If You Leave Without a Word - Chapter 140
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
read more chapters on luna kofi
When Agatha looked up, wondering what was going on, she saw Rubens with a serious expression, staring intently at something ahead.
Following his gaze, she saw a patch of tall grass beyond a small hill. The sounds of footsteps grew louder, and everyone, who had been busy moving around, suddenly stopped and held their breath.
Within just a few seconds, they formed a formation around Agatha.
The footsteps came closer. In the meantime, Agatha felt her palms growing damp with nervousness.
“Hello!”
Suddenly, a small child’s head popped up through the thick grass.
“I’ve been waiting for you! You’ve finally come.”
It was as if the child had been expecting them, smiling brightly and walking toward Agatha. Rubens, who had instinctively placed his hand on his sword hilt, straightened his posture when he saw that the child was followed by a group of other children, all about ten years old or so.
“Are you the benefactor?”
There were at least fifteen children, their clothes old but neatly cleaned, suggesting that they were under someone’s care.
“Did you really set up an orphanage here…?”
Agatha murmured. She began to question whether the rumors she had heard from the head maid had been entirely truthful.
“Come on, over here! We’ve been waiting with our eyes wide open since a few days ago. We were so excited to read your letter from last month, and we’ve been waiting for you to come!”
The pure, excited voice and shining eyes of the child unexpectedly pricked at Agatha’s heart.
To these children, she would likely appear as a kind of angel who had suddenly appeared.
At that moment, Agatha felt a deep sense of shame, realizing how much her true intentions—wanting to uncover her husband’s infidelity—contrasted with the innocent happiness before her.
As she walked with the children for a while, a wooden house with a white iron fence came into view.
The house was simple, with no decorations or embellishments, clearly designed only for residential use, faithful to its purpose.
“I’ll go inside and bring Esther right out!”
The child who had been chattering happily grabbed the end of Agatha’s sleeve and ran inside.
The child, who had been leading Agatha to the orphanage, naturally took hold of her sleeve to guide her inside, and when Rubens moved to stop him, intending to remind him that it wasn’t appropriate to touch the Duchess, he fell silent at Agatha’s gentle gesture.
Having grown up in a war zone, these children had no concept of status or manners. There was no need for formalities in this place, and the men, understanding Agatha’s intent, quietly followed the child, each carrying a piece of luggage.
The sign on the entrance said: “Officially supported by the Kristin family.”
Agatha couldn’t take her eyes away from the wooden plaque on the door for a long moment.
Seeing Kristin’s name written by someone else’s hand in such an unexpected place felt strange.
It felt like a mix of longing and sadness.
The child who had rushed into the house reappeared, holding someone’s hand.
The person who emerged holding the child’s hand was a woman with red curly hair. She was tall for a woman. Agatha compared the woman before her with the portrait she had received from the artist.
‘What a terrible painter.’
The woman was nothing like the image in the painting. If not for her long, curly red hair, Agatha would never have thought this woman was the one depicted in the portrait.
The smile that bloomed on her face was striking. Agatha couldn’t remember the last time she herself had smiled so brightly, without a care in the world. In fact, she hadn’t smiled at all in the past year, at least not sincerely.
“Hello, welcome.”
The woman with the red hair greeted Agatha with a bright smile, just like the boy who had brought her here.
At that moment, Agatha felt that strange sense of unease she had experienced when she first saw the portrait. The woman’s bright smile and crescent-shaped eyes made her oddly reminiscent of someone.
Yes. It was absurd, but the woman looked very much like Cain.
Agatha had never seen Cain smile, yet somehow she could see his expression in the woman’s smile.
Caught off guard by her unexpected reaction, Agatha blinked a few times, not knowing how to respond. It wasn’t until the woman stepped forward and extended her hand that Agatha finally snapped out of her confusion.
“You are… Esther?”
“When I received your letter, I didn’t expect to meet you so soon. It’s such a pleasure.”
The woman extended her hand.
It was outrageous—this gypsy woman daring to ask for a handshake from Duchess Kristin. It was absurd. Karon and Rubens’s expressions turned grim.
Was she oblivious to the situation or just pretending not to notice?
“…Nice to meet you.”
Agatha felt a strange aversion to the overly familiar greeting. She didn’t accept the handshake.
The woman awkwardly withdrew her hand, looking embarrassed.
Agatha wasn’t an authoritarian who would insist on class or status. But in this case, it felt necessary to make sure the woman understood her place.
This wasn’t about Cain, nor was it about their issues. What Agatha needed to confirm was whether this woman truly deserved to receive the Duke’s sponsorship in her father’s name.
“Would you like to come inside?”
It seemed that the woman finally noticed the tense expressions of Agatha and her knights.
