“My slave.”
The piece of cloth that had been pressed tightly onto Eleonora’s head was removed, and her unkempt black hair, hidden beneath the hood, danced in the wind.
Secrets always seem to spur human curiosity. Even when there’s no real desire to know, the more something is hidden away, the more one wants to peek. As the concealed girl’s face was revealed, the gazes around her gathered.
“Dragonkin…!”
The eyes of the guard conducting the inspection widened.
A pair of horns, small yet distinctly evident, popped up between the black hair. They were undoubtedly the hallmark of a Dragonkin. The guard’s previously neutral expression morphed into one of shock, shifting his gaze back to Aria.
“Is she your slave?”
Dragonkin slaves are rare. While anyone can own slaves if they have money and willingness, most cases involve Beastman slaves. Slaves outside of Beastmen are usually expensive. The guard, having seen countless visitors daily, would be lucky to spot a Dragonkin or Elf slave just once a few days.
Furthermore, judging by her attire and identification, Aria appeared to be nothing more than a common mercenary. It wouldn’t be odd for the guard to question how an ordinary mercenary could have such an expensive and rare Dragonkin slave.
“Yeah. Isn’t she nice?”
However, the guard quickly dismissed his doubts about Aria. Her indifferent tone and proud demeanor, almost like she was boasting about her possession, surprisingly conveyed her noble upbringing.
If the guard were a novice, he might have overlooked such details. But with ground experience in this field, he was certain.
‘Must be the troublesome daughter of some noble family.’
This woman was undoubtedly a lady from somewhere, wandering around disguised as a mercenary for her amusement. However, it would be unusual for her to carry a servant while pretending to be a mercenary. But still, given her lack of experience in menial tasks, having a slave to serve her made sense.
This scenario was not as uncommon as one would think. Although the majority of those posing as mercenaries were young masters, there was no law against a tough lady doing the same.
“Pass through.”
The guard granted them entry without hesitation. While inspecting for contraband was routine, checking each slave’s identity during a gate inspection was not necessary. After all, Ain was following a human with a collar attached—what else could she be if not a slave? If there were guards who insisted on checking every detail, that would be a waste of time for both them and the waiting crowd.
“Thanks for your hard work.”
Perhaps pleased by the swift handling of her case, just before passing through the castle gate, Aria discreetly slipped something into the guard’s hand.
Ah, this cool and heavy metallic feel. The rounded edge against his palm revealed the fact that it was a coin.
The guard opened his hand. It was gold!
With reflexes like a cat, he turned around and called out loudly towards Aria, who was blending back into the crowd.
“Have a great day!!!!”
His tone slipped into formal speech naturally, but he didn’t mind. Throwing a gold coin as a tip on the way out, she surely was a noble. And a very generous one at that.
Other possibilities? Absolutely none. It would be nonsensical for a struggling mercenary to casually throw around gold coins.
‘This is experience!’
Whether hiding their identity or not, one constant truth remains: highborn individuals dislike the trouble of procedures. Satisfied with the swift handling of affairs based on experience and reasonable reasoning, the guard nodded happily and returned to his duties.
—
Shortly after, a similar scene unfolded in an inn.
“So, you’re going to reserve a separate room for a slave like Ain?”
“Well, that’s true… but…”
Aria, who was ordering the best room while insisting on sharing it with her slave, faced a puzzled innkeeper. Typically, no owner shares a room with their slave, for in human societies, Ain was no more than livestock.
Who would want to share space with livestock? Even fine inns where people traveled with their slaves had common rooms designated for Ain slaves, like stables.
Of course, some nobles, wary of leaving their expensive possessions in the common rooms, would not hesitate to book a cheap private room. However, a guest wanting to bring a slave into the best room—this was certainly a first for the innkeeper.
“Um, why would you want to share a room with a slave…?”
“If I toss her into the common room, who will help me? Are the inn staff gonna massage my feet?”
“N-No… We don’t offer that kind of service…”
“Scared she’ll dirty the room? Don’t worry, I’m gonna let her sleep by the entrance.”
