2.6

The faint noises of the environment reached Brandon's ears. The almost silent footsteps of the mansion staff were heard all around. However, there were few people who stood in his way or found him as he walked towards his destination.

Her leather shoes tapped the wooden floor steadily and rhythmically. Her breathing was in sync with her gait. He walked quickly, but still close to normal, as if he wasn't in a hurry. It was close to the time he was in Ferion's room, but it wasn't urgent. Soon, there wasn't a single hint of urgency in his eyes as he blinked.

His countenance was indifferent, cold, unresponsive, but anyone who knew him well and observed him well would notice that his eyes had a slight glow and a slightly curve was on his lips. The morning's good mood still hadn't gone after the conversation with his friend. On the contrary, it only increased it. Seeing him after some time, who was sad and confused, helped his condition. His heart was lighter.

A sigh slipped from his lips effortlessly. It was something he started doing from the beginning of the week. Sometimes he found himself sighing at random times, even without obvious cause. Maybe it was just mental fatigue or the stress the whole situation is making him feel.

However, nothing could dampen his spirits. Phillip and Johannes were still out and he would go to work as usual, with no time to see them.

Upon remembering such a fact, he could not contain himself and it began to seem as if he was bouncing unconsciously. It was amazing that he didn't find out, as the spacing between each step was wider than before, but he didn't notice. The red threads vibrated with the slightly faster movements.

As soon as he reached his destination, he stopped. The well-crafted and refined wooden door was ahead of him. He knocked three times and waited. The wooden object opened and a black haired man stood behind the door. Brandon glanced at Ferion who appeared to be getting ready. A green blouse was evident and pants that were not common to wear at home, as this one was more well crafted.

The green eyes were wide-eyed and surprised that the other was dressed. It didn't take long for confusion to rise to Brandon's thoughts and he eyed it curiously. His young master and the person he helps at work would leave, instead of them continuing with their current schedule. Quickly, he assumed the earl had told them to go look somewhere.

"Where are we going, Ferion?" He questioned, watching the raven-haired man dig through his closet for a coat as he walked in and closed the door.

"For an orphanage." Ferion answered, without turning around. His hands moved from side to side, looking for an outfit that he liked. He didn't like to ask his employees for clothes or to run errands, as he could choose for himself. "My father asked us to go there today and inspect them."

"Will it be the same as the other day, when we went to the barracks?"

Memories of the day come to Brandon's mind. They went to the barracks, the place responsible for managing the soldiers who roam the city as a security measure and accept requests or complaints from residents, under orders from the Miller family and the government. The environment was well located in the center of the city and was a well-regarded and easy-to-identify location. There were more people than Brandon went along with the earl, but they were all soldiers who were away at war and wanted to have a little chat with their friends in their spare time.

Both went with the idea of ​​inspecting and having more details of what needed to be changed and what were the most urgent needs. They were also due to a scheduled visit they had made, something Ferion had quickly pinpointed when discussing the document with Brandon. And they were well received and met with the leader of the barracks about their purpose. It didn't take long and the work was done quickly and efficiently, as they were more for the purpose of observing and investigating the environment.

The mood in that place was cheerful, but there were some with sad eyes as they looked at their classmates. As if they had lost something precious, seeing the smiles of others. Brandon didn't know why they were the way they were, but he could guess why and a bitter taste came to his mouth at the thought of it.

"Yes, only this one is a little different." Ferion said, taking a brown coat from her closet. The coat was light in color, with white buttons and open flaps. The sewing of the garment was fine, showing that it was something expensive. All nobles' clothes had to be of some value, it was a matter of pride.

"It is not an institution under the wing of the family, but by the government. And also, it's supported by the mother, so the father wants us to look at it and check it out a little bit. As the lord's representatives, we will have enough authority to make an inspection there and do something if we find any irregularities not seen before." The Miller finished speaking, turning to the mirror as he slipped the cufflinks into his sleeves.

"I see..." The redhead nodded and studied the other.

The look of him with the outfit went down well. His serious appearance with the coat made him someone intellectual in his atmosphere. Brandon looked at him and approved of his choice. It would be good for a first time location. Making a good first impression was essential in any industry and place when meeting another person. It wasn't intimidating and it didn't seem overbearing, it was in that it was striking and smooth, but not enough to have its authority questioned.

