After all the children had finished their porridge, the steward arrived with a team bringing clothes and shoes.
The newly hired steward for the residence was quite capable. He had personally visited several tailor shops in the middle districts, only to find that most ready-made clothes were unsuitable for children and overpriced. Instead, he opted to purchase a large number of thick blankets and had the shop assistants deliver them.
Wrapped around the body and secured with ropes, these blankets would serve as makeshift clothing. After all, children from impoverished families weren't picky about appearances—warmth was all that mattered.
As for shoes, they were more complicated than clothes. Considering these people would eventually follow his master back to the County of Sardinson, the shoes had to fit properly.
In this era of purely handmade goods, no single shoemaker had enough stock on hand. The steward visited several shops, negotiated prices, paid deposits, and took away their existing inventory along with apprentices. The apprentices would accompany him to fit the children, keeping what fit and returning the rest for custom orders.
Naturally, some children would have to endure cold feet for a while. The steward didn't overlook this detail—he had deliberately bought extra rough, flawed blankets at a discount, cutting them into strips to wrap around their feet for insulation.
Having just filled their stomachs and finally feeling some warmth, the children never expected such generosity to continue.
They were instructed to line up again, this time to receive blankets and shoes. Those at the front were given leather shoes with wooden soles and fur lining, warming their frostbitten, swollen feet—though the sudden heat also made their chilblains itch painfully, a discomfort they were long accustomed to.
This was likely the first time they had ever worn such fine shoes.
Those further back in line weren't as fortunate. The suitable sizes had already been claimed, leaving them with shoes slightly too large or, for some, entirely unusable. These had to make do with blanket strips wrapped around their feet before stuffing them back into their tattered old shoes.
Yet no one complained. They had heard the distributors say that those without proper shoes would receive theirs later.
Penny was among those distributing the blankets and shoes. She noticed the chilblains on the children's hands and feet—a common affliction among the lower classes, one that was difficult to cure once contracted. She had suffered the same until Wei Wei introduced a remedy: mashed ginger soaked in liquor for three days, then applied to the affected areas for two weeks. This had nearly eradicated chilblains among the residents of Sardinson Castle.
Moreover, as Wei Wei's maid, Penny rarely had to handle cold water anymore. Combined with proper warmth, she had completely left chilblains behind.
But she still remembered the misery they brought.
Making a mental note, Penny decided to ask her mistress later whether medicine could be provided for these children.
She had a vague sense that Wei Wei had some special plans for them.
Now equipped with blankets and shoes, the children became even more docile. Even those who had considered escaping earlier now hesitated. Hank was among them. Wrapped in a blanket and wearing new shoes, he held his younger brother's hand and waited quietly for further instructions.
"Brother, we're not going back, are we?" Kimmy, just over seven and sheltered by Hank, retained some childish innocence despite his maturity. With warm food in his belly and cozy blankets and shoes, he felt winter could be comfortable for the first time.
He wanted this life—no more obeying cruel adults in the lower districts, no more fearing starvation or freezing to death.
"Yeah, we're not going back." At least not for now.
Distracted, Hank was still processing what he had overheard earlier—that they would be given new clothes later. If true, this alone was enough to make him stay put for now.
Suddenly, Hank sensed someone watching him. Turning, he locked eyes with a familiar face—another orphan controlled by their organization. They weren't close, but in this situation, forming a small alliance made sense.
"So, are you planning to run?" the boy whispered, sidling up to him.
Uncertain of his intentions, Hank replied cautiously, "Escaping now would mean getting caught."
The other boy smirked. "If they keep treating us like this, I'm not going anywhere."
As orphans, they all knew how harsh life outside was. Who wouldn't want food and warmth? Given how well they were being treated now, only a fool would leave.
Seeing they shared the same thoughts, Hank said nothing, merely tightening his grip on Kimmy's hand.
Once all the children had received blankets and shoes, and those without proper footwear had their sizes recorded, the steward settled accounts with the apprentices. Returning the ill-fitting shoes and confirming delivery dates for the rest, he paid and returned to the earl's residence.
Penny and the other maids stayed behind to care for the children, awaiting further instructions.
Meanwhile, Felix had already borrowed the manor from Allen, along with a group of men to guard it. With limited manpower of his own, he had no choice—earning him some teasing from Allen.
"This isn't like you. Your fiancée put you up to this, didn't she?"
Felix smiled, unashamed and even proud.
After laughing, Allen added, "I can lend you the men, but how will you transport all those people back to Sardinson? Winter roads are treacherous."
