Chapter 7: I’m Really Poor
“…The capital’s architecture is deeply influenced by ancient elven aesthetics, with flowing lines and a focus on harmony with natural elements. Understood, Miss Ailiya?”
Clara concluded her explanation of a fountain statue with her gentle tone, turning habitually to ask Ailiya’s thoughts.
But behind her, there was no one.
The white-haired girl had vanished at some point.
Clara’s face showed no trace of panic; her gentle smile only gained a hint of resignation.
Her thoughts drifted back to that morning, to a conversation in Liliane’s luxurious suite.
“Inform Ailiya she’s getting a week off.”
Liliane sat at her vanity, casually arranging her silver hair while giving Clara instructions.
“I’ll be handling family business with other nobles for the next few days. I don’t have time to deal with her.”
Clara paused mid-brush, her face showing concern:
“Miss, forgive my bluntness… Miss Ailiya just arrived at the academy and knows nothing about magic or maid etiquette. Giving her a week off—if she fails the entrance exam, she’ll really be expelled.”
“If she gets expelled,” Liliane’s voice held no emotion, “it only proves she lacks discipline or ability. I don’t have time to spoon-feed her every little thing.”
As Liliane’s childhood friend, Clara saw through the words instantly.
No time? The Winter family could afford the best tutors in the kingdom.
This was clearly an excuse.
A teasing curve touched Clara’s lips:
“So if you did have time, would you personally teach Miss Ailiya?”
Liliane’s hands froze mid-hair.
She didn’t turn or glance at Clara in the mirror, just stayed silent for a moment before muttering:
“…Mind your tongue.”
After finishing her grooming, Liliane stood and added:
“Take her to explore the capital. She’ll be living here a long time; it won’t hurt to learn more.”
She walked to the window, gazing out, her voice growing distant:
“If anything happens to her out there, leave her be. A fledgling must learn to fly on its own. If she can’t handle a little trouble, she doesn’t deserve to stay by my side. She needs to stand on her own.”
“I understand, Miss,” Clara replied respectfully.
Her recollection fading, Clara looked at the empty street and sighed softly.
Since it was her lady’s order, she had to obey.
“I hope Miss Ailiya is safe.”
Murmuring to herself, she turned, her elegant steps blending into the crowd.
Meanwhile, Ailiya was anything but “safe.”
“Please, I beg you, kind sirs, let me go!”
Ailiya clasped her hands, putting on her most pitiful expression, her voice trembling with sobs.
“I’m really broke! Poorer than you! I’m drowning in debt!”
“Shut it!” the burly leader spat viciously. “We saw you come out of St. Freya’s golden nest! Someone from that place, broke? Who’re you kidding? Boys, tie her up—we’ll squeeze a fortune out of her!”
“I’m just a maid!” Ailiya wailed, tears in her eyes.
“Get her!”
At the leader’s command, a thug with a rope lunged forward, grinning wickedly.
In his eyes, handling a whimpering little girl was child’s play.
“No—!”
Ailiya let out a piercing scream, but her body moved like a slippery eel, sliding aside at an impossible angle the moment he lunged, effortlessly dodging the rope.
She was so fast, the thug only caught a blur.
“Huh?” He stumbled, stunned, then roared in frustration, “You little b*tch, dodging me?!”
He charged again, but Ailiya, still crying “I’m sorry, don’t grab me,” darted away with nimble steps, leaving him grasping at air.
The bizarre scene felt like a slap to the thugs’ pride.
“All of you, get her!” the leader bellowed.
The rest swarmed, blocking every escape in the narrow alley, pouncing from all sides.
But what happened next shattered their understanding.
The white-haired girl moved like a startled butterfly, weaving through their airtight encirclement.
She leaned back, slid sideways, ducked low—each move perfectly evaded their grasping hands, all while her terrified pleas for mercy never stopped.
“What’s with this girl?!”
The thugs panted, grabbing at her as she dodged, still apologizing and begging.
After what felt like forever, the alley echoed only with heavy breathing.
The thugs collapsed, sprawled out, too exhausted to move a finger.
Ailiya, hearing the silence, cautiously lifted her head, tears still glistening on her face.
“Huh? Why… are you all down?”
The leader, trembling, pointed at the unscathed, slightly spooked Ailiya, mustering his last strength to shout:
“You… you just wait…”
At the hint of a threat, Ailiya’s fear vanished, replaced by a flicker of anger.
She puffed her cheeks, huffed, and turned to leave the alley.
Moments later, she returned with a squad of capital patrol guards.
“These are the kidnappers you mentioned?”
The patrol captain eyed the sprawled thugs, then the frail girl nodding vigorously beside him, his expression full of confusion.
The leader’s face turned green at the sight of the patrol.
His legs shook as he struggled to stand, yelling to his men: “Brothers… run, quick!”
A thug wheezed back: “Boss… can’t… move…”
In the end, the failed kidnappers were dragged off by the patrol like dead dogs, utterly defeated.
After the patrol left, the alley fell quiet.
Ailiya let out a long breath, relief washing over her.
But the next second, she froze, remembering something.
“Oh no! Miss Clara!”
She was supposed to be touring the capital with Clara!
Running off after a fake coin—if Clara found out, she’d get an earful!
Ailiya rushed back to the bustling street, craning her neck to search the crowd for Clara’s familiar figure.
But the street was packed, and after searching, she couldn’t spot the ever-smiling brown-haired maid.
Just as Ailiya was on the verge of tears, a cheerful voice called from behind.
“Ailiya? Are you out exploring too?”
Turning, Ailiya saw Aurora standing there, her golden hair dazzling in the sunlight.
She held a delicately wrapped pink cupcake, a small fork in her mouth, a dab of cream on her lip, looking relaxed and content.