Looking at Rafi’s serious face, the man, who couldn’t remember his name, nodded.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have anyone to take care of you? Why were you alone in the forest when it was raining?”

He frowned, attempting to recall the situation.

His face still remained beautiful even as he made such an expression. Because of his serious expression, he looked his age, not five or six, making Rafi’s heart momentarily flutter.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s your name? What about your family?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t remember?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“…”

Haah.

Rafi sighed, gathering his thoughts while looking at the forest beauty wearing his pajama pants. The pajamas were too loose for him and had to be tied tight to his lower body.

He would have been a nobleman or an aristocrat, judging by his actions and appearance. Except for his back, there were no significant wounds on his body. His hands and nails were very clean, his skin soft like a baby’s, and his dazzling silver hair well trimmed.

It was evident that he had lived a comfortable and rich life.

If so, he must have come to the forest and somehow had an unexpected accident due to the heavy rain. He would have wandered through the forest injured, moving away from his party. Rafi figured that would be the most reasonable conclusion.

“Someone will come for you.”

If he was from a noble family and had been well cared for, someone would definitely come to find him.

Rafi, whose face had hardened, smiled at him reassuringly.

“Don’t worry too much. You’ll be able to go back home.”

“… ”

Slowly, the man’s stiff expression loosened. The sides of his mouth stretched as if mimicking Rafi.

Rafi interpreted his expression as relief.

“In the meantime, I’ll take care of you.”

He seemed relieved, like a child opening up his heart, and Rafi spoke without realizing it.

It was only a few days after the witch’s tomb was built. He had no time to be sad, having suddenly met a disturbance in the form of a child.

He was glad he had something to do.

* * *

But there was much more to do than expected.

“Give me more. More…”

Rafi looked at the hand brazenly holding out the bowl for more even after polishing off the soup,

His hands, though shameless, were beautiful. With their white, long, and clean fingers,Rafi, who had never seen a nobleman since he was born, could only think that they belonged to a true noble.

They were shameless and determined, yet elegant and alluring. Hours could pass just from watching the movements of his hands.

…Rafi, that’s a little…

No. He needed to get a hold of himself.

He had a lot to do.

Rafi took his eyes off of his picturesque hands.

“You eat a lot.”

Rafi stood up from his chair. He couldn’t even say anything about being too hungry–since the man was big, he would obviously need to eat more.

“Wait a minute. I’ll make something for you.”

He didn’t have any special ingredients, but he figured he could make pancakes with the flour he had along with the honey and butter he found in his cabinet. Even if the pancake was rough, it would be made edible with the honey and sugar. Seeing that the man could finish the roughly assembled soup made with the cottage’s supplies, he seemed not to have a very picky taste, even if he was a noble.

“I’ll make some pancakes. Can you eat it?”

“Pancakes…I don’t know. What is it?”

“Oh. Of course…”

“But I’m sure I can eat it,” the man interrupted, nodding quickly before Rafi could suggest something else. He glanced over at Rafi’s abandoned soup bowl, still half-full.

Rafi smiled. He had been like that too, at that age.

When he was taken in as a newborn baby, the witch had already become  quite old. Rafi wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he was still a boy. After learning to walk, he went around and caused accidents one by one.

Back then, the witch burst into a rage whenever her knees hurt, complaining that her knees were worn out because of him. Even touching the food he was eating would subject him to scrutiny, and one day he heard the witch hold on to Harion and complain over a drink.

He was so scared of her that he couldn’t even eat or drink properly. That’s how the witch was.

Compared to the witch’s complaints about knees and alcohol, gifting soup felt nice.

“You can eat more.”

Rafi pushed his bowl of soup to him. He looked at the soup, glanced back at Rafi, and slowly lifted the bowl to his lips.

“It’s good.”

“That’s a relief.”

Ah, that’s really…

His hands weren’t the only problem. There was the matter of his tongue, uselessly distracting in its small movements.

Was he crazy? He couldn’t believe he was staring at a kid.

Rafi quickly turned his view away and let his eyes sweep the room

It’s because he looks so pretty. Besides, he’s still…

What am I even talking about? It’s like I’m blaming him.

No matter how much he thought about it, it was much too late for his face to develop any further. His caregivers must have suffered a lot.