Felix had already considered this. "Hire carts and mercenaries for escort. We'll take it slow." It would just take more time and effort.
"Mercenaries?" Allen gaped. "You're hiring them to escort paupers? Isn't that too extravagant?"
The cost of mercenaries far exceeded the price paid for serfs.
Felix "Extremely Wealthy" Williams: "I have other work for them. Escorting those people is just incidental."
This was true. Sardinson was short-handed. While Felix could confer knighthoods and train soldiers, the former had limits, and the latter took time. Hiring reputable mercenary bands for temporary or even long-term service was common among nobles.
If collaborations went well, absorption into his forces was possible.
Hearing this, Allen offered, "Need recommendations for mercenary bands?"
"No need. You forget I spent years in the capital too." Felix chuckled. "I know exactly who's who among them."
Many large mercenary groups had noble backing—precisely the kind Felix wanted to avoid. He already had a few smaller, well-regarded bands in mind and saw this as an opportunity to approach them.
With the manor and men secured, Felix had one of Allen's attendants deliver word to Penny, instructing her to move the children outside the city.
Meanwhile, Penny had consulted the cooks at the riverside and found several suitable women to care for and feed the children. The maids were only temporary helpers; long-term caretakers were needed.
Winter was hard on ordinary folk, and the wages offered by the Williams family were generous. Many would gladly take the job, even with doubled workloads.
Had they not been working by the river, the cooks might have volunteered themselves. Instead, they recommended relatives and neighbors. After interviewing them, Penny and the other maids selected five capable women.
"Go pack your things. You'll come with us later."
When the new hires returned with their belongings, Allen's attendant arrived with the relocation orders. The women and children were loaded onto carts and transported outside the city—along with the large pot, wooden utensils, and other supplies.
The children grew restless during the journey, but touching their blankets and recalling their full stomachs, they quieted down.
The steward had promised them another meal upon arrival.
Allen's manor wasn't far from the city. By the time they arrived, soldiers were already stationed around it. The Williams' staff didn't need to manage them; Penny and the others only had to settle the children.
The elderly caretakers, though reluctant, let everyone in.
Organizing them was another hectic task. Though old, the manor was sturdy, with no leaks or drafts. However, sleeping quarters were limited. Not daring to stuff the grimy children into proper rooms, Penny had them sleep on the carpeted drawing-room floor. With the fireplace blazing and their blankets for warmth, they were far more comfortable than in their drafty hovels.
The kitchen, regularly used by the caretakers, was cleaner than the rest of the house. The newly hired women soon prepared dinner—more barley porridge, this time in larger portions to fill the children's stomachs. They would eat the same.
A pot of ginger tea was also brewed as a precaution against illness. After the earlier meal and rest, once the children's stomachs could handle liquids again, each was forced to drink a bowl. The spicy bitterness made them grimace, but knowing it was good for them, they gulped it down.
With everything arranged, Penny sent the other maids back, intending to stay overnight herself.
She remembered Kinsley's warning about possible escapes and wouldn't rest easy without supervision.
But Penny worried needlessly. The children, finding their current conditions heavenly, had no desire to leave. Moreover, the soldiers at the gates made escape impossible—and they knew recapture would mean losing these comforts.
These street-smart children valued their new life too much to jeopardize it. At night, the slightest noise would make someone open their eyes, checking that no one was trying to flee before going back to sleep.
As for Penny? Exhausted, she had long succumbed to sleep in a fireside armchair, wrapped in a blanket.
She hadn't pulled an all-nighter in ages—how could she resist Morpheus' call?
The next morning, Qin arrived to take over.
Rubbing her stiff neck, Penny asked, "Why you? Don't you have other duties?"
"Miss Wei sent me. She said since these children will be in the capital for a while, they might as well learn something useful."
Qin, literate even before becoming a maid and trained in math by Wei Wei, was perfectly suited to teach them basic reading and arithmetic.
Though puzzled by the necessity, Qin would follow orders without question.
Hearing they were to be educated, Penny was stunned. She had been illiterate until noticing Wei Wei's favor toward Qin and secretly studying. Now, she could manage everyday writing.
But teaching future serfs? Was it necessary?
Baffled, Penny could only sigh. "Miss does value literacy."
Qin nodded. "As she always says, knowledge is power."
After exchanging a few more words and relaying instructions, Penny returned to report to Wei Wei.
