ITITPS 6

Chapter : 6

Behind the kidnapping case lay a vast organization.

To verify things properly, Serena had entered the slave auction wearing a mask.

Every time the miserable people were dragged out and sold one by one, she wanted to flip the whole place upside down—
but what she’d been asked to do was reconnaissance, not a raid.

Stay quiet, leave no traces, and plan for another day.

It was the rational choice.
But that rationality shattered the moment the final slave was brought out.

“Tonight’s last item! A survivor of the clan of blue eyes—Neon’s last remnant!”

Serena hid her trembling hands inside her robe.
She was leaning so far forward she might fall, yet the shock was too great to notice.

Cotton-candy pink hair, blue eyes marked with a white cross. A member of her clan—the clan she had given up searching for after more than ten years of failure.

And that wasn’t all.
Except for the cross on her eyes, the girl standing on the stage looked exactly like the master from Serena’s recent dreams.

All resolve to stay put was useless.
Through a rather aggressive bidding war, she bought the girl.

She barely heard the seller babbling with delight.
As she held the girl by the arm and walked down a short corridor, countless regrets flashed through her mind.

Could I really say I failed to find anyone?

Serena admitted her negligence.
After seeing their village burned to ashes, she’d assumed—carelessly—that given the clan’s secrecy, no one could have survived.

Instead of searching a few months and giving up, she should’ve dug deeper, chased every rumor, gone to the ends of the earth.

Had she not abandoned the search, the girl wouldn’t have endured life as a slave.

The thought solidified when she saw the scars—those small hands covered in wounds.

“If I say no? What difference does it make? I don’t get a choice anyway!”

“You’re a mage, aren’t you? Do you want my eyes too?”

They say you can read a person’s life from how they treat strangers.

Her sharp wariness hurt more than Serena expected.
Because she knew what the girl had been like in her dreams—gentle, angelic.
Because she knew the expression she wore around those she trusted.

“I didn’t take you because I wanted your eyes. I am of your clan.”

Maybe that was why Serena acted on impulse and revealed her own cross mark.

She hadn’t shown it to anyone but Adel, yet she hesitated not at all before the girl she’d just met.

This girl could be trusted.
The pounding in her chest told her so.

“You are one of a kind in this world. So I would never harm you.”

Not a hint of a lie touched her voice.
Hearing herself speak such embarrassingly earnest words felt strange—and yet familiar, which was stranger still.

“…I’ll follow you.”

“Thank you for believing me, child.”

As soon as she declared her Neon heritage, the girl’s rigid demeanor softened.
Serena felt oddly proud to have become someone the girl could trust.

Serena held her hand more gently than before. Warmth seeped through the hard calluses.

That was when—

“…Come to think of it, I haven’t told you my name.”

So naturally it seemed unreal—Serena remembered the girl’s name from the hazy dreams that had plagued her.

Anastasia. Asha.

Name and nickname.
She hesitated which to use, but chose the former.

“My name is Serenada. I look forward to our time together… Anastasia.”

The instant she spoke the name aloud, a crushing sorrow seized her chest.

“Let me introduce you. This is where I live.”

Right after rescuing Asha, Serena took her to the mage tower she called home.

Luxurious in a way different from the royal palace, but no less grand—Serena had felt confident showing it off.

“A… yes…”

But the response was flat.
Maybe a little stunned, but hardly impressed.

“Is it… not to your liking?”

Perhaps she should’ve shown Asha her private quarters first instead of the communal floors where other mages resided.
Unhelpful worries bubbled up.

Then Asha spoke—and Serena’s concern turned to pain.

“…No. Anywhere is better than where I lived.”

“…I see.”

Serena bit her lip hard.
In her excitement over finding another clanswoman—finally—she had overlooked the most obvious thing.

She found Asha at a slave market.

Maybe she hadn’t been there long, but that was wishful thinking.

From her wariness and manner, Asha’s suffering was long endured.
To her, comfort or luxury meant nothing.

I should… apologize.

A thoughtless word can linger like a wound.

Serena resolved not to gloss over it.

“Ah—”

“Lady Serena, who is that woman?”

Of all moments.

Just as Serena began to speak, her assistant Adel appeared.

The timing for an apology became awkward.
Serena fretted internally, though she kept her face composed.

“She’s someone I’ve taken in, Adel. Prepare a room and a meal for Anastasia.”

“Yes, at once.”

Thankfully, Adel saw the cross in Asha’s eyes and understood the situation immediately.
He really was worth all the effort she’d put into raising him.

