2 Adoption
Two days had passed while the newborn merely survived... well, he was a newborn; it's not like he could do much, right?
I mean, besides eating and attending to his needs, he just observed his surroundings.
He quickly understood that he was in an orphanage. He also understood he was in Romania, a European country where the main language spoken was Romanian. He didn't understand anything spoken to him or around him, but he grasped some basic things.
But the truth was far from that; he wasn't really in the Romania he knew from Earth's geography, and they weren't speaking Romanian...
Though unable to speak, he could still read in English, and often, the newspaper left on the table while Margarete fed him contained writings in traditional American English.
His last memory from his previous life was around January 2019, when he was 21. He no longer remembered his name or his actual memories, only basic knowledge about the reality he lived. For instance:
He could recall what it was like to ride a bicycle, but he couldn't remember how he learned or when.
He remained motionless in the old woman's embrace while watching the children play in the garden with a worn-out and patched-up ball. It truly was a poor orphanage.
He wanted to grow up quickly to leave this place, but time didn't flow as he wished... it seemed like an eternity and simultaneously too fast; it was all too confusing.
Several days passed, and despite the boredom, it seemed his perception of time had changed. He had arrived at the orphanage eight days ago, yet he felt like it had been only four or even less.
He came to the conclusion that a baby's perception of time differs from that of a developed human; the time he spent sleeping was like a "timeskip," as if he didn't feel that he slept, just transitioning his view to a moment when he woke up, as if sleep time didn't exist.
And being a baby, this was amplified, as babies spend most of their time asleep.
The rainy times returned, and one day he felt that same bad feeling all over again, just like the day he was abandoned by whoever had him.
He lay on the bed, alone, staring at the ceiling. Then he heard a noise coming from downstairs, a characteristic sound the front door made when someone entered.
"We have visitors?" He reached this conclusion, and his assumptions were confirmed when Margarete climbed the stairs and picked him up.
"Let's go, little one," Margarete said. This time he understood what she said because, for the first time, she was speaking in English, which initially startled him; she had never spoken like that before.
She descended the stairs with the boy in her arms, in a way that he could see what was in front of him.
When she descended the stairs completely, he came face-to-face with a woman with long, silky hair the color of scarlet blood, cascading down to her waist.
He looked directly into the woman's eyes, her piercing and deep eyes enchanting him slightly; even her eyes were bright red like two pieces of rubies.
She was tall, very tall for a woman. Around 5'11'' with a well-defined and alluring body like a deadly weapon. She wore a black dress that accentuated all her curves.
The woman looked directly into the child's eyes, and the child didn't look away; on the contrary, the more they stared, the more interested the woman became.
"Lady Valentina, this is the baby that was recently abandoned, as I informed you. I thought he fits your criteria. I hope you're interested in adopting him," Margarete said in a respectful tone, and the boy looked at the woman again.
"Is she going to be my mother in this life?" He murmured mentally while looking at the celestial beauty before him.
"Margarete, you've received a disguised blessing recently," Valentina said as she approached Margarete, who felt a chill down her spine with every step Valentina took.
"Let me hold him," Valentina ordered as the old woman handed the tiny newborn into her arms.
"Hm..." She carefully examined the little boy with her eyes, and the boy, in turn, felt as if he were going through a very difficult test.
"What are you looking at, Miss Celestial Beauty?" the boy grew curious, then soon felt warmth enveloping his entire skin.
The woman embraced him, feeling him entirely. For a second, the boy closed his eyes and basked in the warmth.
"How can such a pale woman be so warm?" He thought while still keeping his eyes closed.
"Margarete," Valentina said as she held the child. "That should be enough." She handed over a small paper.
"Yes!" Margarete exclaimed, then realized her enthusiasm.
"Um... yes, it's enough, Lady Valentina," she corrected herself with a smile on her face. Valentina appraised the old lady as she turned and walked out the front door.
"Let's go, little one," she said as she walked out of the house. As she exited, a maid with brown hair awaited her.
"Is this the new employee of our Clan, Lady Valentina?" the maid asked curiously, looking at the child who seemed to be sleeping in Valentina's arms, the child's head looking backward over Valentina's shoulder.
'Clan?' the boy thought as he was just listening to the words.
"No, he will be my son," she commented and turned him toward the maid who was incredulous at the unexpected situation.
"L-Lady Valentina, did I hear correctly?" She stammered as she followed her mistress. "What do you mean, your son?" She asked again incredulously.
"That's what you heard; I will adopt him as my son," Valentina replied, and suddenly a portal appeared in front of her.
'What do you mean, a portal?' the boy exclaimed as he looked at the window connected to another world. Before the boy could understand what was happening, he fell asleep... Any drastic change in his mood like this could have caused something like that, just the stress from thinking like this made him faint... but in reality, they thought he was just sleeping.
"Oh? He fell asleep. Must be a newborn thing, right, Skyla?" Valentina asked surprised the maid.
'How do you adopt a child without knowing how to raise one?' Skyla exclaimed in her thoughts, something she would never say in front of Valentina Scarlet... the Devastating Scarlet.