Over the following days, more children trickled in. Unlike the first batch, their families were reluctant—but for the sake of survival, sacrifices had to be made.
Compared to the initial predominance of girls, later arrivals included more boys. Though meant to spend their final days with their families, the provision of food and warmth kept them from leaving.
Eventually, the number swelled to over two hundred, all crammed into the manor. Latecomers slept in hallways and spare rooms—nighttime bathroom trips risked stepping on someone.
Confined indoors during the day, none complained. They remained quiet and orderly, easily managed by Qin alone.
They cherished the chance to learn. Once lessons began, the crowded hall fell silent except for Qin's voice.
Wei Wei visited once to confirm Qin's capability, then left the children in her and Penny's hands—one teaching, the other handling logistics, their teamwork seamless.
Beyond these individually sold children, Kinsley's team had recruited nearly five hundred more, mostly families sold as units. Single adults were rare—they could fend for themselves and did not need to become serfs.
Thus, of the seven hundred total, nearly half were children. Those with families were mostly very young, some even infants—only accepted as part of the package deal.
"The recruitment's almost done. Should we send them ahead or have them travel back with us?" Wei Wei held a ledger of expenses. The seven hundred had cost less than seven hundred gold—different prices made the accounting messy. With Qin absent, Wei Wei had to tally it herself.
Felix: "I've negotiated with several mercenary bands. They'll escort the group back first."
Wei Wei: "Did you notify Sardinson? Can they handle such a sudden influx?"
Felix: "Relax, I made arrangements before we left. They'll be accommodated."
He had planned to bring people back from the start—preparations were in place.
"Then it's your call." Wei Wei changed the subject. "Any news from the river?"
Felix's expression darkened at the mention of the kidnappers. "Nothing. But it's almost certain the remaining four are alive."
Though the evidence was clear, the king was leaning toward dropping the investigation. Once the team disbanded and the central district's gates reopened, the four would likely escape for good.
They might already be gone.
Still, Felix had made progress. His men had identified boats on the river around the time of the second body's discovery and traced the identities of the two dead men—leading to the remaining four. Though false identities were possible, the leads were strong.
"I've sent their descriptions to the city guard for updated warrants and increased the bounty. They'll be found eventually."
As for the mastermind, Felix had narrowed it down to three suspects.
"Three families are under suspicion, but I can't pinpoint which one's behind it."
Wei Wei's curiosity was piqued. "Who are they?"
First was the Beresford family. Their patriarch, also an earl, ruled a prosperous territory—unlike Felix's border county.
Second was the Cliffords, a baronial family. The head was the king's privy seal keeper, responsible for his seal and occasionally drafting documents. Though currently a household position, it would evolve into the realm's chief minister—making the Cliffords influential despite their modest title.
The last suspect was familiar to Wei Wei: Baron Clive, the treasury secretary, whose daughter had a crush on Felix and saw Wei Wei as a rival.
"The Clives too?" Wei Wei was surprised. She had ruled the daughter out. "Was I wrong? Did she hire kidnappers to eliminate a love rival?"
But if planned before the salon, Miss Jessica Clive's jealousy was extreme.
"While I'm flattered by your vigilance, probably not." Felix shrugged—a gesture learned from Wei Wei. "I doubt she could orchestrate such a plot."
Wei Wei shot him a look. "You know her well, huh?"
Realizing his misstep, Felix swiftly changed topics. "The suspicion stems from their businesses conflicting with ours."
All three families traded in spices—not culinary ones, but incense. The rise of essential oils had severely impacted their profits.
"Additionally, they all deal in cosmetics. The products you made for Queen Mirabelle might also be a motive."
All three had proposed collaborations, which Felix declined. Knowing their patriarchs held grudges, resentment was likely.
Capturing Wei Wei alive would secure not just essential oil recipes but cosmetics formulas—far more lucrative than partnerships in many eyes.
As for retaliation? Those underestimating border nobles wouldn't care. With valuable formulas and market dominance, Felix's influence would wane, and the king's favor would shift. Why fear revenge then?
Wei Wei: "This evidence alone isn't enough to confirm their guilt, is it?"
"Of course not. My men also investigated boats near the river during that time, eliminating others until these three remained."
"Also, two of the kidnappers had ties to the Beresfords and Clives. The missing four were mercenaries, and all three families had contacted their bands beforehand. They're the prime suspects."
Alternatively, all three might have planned attacks, with one acting first.
"Regardless, since we can't determine the culprit yet, we'll treat all three as suspects and investigate further."