Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: I'll Steal Away Your Daughter
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“Kyaaak!
Kyaaaak!”
“What are you doing!
Hurry and hold her steady!”
“Y-Yes!”
The men, who had clearly been private soldiers of Viscount Conean’s household, were scrambling to obey not their former lord’s orders, but Lucia’s words.
Burly men grunting as they gripped slender arms and legs.
And beneath them thrashed a single beastkin woman, her sharp claws bared, ready to kill anyone who dared touch her.
“Please calm down.
We’re not here to harm you.”
Lucia spoke in a voice full of pity, but the response was a bloodcurdling shriek.
“Kyaaak!
Get away, you humans!
Don’t touch my body!
Kyaaaak!”
This was the reaction from most of them after some time had passed since starting work as slaves.
Even after escaping that hellish slave market, they couldn’t accept it, convinced this was just another filthy human trick, resisting with all their might.
For Lucia, who had to heal the wounds etched across their bodies, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
‘No, it’d be better if they were all like this.’
The truly horrific moments for Lucia came when she saw slaves who were already fully prepared for sale to customers, their work complete.
Those whose bodies and minds had sunk into severe ruin did nothing but fawn for hugs, flashing lascivious smiles and breaths, begging to be embraced.
What cruelties had they endured to reduce such proud beings to this—broken, lifeless eyes spilling such words?
“Whew.”
Lucia had dipped her toes into healing magic following Raido.
Never had using it made her chest ache like this.
They’d always rejoice at healed wounds, smiling and thanking her.
‘But this is different.
So very different.’
The whip marks were the worst of their physical scars, the rest healable with a simple spell.
But no magic could mend their shattered, crumbling hearts.
Without erasing memories, smiles seemed a distant dream from their lips.
Casting healing magic on simple wounds left her as drained as if she’d treated hundreds, thousands.
“Miss Lucia.
Are you alright?”
Lishkida approached quietly, checking on her.
Under Sion’s orders to guard her—and out of her own devotion to him—Lucia treated her as an ally, warm and friendly.
“Y-Yes.
I’m fine.
Sir Lishkida.
It’s just... this is a bit shocking.
To think such horrors were happening within the kingdom’s borders.”
“...That’s what defeat brings.”
“Pardon?”
“Nudia still upholds slavery, doesn’t it? And Hispanya allows it in certain cases.
A minority, but they exist.”
“Ah...”
As Lishkida said, Hispanya did have slaves, albeit few.
War prisoners.
Those unable to pay ransom couldn’t return home and were sold into slavery.
Nations fighting with professional soldiers rarely refused ransoms, but for those circumstances left them destitute, it was the worst fate.
“I saw plenty in Nudia.
The plight of the fallen slaves.
To them, physical wounds weren’t even worth calling scars.
What hurt most, bled most, broke most—was their hearts.”
“I see...”
“I suffered those heart wounds too.
Without my lord, I might’ve ended my own life or died fighting.”
“You mean Young Lord Sion?”
At Lucia’s question, Lishkida nodded with a soft smile.
Meeting him was her life’s greatest fortune; just standing by him filled her with joy, her face beaming repeatedly.
“...I’m envious.”
“Hm?”
“N-No, it’s nothing.
Sir Lishkida.
I’ve healed all their physical wounds, so our job’s done.
Shall we head up and rest?”
“You go first.
I’ll patrol the area.
Those who tried to harm my lord might still be lurking.”
Even with the royal knights nearby, Lishkida remained vigilant.
She wouldn’t relax until they reached Claussen Margrave Territory.
‘Still, Sir Lishkida looks so happy.’
Lucia couldn’t know her past sufferings.
But her current happiness was plain.
A woman hiding her smile, yet beaming at Sion—no fellow woman could miss it.
‘I’ve gotten a bit closer to Sion too... Watching this stirs some greed.’
Sighing, Lucia climbed the stairs slowly.
Entering her room, she was about to undress and wash away the sweat from casting spells when—
Knock knock knock.
A knock, followed by a man’s voice.
“Lucia, it’s me.
May I come in?”
“Sion?”
Stunned for a moment, she hastily buttoned her half-undone blouse and called, “C-Come in!”
He’d apparently waited for her to return; entering, Sion wore casual clothes.
“You’ve worked hard, Lucia.”
In his hand was a teacup steaming with milk tea.
Setting it on the table, he gestured for her to drink before it cooled.
Staring blankly, Lucia let out an “Ah,” murmured thanks, and sipped carefully.
Sion watched her drink, then after a few minutes, stated his purpose.
“How were they?
The other races.”
“Ah.”
Sighing, Lucia set down her cup.
Fidgeting with her fingers, hesitating, she finally met his eyes and spoke carefully.
“...They were okay, but not okay.”
A foolish answer, she thought.
Sion would surely ask what she meant, and she’d laugh it off with “I don’t know” over tea.