“Please follow me.”

I should finish that paperwork later, then share dinner with Asha.

Adel would treat her kindly. Relieved, Serena turned to leave.

But Asha grabbed her robe.

“Hm? What’s wrong—”

The sudden contact startled her, but she wasn’t displeased.
If anything, she liked it.

But why cling to her?
Serena looked down—

And understood.

Ah.

She was afraid.

That sharp hostility from before was gone.
Her hand clutched the robe so tightly her knuckles were white.

A newly bought slave… would expect no kindness.

Given her past, it was only natural she’d feel unsafe in an unfamiliar place.

Serena acknowledged her carelessness.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

She set her hands gently on Asha’s shoulders, met her eyes, and apologized.

Asha’s blue eyes wavered.
Yes—she needed to stay with her for now.

After instructing Adel to prepare the meal, Serena spoke softly to reassure her.

“Come to my room, Anastasia.”

Time with Asha was delightful—like gaining a little sister.

In age, that’s what they nearly were.
And among the Neon clan, close kinship meant they were practically family.

Which made it hurt all the more.
Asha seemed utterly unfamiliar with kindness, marveling at even the plainest belongings.

She’d never eaten chocolate before, either.

Seeing her wide-eyed, devouring it like she feared it would vanish—not foolish, but pitiful.

“I’m… a bit sleepy…”

“You may sleep here.”

“Then—”

Exhaustion crashing over her, Asha swayed. Serena gently eased her onto the bed.

Watching her sleep peacefully, Serena realized just how rarely the girl must have felt safe.

If only I’d found her sooner… No. Enough with that.

What mattered was now.

Serena wanted to make Asha happy. To protect her.

She was the last of her family—
and the Asha in her memory was far too precious to leave behind.

“Guh—! Cough, cough!”

So when Asha suddenly vomited blood, Serena utterly unraveled.

Shock, fear, anger, guilt—emotions too tangled to name crashed through her.

“Anastasia!”

Asha looked dazed, as if surprised by her own reaction.
Her once clear eyes now glazed over.

“Anastasia! Stay with me!”

“…Haa—!”

Asha managed to come back to awareness—yet Serena’s panic only grew.

Of course it would.
Anyone would panic if someone coughed blood at dinner—
let alone if that someone was Anastasia.

“A—A healer, no, a priest—!”

A stabbing pain pierced Serena’s chest.

Her thoughts spun.
Her usual composure—firm even under injury—was gone.

What should she do?

Why?
How could this happen here, in her own tower?

Poison was impossible.
If there were toxins, the magic within the food would have melted entirely.

Then what?

“Serena, calm down.”

“How can I calm down?!”

“I’m fine.”

Ridiculously enough, Asha recovered her composure first.

“But the blood…”

“It happens a lot. It doesn’t even hurt.”

She spoke sharply, as if the situation were nothing new, wiping her lips clean.

But that was the part most alarming—that such things were routine.

Serena wanted to argue, but stopped.

Asha didn’t want to speak about it.
Not now.

“…We won’t continue the meal. Go rest first… Tomorrow, we’ll visit the temple.”

And just like that, she let it go.

She shouldn’t have.

Now, back in the present—Serena held the motionless Asha in her arms.

…This was my negligence.

Even unconscious, Asha would not release the holy sword in her grasp. Serena bit her lip hard.

The woman in her memories had wielded a sacred blade.
She should have anticipated something like this.

“My lord duke, I’m sorry—but I must ask you to leave. Your aid today was considerable, so I’ll overlook the intrusion.”

She had planned to speak further with him afterward—
but ever since Asha collapsed, she couldn’t calm herself.

Above all, one thing gnawed at her.

“Is the girl all right?”

The voice was sincerely concerned.
Serena turned, startled by the unexpected reaction.

Pitch-black eyes fixed only on Asha.
For someone known for his icy demeanor, the anguish in that gaze made Serena frown.

“No. Not at all. Rather…”

She pictured Asha vomiting pitch-black blood—
an image that clung like a nightmare.

A violent rejection after eating magically imbued food.
She’d eaten ordinary chocolate earlier with no issue, so magic was clearly the trigger.

Then she’d met a demon and now was critically wounded—
despite suffering no physical blow, according to Adel.

No mage—or ordinary person—should react so catastrophically to mana.

Unless… no. There is one possibility. But…

One possibility she could hardly bear to imagine.

A possibility she refused to accept.