As Aria slipped a gold coin atop the counter, she finally secured the innkeeper’s approval, and Eleonora marveled inwardly.
‘So this is possible…’
After all, while Aria had reassured Eleonora that there were ways for them to share a room, she still worried about it. Knowing full well how Ain was treated, it was hard for her not to be skeptical, but who was her master? Given that Aria was always suspicious and cautious of humans, if she was confidently claiming that, there had to be a solid reason.
Even though their time together had been short, Eleonora was confident that her new master wasn’t the type to foolishly throw her arm into a lion’s mouth without reason.
So, following Aria’s instructions, she kept a blank expression and stood silently, leading to this moment.
“What are you doing? Move.”
“Y-Yes, yes!”
Was it Aria’s greatness, or the power of money that was so overwhelming?
Once nearing the truth of the world, Eleonora snapped back to reality from the chilly voice and hurriedly followed Aria up the stairs.
—
“Hwaah… Ah.”
As Eleonora entered the room, she couldn’t help but gasp.
What if someone else heard? She turned around, and after confirming that the room door was closed, she let out a sigh of relief.
This room was spacious and luxurious beyond what one would expect for just a night’s stay. Until now, she had only experienced cramped cages where she could barely stretch, making this feel even more surreal.
In fact, even looking back to before she became a slave, she couldn’t recall ever having accommodations like this.
At that time, her father was alive, so she wasn’t alone, yet the situation of Dragonkin hiding within human society was clear. As long as she had a place to rest her body, it was something to be grateful for—no better than living as a slave.
The excitement dropped quickly. The only lesson that the harsh world had taught young Eleonora was to expect nothing and learn to let go.
She must not forget: Even without the constraints of a contract, Eleonora was still a slave.
Eleonora had sold herself. She had handed over her life—one uncertain to survive alone—to the vampire that saved her.
When she heard that her new master was not just an ordinary vampire but the Progenitor of all vampires—well, that was a bit surprising. But honestly, Eleonora thought it was rather good!
Her value as a source of sustenance would increase to the Progenitor—whose power came through blood rather than just filling a belly.
From the perspective of prolonging her lifespan or exacting revenge on humans, that was a highly favorable situation. She only needed to provide blood when necessary, not to tie herself down.
That was her role as a slave and sustenance. To wish for anything more than being a mere blood bag seeking shelter from the storm was truly presumptuous… or so she thought.
“Eat.”
Before she could ponder further, Aria, standing over a table laden with food delivered from the first floor, bluntly said.
“…Um, that is for me? ”
“Who else would eat that if not you?”
Her master coldly retorted to her somewhat self-deprecating question.
But the chill was only in her words.
Could she really eat that? It was a banquet that she hadn’t even dared to imagine over the past few years.
Just looking at the steaming stew made her mouth water. But rather than joy, Eleonora was overwhelmed by the concern that she was being tested for her humility.
“Um, I—”
“Don’t dawdle; eat before it gets cold. I don’t want to repeat myself.”
But before Eleonora could say anything, Aria cut in. Leafing through a newspaper she had brought from somewhere, she seemed completely uninterested in her order.
Thinking back, Eleonora realized she had never seen Aria eat anything normal. That was natural for a vampire, so it made sense that, if that were the case, all this food ordered wasn’t truly intended for her.
“Thank you…”
Obeying her master’s orders was absolute. Regardless of the reason, if told to eat, even if it was trash, she had to comply.
No, she could at least comprehend eating trash. Being presented with a feast she had never even dreamt of was bewildering.
Eventually obeying, Eleonora hesitated before picking up a fork.
“It’s delicious…”
After several years, the warm and tender taste of meat was nothing short of touching.
Eleonora quickly stole glances toward Aria again and, after confirming that her interest lay solely in the newspaper, began to eat, moving her hands rapidly.
That evening would become the most exquisite meal Eleonora could remember. Not having to worry about breaking her teeth while eating was a truly refreshing experience.
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