I finished Lina’s treatment.
The reddish-black marks that had once covered her entire body were gone. It had taken a little over a year of visiting that annex every single morning, but it was finally over.
When the treatment began, I was still eleven years old. Somewhere along the way, I had turned twelve.
Now that it was done, I felt a strange sensation. Ever since I was kidnapped, I had always been on the receiving end—either having things taken from me or being given things by others. I was always the one having things done to or for me. But this... this was the first time I was the one giving back. I felt as though I had reached back and helped the version of myself that was trapped in that cage, and in healing her, I felt as though I was the one being saved.
I didn't think it was a big deal that I had pared away at my own left arm every day to achieve it. My body closed up on its own anyway; at most, I just grew a bit pale from the blood loss. Compared to erasing even one of Lina’s scars, it was a cheap price to pay. At the time, I truly believed that.
A few days later, a carriage carrying me, Lina, Klaus, and Mira stopped in front of the slave trader's shop—the same place we had visited a little over a year ago.
The storefront hadn't changed at all since the day I bought her. The only thing different was the girl sitting beside me.
Dressed in servant's clothes provided by the House of the Count, Lina was no longer a mass of reddish-black burn scars. She had become so beautiful she could be mistaken for a fairy; if not for the black slave crest remaining on her neck, no one would have believed she was a slave.
And today, we were here to erase that mark.
The elderly shopkeeper was stunned by the sheer transformation. He scribbled something onto a piece of parchment while looking at her, likely recording the results of the transaction.
Afterward, he performed the contract release ritual with practiced efficiency.
The slave crest engraved on Lina’s neck—a black, rope-like mark—began to glow with a faint light in response to the mana leaking from the shopkeeper’s fingertips. The ink that had seemed soaked into her skin was slowly, slowly washed away by the light until it vanished entirely.
Lina touched her bare neck, blinked several times, and then looked at me.
"Now you can go anywhere you want," I said, keeping my voice as light as possible. It was a sentiment intended to broaden the future for a girl who had been confined to our estate for the past year.
But instead of looking relieved, Lina stood there clutching her hands to her chest before slowly collapsing to the floor.
"…Ngh… hic…"
Her knees hit the floor and her shoulders trembled. She tried to swallow a sob, but it was no use; the dam burst, and she began to cry uncontrollably.
"Lord Rein… Lord Rein…"
I panicked.
I crouched down in front of her. Her eyes were blurred with tears, but in their depths, she had the look of an abandoned child.
"Lina, what’s wrong? I—"
"—Please, don't throw me away."
Her voice was a trembling whisper. She squeezed the words out, but she said them clearly.
"Please… let me stay with you. Forever."
I was speechless for a moment.
I had no intention of throwing her away. But to Lina, my words had sounded like a dismissal. And, in hindsight, it was only natural. Lina was an elf who had been cast out by her own kind. Even if she were free, she had nowhere to return to.
I had told a child with no home that she was free to go.
I let out a long, heavy sigh.
Then, I stood up and turned around. Klaus was standing by the shop’s entrance, while Mira, my personal attendant, stood quietly just behind me.
"…I’m sorry. Mira, can we make Lina an apprentice maid?"
Mira raised an eyebrow slightly, then let out a short, exasperated huff.
"Haa… I’ll have to check with the head maid, but I suspect it will be fine."
She had a look on her face that suggested she had known it would turn out this way from the start.
I placed a hand gently on Lina’s shoulder.
"Lina. You can stay and work at our home as an apprentice maid."
Lina slowly raised her face, still sobbing. Her teary eyes fixed on me, and as she blinked, the look of an abandoned child gradually faded.
"Lord Rein… is it… really okay?"
"Yes. You can stay as long as you like."
Lina touched her neck once more, her fingertips light against the skin.
◇◇◇
The following day, I sat at my desk.
Klaus had asked me to prepare a draft for a report. Since I had officially declared Lina’s treatment as "human experimentation," I was obligated to submit a written account of the results upon completion.
If there were any discrepancies in the report, an inspector might be sent to investigate the site. However, Klaus had assured me that it was almost unheard of for an audit to be conducted against a family with the standing of the House of the Count of Werl. With our level of credibility, a formal document was usually enough to settle the matter.
While submitting the report was unavoidable, the records would only be reviewed if a specific request was made. They wouldn't be exposed to the public or other noble houses. If there was no audit, the matter would simply be forgotten.
I began to write the explanation I had repeated to Mira and my family whenever they asked how I was healing her.
『By applying self-recovery magic and maintaining a mana capacity dozens of times greater than average through precise control, I achieved regeneration by forcing out skin factors.』
『No pain was observed in the patient during the procedure.』
『The practitioner's mana consumption is significant, but recovery is achieved within half a day.』
However, there were things I didn't write—things I had never said.
I am scraping off my own skin and grafting it onto her. I didn't write that sentence. I didn't want to worry Mira or my family.
I wasn't lying, but I wasn't telling the whole truth either. I knew it was a cowardly way to write.
I set down the pen. Clutching the dry parchment, I headed to Father’s office.
Father reached across his desk to take the draft, spreading it out slowly. Klaus was standing by in the corner of the room, present because the matter involved a slave.
Father read the draft in silence for a long time.
Then, he picked up a pen.
"‘No pain was observed in the patient’—we’re striking this."
Without hesitation, Father drew a line through the sentence.
"If other nobles who couldn't endure the Saint’s magic hear about this, they’ll swarm us. Rein, you’ll lose your freedom."
Klaus nodded slightly from beside the desk.
"‘The practitioner's mana consumption recovers in half a day’—let’s cut that as well. If Lord Rein’s true capacity becomes known, people will try to exploit him. If we leave it out, they’ll assume the massive mana requirement was met through some external method rather than personal talent."
Father’s pen moved again, crossing out that line as well.
The words I had written were being buried under thick diagonal slashes.
"We’ll leave the general methodology," Father said. "If we write nothing, it won't pass as a report. Even with this much information, it’s not something anyone can reproduce. We aren't obligated to disclose the entire process, and most reports of this nature are vague anyway."
"So, we give them the result and a hazy path to it," Klaus said, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile.
"Exactly. Anyone who sees this report will think, ‘This is no different from asking a Saint.’ And they’ll assume the cost is prohibitively high. It will surely be forgotten before long."
Father nodded and added a final sentence to the end of the draft.
『—In conclusion, by partially replicating the Saint’s regeneration magic, the skin was successfully restored.』
And so, the report was finalized.
Klaus brought out a fresh sheet of parchment. With elegant, practiced penmanship, he transcribed the revised draft.
Finally, he let a drop of red sealing wax fall onto the parchment. Father’s signet ring pressed the crest of our house into the wax.
I watched the sealed report in silence.
I thought that with this, everything was finished.
But half a month later, a single letter arrived—and I realized just how naive I had been.