Kalaroff extended his hand.
Nivellia threw out scissors.
“Nini wins!”
“…No, I meant give me your hand.”
Kalaroff chuckled as he gently took her hand and placed a light kiss on the back of it.
“It’s an honor to see you again, Lady Dei Amore.”
“That is so,” she replied with a noble nod.
“Oh dear, it seems our young lady has much to learn.”
“Nini’s going to study now! I even studied letters earlier today!”
Right? She looked at her brothers for backup.
Al and Rubens both nodded with grins.
“She did. We were in the library reading the dictionary together. She learned at least one word, so that counts.”
“We helped pick out a name for him. She can’t read yet.”
“This is what she wrote.”
Soles pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Kalaroff.
Kalaroff unfolded it to reveal something that looked far more like abstract art than handwriting.
Still, thanks to his experience raising kids, he was able to recognize it almost instantly.
“Aref?”
“Aref!” Nivellia exclaimed proudly.
“Wolf’s name!”
“You gave him a name?”
Just then, the parlor doors swung open.
“Having fun, little ones?”
Muniel stepped in, wearing her usual calm and gentle expression as she addressed the children. But her eyes quickly found their way to the two small hands held tightly together—Nivellia and Aref.
Kalaroff gave her a concerned glance, but Muniel answered it with a soft smile, as if to say, Don’t worry.
“Well, let’s see—has our Nini been taking good care of the little wolf?”
“I’m doing great!”
“And did you greet Uncle Kalaroff properly this time? Were you polite?”
“I was full of politeness.”
Kalaroff decided it was best not to comment.
“Grandma, we just gave him a name,” Soles said quickly.
He gave the boy a little nudge—not hard, just enough encouragement to speak.
The boy opened his mouth.
“My name is Aref.”
“So you took the name from Sir Ardores’s wolf,” Kalaroff said, speaking to the boy directly.
“That wolf, the one who fought by Ardores’s side when he helped wipe out the monsters long ago, had golden fur and red eyes—just like you. Grow strong and brave like him.”
The boy nodded eagerly.
“So you ended up choosing that name after all,” Muniel said with a soft smile, as if she’d expected it all along.
“It suits you perfectly.”
Now officially named Aref, the boy spoke in a shy, quiet voice.
“…I like it too.”
Aref.
The Golden Wolf.
The moment he heard the name, Aref felt a strange certainty—it had always been his.
“That name belongs to the wolf,” Nivellia said, lightly tapping her head against Aref’s arm.
Everyone assumed she meant the legendary wolf who once fought beside the holy knight Ardores.
But to Aref… her voice sounded different.
It was as if she had said, That name was always meant for you.
“…Yeah.”
Aref gently tightened his hand around hers.
He wanted to become someone truly worthy of that name—and fast.
Later…
“I’ll send Al and Rubens home before dinner,” said Muniel as she walked Kalaroff out to his carriage.
Just before he climbed aboard, she handed him a small folded note.
“Read it. Then burn it.”
“……”
“And this,” she said, placing her hand lightly atop his head, “is my blessing.”
As if it were routine, Kalaroff kneeled and respectfully closed his eyes.
A soft white light fell like snow onto his dark hair. The glow swept gently across his body before slowly absorbing into him.
“How do you feel?” Muniel asked, withdrawing her hand.
“Lighter. I must’ve been more tired than I realized.”
“Was it really fatigue?” she said with a knowing smile.
“Are you saying it’s just old age?”
“Take care now.”
Muniel personally closed the carriage door and stood watching until it rolled out of sight.
The De Gladius estate wasn’t far—just a short carriage ride away.
Brief, but long enough to read a note and think.
Inside the carriage, Kalaroff unfolded the slip of paper.
“…?”
A rare crack formed on the duke’s normally composed face.
“Wasn’t it you who said there’s proof of embezzlement behind the painting?”
Embezzlement?
