Chapter 72: Someone Else's Child
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Although both Ash and Heiter were doing their best to keep Fern from noticing their true intentions, they continued to bring in people who specialized in child care, under the guise of "inviting guests to play." Each time, they would subtly ask Fern how she felt about the guests and, in turn, gauge how the guests felt about her.
They thought they had concealed their purpose well, but they underestimated the sensitivity of Fern, a former homeless child who had grown up learning to read between the lines. Or perhaps, more tellingly, it was the way those visitors looked at her that gave her the sense they weren't just here as friends of Ash.
The turning point came one day when Ash and Heiter went together to the Holy City. Fern, who was tidying up the room Ash had been using, noticed something unusual—the drawer was half open.
"Did Master Ash forget to close the drawer?" She muttered.
This particular drawer had always been securely locked, never touched in front of her. Now, seeing it partially open stirred an unsettling curiosity, and she couldn't help but glance inside. At first, she only intended to close it, but something caught her eye—a document with a familiar name, one of the recent guests.
Unable to resist, she gently took out the file. Inside, she found extensive information about each visitor who had come by: personal traits, family background, financial standing, and, most importantly, their attitudes toward children.
"Is this… what I think it is? No… there must be some mistake…" Fern whispered, her voice wavering as she tried to reject what she was seeing. Yet, with undeniable evidence laid bare, the truth she had long ignored finally broke through her defenses.
The world around her seemed to lose its color and sound, leaving only her rapid, shallow breathing and the relentless beat of her heart. Her mind went blank, her pupils dilated, and she was left staring as the papers slipped from her trembling hands, scattering across the floor—just like the fragments of her heart at that moment.
"Ah… No… I need to clean this up… If I leave these documents scattered, Master Ash will be angry… but no, he's never been angry with me, not once… What… what is happening?"
Fern dropped to the floor, scrambling to gather the papers. Yet her vision was blurred, and despite her efforts to hold Herself together, tears spilled down her cheeks without restraint.
"This is strange… Why can't I stop crying? I can't see… what should I do… Master Ash will be back soon…"
No matter how hard she wiped at her tears, they continued to flow. She tried to stifle the sobs rising in her throat, but the more she tried, the stronger they became, forcing themselves out against her will.
It felt as if an invisible hand was gripping her chest tightly, squeezing with a pressure so intense she could hardly breathe. A sharp, wrenching pain struck her, forcing her to knees. She instinctively clutched her chest with both hands, as if that might ease the ache.
Her face, usually calm and expressionless, was now distorted with despair, and finally…
This mature but still young child was overwhelmed by the wave of emotions she'd been holding back. She covered her face, trying to silence her sobs, desperate to hide any sounds ehe made. But her emotions refused to be contained; the quiet wails seeped between her fingers, filling the empty room with her heartbreak.
...
Meanwhile, Ash had been dragging Heiter through yet another circuit around the Holy City in search of a suitable candidate. After what felt like the nth round of interviews, Heiter could no longer hide his growing frustration and exasperation, feeling increasingly doubtful that they would ever find the right person for this task.
It wasn't just that Ash's requirements were demanding—Fern had no desire to leave Ash at all.
Why can't he see that the child doesn't want to leave him at all? Heiter thought, feeling helpless about the current situation.
After spending some time observing, however, he understood he couldn't blame Ash entirely. Ash genuinely was busy with various matters, and Fern's personality made things complicated. Fern was too introverted and kept her feelings hidden; whe was overly considerate, maintaining a distance no child should have. It would confuse anyone.
The two of them were completely unclear about each other's true feelings, yet Heiter, an old man watching from the sidelines, could see it all clearly.
Caught in this unspoken tug-of-war, he decided to give Fern a chance. Quietly, he used a spare key to unlock Ash's drawer before going out.
Today, he didn't spend much time wandering around the Holy City with Ash. He quickly excused himself, saying he felt unwell and didn't want to burden the old man.
Though Ash wanted to meet more people, he worried Heiter genuinely wasn't feeling well, so he compromised and returned home with him.
But just as they pushed open the half-open door, Ash was taken aback to hear the muffled sobbing of a child coming from the living room.
"What happened? Did you fall, or…" he trailed off, frowning. No, that's not it.
Fern hadn't cried since the night they first met. Remembering this, he instinctively reached for his sword and rushed into the room.
However, the scene he anticipated wasn't there.
Instead, he found Fern sitting on the ground, covering her face with both hands as if trying to hide all her pain and sadness. Her small body was still trembling.
Papers lay scattered across the floor, and the drawer beside her was wide open.
Did I forget to lock it? Ash was momentarily confused, glancing at Heiter for guidance.
But Heiter only gave a faint smile, turned, and walked out, pretending not to see anything. He closed the door behind him.
Ash hesitated, looking back at Fern on the floor. Then, he squatted down beside her, gently stroking her hair, trying to comfort her.
"What's wrong, Fern? Ah… I mean… er, how should I put this?" To be honest, he had no idea what to say and found himself suddenly at a loss for words.
Fern's small body jolted at his touch, but, realizing he was there, she began wiping her tears with one hand while clutching the hem of his clothes with the other. She looked up, her eyes full of helplessness and even fear, and apologized to him through broken sobs:
"I'm… I'm sorry! I didn't do well… It's all my fault… I'm sorry, I… I was wrong, please forgive me…"
Her voice was trembling, choked with quiet desperation. Seeing her like this sent a wave of panic through him.
"No, no, why are you apologizing? You haven't done anything wrong, There, there, please don't cry," he said, flustered. "Look, I'll get you whatever you want to eat, okay?"
"No, that's not it! I… I don't want to be someone else's child…" Fern's words came out strained, as if each one took all her strength. She gave up wiping away her tears, her small hands clutching his clothes even tighter.