He apologized—though he wasn't sure why exactly.
It was painful to see a child like this living on the streets.
He hadn't yet seen the poor districts of the kingdom;
were they truly in such a miserable state that a child like this existed?
"It's alright… would you like me to buy you something?
He asked gently, but the other didn't answer—only tightened his grip with both hands.
Thank goodness I kept some of Mariana's money with me,
he murmured to himself with an uneasy smile.
He placed the child on the table in front of him and told him to wait and choose whatever he wanted.
The boy's eyes landed on a pastry topped with white cream and pieces of chocolate.
Jinho smiled quietly and handed the money to the vendor to buy it
He sat back down, placing the boy on his lap, handed him the spoon, and told him to start eating.
The child was eager.
He looked at him with pity.
Would it be wrong of me to want to take you somewhere better?
Is there even an orphanage in Estravil?
I don't remember any small boy mentioned in the novel…
Jinho muttered, trying to recall—was there any page that referred to him?
He ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up slightly.
When he noticed the boy had finished eating, he asked:
"Can I know your name?"
The boy tensed at the question, but whispered so softly Jinho barely heard it:
"…Sohan."
He suddenly fell silent, as if he wanted to say something but backed away.
Jinho lifted his hand toward the boy's head—but the child flinched, shrinking back in fear, as if expecting to be hit.
So even kindness is something you fear… how painful.
He gently began stroking his hair, then froze as a thought struck him.
Sohan… Soho… damn it, that name is familiar.
Wait—Imperfell's son? Yes, but wasn't his name Soho?
Hold on—
Jinho stood up abruptly, lifted the boy, and started walking toward the alley he had come from.
"Where do you live?"
Sohan clutched his clothes, refusing to answer, pressing his lips shut.
"Then where did you come from? What's your real name?"
The boy trembled. He knew he had lied, but how did Jinho know?
Did that make him a wizard… a fortune teller?
Tears gathered in his eyes.
He didn't want to go back—he would be beaten if he did.
This man was, to him, kinder and gentler than anyone he had ever seen.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at Jinho, silently begging him to let him stay.
Jinho sighed softly.
"It's okay. I won't take you back now. Do you want—"
"Sohan! Mother is waiting for you!"
The moment he heard that voice, the child began to shake violently.
His face went pale, and his tears flowed freely down his neck.
When that girl called him, fear overtook him completely.
"Hey! Sir, kidnapping a child is a crime!"
She said, holding a broomstick and pointing it at him.
Jinho placed Sohan on the ground, grabbed his hand, and said sharply:
"Do you know him? Who are you exactly?"
"My name is Nayeon. He's my younger brother.
Mother is calling us, so we need to go back.
But where did you meet him?"
She didn't look like his sister at all—everything about them was different.
She was darker-skinned compared to him, with orange hair, freckles, and dark green eyes.
The only thing they shared were the bandages covering her arm and leg.
His heart wouldn't let him keep the boy.
But Sohan pulled his hand away and walked toward Nayeon.
As they moved away, the boy turned back—
there was a strange glint in his eyes.
A look and a feeling that sent a sharp sting through Jinho's lower back.
As if he were saying: I'll wait for you.
Please… come save me.
Seeing them together felt like embers thrown onto his broken heart.
He didn't particularly like children.
But he didn't hate them either
He was good with them—his married older sister constantly brought her kids to his apartment for him to look after.
He stepped away and sat down to wait for Mariana.
That dream had become something I could no longer remember any details of.
The palace had become an ordinary place—like a stage where I performed my games.
But the appearance of this boy with me, when he was meant to appear with my sister, was a problem.
The child traffickers in the west of the kingdom were supposed to take him somewhere far from the north, just as the novel described.
He was taken outside Estravil, escaped there, and met my sister who lived near the border.
She learned his story and later returned him to his parents—
who would eventually support restoring our fallen title.
A long time passed in thought until he saw them approaching, carrying several bags.
