Linia Took in a Child - Chapter 2: Visitor (2)

“I see. He seems to be very attached to you,” Russell remarked, crouching slightly to meet the child at eye level.

The boy, still clinging tightly to Linia’s waist, shrank further behind her as Russell extended his left hand.

“Pardon my late introduction, but can you tell me your name?” Russell asked gently.

Ruin, however, avoided the outstretched hand and ducked entirely behind Linia, tightening his grip around her waist. He remained silent, refusing to respond. Linia had no choice but to speak for him.

“Apologies. He’s very shy and has trouble interacting with strangers.”

“No need to apologize. I was the same way as a child—always hiding behind my older brother,” Russell said with a light laugh, straightening his posture.

“I’m sure we’ll get to know each other better over time.”

As he spoke, Linia glanced at him curiously. She hadn’t expected his words to carry such familiarity. At that moment, she realized how close he had stepped. The slight distance made her uneasy, though his demeanor remained respectful.

“Honestly,” Russell began carefully, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering warmth, “I’d like to get to know you better, my lady.”

Maintaining eye contact, he continued in a gentle tone.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to visit you again sometime.”

Though his tone was polite, the depth of emotion he couldn’t fully conceal was unmistakable. Linia found it unsettling, but she couldn’t find the words to turn him down. Instead, she gave a small, reluctant nod.

*

He had left with a promise to send a letter before his next visit.

Now alone in her room, Linia sat with her embroidery, her hands working diligently to occupy her restless mind. Yet, even hours after he had gone, she couldn’t shake the lingering confusion that clouded her thoughts.

She had thought meeting him would confirm her suspicions, but it had done the opposite. He seemed far too sincere and respectful to be the kind of person who would do such a thing to her while she slept. Their conversation had been brief, yet his words and demeanor felt genuine, not like the calculated performance of someone trying to deceive her.

Most importantly, he appeared to know nothing about Ruin. If he truly had entered her room at night, there was no way he could have missed seeing the boy sleeping beside her.

Still, there was one detail that she couldn’t ignore—his unmistakable affection for her. Even in their limited interactions, it was clear he harbored deep feelings for her. That unsettled Linia, especially since they hardly knew each other.

…I’ll have to ask him directly.

It seemed like the only way forward. Linia didn’t want to keep suspecting someone based on assumptions alone. All she could hope for was that he would answer her questions honestly the next time they met.

Lost in thought, Linia was startled back to reality by the soft chime of the small bell on her door. Setting her embroidery hoop and needle aside, she looked toward the door. There, peeking his head through the open door, was Ruin.

“Ruin,” she called gently.

At her warm tone, Ruin stepped inside, closing the door behind him before approaching her. He quickly nestled into her arms, and Linia looked down at him with a smile.

“Did you come here without drying your hair? You’ll catch a cold like that,” she scolded lightly, noticing the damp strands dripping water onto her skirt.

It seemed he had run straight to her room right after his bath, without even bothering to towel off. Linia suppressed a laugh, knowing she should be firmer with him but finding it hard to be strict when it came to Ruin.

The spreading wet patch on her skirt didn’t bother her as much as the sight of him kneeling on the floor to cling to her. She decided she needed to get him up and dry him off. Pointing to her wardrobe, she spoke softly.

“Could you bring me a towel from over there?”

“Are you going to dry my hair?” Ruin asked, lifting his head abruptly from where it had been buried against her lap.

When Linia nodded, he immediately stood and retrieved a towel, handing it to her obediently. Linia patted the space next to her, and Ruin sat down. She began rubbing his hair dry with the towel, her fingers gently combing through the damp strands. A faint, clean fragrance rose from his freshly washed hair, filling the room.

As she continued to dry his hair, Ruin suddenly turned his head and spoke.

“…Are you going to give it to him?”

“Give what to whom?” Linia asked, surprised.

“To that man who came earlier,” he clarified, his voice muffled beneath the towel and tinged with a pout.

Linia followed his gaze to the embroidery hoop sitting on her bed.

“We’re not close enough for me to give him a gift,” she replied lightly.

“But he gave you a present,” Ruin pointed out, his tone insistent.

