Chapter 773 - 772. Charity Begins With Humility (2)

Carlos followed the young volunteer through the tents until they reached the section where the food and other rations were being distributed. Several long tables had been arranged beneath large canvas shelters, with sacks of grain, baskets of vegetables, dried meat and other necessities stacked behind them. The volunteers were working quickly, calling out names and handing supplies to the families who came forward.

Quincy gestured toward one of the tables.

"Your Highness can help here. I’ll stay nearby in case you need anything."

Carlos nodded and took his place beside the table.

For the first few moments, nothing seemed particularly difficult. He just stood there checking the rations placed beside him and made a mental note of how he was supposed to distribute them. He had watched enough people distribute things before to understand what needed to be done. A family would approach, their name would be checked against the records, and the appropriate amount of food or other supplies would be handed over.

That’s simple.

At least, that was what Carlos thought but soon enough he realised this simple thing for everyone was not the case for himself.

The first family approached the table and Carlos straightened up. The woman glanced at Carlos and immediately stopped, her eyes going wide.

The man beside her also looked at Carlos and he grabbed her and his son’s hand before he quickly dragged them away, joining another line.

Carlos stared after them and then he looked toward the volunteer working beside him.

The young man glanced back to Carlos and then gave him a sympathetic looking smile before he went back to his work.

Carlos watched another family approaching but again, the moment they recognized Carlos, they too moved toward the other volunteer. Then another, and another.

Soon, Carlos realized that there was a very obvious pattern.

Nobody wanted to take anything from him.

If it were to happen before the Trials he would have thrown a huge tantrum and showed these people their places but he didn’t particularly feel any sense of anger at this point. It all just made him feel disappointed. He just didn’t know at what he was disappointed. His mother? Himself? Or his circumstances?

"Don’t be disheartened, son." Ruel spoke up in a warm seeming voice, "just remember this, charity begins with humility so, just hold on, all right?"

Carlos hummed, thinking, "I’m not angry or anything anyways."

He remained standing behind the table, his hands resting against the edge as the line in front of the Oasis Foundation volunteer grew longer while his own side remained completely empty.

Quincy eventually cleared his throat.

"Perhaps Your Highness could help with the records instead?"

Carlos looked at him. "Why?"

Quincy hesitated before saying, "You may have better luck there."

Carlos understood what he meant as he glanced at the people avoiding him and gave a small nod.

"Fine."

There was no anger in his voice, but his expression had gone stiff.

He stepped away from the table, feeling almost relieved for some reason.

At least nobody could refuse something from him if he wasn’t offering it.

The salvage section was much noisier.

Several buildings had collapsed entirely while others had been left with damaged roofs and unstable walls. Workers moved through the remains, carefully removing wooden beams and broken stones while others searched through the debris for anything that could still be recovered.

Carlos was given a pair of gloves and directed toward one of the groups.

"Try to look for anything that might still be useful," one of the workers explained. "Furniture, utensils, documents, jewelry, clothing... anything the families might want back."

Carlos nodded.

This, at least, made sense.

There was no line of people deliberately avoiding him here.

There was only work. Manual work that people below him would do and something he’d never in his life had imagined he’d do but, something that he was fine with doing for now.

He crouched beside a pile of broken wood and began moving the smaller pieces aside.

It was dusty and unpleasant, and within minutes his clothes were already covered in dirt. He coughed as the dust flew from the objects he moved, some of the workers gave him looks, some sneered but he ignored looking at anyone in general and just thought of salvaging.

He didn’t complain.

He lifted a heavy brick and found a wooden box below it. It looked old and showed signs of being worn.

"Is it a treasure chest?" He wondered to himself as he opened the box and inside saw an old photo frame with the portrait of a man who looked like he could be in his thirties.

One of the workers who saw Carlos holding the box nearly scowled and spoke in a not-so-very-polite tone.

"Holler if you find something that looks valuable."

Carlos wondered if this thing was valuable. Valuable things were unmistakably jewels or money.

"I found something!" He hollered regardless, wondering if someone would need this old portrait.

An old woman immediately hurried over.