“You must’ve had it rough.”
But his response was entirely different.
“Huh?”
Surprised, Lucia blinked.
Sion smiled knowingly, reached out, and gently took her hand.
“Wounds of the heart hurt more, scar deeper, and heal slower than those on the body.”
“Ah, y-yeah...”
“And no magic or herbs can erase them.
That’s why I figured it’d be especially hard on you, Lucia.”
“You’re right.
No matter how I healed their bodies, their hearts...”
“And they were in agony.”
“Yes.
They were.”
Sion nodded at her reply.
“Those who’ve endured great physical and mental torment often react that way.
What they need isn’t medicine or healing—it’s attention, encouragement, and the will to overcome.”
“So that’s why you apologized personally and bowed to them?”
He nodded at her question.
“Compensation matters, but sincere apology is what they need most.
For those still battling horrific pasts, gold means nothing—absolution does.”
Sion urged, ‘Drink it hot. It’ll warm you inside,’ before it cooled.
She obeyed, lifting the cup again.
The warm, sweet liquid soothed her mouth and beyond, calming her chilled, barren heart a touch.
“More than that, you’re such a warm person, Lucia.”
“Me?”
“They suffered at human hands, yet most see them as ‘other races.’
Different beings.
So little empathy for their pain.”
“...Yeah.”
“But not you.
You take in their pain with your eyes, ears, mind.
And feel it in your heart, pitying them.”
“I don’t know.
They just seemed so pitiful... and I felt sorry for no reason.”
“To some, that’s normal; to others, abnormal.”
Sipping his own milk tea, Sion continued after a quiet pause.
“So, are you okay?”
“Hm?”
“The kinder you are, the more you ache for others’ pain.
Watching theirs must’ve hurt you too.
Am I wrong?”
Clutching her chest reflexively, Lucia wondered if that stinging corner was why.
She’d thought only they suffered—but no?
“Unknowingly, your heart’s been cut and pierced too, Lucia.
That’s why I ask: are you okay? Can you smile carefree?”
“...”
Gazing at him silently, she looked down at her cup, fiddling with it.
“I don’t know.”
Her answer: ‘I don’t know.’
Not yes, not no—ambiguous.
But that ambiguity was her true feeling.
As he said, seeing them stung her heart bloody.
Yet asked if she could smile carefree? Somehow, yes.
The reason was simple, absurdly foolish.
‘Because you’re sitting right here asking if I’m okay, Sion.’
If that man asked with that smile.
She could say she was fine and smile brightly, any circumstance—even their horrors tearing her apart.
As if sensing her inner thoughts,
Sion gently took her hand again, patting it comfortingly—good job, you’re okay now.
“Ah.”
Lucia gasped unwittingly, then clapped her hand over her mouth in panic.
The mood turned awkward; flustered, she blurted,
“W-Wait, actually I think I’m fine.
Yes, I’m okay, Sion.
No need to worry now.
I-I was going to wash up and rest...”
“Lucia.”
Looking up at his call,
The face of the man she adored was breath-close.
“S-Sion?”
“I asked if there was room to slip in, remember?”
His sudden question.
Staring blankly, she recalled and nodded slowly.
“Good.
You remember.”
“B-But why bring that up now...”
“Because the moment’s here.”
“Huh?”
“I mean now’s when you slip in, Lucia.”
“W-What...”
Suddenly, Lucia felt herself floating.
Sion had pulled her arm, flipping her onto the bed beside them in an instant.
“S-Sion!
W-What are you doing?
W-Wait!
This is...”
“Ah.
Sorry.
We’re the wrong way around.”
“Huh?
Eek?”
Sion shifted again; now she straddled him.
Flustered, she tried to flee, but one sentence stopped her cold.
“If you go now, who knows when another chance will come.”
“Ah...!”
“Whether you slip into this gap now or wait—it’s up to you, Lucia.”
He’d pulled her first, yet gave her the choice.
By lying beneath, with her atop—that was why.
“I-I...”
“If it hurts, act spoiled.
Don’t suffer alone—lean on someone, whine, demand comfort, ask for smiles.
That’s it.”
His hand brushed her cheek; trembling, she swallowed hard.
Lean on him, act spoiled, ask for smiles.
That’s what Sion seemed to say.
“Sion.
Can I really... come in?
What if it burdens others...”
“It’s fine, Lucia.
Being a little selfish for your happiness—no one will blame you.
Everyone’s born with self-love to love others.”
Sion unlocked her final barrier.
Atop him, she hesitated briefly, then leaned down resolved.
Meeting his eyes she’d longed for, she slowly lowered her head.
Gazing at her red bud-like lips, Sion thought,
‘Of course.
What morals or conscience in romance?
People need occasional rebellion to live truly human!’
If Raido glared later, Sion planned to say:
‘It wasn’t me—your daughter made the move!
I’m innocent, father-in-law!’