He stepped forward to help Aurora carry them—her arm looked like it might break any second.
"Where's the child? I bought him some clothes."
Mariana asked sadly, her face darkened
"His sister came to take him. Let's go back."
"…Alright."
She said, disappointed, dragging her sorrow behind her.
Jinho remained lost in thought—thinking about how to send him to his sister.
But wait—
If I return him now, it will be too early
Aurora met him at the age of ten, and now he seems younger than that.
Are the events moving forward… or what?
He was unusually silent.
"What's with those furrowed brows, Jinho? What are you thinking about?"
Aurora asked casually, though she clearly wanted to make sure he wasn't regretting leaving the child.
"That boy… Sohan."
"What—Sohan?!"
Mariana shouted, her expression shocked. They both looked at her in alarm.
"Why are you screaming? Do you know him?"
Jinho asked, trying to draw her out.
"Yes… Sohan. Do you know him? I think he's from a noble family."
"No—no, not at all. His name just resembles someone I know, but that person is older. It can't be him."
She lied—perfectly.
The shock vanished from her face, replaced by doubt and indifference.
But Jinho knew there was another secret.
They arrived at the palace at lunchtime.
Raphael, Haniel, Mariana, and Seongjin gathered to eat.
The conversation was purely political among the men,
while she drifted away in thought—thinking of Sohan.
Or, as she knew him…
Soho.
Yes. She remembered that part.
One of the reasons Jinho was accused of killing her father was his attempt to reclaim land that had been merged with theirs.
The Imperfell family had incited him—though there was no proof against them.
Arora—whom I had only seen once by chance—was responsible for him.
And he appeared younger than he was supposed to be.
Could it be that the events are advancing?
Food was not something she indulged in excessively; she ate and chewed, yet her pace was so slow that it became noticeable.
"Mari, are you alright?"
Hanyul asked with concern, but she did not respond. That alone was proof she was deep inside a world of planning that should not be interrupted.
"Wait—Mariana, did something happen?"
Raphael added, yet she still did not answer.
Seongjin raised a finger and gently touched her shoulder.
"Mariana, we're talking to you."
She looked at them with a tense smile and said,
"What is it? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."
"Did something happen outside?"
her brother asked worriedly.
"Actually—
Before she could finish, the sound of a plate shattering echoed from the kitchen.
"Is everything alright in there?"
Raphael raised his voice, asking about their condition. Rora answered while bowing apologetically.
"It's Jinho, my lord. We apologize for the disturbance."
"What happened?"
the head servant scolded him, only for them to hear Jinho say,
"I'm sorry. I was distracted—I didn't notice it slipping."
Seongjin frowned to himself.
Could something truly have happened?
They both drifted away at the same moment, with the same depth—neither responded when called.
He wanted to know what had happened, to ask—but she seemed relieved when the attention shifted away from her.
She straightened up and said with a sigh,
"I'll return to my room, Your Highness. May I?"
"Very well. Take this as a time to rest."
He granted her permission, and she left without looking back.
She did not want to inform them. Perhaps Raphael knew the Amberville family—he would return the boy, and the events would advance too quickly.
Night.
Jinho sat outside in the garden, staring at the pond.
He sighed in frustration; he had found no solution for Suhan.
Should I simply leave him be?
I doubt this foolish novel would allow me that choice.
If it has revealed him now, then there must be something it wants to convey—something I do not yet understand.
What I know—or remember—is that he is not a legitimate son of the Amberville family.
He is the son of a concubine from the palace.
Lord Amberville suffered from his wife's infertility, yet he loved her. After many years, she herself suggested that he take a child from another woman.
It seems no one knows about him.
We, the children of nobles, used to gather in the central meadow between the four regions—
more precisely, Raphael, my sister, Seongjin, and I.
As for Mari and Han, they were unable to come because of Sylvester.
I must return to him.
I will ensure the novel returns to its path—even if that path becomes my fate.