Elian was puzzled by how the conversation had taken an unexpected turn. He couldn’t figure out Lorenz’s intention in bringing this up.
Ashford Academy—it was a prestigious private school on the Upper East Side.
According to Elian’s research, it was also a place where generations of the Lockhart family had enrolled. The foundation was one where their influence was strongly felt.
“He should be attending kindergarten at his age, but Lucas needed an adjustment period after the adoption. Father arranged for the child to receive education at home instead of attending kindergarten. But as you’ve seen yourself, Mr. Bellotti… enrollment in the elementary division is difficult under the current circumstances. He needs advance preparation to enroll in September and handle the curriculum without difficulty, so this state of affairs is quite problematic.”
It was a businesslike tone, devoid of emotion.
Seeming to think that was enough explanation of the situation, Lorenz Lockhart leaned his upper body forward slightly, as if this was the main point.
“When do you think he can be treated?”
When Lorenz finished speaking, Elian couldn’t help but recall Vincent’s words.
“It’s obvious. He’s a brother with no blood relation that Father adopted belatedly, and the situation is bad enough to need a live-in counselor. He doesn’t want to waste time on such matters.”
Lorenz Lockhart had presented a clear goal: “The child must be enrolled at Ashford Academy.”
At the same time, he was talking as if the child’s current condition was getting in the way of achieving that goal.
Up until now, Elian had met various guardians. Among them were the wealthy and the extremely poor, guardians who were endlessly self-sacrificing toward their children, and harsh guardians who weren’t even aware they were abusing them.
And of course, there were also those who tried to manage children to get them to pass certain benchmarks. An authoritarian parenting style with low emotional responsiveness and affection, but high demands and control. Just like Lorenz Lockhart.
Though anger surged at his attitude toward the child, Elian composed himself and explained as calmly as possible.
“Mr. Lockhart, first of all… I’d like to ask you to use the expression ‘treatment’ carefully from now on.”
“Is there some problem?”
“The purpose is not to view the child as ‘something that needs to be fixed,’ and not to define the current situation as an ‘illness.’ It may seem trivial to you, but children are influenced by the words and actions of the adults around them more sensitively than we expect. So I’d appreciate it if you could avoid direct expressions that might give the impression that there’s something wrong with the child.”
“Then what expression should I use?”
“Let’s call it improvement or stabilization of the situation.”
After hearing the answer, Lorenz recrossed his legs in the opposite direction and rephrased.
“Fine. Then when do you think this situation will improve?”
Only the word Elian had pointed out had changed, but it was still the same question.
It seemed that Lorenz Lockhart wasn’t going to be an easy guardian to counsel.
But not all guardians could be ideal and cooperative. If one only preferred such guardians, one couldn’t be called a good counselor either.
“The speed of change inevitably varies depending on the child’s personality, environment, and the guardian’s level of cooperation. That’s why it’s difficult for me to give a definite answer about when it will be possible.”
As if he didn’t understand, Lorenz tilted his head at an angle and frowned.
Elian observed his face carefully.
Just as he’d seen in photos and video materials, Lorenz Lockhart’s skin was pale. It was different from simply being fair or light. The color was faint, as if it had been deprived of pigment from not seeing light for a long time.
Nevertheless, he was far from looking frail.
His physique was robust, and his unyielding posture made him feel not just elegant but even oppressive.
His lips were a dark, deep red, and his pale green eyes were filled with sharp intelligence.
Separate from his pale skin, he didn’t look lacking in vitality. However, there was clearly a cold atmosphere about him, as if he would unhesitatingly take someone’s blood to fill his own stomach.
‘Manhattan’s Count Dracula’—it was a moment when the nickname the media had given him made sense.
Count Dracula tilted his head crookedly.
“Even if you haven’t obtained a formal license yet, aren’t you a professional? You’ve been observing the child for several days, yet you can’t even grasp a rough treatment… no, improvement timeline. I don’t understand.”
“Because a child isn’t a machine. As you know, even with physical illnesses, don’t people respond to medications, procedures, and surgeries at different speeds? Emotional aspects are much harder to predict than that.”
This time, Lorenz stared intently at Elian’s face. He had no intention of hiding the fact that he was examining and evaluating his counterpart. Rather, he revealed it blatantly.
The man before him, Elian Bellotti, was indeed unrealistically beautiful. So much so that it was remarkable he spoke like any other person.
Moreover, no matter how outstanding his credentials, he was still only twenty-five years old. Yet the fact that he wasn’t intimidated at all and calmly expressed his thoughts was impressive. It must be because of his confidence in having secured that level of expertise in his field.
Having finished his examination, Lorenz presented what he wanted.
“Make the child able to come out of the room within two weeks.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I can’t just wait around vaguely like that. Such an inefficient approach isn’t my way.”
Elian was at a loss for words at the statement mentioning efficiency and methods.
In the meantime, Lorenz added conditions to his demand.
“Make him come out of the room within two weeks, and make him able to speak again within a month. How about it?”
“Mr. Lockhart.”
Elian called him in a stiff tone, but Lorenz didn’t stop and continued with his proposal.
“Of course, I’m not trying to rush you without compensation. If you achieve the demands, I’ll pay an additional bonus.”
Eventually, Elian’s face contorted. His blue eyes resembling the sky, stars, and sea creased, and his full yet delicate lips twisted.
Even making that expression, it’s a beautiful face.
Would he still be beautiful if he got angrier, sneered, or shed tears?
Lorenz was thinking such thoughts.
“Mr. Lockhart.”
“Yes, Mr. Bellotti.”
“The child’s behavior isn’t the problem. His behavior has changed because he’s feeling anxious. If you remove the anxiety, the child will naturally change. That’s why we’re trying not to make the behavior itself the issue.”
“……”
Lorenz’s expressionless face showed he didn’t understand at all.
Unlike at first, Elian emphasized once more in a somewhat agitated tone.
“Dragging him out of the room and making him speak isn’t the purpose of this counseling.”
“That’s not the purpose?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Then what exactly are you here for?”
“To remove the cause. The cause that’s preventing the child from coming out of his room and making him unable to speak.”
After mulling over the meaning for a moment, Lorenz spoke.
“Then remove that cause. Doing so would achieve my demand, wouldn’t it?”
Speaking as if it were a very simple matter, he picked up his water glass and added:
“Actually, this isn’t a request. It’s an order as your employer.”
Elian felt he’d reached his limit. This wasn’t just about him being one guardian among many with different dispositions.
Since entering this study, Lorenz Lockhart hadn’t asked a single word about Lucas’s condition. What had been observed about the child during the past few days of counseling, what situation the child was in, what kind of intervention was needed… such things were outside his interest.
“When do you think he can be treated?”
His interest was solely in the results of the counseling, and his own goal of Lucas’s enrollment at Ashford.
