Arpia continued her archery practice until the sky turned a deep shade of orange, indicating that the sun was setting.

To sum it up, despite hours of practice, her arrows never even came close to hitting the target.

They either refused to fly, dropped to the ground after barely leaving the bow, or shot straight into the sky as if they had a will of their own. It was clear that even though Arpia was an elf and technically my slave, turning her into a master archer in half a day was an unrealistic expectation.

However, despite the terrible results, Arpia didn’t seem too upset on the way back to the inn. If anything, she looked somewhat refreshed—perhaps satisfied by having shot her fill of arrows for the first time in ages.

“Hmm…”

“What’s the matter?” I asked, noticing her glance at her hands.

“I’ve got blisters,” she said nonchalantly.

“Well, you’ve been shooting nonstop for hours. We can apply some ointment when we get back.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to pain. If I plan on using a real bow, I’ll need to build calluses anyway.”

“As you wish.”

We returned to Duke of the Night’s Banquet, and by the time we arrived, the sun had fully set, and business was booming. We snuck past the crowd and headed down to the basement.

There, we were greeted by the familiar faces of four children.

Victor’s granddaughter, Emily. Matthew. The twin sisters, Lily and Lara.

“Are you really sure we’ll get food here…?” a new voice piped up—a voice I didn’t recognize.

“Yes! I told you! Breakfast, lunch, dinner—they feed you all the time! And they buy you clothes and toys, too!” Matthew said excitedly.

“But don’t they hit slaves and make them do hard work…?” the new voice asked hesitantly.

“Don’t worry! Karamy doesn’t do stuff like that!”

And so, I laid eyes on the newcomer: a kid with golden hair and tanned skin. Her disheveled appearance made it clear she was a street child. However, despite the grime, there was no denying her face was quite pretty—she had the potential to grow up into a real beauty.

Her slender frame added to that impression.

“Well, what do you think, Karamy? I did what you asked and brought a girl! This should be good, right?” Matthew beamed proudly.

“You didn’t drag her here against her will, did you?”

“Come on! What do you take me for? I even double-checked to make sure she wanted to become a slave.”

I had instructed him, but I didn’t expect there’d really be someone who wanted to become a slave. Then again, being a slave was probably better than starving to death.

“She passes. Good job, Matthew. As promised, I’ll buy you that sword you’ve been wanting.”

“Woohoo!” Matthew cheered, dancing around in excitement.

I pushed him aside gently and crouched in front of the girl.

“Nice to meet you. So, you want to be my slave?”

“Y-yes…” she replied timidly.

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes… I’m sure.”

“Good. Before we sign the contract, why don’t we introduce ourselves? What’s your name?”

“It’s… Hani.”

Hani, huh? Sounds like a name meant for someone fast. Not bad.

“Alright then, Hani. I look forward to working with you.”

I prepared to use the soul shackles on her, but just as I was about to begin, she mumbled something.

“Th-thank you, Karamy hyung…”

“...Hyung?”

Why did she just call me "hyung"?

Could she be a tomboy? Or perhaps a bokukko? Maybe the youngest sibling in a family full of boys?

Something about this felt off.

“Hani… just to clarify… what’s your gender?”

“...I’m a boy…”

Well, damn.

Turns out this pretty "girl" was actually a bochu.

So, rather than becoming a beautiful golden-haired woman, he was destined to become a bronzed beauty known as the "Golden Sun."

“I clearly told Matthew I only accept girls. Didn’t he explain that to you?”

“H-he did, but he said you’d fall for it if I just said I was a girl…”

He was right. I nearly fell for it. I almost signed a soul contract with a guy.

“Matthew, I’m getting sleepy all of a sudden. Maybe I should go to bed,” Matthew suddenly mumbled, turning to leave, trying to slink away.

“Matthew?”

“...Yeah?”

“Come here for a moment.”

“But I’m really tired…”

“Hmm, it feels like things are getting a bit cramped down here. Maybe it’s time to do some early spring cleaning…”

That got his attention. Matthew stopped and turned back toward me, his eyes looking upwards.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“W-well, I didn’t know what it meant! The older guys in town said it didn’t matter as long as they were good-looking…”

This ungrateful brat tried to sneak a "Golden Sun" into my household.

“You, Matthew, will have no food tomorrow.”

“What?!”

“And from now on, you’re in charge of cleaning the basement.”

The other kids cheered while Matthew wailed in protest.

“That’s not fair!”

“Oh, it’s very fair. I’m the law here. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

“I’m telling Grandpa!”

“Feel free.”

He seemed to be forgetting that while Victor provided the place, I was the one paying for all their food and upkeep.

Ignoring Matthew’s cries of injustice, I got up from my seat. Arpia, who had been observing the whole exchange, sighed and shook her head.

Then, I felt a gentle tug on my pants.

It was the newly demoted Hani, looking up at me with tearful eyes.

“So… I don’t get to eat?” he asked, his voice quivering.

His ridiculously pretty face stirred a bit of pity in me.