"Tha-That’s my husband’s portrait!"

Carlos handed the box to her and she clutched it against her chest with trembling hands, her eyes glistening with tears.

Carlos looked away, he wasn’t sure why, but something about the woman’s expression made him uncomfortable.

Perhaps because she was genuinely happy.

For the first time since arriving, he felt as though he had actually done something useful.

He turned back toward the rubble and continued, he found a few broken and old tidbits which the people quickly took away from him. Nobody thanked him and he didn’t mind it, it was better that way.

A little later, he found a small cloth doll beneath a broken piece of furniture. It was dusty and one of its arms had been torn.

He brushed the dirt away, finding the following unsightly but he had realised one thing from the previous objects that, the things these people were looking for weren’t exactly things he would put value to. He looked around and saw a little girl standing several feet away, watching him.

Carlos held up the doll.

"Is this yours?"

The girl looked toward her mother before cautiously approaching.

She took it from him with both hands.

"Thank you."

Carlos paused. It was the first time someone had thanked him since he arrived.

He merely nodded, "You’re welcome."

The girl ran back to her mother.

Carlos watched her for a moment before returning to work, perhaps this wasn’t so bad.

Then he heard shouting.

"Move!"

Carlos looked up.

One of the temporary stacks of wooden beams near the reconstruction site had shifted. A worker tried to grab one of them, but the movement only caused another beam to slide loose.

A child who had wandered too close to the area looked up at the sound.

Carlos saw the falling timber and he didn’t think before his body moved on its own. He grabbed the child and shoved him away just as several large beams came crashing down.

The sound of wood hitting the ground was deafening.

"Oh God!"

"The beams fell! Hurry and get help!"

People shouted and Carlos grunted slightly, coughing as a lot of dust had blown up because of the timber falling.

"Carlos!"

Eric’s voice came from somewhere behind him. Carlos barely had time to turn before another beam came loose and Drac moved into action.

The young Dragon stepped forward and caught the falling timber with one hand before throwing it aside as though it weighed nothing. The remaining beams were quickly removed before they could fall.

There was silence for a moment and Carlos was still crouched on the ground.

The child was a few feet away at a safe distance crying. His mother rushed forward and pulled him into her arms.

"Are you hurt?"

"No..."

The woman checked him frantically before holding him against her chest.

Carlos slowly stood, coughing but then instantly stumbled as a sharp pain shot through his left leg.

He frowned, looking down and realized that his trouser had been torn near his calf. There was a shallow cut beneath it, and his ankle hurt when he put his weight on it.

"Carlos!"

Eric hurried toward him.

"Are you all right?"

"I’m fine."

"You’re bleeding. How’s that fine?"

Carlos didn’t pay him any kind as he glanced at the crying child again, the people had gathered around them but apart from Eric and Drac nobody else was close to him. It was clear that nobody cared here if he was hurt or not.

A pang blossomed in Carlos’s chest. He was trying not to expect but somehow the open ostracism was pricking more than it should.

Eric looked at Carlos’s leg and then at him, he pursed his lips tightly before he grabbed Carlos’s arm draping it over his own shoulder before wrapping his free arm around Carlos’s waist.

"Wa-Wait, I can walk on my own!" Carlos shouted but Eric was already dragging him towards the tent of the physicians.

"Hurry and treat his wound." Eric ordered the physicians as he lowered Carlos on one of the cots.

"It’s not that bad."

Carlos could see the worry in his eyes, even though the older prince was trying not to show it.

"It was quite reckless, Carlos. You could have been hurt much worse." Eric reprimanded and Carlos simply shrugged.

"But I wasn’t."

Eric sighed. After his leg was bandaged Carlos got to his feet. It still hurt but Carlos tried not to let it show as he shifted most of his weight to his right foot.

"You should head back to palace for the day," Eric said and Carlos shook his head.

"It’s not even half a day, I can’t leave." Carlos said.

"But you’re hurt!"

Carlos appeared nonchalant as he limped towards the flaps of the tent, "So, what? All of this is to salvage my image if I leave it’s useless."

