“Rojo.”
The teacher pronounces the short Spanish word.
As soon as she finishes speaking, the child’s eyes swiftly scan the cards scattered on the table. And with a small hand, he picks out one of them.
“Correct! Well done!”
When he chooses the right card, the teacher’s appropriate praise and encouragement follow.
She looks around at the cards again with a rather contemplative attitude.
“Lucas is getting them all right? Shall we try something a bit harder this time?”
The child’s tension-filled eyes stare intently up at the teacher’s lips. It was an expression and gaze that simultaneously showed anticipation of wanting to quickly confirm the content he’d studied diligently, and anxiety of not wanting to get anything wrong at all.
“Um… mesa!”
As the teacher’s words fell, the child’s brown eyes dizzily wandered over the cards. Unlike until now when he’d shown firm confidence, the child seemed hesitant.
Lucas was receiving Spanish lessons in the study attached to his room.
Elian was sitting a little away from the desk, observing the child’s reactions.
As a child of the Lockhart family, Lucas already had to digest several educational programs. Basic reading and comprehension, mathematics, basic natural sciences, geography, American and world history, foreign languages… In addition, chess and art activities were also included as play concepts.
Among them, basic natural sciences and American and world history were classes that Lorenz Lockhart had added after moving to the mansion. It was preparation for enrolling at Ashford.
Break times, playtime, even that day’s snack menu. Lucas moved according to a set schedule. No matter how well the child seemed to be keeping up, it was a burdensome schedule for an ordinary 6-year-old.
Finally, Lucas very carefully picked out a card. A card with a wooden table drawn on it—it was the correct answer. However, perhaps not very confident, he crumpled the card in his hand. Then the child switched to a different card. As if unable to make up his mind this time either, his plump lower lip was chewed until it turned white.
“Lucas, it’s okay. This isn’t a test, it’s a game. You don’t have to be so nervous. You’ve already gotten plenty right so far, haven’t you?”
The teacher encouraged him warmly, but it didn’t calm the child’s anxiety. Lucas switched cards once more. And after that, he returned to the card he’d chosen at the very beginning. It was obsessive behavior. The child hung his head low while clutching the card tightly in his hand. Before long, drip, drip—teardrops fell onto his thighs. He could no longer bear the psychological pressure.
The teacher didn’t react loudly. As if it happened occasionally, she calmly just quietly held the child’s small shoulders and patted his back.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Lucas. Lucas is doing well enough right now. Teacher is proud of Lucas.”
Pity also appeared in Elian’s eyes as he watched the child.
The teacher, who had wiped Lucas’s tears, this time tried to redirect the child’s attention with a bright and cheerful tone.
“Then shall we have Lucas choose something he likes this time?”
However, the expression of the child who had just barely stopped crying immediately changed.
He firmly shut his small lips and shook his head strongly. He didn’t stop the action of shaking his head.
The teacher looked at Elian with a flustered face. Elian nodded slightly, meaning they didn’t need to demand anything more from the child. This time the teacher scooped up the child and fully held him in her arms to soothe him.
“Yes, yes. You don’t have to do it. I was just suggesting. It’s okay, Lucas. You don’t have to do it.”
With both arms wrapped tightly around the teacher’s neck and his face buried in her shoulder, the child didn’t lift his head for a long time.
According to observations so far, Lucas didn’t refuse lessons. Basically, his intellectual curiosity was vigorous, and his desire for achievement seemed fine. But of course, that wasn’t everything.
Not speaking.
Not trying to go outside the room.
—Lorenz Lockhart had spoken as if Lucas’s problems were those two things, but the situation wasn’t that simple.
The child had a tendency to blame himself excessively when facing problems he didn’t know or getting answers wrong.
And another thing—he showed an extreme rejection reaction to expressing himself. Enough to strongly shrink back even at the very simple question of choosing what he liked.
As a result of Elian’s observations since moving into this mansion, the child showed the same pattern in all lessons.
Although the child had been a quiet and shy personality before, the home tutors unanimously said that he quite enjoyed self-expression. Drawing pictures, writing in a diary, role-playing games were the classes the child liked most.
Then what exactly was blocking Lucas’s mouth?
Elian looked at the child clinging tightly to the teacher with worried eyes.
On the child’s desk sat that rabbit doll. Like a guardian angel always watching over the child.
After the lesson, while Lucas had snack time with his caregiver, Elian quietly slipped out of the room.
There was someone he needed to find, but he was at a loss as to where in this vast mansion he should go to meet her. However, based on his experience so far, he was bound to soon run into someone somewhere in the mansion. And they always knew her location.
Sure enough, it was the same this time.
Before even going downstairs, Elian ran into an employee on the second-floor landing.
Elian urgently stopped him as he was about to pass by with a slight smile.
“Um, I’d like to see Ms. Perrow.”
“She should be in the first-floor living room right now.”
“Thank you.”
A mansion managed by many people busily coming and going all day long.
There were only two residents—only Lorenz Lockhart and Lucas—but there were more than ten permanent employees. So no matter where you were in the mansion, you were bound to soon meet someone.
When he went downstairs, he saw Margaret as the employee had told him. She was instructing an employee about something near the sofa. Elian, who had been waiting in the back, approached Margaret after the employee left.
“Ms. Perrow.”
Margaret turned around while standing.
The area around her clear blue-gray eyes curved gently.
“Call me Margaret.”
“Ah, then… would you call me Elian too?”
“Shall I? Elian.”
Elian also smiled back at her.
When he first met Margaret for the interview, he’d been quite nervous about her atmosphere.
Her upright posture that never collapsed, a physique that felt firm with solid energy despite being lean without excess fat, distinct wrinkles between her brows, a resolute-looking mouth.
Clothing with no trace of waste but impeccably neat and elegant.
The impression of a typical prestigious family butler—strict, stern, and cold. Even her hair mixed with silvery-gray strands seemed to further emphasize her authoritative image.
But over the past ten days or so, his impression of her had changed.
She paid surprisingly meticulous attention to everything happening in this mansion. Not only to Lorenz Lockhart’s schedule and condition, but also to Lucas. And yet she showed no signs of being overwhelmed at all.
She was like a seasoned conductor who orchestrated this giant castle so that blood circulated and warmth was maintained.
Moreover, unlike her first impression of seeming cold, she was a person who knew how to reassure others with warm and gentle consideration.
“Is there something I can help with… Perhaps are there any inconveniences with your stay?”
Elian shook his head.
“No. Thanks to you, I’m staying very comfortably. I have something to ask about Lucas.”
Margaret tilted her head slightly toward Elian, indicating she was ready to listen seriously.
Elian opened his mouth carefully with a heavy heart.
“You said that Lucas had been unadopted twice before, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“If there are any related materials, I was wondering if I could see them.”
“I believe they were already provided to you…”
“The documents you gave me last time only had simple records of when he was adopted and unadopted. I was wondering if there might be materials that describe the situations at the time in more detail?”
Margaret nodded.
“For those materials, you should ask Lord Lorenz.”
“Ah… Does Mr. Lockhart have them?”
A troubled look appeared on Elian’s face.
