My Ex-Girlfriend Was Appointed as a Knight Commander

Chapter 49

The orphanage, the only one in the capital, had no name. Everyone simply referred to it as "the orphanage." Even its founder had never given it a formal name.

Before the orphanage was established, orphans wandering the streets of the capital faced grim fates. The unlucky ones were kidnapped by criminals lurking in the alleys, while the fortunate might be taken in by a kind shopkeeper or a noble. For those who fell outside of either category, they typically turned to pickpocketing nobles and merchants, or were found frozen to death on the cold winter streets.

The only institution that showed any interest in saving people was the church. A pastor, having secured a large donation from a noble, purchased a piece of land on the outskirts of the capital and built a monastery. The monastery began taking in orphaned children one by one.

The building was simple, with stones piled high and a roof atop it. The only indication that it had been built by the church was the small cross hanging above the orphanage's front door.

Thanks to the orphanage, the number of orphans dying in the streets of the capital diminished, and fewer fell into the clutches of criminal organizations. Noblewomen, who were interested in adopting children, would come to the orphanage to select one that suited their preferences.

Christine was one of the lucky ones.

Like most orphans, she had no memory of her origins, nor was she curious about them. She could have been the child of a common prostitute or born of an illicit relationship between a noble and a commoner. Perhaps she was simply a child from a family that could no longer afford to raise her.

What mattered to her was that she had no way of knowing who her biological parents were, and that it was the head nun of the orphanage and the pastor who occasionally visited that had raised her.

"Well, maybe flowers aren’t the best idea."

"She’ll like whatever you bring," Maxim said.

Christine murmured to herself as she examined the flowers in the shop.

"Today, the lavender is blooming beautifully," said the florist, a kind woman, offering a potted plant with delicate purple blossoms hanging like small bells. Christine instinctively accepted the pot.

"It’s difficult to care for, but if you nurture it with love, the fragrance will be amazing."

Christine stared at the lavender’s swaying tips.

"I’ll take this one," she finally said, and with that, she found herself buying the lavender. Holding the pot, she tilted her head, slightly troubled.

"It’s pretty, isn’t it? I’m sure the head nun will like it," Maxim remarked, glancing at the flowers.

"Well, I already bought it, so there’s no going back. I hope she’ll really like it..."

Christine sighed deeply and began walking down the street, the lavender petals swaying gently with her steps.

"You don’t have to come along, really. I know I asked you to come, but..."

She hesitated, turning to Maxim.

"You say that, knowing full well what you’re doing."

"No, it’s fine. Let’s just go."

Christine puffed out her cheeks in mild annoyance at Maxim’s response.

After about a thirty-minute walk from the city center, they arrived at a quiet residential area. The orphanage stood on the outskirts of the peaceful neighborhood. Passing a wagon loaded with milk cans and the barking of large dogs echoing from an alley, the orphanage finally came into view.

In front of the orphanage was a field of dandelions. Among the yellow blooms, children were blowing on white, fluffy dandelion seeds, sending them adrift in the breeze. Christine watched the innocent scene with a nostalgic expression.

"Christine, look! It’s Christine!" one of the running children shouted, noticing her from afar. Christine smiled warmly and waved at the child. Soon, other children who had been blowing dandelion seeds began calling out her name in their high-pitched voices.

"Christine!"

"Sister Christine!"

The children rushed toward her in a flurry. Maxim, backing away slowly at the sight, watched as Christine cheerfully greeted them.

"Have you all been well?" she asked, bending down to meet them.

The children voiced their playful complaints.

"Why did it take you so long to come back?"

"Sister, yesterday the head nun..."

"Look what I found!"

As Christine soothed the children, the orphanage’s front door creaked open.

There was a single apple tree in the middle of the dandelion field, with a few unripe apples hanging from its branches. Maxim wandered over to it before sitting down beneath its shade.

It was peaceful.

Maxim closed his eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over him. None of it felt real—neither the no-man’s land, his curse, the events with Marion and Borden, nor Teodora.

Red-tinted clouds drifted across the sky. The orphanage door suddenly opened, and the head nun stepped outside, signaling that the evening prayer had ended. Maxim stood up, brushing off his pants as the nun approached.

"You were out here," she said, and Maxim leaned against the apple tree, slightly embarrassed.

"Is the prayer over?"

"Yes. Christine is inside, talking with the children."

The nun gestured toward the orphanage. Maxim nodded but made no move to go back inside. He sighed quietly. The nun, as if understanding his reluctance, smiled kindly.

"Why don’t we talk for a moment?" she suggested, sitting down across from him without hesitation. Maxim found her down-to-earth attitude refreshing.

"I don’t have faith. Does that bother you?"

"I was never taught to shun those without faith. If I had been, I probably would have lost my own faith long ago."

She smiled warmly at him.

"You wouldn’t mind if we talked about Christine, would you?"

The nun’s voice was gentle and clear, and Maxim couldn’t help but laugh as he nodded.

"Christine was left at this orphanage as a baby," the nun began, reminiscing.

"I was still a novice nun back then. I didn’t officially take over as head until Christine was a bit older."

"Was she a troublemaker?" Maxim asked, smiling.

The head nun shook her head, laughing.

"Surprisingly, no. Christine was quite mature for her age. She didn’t speak much and preferred to think by herself."

Perhaps that’s why she discovered her magic, the nun mused, closing her eyes briefly.

"Did she awaken her magic here?"

The nun shook her head.

"Not exactly. According to the mages who came for her, she awakened mana at a very early age, with no assistance. They said she didn’t have any special circumstances, but she had remarkable talent. Honestly, I don’t really understand it all."

There’s always a reason behind someone being called a genius, Maxim thought, finding this new information about Christine quite interesting.

"I only took care of Christine for a few short years. The Mage Tower took her in shortly after."

The nun shrugged, her expression turning wistful as she looked down.

"A few years after she left, the church’s finances took a downturn. It became difficult to manage the orphanage, but then, a few years ago, Christine suddenly resolved all of our financial problems. She paid off our debts and even gave us enough to stay afloat for years."

"Christine did that?"

"I have no idea where she got the money from, but she didn’t give us a chance to refuse. Even when I said we couldn’t accept it, she left the money anyway."

The nun’s smile turned bittersweet.

"It’s a bit shameful, isn’t it? That we couldn’t run the orphanage without relying on her. I wonder if Christine pushed herself too hard for our sake."

Maxim squinted slightly, gazing at the orphanage. He had known Christine for years, but it seemed there was still so much about her that he didn’t know.

From the window, Christine gazed silently at Maxim, who was sitting beneath the apple tree. When the head nun approached him, he stood awkwardly, and they began talking. Being here, Christine was always reminded of the enormous debt she owed.

If she had refused the offer from that noble who sought her out at the Mage Tower, would she have been able to live with more peace of mind? Or had she only managed to avoid the tragedies that befell Maxim?

Christine bit her lip.