Bailonz Street 13

Owen must have been an excellent uncle. That’s why the child had readily accepted the suddenly-appearing Owen and called him uncle. The family resemblance that anyone could see probably helped too.

Liam carefully chose his words to avoid startling the child.

“He entrusted you to us in his final moments.”

Lawrence pondered this with a serious expression, hand on his chin.

The child’s nose, ears, and cheeks were all red from the cold. While I was considering whether I should give him my cloak, Liam removed his coat. Though this would leave him with just his shirt and vest, Liam seemed unconcerned.

“It’s fine. This level of cold…”

“I’d feel better if you wore it.”

“Who are you people that Uncle would entrust such a thing to?”

Though the coat was large, it retained Liam’s high body temperature, making it perfect for chasing away the child’s chill. Lawrence’s eyes widened at the almost hot temperature.

Liam knelt on one knee before the child, rolling up the sleeves to adjust the length. They looked exactly like father and son. I watched them with a faint smile.

“We’re to be your godparents. She’s my wife.”

“Godparents?”

“That friend of mine insisted, ‘When I have a child, you must be the godfather.’ Would you prefer me to be your father instead?”

“…No. Godfather is better.”

His strict separation of personal and formal matters resembled Owen. Or perhaps it was a family trait of the Cassfires?

Either way, we couldn’t leave this small, solemn young Cassfire here. It was too cold, and the environment was too poor for a growing child.

I carefully asked.

“…Would you like to come with us?”

Lawrence shrugged lightly.

“Anywhere would be better than here, wouldn’t it?”

That was true enough.

Just then, Harold Stone came trembling with several documents. They were adoption papers, which Liam signed one by one methodically while glaring at him with obvious distaste. If looks could kill, Harold Stone would already be in a coffin. Liam would have kindly shoveled dirt onto that coffin too.

Practically throwing the pen back, Liam asked.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, yes! That’s all. You can take him now!”

His expression clearly begged us never to return.

That was the plan anyway. The next visitors would be Scotland Yard, not us.

There were plenty of reasons. If they searched the director’s office thoroughly, they’d probably find ledgers of sold children too. I was glad Liam would have one more thing to handle after I left.

We took Lawrence outside the orphanage and walked to a secluded spot where few people would see us. We were looking for a suitable place to use the passage.

The child walked holding my hand, his small head clearly working hard to think something through. His expression showed he didn’t trust us much.

For example…

Wondering if we might be kidnappers.

Liam seemed a bit hurt that his sudden godson distrusted him. So he decided to preempt the child.

Namely.

“Let me tell you something first, Lawrence.”

“Liam, you’re not…”

No, right? You’re not going to say that? Even if the child suspects us of kidnapping, saying the most shocking thing…

“I am a magician.”

Oh dear.

I closed my eyes tight and held my forehead.

“What?”

Lawrence’s expression then was truly like someone looking at a madman.

A magician? A magician in 19th century England!

Of course, looking at Owen’s notes about Lawrence, the child clearly had magical talent too. He must know this himself. That wasn’t something he could miss.

“Ah. You’re a magician too. The Cassfire family is one of England’s oldest magical families.”

“What?”

But this is too…

Direct an approach, isn’t it…

Thinking again, Liam Moore needed to completely revise his way of handling children.

Could a child who had lived in an orphanage all his life be happy to hear he was a “magician”? I didn’t think so.

Liam was gazing steadily at the confused Lawrence. His eyes showed regret about his dead friend and a very faint guilt. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he faced this child.

Liam’s lips opened slowly. Then, he spoke gruffly, as if talking to Owen.

“It’s hard to teach with just words without practical demonstration. Since I’m not a proper educator, I think we’ll move straight to practical lessons.”

Lawrence looked at Liam in horror before clinging to my knees. Unable to communicate with Liam, he seemed to have fled to me as I appeared relatively gentle.

“Ma’am! This person seems crazy!”

“Oh my. Does he? I suppose he does seem a bit that way?”

The madman who happened to be my future husband protested.

“Now see here, Mrs. Moore.”

“My goodness. Who are you? We’ve never met.”

He looked aggrieved, but what could he do? He shouldn’t have acted like a kidnapper to the child. Current Liam was trying so hard to appear calm that his handsome, pretty face had frozen like plaster.

“Am I being kidnapped?”

“No! Don’t say such horrible things!”

To rely on me in front of a madman. I briefly wondered whether I should apologize to Lawrence. I felt guilty. More precisely, it felt like someone was jabbing my conscience with a wool felt needle. Sorry. But I…

Ah, but at least I’m not a magician.

‘Well, he might have crossed some boundaries? But I’m just a civilian, and all I can do is roll around with a sword.’

The sound of someone snorting must be my imagination. Making such excuses internally, I comforted Lawrence.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Don’t worry. Auntie has a tight grip on that uncle. That uncle is Auntie’s lackey.”

“Lac…”

Liam muttered my choice of words as if dumbfounded. This man who had never been called such a thing was defeated in front of a child. It was even more amusing since this child was to become Liam Moore’s godson.

Anyway, I had somewhat saved Lawrence from the shock of being a “magician,” and he had largely dropped his guard against me.

My lackey husband came over and effortlessly picked up the tense Lawrence with one arm. Though he was a ten-year-old boy, Liam lifted him as if he weighed nothing. Then he wrapped his other arm around my waist.

“Ready?”

“For what?!”

“I’ll count to three.”

Looking back, it still sounded like something a kidnapper would say. Good Lawrence obediently started counting with “One,” but Liam Moore, that wretched man. I thought he’d at least wait for “Two.” But that was just my expectation.

Simultaneously with “One,” the ground beneath our feet rippled. Sensing something, Lawrence looked down and gasped.

“The ground!”

Now too familiar with this, I closed my eyes. No ordinary roller coaster could frighten me anymore. Like diving, our bodies sank down, and we heard the muffled sound of rushing water.

The sensation of cold water sweeping from head to toe was sharp. Beside us, Lawrence let out a brief scream before quickly falling silent. He must have encountered the lake’s alien landscape too. There was no need to check specifically. I knew this place.

After a time neither long nor short, when the sensation of surrounding water completely disappeared, I opened my eyes.

A cold night wind blew past us. We were in the middle of London Bridge. Lawrence, who had tightly grabbed Liam’s neck at the sudden change of scenery, looked around and exclaimed in wonder.

“Wow…”

“I told you. Your godfather is a real magician.”

The child nodded repeatedly in amazement. He nodded so quickly I worried he might get dizzy.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his innocence. At first, he had seemed too adult-like and sharp for his age, but his smile changed that impression entirely.

Liam adjusted his hold on the child and continued.

“Look. Something big happened in London. If magicians exist, other things must exist too, right?”

“You mean… like monsters?”

“Yes. Such monsters were everywhere.”

We could see unevolved fires and collapsed buildings. People were visible on the streets too. All Greenwich members. Every time they gestured, building fragments returned to their original positions, and broken windows reassembled themselves. It was like watching a well-orchestrated performance.

Lawrence watched this in a daze.

“…Your uncle prevented London from disappearing.”

“But Uncle said he was just a wealthy unemployed writer?”

“Oh, Lawrence. That’s prejudice. Even the unemployed can accomplish surprisingly impressive things.”

I just smiled quietly watching the two of them.