Kalaroff could answer that with a clear conscience:
The House of De Gladius has never stolen a single coin.
That was thanks to the ironclad teachings of Muniel and Ardores, who had raised him.
“Any action that betrays your conscience will one day come for you—
tightening around your throat when you least expect it,
crumbling the ground beneath your feet.”
He had carried their words with him since childhood.
Which meant this message wasn’t aimed at him.
Then whose embezzlement is it?
With his thoughts tangled, Kalaroff arrived home and headed straight for his office. Something told him he needed to burn the note immediately.
“Welcome home, sir.”
The head maid, passing by, spotted him and offered a polite bow.
He gave a small nod, then asked, “Where’s the child?”
“You mean Miss Rima?”
He immediately noticed the warmth in her tone.
“She’s probably reading in her room. Young Master Rubens lent her some books yesterday—he thought she might get bored.”
The maid, clearly fond of Rima, continued without being asked.
“She’s a sweet and diligent child. You should’ve heard her—she said she wants to be of help to you, sir, for taking her in.”
“……”
“She really wanted to play with the young masters, but said she wasn’t in a position to join them… and gave a sad little smile. It honestly broke my hea—”
“Wait,” Kalaroff interrupted.
“You said… books?”
He suddenly remembered what Rubens had told him earlier:
“We helped him choose a name. He can’t read yet.”
The maid, surprised by his sharp tone, still answered calmly.
“Yes. Miss Rima is reading right now. She’s very young, but she already knows how. It’s quite impressive.”
“……”
“Sir?”
“…It’s nothing. I suppose I should start looking into a tutor.”
“She’ll shine quickly once she starts learning, I’m sure of it.”
Kalaroff reached his office faster than usual. Without hesitation, he lit a candle and brought the note to the flame.
The message from Muniel crumbled into ash before his crimson eyes.
Am I overreacting? he wondered.
Not every child from an orphanage is illiterate, after all.
But how would she have learned to read in a place like that?
The children in that orphanage had looked like they might starve any day—how could they have been taught to read? Even Aref, who was a year older than Rima, couldn’t read yet and needed help from the other children.
Knock knock.
“Um…”
Lost in thought, Kalaroff turned toward the sound at the door.
“Is the Duke in? It’s me—Rima.”
“Come in.”
The door creaked open, accompanied by a bit of a struggle. Rima had to stand on tiptoe to get it open, then wiped her forehead with a dramatic sweep of her arm.
She walked over to him, beaming.
“Hello, Duke!”
“What brings you here?”
The question came out gruffer than Kalaroff had intended.
He realized it too late, but Rima didn’t seem to mind at all.
“I heard you got back, so I came to say hi!”
“You didn’t have to trouble yourself.”
“But you’re helping me, right? Hehe… thank you very much!”
“……”
Kalaroff silently observed her as she bowed politely.
She had changed completely overnight.
She still wore the same worn clothes, and her frame was still small and thin—but her face was bright now. Her violet eyes sparkled with life, full of energy and awareness.
But Kalaroff’s mind turned to something else entirely.
…Is there something wrong with her tongue?
Even young Nini—and Aref, who came from the same orphanage—didn’t have such unclear pronunciation.
I should probably have a physician take a look.
As he thought that, Rima suddenly asked,
“Duke, do you know what happened to the orphanage I was at?”
“What about the orphanage?”
“Well, actually… it’s a really, really bad place!”
Rima wrung her small hands nervously in front of her chest.
“I—I once saw the teachers hiding something behind a picture frame…”
“Behind a frame?”
“I overheard them whispering something… I think it was called… embezzling? Em…bezzle…ment?”
Kalaroff’s red eyes, which had been fixed on the girl, shifted to the faint pile of ashes beneath the candle on his desk.
“Wasn’t it you who said there’s proof of embezzlement behind the painting?”
He turned back to Rima.
“Do… do you think that might be enough to get the teachers in trouble?”