“That was just a thank-you gift. I had no choice but to accept it,” Linia explained.

“Then why did you tell him he could come back?” Ruin asked, his voice now carrying a note of sulkiness.

Linia couldn’t help but smile at his tone. It was clear that he misunderstood, assuming she had feelings for the man. His jealousy only made him more endearing in her eyes.

“Would you rather he didn’t come back?”

Ruin nodded vigorously—twice, in quick succession.

“I don’t want him to come back ever again.”

Ruin was now capable of throwing a proper, childlike tantrum, something he hadn’t done when he first arrived at the mansion. Compared to those early days, he had changed so much. Seeing how he now seemed to rely on her brought a quiet joy to Linia’s heart.

“…I’m scared he might do something bad,” Ruin murmured softly.

At the same time, Linia felt a pang of sorrow seeing how wary he was of strangers. His mistrust of others ran so deep, and she wished she could ease his fears.

“You don’t have to be so scared. I’m here, and so are Bessie and Sophie. You’re not alone,” she reassured him gently. “Besides, he’s only staying for a short conversation. It won’t be long. That’s not so bad, right?”

Ruin nodded slightly, though his lowered gaze revealed he still wasn’t happy about it. Linia thought for a moment, wondering how she might lift his spirits. Her eyes fell on the embroidery hoop sitting nearby.

“You know, I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I’ve been making a gift—for you,” she said with a soft smile.

“Really?” His head perked up, and his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“Yes. It’s my first time embroidering something to give as a gift, so I’m a bit nervous about how it’ll turn out. But when it’s finished, will you accept it?”

“If it’s from you, I’ll love it no matter what!” Ruin replied brightly, his face lighting up with pure delight.

Linia couldn’t help but smile warmly at his innocent and heartfelt words. She reached out to gently ruffle his hair.

“Thank you. I’ll do my best to make it perfect for you,” she promised.

Thanks to his short hair, it didn’t take long for it to dry. Once she had tidied his hair with a comb, Linia picked up the embroidery hoop again and resumed her work. Ruin sat beside her, flipping through a picture book.

As she glanced at the top of his little head, so intent on his reading, Linia smiled to herself. He was such a bright and clever child, with a memory sharp enough to never forget a word once taught. Now, he could even read simple storybooks all on his own.

“Linia, how do you read this?”

The small voice pulled Linia’s attention downward. Ruin was pointing at a large word printed on the page of his book.

“The word next to the village? You pronounce it as cheonyeo.”

“What’s cheonyeo?”

“Hmm, it means a young woman who hasn’t married yet,” Linia explained. While there were other meanings, she decided it was too early to delve into them with a child. Watching his peachy cheeks so close, Linia found herself smiling before turning away to give him space to focus on the book again.

But then Ruin’s curious voice asked, “Are you a cheonyeo, Linia?”

“Well, I haven’t gotten married, so I suppose I am,” she answered with a small laugh.

Ruin lifted his gaze to meet hers, and his face lit up with a bright smile.

“Really?” he exclaimed, his youthful voice bubbling with excitement.

Linia couldn’t quite figure out why this fact delighted him so much. But the reason became clear as Ruin, with innocent cheerfulness, declared, “Then, Linia, since you’re not married, marry me!”

“Marry you? Where did that idea come from all of a sudden?” Linia asked, amused.

“In the storybook, it said if you marry someone you love, you can live happily ever after. So, I want to marry you,” Ruin said earnestly, looking up at her with wide, hopeful eyes that sparkled with expectation.

His pure-hearted logic and the way he stared up at her with such trust made Linia laugh. She found his words incredibly endearing.

“I’m sorry, Ruin,” she said gently, “I’d love to live happily with you forever, but promises like that aren’t something we can make so easily.”

Instead of the affirmation he was expecting, her soft rejection left him momentarily speechless. Disappointment crept into his expression, and he started to wonder if she didn’t care as much for him as he thought.

“You’ll grow up and meet someone you love even more than me,” Linia continued, her tone kind and soothing. “You should save your promises for that person, don’t you think?”