I needed to stay strong, though. I could already see the future: Hani growing up into someone saying, "Look at me! I'm hanging out with Mirabel!"

But…

“Am I being kicked out again?” Hani asked, his voice small and vulnerable.

I let out a long sigh.

“Well… since it’s almost dinner, you can eat for now. But first, you need to clean yourself up.”

I called over Matthew, who had been sulking nearby.

“Matthew, clean Hani up. If you do, he can join us for dinner.”

Matthew’s head snapped up in surprise.

“Okay! Come on, Hani!” he said, grabbing Hani’s hand and leading him away.

They seemed to be getting along just fine, though I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. Most boys don’t hold hands, do they?

‘Don’t tell me he brought him along because he has a thing for him…’

I quickly dismissed that unsettling thought, especially when I noticed Arpia snickering nearby. I decided not to think about it any further.

 

“It’s weird, isn’t it?!” Arpia exclaimed later that night.

“Please, it’s late. Keep your voice down.”

“How am I supposed to be quiet right now?”

It was the middle of the night, the time when everyone should be asleep.

With no Mirabel to cling to lately, my sleep had been restless, and Arpia shouting only made it worse.

The basement had four rooms in total:

Victor and Emily’s room. Matthew and Hani’s room. The twins’ room. And the last room was mine—shared with Arpia. And clearly, Arpia wasn’t happy about that.

“Why are we sharing a room? Can’t I stay with the twins or something?”

“You never know what might happen. I need to be nearby in case of emergencies,” I replied casually.

“What, are you afraid I’ll run away?”

“That’s a possibility.”

Arpia glared at me from the bed across the room, her green eyes practically glowing in the darkness. I knew what she was worried about, but come on—I wasn’t going to pull any stunts.

“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything. After all, didn’t you wake up just fine this morning?”

She stared at me suspiciously for a while longer, then finally turned her back to me, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders like a protective barrier.

I could understand her discomfort. Being away from the forest for the first time in her life, forced to share a room with a stranger—it couldn’t be easy for her.

As her master, I had to be understanding.

I lay down and pulled up my own blanket.

“Good night.”

Surprisingly, with Arpia in the room, the air felt fresher. It was almost like sleeping in the forest. Maybe I’d finally get a good night’s rest.

 

Arpia’s dreams were always the same.

They were nightmares—a curse.

Vines and thorns would rise from the ground, wrapping around her body, squeezing her until she could barely breathe. The nightmare would follow her into reality, never letting her escape.

“Nngh…”

It was the middle of the night.

Pained groans escaped her lips as she writhed on the bed. She curled up into a ball, clutching her chest tightly, as if the pain was too much to bear.

The spirits within her were waking up.

They had been quiet during the day, but now they stirred, agitated and restless.

If only they would leave her body. But the more she wished for that, the more they rebelled, intensifying her pain.

She needed alcohol—something strong to knock the spirits back into submission.

Arpia flailed her arm out from under the covers, searching for her stash. But her hand came up empty.

That’s right. This wasn’t her home anymore. She was a slave now.

At least the good thing about this place was that it was a tavern. One drink would be enough to put the spirits to sleep.

Arpia struggled to sit up, her body drenched in sweat. As she looked around in the dim light, she noticed Karamy, fast asleep on the other bed.

His words from earlier echoed in her mind.

”There are all sorts of dangerous people who visit this tavern at night. Mages, mercenaries… If you go upstairs, someone might recognize you, so stay down here, where it’s safe.”

Why was she even thinking about that?

What did it matter to her if she got caught? Why should she care about his stupid rules?

”It’s only natural for a master to trust his slave. There’s no need for any other reason.”

Why… why did that keep popping into her head?

Karamy was the one who kidnapped her and made her a slave. He was a ruthless murderer, responsible for the deaths of countless elves.

He was the kind of villain who enslaved helpless children and tormented them. He was… evil.

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about that sincere look in his eyes?

No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t find the answer.

Sighing, Arpia lay back down, deciding to endure the night without a drink. She’d survive. Tomorrow, she’d just make sure to bring some alcohol to the room in advance.

Just for tonight, she’d put up with it. She was used to pain, after all.

But the consequences of not drinking were harsh.

The spirits raged inside her, and the thorny vines scraped at her mind, tormenting her soul.

Endure it.

You can handle it.

Pain is nothing new.

She repeated those thoughts over and over, trying to convince herself, though it did little to ease her suffering.

Swish, swish.

That was when she felt something odd.

What was that sensation?

It almost felt like… someone was stroking her hair.

Yeah, that’s what it must feel like. She had never experienced it before, but she imagined being petted would feel like this.

This dream was different from her usual nightmares. This sensation had never appeared before.

It was rough in some parts, gentle in others. A strange, unbalanced feeling… but not entirely unpleasant.

At least it distracted her from the pain.

Fine. Just this once, I’ll allow someone to touch me.

...

But stop touching my ears. They’re sensitive.