Mrs. Mahal watched the rain falling from the gray sky; each drop hitting and sliding down the window brought her peace, easing her headache but also making her sleepier. Thanks to the rain, she could even ignore the noise that was called music and the chatter of some gossiping rats at other tables.
She decided that she liked this kind of rain.
"Mrs. Mahal… Kreugh," the little cake whispered softly to her.
Although it wasn't noticeable, Mrs. Mahal was slightly startled; she hadn't realized the child had left his chair and come up beside her.
In response, she gave him a small nod. This seemed to cheer the boy up, making him even more confident in his decision.
"No one knows you're here, right? It's like a secret! Kreugh," Takari whispered with a small smile. "Daddy says that when someone tells you a secret, you should keep it and never tell anyone."
And Takari continued whispering as if sharing a precious piece of information: "All secrets need trust to be told, and when you tell someone else's secret, you are betraying the trust placed in you."
Such words were deep for a child, but he said them as if they were something so simple yet precise, and Mrs. Mahal couldn't help but find it cute.
After staring at each other for a few seconds, the little cake broke into a huge, cheerful smile, showing his sharp baby canines. He approached her and carefully placed his little backpack on her lap, and when he was sure it wouldn't fall, he puffed out his chest in a proud pose.
"Mrs. Mahal, you trusted me, I will trust you!" He said with contagious joy.
Takari quickly glanced at the maids with narrowed eyes as if suspecting them, then moved a little closer to the albino woman and whispered his secret softly.
"There are two babies in my backpack; they are going to be my new siblings! They didn't have a mommy, so my mom is going to be their mommy!" Takari's eyes sparkled as he spoke.
Maybe it was the innocence and admiration shining in the child's eyes or the heavy weight of the backpack on her lap that she could barely hold, but the white-haired woman found it very overwhelming. 'How can the little cake trust someone he met just a few hours ago so much?' She thought, terrified.
She quickly turned to the flies looking for help, but they just watched the scene, smiling stupidly, which undoubtedly irritated Mrs. Mahal.
But she couldn't make a scene here, could she? She didn't have enough energy or patience to deal with it.
*******
Hela admitted that she was a little worried about young Takari, but just a little!
Her leader, Patel, had said that when she sent a message to the police informing them of Takari's whereabouts, she saw a notice that a mother named Miraki had lost her son.
This provided some relief for her, but now Hela was afraid something might happen to the boy's mother on her way to pick him up. After all, unfortunately, even in the Mahal Territory and with the low number of cases, there are still mothers who abandon their children or children who become orphans because something happened to their parents.
But at least she knew that probably neither of those cases could happen. Ogres usually take pride in their genealogy, and when they introduce themselves, the most polite way is by mentioning their genealogy.
Mrs. Miraki and Mr. Tarikaeri were both alive and well; if they weren't, the child wouldn't have mentioned them.
When Hela felt someone tapping her arm, she turned angrily to see Patel pointing at someone with an amused smile.
Following the direction she was pointing, she saw the little boy walking carefully, holding his little backpack as if it were a precious treasure, towards his Lady, who was sitting distracted by the rain in the front chair.
Honestly, it was a very cute scene to watch. Takari, who thought he was whispering, was actually speaking loudly, and poor Mrs. Mahal was doing her best to interact with the boy despite her detached and emotionless demeanor.
BAM!
Hela's attention quickly turned to the Café door. Someone had opened the door with such force that it caused cracks in the walls – in fact, the cracks kept growing.
Hela watched the cracks grow and grow, reaching the ceiling and then spreading to where Takari was and...
The ceiling fell on him, but Patel and Vesper quickly got up to help him.
Hela stood up and observed who had opened the door. It was a tall and strong ogre who had opened the door, holding a wet black umbrella, looking out of breath.
The ogre wore a large and elegant black sun hat that cast a delicate shadow on her face. On her pointed green ears were detailed gold earrings that reflected light with every movement, and a beautiful pearl necklace adorned her robust neck.
The ogre woman wore a black suit decorated with delicate pink flower designs, perfectly fitted to her large and muscular body. She also wore lovely pink heels, and on her shoulder was a beautiful black purse, and in her arms, several shopping bags.
Hela got up from her chair, happy and relieved, and went to the woman at the door. It seemed her worries were unnecessary... Not that she was worried! Of course, a beautiful elf like her was sure that the child's mother would show up!
Meanwhile, Mrs. Mahal just watched as the two maids easily removed the fallen ceiling from Takari. Looking around the place, everyone else was just ignoring the accident as if it were something normal...
The albino woman sighed in despair. She could barely hold the little backpack on her lap, while the annoying flies easily held huge pieces of stone or whatever the ceiling was made of, and Takari laughed as if being hit by a piece of the ceiling tickled.
Was she too weak, or was everyone else too strong?
Mrs. Mahal was too tired and in pain to think straight.
She watched the little cake run to his mother, hugging her and excitedly talking about something, then come back to her to take his backpack to show his mother. After that, she simply gave up trying to understand everything and focused on watching the raindrops falling on the window.
She wished she could just close her eyes and sleep.
It's not like she was missing anything, just a big pie came to fetch her little cake.