Melody pieced things together at once. Generally, higher prices meant a surging economy. She knew of the staging service and of the prince’s contributions to the Commerce Guild, so it was easy enough to trace the connection between that and the orphanage’s plight. Better roads led to increased travel, which meant more goods and services flowing through the city, and increased support for the unemployed meant more jobs, meant fewer bankruptcies, meant a better economy. Usually a good thing, but not for the orphanage.
Simply put, inflation meant business boomed, people wanted more of a thing, more people wanting more of a thing meant more people willing to pay more for that thing, demand surpassed supply, and prices rose to offset that demand. But an orphanage was not a business. It had no profits, and this particular institution’s funding had been dwindling. As a result, the rapidly expanding economy had ironically accelerated its demise.
“I don’t like to think about how bad things could have been,” the sister went on. “It’s a sad truth that we often see the highest number of new arrivals during times like these, and without the means to accommodate them, well, they’ll always have a place to go as long as I live and breathe, but…”
Class disparity, Melody surmised.
For every light there was a shadow. Economic success did not affect all people equally. Orphanages wouldn’t be the only ones to struggle against the financial whiplash, and anyone who missed out on a piece of the pie would be left behind by the soaring price of living, families not least of all. Orphans were a matter of course.
“All those nights with grumbling tummies,” Annabelle mused. “Even one meal a day was a luxury, and no one from the palace would hear our appeals. The church was stretched thin as it was. It was trying. Truly harsh times.”
The nun clasped her hands tightly atop the table. Melody wrapped hers around them. Stories like this were the hardest to hear. There was always someone suffering in the dark in ways you could never know or do anything about.
Annabelle sensed her compassion and smiled. “That’s when Anna came. It was, oh, three years ago now I think?”
“She came here? That long ago?”
“Like a storm, just like today. With food, just like today. Same words too. ‘These are for you.’”
“She is rather terse at times, isn’t she?”
“That she is.” The sister chuckled as she reflected.
Melody joined her, vividly recreating the scene in her mind.
Then Annabelle lowered her gaze. “Some people scoff at such acts of kindness. They question what good it really does while the root cause of the suffering goes unaddressed. But I can tell you, the relief those rations brought us—it meant the world. A day’s worth of meals was a feast at the time.”
“That’s why the children love her so much, isn’t it?”
“Partly, yes. Though let’s not forget she’s our goddess for a reason.”
“Why is that?”
“The very next day after her visit, we received another visitor. A noblewoman.”
“Oh? Who exactly?” Melody gasped, answering her own question.
“Lady Anna-Marie, of the esteemed House Victillium.”
Nobles did not make a habit of popping in on orphanages at random. A visit from aristocracy necessitated an appropriate welcome, the sort that a poor institution like this simply couldn’t accommodate. Yet Anna-Marie Victillium had come anyway, boldly and unabashedly.
“The shock that must have given you,” Melody said.
“Oh, it did. We’d never once been graced by the marquess’s presence, and yet we were suddenly playing host to His Lordship’s daughter. Frankly, I couldn’t believe my eyes. So perhaps I wasn’t shocked so much as utterly incredulous.” Sister Annabelle laughed. “But what did shock me, without a doubt, was the generous donation she left for us.”
She’d called it “relief,” and it included food, clothing, and a number of daily necessities.
“It was as if she knew exactly what we needed and in what amounts,” Annabelle said. She described the desperately needed renovations Anna-Marie had overseen, and she described her incredulity at the whole affair. What Anna-Marie did wasn’t mere “relief.” It was salvation.
After giving the orphanage one final, thorough look-through, Anna-Marie left. Just like that. Off to her next project.
“She did the same for other orphanages?” Melody asked.
“That she did. And that’s not the only windfall that came to us.”
Days after Anna-Marie’s visit, they received word from a messenger from the palace concerning the orphanage’s funding. It turned out the very individual who was supposed to be distributing the kingdom’s subsidies was instead embezzling them, siphoning them away for years. Following the criminal’s arrest, the kingdom planned to reappropriate the funds and redistribute them to the institutions waiting for them. Furthermore, the orphanage could expect increased funding in the future, to match the rate of inflation.
Sister Annabelle told of the whiplash the news had caused. For days, she suspected it had to be a dream.
Melody examined the kitchen from where she sat. Although by no means overflowing with luxurious victuals, it was certainly far from the harrowing poverty the sister had described. They had appliances and utensils, if aged ones. They wanted for nothing.
Anna must have reported everything to her lady, she surmised. I’m sure of it.
Noblewomen, regardless of their standing, did not suddenly appear out of the blue and conduct such sweeping change on a whim. Anna must have treated the matter as an emergency. Even so, her lady had acted with unbelievable swiftness to arrive with rations and supplies and carpenters the very next day. Anna-Marie was uncommonly decisive for a woman of her station.
Now I wonder if it wasn’t Lady Anna-Marie herself who’d ordered Anna to survey the orphanage.