Chapter Seven: The Prince and the Nanny (1)
“Caring for children is really hard work.”
I sighed as I closed the door behind me.
“Or maybe that boy in particular is an exception.”
Just remembering the prince's annoying face made my blood pressure rise for no reason.
Instead of chasing Edwin, who ran off with the bracelet, I decided to leave him alone. But unfortunately for me, the butler caught me for leaving Emilia alone. I caught her sneaking into the kitchen, unable to bear her hunger, and stealing food.
“If I see you slacking off on your duties again, I will deduct your salary. Understood?”
Fuck.
For an ordinary woman to threaten me with money… my pride was hurt, but I couldn't object. I need money to escape this place, and every dime counts. So I had no choice but to spend the whole day pursuing the two imperial brothers. As for Edwin, he would run away from me whenever he saw me, with a frown on his face.
I sighed deeply.
“Who would have thought I would make a living as a nanny?”
The word nanny sparked old memories in my memory.
I, Kayla Angel, was an orphan. I was born in a time when attacks by monsters and barbarians terrified everyone. Left to my own devices since birth, I spent seven years in a temple orphanage. There I met a woman... a woman who claimed to be the mother of children like us who had lost their parents. We used to call ourselves “family.”
But our peaceful life did not last long. Even the temple was not spared from barbarian raids. The temple burned, and the children were scattered, and I did not know if any of them survived. I barely escaped with my life, but I fell into the hands of a strange slave trader. He sold me to the Angel Breath Assassination Guild at a high price. Apparently, despite my poverty, I was larger than my peers, and that convinced the former guild leader to take me on.
My first memory of that place...the face of a trainer ordering me to kill a young puppy whose eyes had not yet opened. I didn't see the outside world until five years later. By coincidence, I met again the woman who raised me. She was still playing the role of mother to orphaned homeless children. In contrast to my silence at the time, she hugged me as soon as she saw me and cried.
“I'm so glad you're still alive... really happy, Kayla.”
I couldn't tell her what I had become. After that meeting, I visited her from time to time. With her I felt like I was coming back “home”. Even if an orphan like me were to own a home at all. But the former leader of the union, who had his eye on me as his successor, would not allow us to meet.
“What is the use of talent if it is defective?”
He said coldly as he pressed the tip of his sword to my chest.
"You killed everyone you sent to kill that woman. Is she your real family or what?"
I didn't argue. I bowed my head and swore:
“I will never meet her again. Just… leave her in peace.”
“Do you think she will understand you? You, the one who became a murderer?”
He looked at me, covered in the blood of my comrades, with a look of genuine pity.
“Women are unreliable. Too emotional.”
He did not take his pitying gaze away from me.
“Kayla, your weakness will be the cause of your death one day.”
What did I say then? I don't remember exactly. I just know that I met her more times after that—coincidences disguised as fate. I still remember her laughter among the children.
(Emma.)
I whispered her name in my heart. She must now be back home, living happily with her real family. And she deserves it.
Sometimes, even the faintest shadows of memories are a consolation. With this in mind, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep, rare sleep.
“...Shit.”
Dawn was breaking outside the window.
“It wasn't a dream then.”
I sat on the bed and stared at the ceiling, which still seemed foreign to me. I opened the window, and cold air came in. I saw the servants busy, even though it was still early. An ordinary sight like this made my heart turmoil.
I've lived my life as a killer... and I've died as well. The guilt of murder faded long ago, and I have never felt so proud in my life. Maybe that's why I sometimes wondered: What would life be like if I lived a normal life?
“You're more romantic than you look, Kayla.”
Ian's voice blared in my head against my will. That bastard who killed me always called me a “romantic.” He often said that I was neither a killer nor a leader.
(That's probably why I loved him... because he was the only one who said I wasn't suitable, while everyone else insisted I was born a killer.)
But all that makes no sense now. I shook my head, expelling the empty memories, then turned to the simple dress hanging on the wall.
Yesterday, as I was eavesdropping on the servants, I learned a few things:
First: I came back to life a full year after my death. I don't know why or how.
Second: The real Rachel Brown got her position here at the recommendation of the previous nanny. But no one will answer me about what happened to that nanny. Whenever I mentioned Madame Conrad's name, people immediately changed the subject. All I know is that Rachel Brown was close to her.
Third: Security is more tight than usual due to the visit of a foreign king with his delegation.
I intended to sneak out to gather information about the organization and Ian, but the plan was postponed.
(The king of a new kingdom came with his knights...why now in particular?)
If I were caught sneaking around at such a time, I would only meet a hideous death on charges of treason or espionage. My current body isn't bad, but it's nothing compared to my previous body. So I won't risk it.
(I'll stay quiet now.)
She stared at the hanging dress.
(True. It's not raising children...it's a task.)
My job is to play the role of “nanny.” Not for one client, but for two: a bad-tempered prince and a troublesome princess.
(No matter how hard it is, I will endure. It is just a way to make money.)
When I gather enough and regain my strength, I will escape. I carefully arranged my dress, longing for the day when I would leave this place.
“Let's get started.”
I put on the dress and walked out confidently. It's my second day as the prince's nanny.
Perhaps because I spent yesterday running after the two brothers, I found the prince's room easily. Carrying the half-asleep Emilia, I entered the room, and Edwin looked at me in astonishment.
“What are you doing here at this time?”
His face said he didn't expect me to bother him so early. I did not expect a welcome from him, but his obvious displeasure disturbed me.
“It is normal for the nanny to come to wake up His Highness.”
"Weird. You haven't done that once in the last two weeks."
Even the maid who entered carrying a bowl of water looked at me curiously.
(So, the real Rachel Brown wasn't a good nanny either.)
I hid my confusion by lowering my head:
“I apologize. I was still getting used to this strange place, so I neglected my duties to Your Highness. From now on—”
“Enough.”
He gave a long yawn and then slowly got out of bed, apparently giving up.
“I want to take a shower.”
He stood in front of the bowl, half asleep, and then began to do something that I did not understand.
(What is he doing?)
He just dipped his fingertips in the water, then rubbed his eyes. He repeated this twice, then turned to me.
“I finished washing.”
…wash? What exactly wash? His eyes?
I sighed quietly. I never expected to teach a prince how to wash.
“You should wash behind the ears, too.”
But Edwin shook his head complainingly:
“I did it right!”
(By what standard exactly?)
She smiled a fake smile:
“Your Highness, usually the parts we don't see are the dirtiest. Like behind the ears and neck...”
“I'm not dirty!”
“And what makes you so sure?”
He raised his head proudly and shouted:
“Because I am a prince!”