A Fake Heiress’s Guide to Love and Power novel Chapter 129

“Can you still walk?” Alessia reached out her hand. The girl was so clean and put–together that Six instinctively pulled his own hand back. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright, but his legs buckled, sending him stumbling backward. Alessia caught him just in time.

“Thanks,” Six muttered, leaning against the wall for support. “Sorry, I probably got you dirty.” He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to meet hers.

One look at Alessia, and it was obvious–she was the daughter of a happy, well–off family. Six could stand up to street thugs without flinching, but something about these spotless, well–dressed students always made him painfully aware of how out of place he was.

“Dirty? Where?” Her voice was clear and gentle, like fresh spring water.

Six finally looked up. Alessia was examining her school uniform, searching for any trace of dirt, but there wasn’t so much as a smudge.

He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out.

Voices echoed in his mind, a chaotic jumble of sneers and taunts from his past:

“Disgusting–where’d this little beggar come from?”

“Mom, he smells awful!”

“Poor kid, are you okay?”

“Get out of here!”

“Orphan, what a pity.”

“Wild child! Bastard!”

“His mother ran off. No one wants him!”

The cruel words and faces crowded his thoughts, making his head pound and his expression twist in pain.

“Hey, are you alright?” Alessia’s brow furrowed with concern as she watched Six flush red with fever.

She crouched down, rummaged through her backpack, and pulled out a silk scarf to bandage his wound.

“Hey, kid.” Alessia gently patted his cheek. Six mumbled something under his

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breath, eyes still closed, his breathing shallow and quick

She checked his forehead, sighed, then shifted her backpack to her front and with 2 resigned determination, hoisted him onto her back. Luckily, Six was so light–far smaller than most ten–year–olds–that a fourteen–year–old girl could carry him with

ease.

“Where’d you find this kid?” a woman’s voice called as they reached home.

“Picked him up.”

“Let me carry him. Go change your clothes.”

“I’ll just grab something from the store–I’ll be right back.”

Through a haze, Six heard two voices, one older and a bit gruff, the other clear and light as a bell, drifting in and out as if from another world…

When he finally woke again, he was lying somewhere completely unfamiliar. The blanket smelled faintly of sunshine, warm and comforting. Six’s eyelids fluttered shut, but a moment later he bolted upright.

He sat up too fast. The room spun and everything went dark–he collapsed back onto the bed.

“You’ve got a pretty high fever. Just stay put. As for your leg, it’s nothing serious. Rest for a few days and you’ll be fine.”

Six realized then that there was an old man standing at a table across the room, sorting through herbs with an old–fashioned balance scale.

“I don’t have any money,” Six said quietly.

He could tell without even looking that someone had changed his clothes. The fabric against his skin was soft and fit perfectly–not scratchy or ill–fitting, but… comfortable.

“Well, what should we do?” The old man’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Maybe you can stay and work for me, then.” He set the scale aside and walked over.

“I’m pretty strong. I can help you carry things,” Six offered, speaking more out of habit than hope. He stared up at the ceiling, his eyes hollow and distant.

“Strong, are you? You’re much skinnier than most kids your age. The cra. here are full of precious medicines–what if you drop one?” The old man, Xander, chuckled as he placed a damp cloth on Six’s forehead.

Six shut his eyes, his senses sharpening in the dark.

“I’m good in a fight.”

“This isn’t exactly the mafia,” Xander replied, only half–joking.

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“What should you do? Hmm, I’ll have to think about that.” Xander’s footsteps faded

as he walked away.

“Where are you going?”