Eric frowned, it was strange to see Carlos acting like this, he couldn’t help but recall the young Carlos who had humiliated him, beat him and done everything in his power to make his life a living hell. But here he was now, trying to salvage his image. Eric had tried to also try and salvage what little of their relationship was, but watching Carlos like this he couldn’t help but think that maybe it was Katherine’s influence after all that had made Carlos the way he was, Carlos might just be a better person on the inside. Eric wanted to trust this thought but he also recalled his mother’s words.

Nobody of the royal family was his family. He should never let his guard down.

Outside the workers had already returned to clearing the area. The mother had thanked Drac and was now comforting her child. Even the people nearby seemed more concerned about getting back to work than about the prince who had just been injured.

Carlos limped outside, a part of him had expected at least one person to praise or thank him but nothing happened. They had moved on.

Carlos simply sighed and started limping in the direction of the rubble, it hurt but he gritted his teeth and tried his best to tough it out.

Eric noticed his expression and he patted his shoulder.

"Come with me."

"Why?"

"You’re limping."

"I can still work."

"I didn’t say you couldn’t."

Eric turned toward the administrative tents.

"You’re going to sit down and do something that doesn’t require you to put weight on that leg."

Carlos opened his mouth to argue but Eric looked back at him.

"That’s an order."

Carlos stared at him and then reluctantly followed.

The records tent was much quieter than the rest of the camp. Several volunteers sat around tables covered with ledgers and sheets of paper. Names, household numbers and details of losses were being recorded as people came forward.

A middle-aged man introduced himself as Thomas Preston.

"Your Highness, perhaps you can help here for a while. We still have several families waiting to register their losses."

Carlos glanced at the ledgers.

"All right."

He sat down.

The first man approached cautiously, he gave his name and then the names of his wife and children.

His house had been destroyed, his livestock had been lost and his tools were gone.

Carlos listened and watched Thomas write everything down. The next person gave another list and then another.

After a while, Carlos frowned at the ledger. There was nothing particularly wrong with it but it was cumbersome.

The same information was being written repeatedly, and whenever someone needed to determine what kind of assistance a family required, they had to read through the entire entry.

Carlos stared at the page and then he remembered Nyx.

No, don’t put everything together like that.

He could almost hear her voice.

Separate the things according to what you’re actually trying to find.

Carlos reached for another sheet of paper and then began drawing lines.

Thomas looked over.

"Your Highness?"

Carlos didn’t answer immediately as he divided the page into several columns.

Name.

Family.

Shelter.

Food.

Medical.

Reconstruction.

Then he began transferring the information.

Instead of writing long descriptions, he placed the relevant information under each category.

When Thomas finally looked at the new arrangement, his eyebrows rose.

"This is..."

Carlos looked up.

"What?"

The man leaned closer, "This is much easier to organize."

Carlos lowered his gaze to the paper, "It makes it easier to see what each family needs without reading the entire record."

Thomas nodded slowly, "We could separate the families by each requirement this way."

Carlos nodded, "That was what I was thinking."

Thomas looked genuinely impressed. "Your Highness’s skills are impressive."

Carlos’s ears grew red and Eric who had been hovering around to keep an eye on Carlos meddled.

"That’s impressive, Carlos. Where did you learn this? Did you come up with this? I didn’t know you were so good at organizing things." He asked placing an arm around Carlos’s shoulders.

Carlos’s hand stopped, for a moment, he said nothing, but then his expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"No... Nyx taught me."

There was something almost shy about the way he said her name and Eric noticed.

He remembered their conversation from before about Carlos’s love life.

Eric’s smile widened, "Then she taught you well."

Carlos looked away, the tips of his ears bright red, "...Yeah."

Eric took a closer look and looked at the new record.

"This is useful. We should show it to the Foundation volunteers. Good work, Carlos." Eric patted Carlos’s back.

Carlos nodded, for some reason, the praise felt different this time. He didn’t mind it.

Outside the tent, the sound of hammers and voices continued. The work had not stopped and neither had Carlos’s.

He knew things wouldn’t be easy but for now he didn’t find it too tedious.