He carried me out into the small garden behind the residence, the sunlight warm on my face.
"Look, young master," Sebastian said softly, pointing toward a butterfly fluttering near the flowers.
"That one is called a moon-wing."
He moved slowly, letting me watch as the butterfly drifted past, its wings glowing faintly in the light.
Then he walked toward the small pond, the surface rippling gently in the breeze. He leaned forward slightly, pointing.
"And here… these are mugine fish. They're used to keep the pond and pool clean. Normally, they live deep in the forest, but an adventurer brought them and sold them to your mother."
I stared at the darting silver shapes.
Damn it. How can I yank that mustache now?
"And this plant here…" Sebastian continued, guiding us toward a patch of tall, slender stalks with faintly glowing tips.
"This was planted by me. I brought the seeds back from my homeland, far away. It repels spirits and ghouls. Even monsters will avoid coming near this place."
He smiled down at me, his eyes gentle.
"So as long as you are here, young master, you will always be safe."
…Damn.
I couldn't help it. For a man with such a ridiculous mustache, he was making it really hard to dislike him.
"The wood used for the fence looks ordinary, doesn't it?" Sebastian asked with a faint smirk.
I blinked, tilting my head like a clueless child.
"But in truth, it's called repen. Even if only a single beam of the fence is made from that wood, it's enough to repel monsters, at least the lower-ranked ones. They won't dare cross it."
He said it so casually, yet the weight of his words wasn't lost on me. Even the smallest details in this place were deliberate.
Then Sebastian carried me further, to the backyard.
The land wasn't large, just a stretch of soil behind the residence, edged by the faint glow of protective plants. He stopped there, his smile fading.
"This land is not big enough," he said quietly. "But when you grow older, young master… please, make use of it. Plant something. Farm, even if only a little."
His expression darkened, his voice dropping into a heavy, serious tone.
"I don't know how long I can protect your mother… or ensure that her household budget won't be cut further. That's why she and the staff still loyal to me are busy, fighting to keep even this much. Every year, the main house looks for an excuse to reduce it."
I froze, my tiny body still, but inside my thoughts ran deep.
Sebastian lowered his gaze slightly, his mustache twitching.
"I'm sorry, young master. But I will try my best to ensure that at least the two of you never go hungry."
Then, after a moment of silence, he added even more quietly:
"…And Marie, the maid who serves you now, she will soon be reassigned back to the main house. I can't guarantee another will be sent in her place."
"Really sorry, young master."
Sebastian looked down at me, his eyes soft, his expression gentle, as if I couldn't possibly understand a word he was saying. And then he smiled.
"Soon, the staff from the main house won't be coming here anymore. Probably only me will be assigned to deliver the monthly budget."
His voice lowered, almost like he was confessing something to the air itself.
"And I fear… that sooner or later, even that budget will be stretched. Perhaps reduced to once every six months."
My tiny hands clenched against his coat, though to him it was probably just a baby fidgeting.
Sebastian's smile remained, but there was a heaviness behind it.
"That's why most of the workers you see cleaning this courtyard aren't paid servants anymore, young master. They're villagers from nearby… helping your mother in exchange for a few coins."
He adjusted his grip on me, his voice softening again.
"Your mother treats them kindly. That kindness is what holds this little household together."
His eyes drifted toward the garden wall, his mustache twitching as he exhaled.
"…But kindness alone doesn't last forever."
Then Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out something small.
A necklace. Simple, with a faintly gleaming stone set into a plain metal frame. He placed it gently around my tiny neck, the cool weight resting against my chest.
"And if one day… the budget is no longer sent here," he said quietly, his voice steady but heavy,
"Give this to your mother. Tell her to sell it. It should be enough to start something. Enough to keep you both alive."
He adjusted the clasp, making sure it rested securely, then straightened, his gaze drifting upward.
The vast sky stretched above us, bright yet distant.
"…I wonder," Sebastian murmured, almost to himself, "why even this small house, enough for only five people, needs to face a budget cut."
His hand tightened slightly on my back, the smile still there, but now fragile.
"Alright… let's go to your mother. I believe they've already finished calculating and cutting the costs for the house."
Sebastian's lips curved into a distant, kind smile he wore in front of others, but this time it felt more real. A grandfather's smile. Gentle. Warm. The kind that said, no matter how bad things get, I'll still be here.
He shifted me in his arms, steady as ever, and turned back toward the residence.
The garden faded behind us, the faint glow of spirit-repelling plants swaying in the breeze.
Inside waited reality. Papers, numbers, and the quiet war of budgets that would decide whether my mother and I lived in comfort or in hunger.
But for now, in his arms, with that smile… I felt just a little safer.
( End Of Chapter )