Ferion runs his hands over the outfit and finishes the last details, before taking one last look at them and in the mirror. There was nothing wrong with it and it was presentable. The man shook his head and turned to Brandon, who was watching him.

"There is something wrong?" Ferion asks, with a confused look at Brandon. Was his outfit not a good choice? He liked the result and knew Brandon had a good eye, so he asked.

"No. Your clothes are fine." Brandon's words were no lie and Ferion knew it. He agreed with his thoughts and there was no reason for the other to have lied to him. Brandon was just waiting for the man to leave so he could go with him. "We will?"

"Yea."

With a nod, the two begin to head towards the bedroom exit, with Ferion leading the way. The servants bowed as they passed First Young Master and returned to their objectives. Even so, there were only a few and their footsteps made no apparent noise, but Brandon still heard such silent sounds.

It didn't take long for the two to be outside the mansion. The sun's rays lit up his hair, making Ferion's hair shiny, while Brandon's was a little orange from the yellowish hue, but it was still mostly red. The warm feeling Brandon felt was somehow comforting on the exposed areas of his skin.

The carriage appeared, not stopping them for long. The two horses in front and the coachman in the front seat with the reins. The carriage was different from the one Brandon had used to go with the lady, it was simpler, but it was still noticeable that it was from a nobleman, by the materials used and the care that it had. He and Ferion entered and sat in silence as the coachman gave the signal and the carriage began to move.

Brandon glanced at Ferion who was looking out the window, watching the others with a straight face. He did it all the time. It was clear that looking at each other's faces while traveling was tiring and tedious, so it was better to watch the outside, which was in direct motion. However, he realized that it was something greater than simply seeing the landscape. What Ferion did was see the lives of the people he had protected for the three years. To see them living their lives in an ordinary way, walking the streets and interacting, oblivious to the fact of the sacrifices the soldiers made.

Miller didn't regret it. He protected the peace of his county and country. However, in his heart he still blamed himself a little saying that he could have done better that way. But it was feelings and thoughts that could not change the past and its outcome, only torment him in his dreams and make his nights a little longer.

The redhead didn't know what Ferion was thinking, or what his expression conveyed. A deep look was seen by him, but not the extent of his thoughts. He couldn't guess or theorize from his observation, but there was meaning in that action. That, at least, he knew. His gaze turned outward as well.

The carriage stopped in front of an iron gate. Some pedestrians looked at the wooden vehicle, but soon looked away and went back to their world. The coachman got down from his seat and opened the door. Ferion left first and Brandon followed, both studying their new surroundings.

In a quick view, they managed to see the walls and the iron gate, as well as the building that was inside that land. However, once they looked in more detail, they noticed that the gates were worn and a little rusty, even peeling. The walls were scratched and in need of some repairs. It was a place that seemed to need support, just by looking at it.

Ferion narrowed his eyes at what he saw in front of him. He couldn't believe it was like this. From what his father, Count Ivan, said, his mother invested a good amount every month, so how was it like that? There should also be government support, which certainly shouldn't be small. To be in such a precarious state, it was visible that there was something wrong and something strange.

Brandon was surprised by what he saw too. He hadn't expected something like an orphanage, a place that took in children without parents, to be in such a state, especially in Miller territory. But his expression didn't betray him and he didn't express it clearly. He just stared at the building and then turned around noticing Ferion's suspicious face.

Footsteps were heard and a faint clank of metal was caught in Brandon's ears. He turned around noticing two riders coming from behind the carriage. One had dark blue hair and black colored eyes as well. The other, he recognized. It was Nott. His dark brown hair and kind face was coming towards him. A smile was graced as she looked at him. Sure enough, he had one too when looking at him.

What are the chances that he went to visit him and then ran into him at work? If that happened even after he hadn't come to see him, it would still be a welcome occurrence.

The two men with swords approached and took up their position, standing close to them. Nott almost sided with Brandon, however, he stayed a little further away, along with his colleague. It was the norm for a knight to accompany them, but they could not stand side by side. Brandon was only a helper, but it would still be strange if he was by his side, seeing as the redhead was following the First Young Master.

