Chapter 5: Her Story

…

Honestly, to tell the truth, I thought I was hopeless.

I had worked at the inn for quite a long time.

I was able to work as a guide at this inn for seven years after my coming-of-age ceremony at the age of 18.

Before that, I hunted wild monsters wandering outside the village to supplement my family’s income, but when my father was severely injured during a hunt, I had no choice but to find a safer source of income.

That place was the inn.

My mother was an ordinary human, so she couldn’t enter labyrinths, and my younger sibling was too young to contribute to the family’s income.

Above all, my father, who would have served as their teacher, was severely injured and bedridden.

In the end, I had to work hard.

I had to earn money, I had to send money, and I had to move more diligently.

It was none other than me who had to feed my family.

But I could no longer do so.

I had seen countless slaves.

Among them, I often encountered guests who visited for ‘that kind’ of purpose.

Although I never directly witnessed such scenes, every time they visited, I would see fearful or desperate faces, contrasting with the owners’ bright or lecherous expressions.

To forget such faces, I observed the faces of lovers.

Faces happy as they looked into each other’s eyes, concentrating on each other as if they had forgotten me standing right in front of them, lost in their own world.

But such illusions were sometimes shattered.

For example… a man secretly having multiple affairs, or a woman blatantly cheating on her lover.

Watching such scenes, I gradually closed off my heart.

Countless men coveted my beauty and approached me, but I would drive them away with a few words, or… sometimes I had to use more aggressive methods.

Fortunately, Piotr, the Security Captain, who knew my situation well, sometimes helped me, but mostly I had to manage on my own.

But this time, I could no longer bear it alone.

Someone had almost died.

An unsuspecting man who had lost his memory, trusting my words implicitly, had gone out and returned covered in blood, they said.

My heart sank when I heard that.

I wanted to apologize to him, but I had many things left to do.

When all those things were over, I found myself in a constantly fearful position.

A slave who could be violated by anyone, without being able to resist.

A being whose mind could be locked away, but whose body would be defiled countless times.

On the way to the city’s official slave trade office, I still remembered the gazes that stared at me.

Those eyes focused on me, those slimy desires scrutinizing me.

From behind curtains, from carriages, from beneath the shadows cast by parasols.

My annoyingly sensitive ears conveyed every whisper to me.

I wanted to block it, but I couldn’t.

I wanted to shake it off, but I couldn’t.

I hated everything.

I resented myself.

I hated myself for being blinded by one gold coin.

There, I received training in the basic etiquette and behavior expected of a slave.

Funnily enough, the training ended early as it was not much different from my usual work.

Above all, by that point, I had already let go of everything, so I felt no resistance to the training at all.

I had fallen too far to achieve anything anyway.

So I focused on just one goal: three silver coins.

If only I had that, if only I had that, it would be enough.

If it was enough money for my family to eat their fill and sleep soundly, I was willing to close my eyes.

I thought it would be enough if I could just forget what happened to my body and simply receive letters from my family.

But I didn’t want to.

But I had to.

I heard that a buyer was coming.

I don’t know how much I cried when I heard that.

I thought I had prepared for everything, but that wasn’t the case.

I couldn’t deceive myself.

I cried silently, facing a terrible night.

The next day, I met my buyer.

And I fell into despair.

Was it karma? I met the man I had almost killed.

There were no scars left on his body, but I couldn’t help but be even more nervous at his dark expression.

What would he do to me? Would he hit me, torture me, or make me pay with my body?

Or would he make me do even more horrific things?

I was afraid.

My mind was a mess.

My heart ached.

But he didn’t do any of those things.

Quietly rising in the dark room, I looked at the chair he was sitting in.

Carefully, I gently lifted him with both hands, his head nodding forward as he dozed off, and laid him on the bed.

I quietly got in beside him.

He is a good person. Truly.

He told me I didn’t have to worry about the things I was anxious about, and he stipulated conditions for my benefit in the contract.

Above all, he said I didn’t have to remain a slave, he seated me in the same place as him, and he served me good food that I usually couldn’t even dream of.

I also heard him say he would give three silver coins to my family if needed.

Of course, on the condition that I help him with his dungeon exploration and future life.

He wanted to entrust me with things much more ordinary than what I had prepared myself for.

He didn’t have much gold left.

He said he spent 1,200,000 Dikats on me, and had 100,000 Dikats left.

Considering he had lost his memory, he had a lot of money, but…

“The inheritance left to me by the person who took me in when I lost my memory, and the money I received for killing that… wanted criminal, was this much. Fortunately. The story… the story I’ll tell you tomorrow, or the day after? I’ll tell you then. For now, rest. You must be tired.”

…

He definitely said something like that.

But, he used that precious money just because he wanted me to escape an unreasonable situation.

His hand softly dropped onto my face.

Perhaps it was because he fell asleep in an uncomfortable position?

He was tossing and turning slightly.

I gently placed my hand over his.

His hand had an incredibly warm warmth.

I remembered his hand touching my ear, his gaze.

That soft warmth and meticulousness when he tucked my ear into the hood, and his dazed face, unable to take his eyes off my ear at the same time.

His worried face throughout our conversation, and his cheeks flushing occasionally when he looked at my face.

His head, which he struggled to turn away, and his twitching hands.

This man, whose reactions were so honest that he was rather worrying.

I gently lifted his hand and brought it to my cheek.

I even brought my nose close to it to smell it.

I felt incredibly warm.

A tingling sensation in my chest.

Yet, I couldn’t let go of his hand.

I pressed my face against his hand a little harder.

More warmth enveloped me.

His rough hand, unlike my own, was strangely warm.

It strangely drew me in.

Why? Why was it so warm?

Neither the blanket covering me nor the pillow beneath my head was as warm as his hand.

“Mmm… soft…”

My body stiffened instantly.

My mind froze.

What would he think if he saw me like this?

A pervert? An easy woman?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

But soon, his hand caressing my cheek slowly melted my mind.

“Hehe…”

With a silly laugh, my ears kept twitching at the touch that gently flowed across my cheek.

My cheeks were burning, and a constant tingling sensation ran from my cheeks to my ears, to my chest, throughout my entire body, as if something was endlessly tickling me inside.

But I did nothing else but bury my face deeper into his hand and desperately hold down my flailing ears with one hand so they wouldn’t accidentally hit him.

The ticklish feeling was nice.

His silly laughter flowed into my ears, turning my mind into a mess.

Even if it was just meaningless sleep-talking like “good” or “soft,” his words kept making me feel foolish.

Why?

He’s a man I’ve only just started living with today, should I let my heart be swayed so easily?

…W-what am I saying, let my heart be swayed?

My body, huh? My body? Oh?

I hurriedly pulled my face away from his hand.

No, no way.

From the very first day, my hands and cheeks are already freely touching his hand, that, that… has some magic been cast on it?

Why, why can’t my eyes look away from that hand?

With great difficulty, I turned my head, but I couldn’t… turn my back on his face.

Why won’t my body move? Why?

“Mmm… no soft things…”

A rustling sound came from behind me, along with his anxious voice.

Just a moment, wouldn’t it be quite awkward if he woke up now…?

If he woke up now, he’d ask why he was sleeping in the bed… and I couldn’t say that I moved here and rubbed my cheek on his hand.

And I absolutely couldn’t lie…

…Yes, that’s it. It can’t be helped.

Because he can’t wake up, because it would be awkward if he woke up from his sleep, I’m lending him my cheek.

Yes. There’s no other meaning.

Ah, truly… truly a warm hand.

The sound of the rain bothering my ears, my anxious heart, why is it?

If he caresses me…