Ruin didn’t reply, instead staring at her with a small pout. Sensing his dissatisfaction, Linia leaned in closer and added warmly, “But I hope you and the person you love will live happily ever after, just like in the storybook. Of course, that doesn’t mean you should forget about me, alright?”

“…I don’t want anyone else but you,” Ruin mumbled, his voice grumpy as he set the storybook aside. He slid under the covers, pulling the blanket over his head until only a small lump on the bed remained.

Linia looked at the little bump in the blanket and couldn’t suppress her quiet laughter.

“Ruin, are you mad?” she asked teasingly.

The lack of response made it clear he was sulking. Putting her embroidery hoop down, Linia began coaxing him gently.

“I really want to see your face. Won’t you show it to me?”

Linia’s voice was filled with gentle affection as she leaned closer, tugging lightly at the blanket.

“Ruin, I want to see your face. Will you show me?”

As she gently pulled on the fabric, Ruin loosened his grip, letting the blanket slide down. Beneath it, soft silver-gray hair peeked out, followed by a round forehead.

“What do I have to do to make you feel better, hmm?” Linia asked playfully, tilting her head as though she hadn’t already noticed that his sulking had mostly dissipated. His slightly arched eyebrows betrayed the fact that his mood had already improved, but Linia pretended not to notice, continuing to coax him.

Finally pulling the blanket down completely, Linia revealed his fair face, glowing with a faint pout that made him even more endearing.

“Then give me a kiss,” Ruin said, looking up at her with big, expectant eyes.

“A kiss? Will that make you feel better?” she teased, her voice soft with amusement.

Ruin nodded enthusiastically, his head bobbing twice with certainty. Linia, charmed by his innocent request, leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

“Muah,” she said playfully as her lips landed on his soft, warm skin. Then, for good measure, she kissed his other cheek, lingering just long enough to make him giggle.

Ruin squirmed slightly, his shoulders jerking from the ticklish sensation, but he didn’t pull away.

“And what about you, Ruin? Aren’t you going to give me a kiss?” Linia asked, her voice teasing as she lightly tickled his flushed cheeks with her fingers.

She then laid down beside him, tapping her own cheek invitingly to make it easier for him to reciprocate.

Ruin leaned in and pressed his small lips against her cheek. The gentle warmth, fleeting yet tender, brought back memories of a long-forgotten but familiar sensation for Linia.

“Linia, aren’t you going to do it, too?” Ruin asked, tapping his cheek with his finger, a playful smile lighting up his face.

The sight of him mimicking her earlier gestures was so endearing that Linia couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed like Ruin was always the one who brought laughter to her days.

Instead of another kiss, Linia wrapped her arms around his small, soft body, pulling him into a warm embrace. Just moments ago, her heart had felt heavy, but now it was filled with a quiet joy.

“You know, Ruin,” she said softly, “I just remembered my younger sibling.”

“You have a sibling?” Ruin asked, his voice curious.

“Yes, I do. I think the last time I saw them, they were about your age,” Linia replied, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

Perhaps that was why she had felt so drawn to Ruin the moment she first saw him, she thought to herself. For the first time, Linia spoke about her sibling, a topic she had never shared with Sophie, Bessie, or anyone else.

“They used to adore me so much,” Linia continued. “They’d sneak into my room every chance they got. Seeing them was always the happiest part of my day…”

Her mind drifted to the image of a child as pure and white as an angel, their laughter ringing clear like a bell. The memory of the little one embracing her and kissing her cheek felt as faint as the mist of early dawn.

Normally, thinking about those times would have filled her with heartache, but now it only brought a gentle yearning and a peaceful warmth. Linia realized it was likely because of the boy in her arms—Ruin.

“It feels like I just revisited some of my happiest moments with my sibling. Thank you for listening, Ruin,” she said with a quiet smile, holding him a little closer.

The scent of sunshine lingered on his small, warm frame as she hugged him tighter.

Linia couldn’t help but wonder if the gods, in their pity for her, had sent Ruin as a final gift. Perhaps they were allowing her these fleeting moments to remember her sibling, to feel that same love again.

She silently gave her heartfelt thanks to the gods for allowing her to meet Ruin.

* * *