Brandon blinked and nodded, understanding Nott's reasoning. He turned to Ferion, realizing the man's gaze was on him. However, he didn't notice Nott's face tighten as he looked up at the building. Miller was curious about Brandon's reaction to seeing the brown haired knight, whose identity he didn't know. It must be one of the new knights recruited from the three years he'd been gone, he guessed.

Still, it was surprising that he managed to get something out of Brandon's face in such a short amount of time. The face that became indifferent compared to the past could express positive feelings easier than negative ones. That was a point to be noted.

"Let's go ahead." Ferion commanded, moving his feet towards the iron gate and pushing it gently. His company nodded and waited for him to enter first.

The worn iron gate creaked with a screeching noise as it moved. A clear indication of the lack of care for the gate. He was slightly dirty too. Ferion couldn't help but narrow his eyes even more as he looked at it. It seemed worse with each passing second.

Wiping his hand with a tissue, he walked inside. Brandon followed close behind and the riders followed suit. All looking around to acquire information about the space they have just entered. The ground has weeds growing and the grass is a little taller than acceptable. It was dangerous because children could fall if they ran into the front of the building. This did not go unnoticed by Ferion, who noticed a few more things upon entering the property.

The building, a rather large house, had peeling paint and visible cracks. The windows are a little dirty and the structure is precarious. No children in sight or anyone to come and say hello. Each time they approached, they saw even more defects that should not exist with the budget that the institution should have. Ferion had a few ideas of what was going on, but it seemed that one had been his favorite, because his instinct was pointing to her.

Finally, the group of men reached the entrance. They went up the two steps and stopped in front of the door. Unlike the bedroom door he'd seen earlier, or even the servants' entrance, the door that faced Brandon was an old, dull door, much like the gate and walls he'd seen since arriving at the hospital. orphanage. It was dark and had loose chips. It was shocking that this was the entrance. But if you think about it, not so much compared to the gate.

Ferion reached out and lifted her, his bone touching the old wooden door three times in a row, and he took a step back. He waited. The door opened and an old man with a mustache opened it. He was looking at them with cold eyes, but he changed his gaze to a sympathetic one once he realized who they were. The quick look at Ferion's clothing was enough to know that they were rich or noble and that was enough for him to change his mindset and treatment of the group that arrived.

However, this was not lost on Ferion, Brandon, or the two knights who followed behind, and they became alert with eyes that were trained on their master. In particular, Nott couldn't hide his slightly twisted face as he looked at the man who appeared in the doorway. Unpleasant feelings rose within her.

"Hello. How can I help you?" The man's voice was gentle. His voice was clear and audible in pitch. His expression was also smiling. Like a cunning fox hoping to gain something.

"We came to adopt." Ferion replied.

'What?'

Brandon turned to the young master and looked at him. A mixture of confusion and surprise rose in his mind at the sudden, previously unawakened speech, but he didn't voice it. A strange man was ahead of him, and he couldn't help but find him suspicious. He also straightened his back and looked at the figure that was in front of him, in a black outfit that looked like fine tailoring.

'Something about him smells like fish.'

Brandon didn't express it, his face as cold as ice, but he didn't like the man as soon as he saw him. He didn't look good, much less trustworthy, although he tried to keep up appearances as a nice old man.

"Oh my, this is wonderful." The mustache went up. "I'll take you to reception. My children will be ready soon, so I hope you don't mind waiting for a while."

"No way."

Ferion didn't break a straight face as he spoke to the man, but he managed to hide the distrust and suspicion he had towards him deep in his mind. His face didn't intimidate the man, who acted as if he hadn't noticed. Arrogance was natural for a noble and the way he spoke also indicated that he was one. The man couldn't contain himself and a gleam came into his eyes. It was greed.

"OK. Please follow me."

He made room in the doorway. The interior was seen and was spacious with dark areas due to sunlight entering through the opening. The man stepped back and allowed Ferion and company to enter this building that looked as bad from the outside as it did from the inside. However, there were still things to be saved, as if they were hidden, there were no cracks or scratches on the walls. Not a single detail was out of place.

How can a place that is run down on the outside be so well maintained on the inside? That seemed unrealistic and even more suspicious of the man.

The man with the mustache and white hair closed the door and led them. The corridors were with some portraits and some details in strange positions, The furniture also looked used and scratches were seen in the wood. Brandon eyed everything intently as Ferion walked forward, his gaze on the unknown man.