The guards grabbed me by the arms and began hauling me toward the edge of the stage. My legs felt like they weren't even touching the ground. My mind was spiraling.
What kind of person drops eighty-five gold for a useless healer?
I didn't want to find out.
The room I was brought into looked nothing like the dungeon I'd just come from.
It was clean — painfully clean. The kind of polished that made you feel dirty just by standing in it. Crystal lights sparkled overhead, refracting rainbows across the glossy marble floors. Velvet chairs lined the walls, the kind nobles probably used to sit on while deciding fates like mine. There were no chains here. No smell of rust or rot. But it still didn't feel like freedom.
In the far corner of the room sat the elf — the one with the missing hand.
He didn't look up. His face was unreadable, blank, like his mind had wandered far from this place. The silence between us was sharp enough to cut through.
Why did he buy me? I wondered. Was it just to show off his wealth? Flaunt his status?
No answer came. Only the weight in my chest grew heavier.
It didn't matter.
Whatever the reason, I was still a prisoner. My wrists weren't shackled anymore, but the slave crest still burned faintly under my skin. I could still feel it — like a brand pulsing with every heartbeat.
Then the door creaked open.
A man entered, dressed in formal robes, holding a thick stack of papers and a silver ink pen. Two knights followed silently behind him, their armor gleaming under the chandelier lights. Without a word, the robed man approached us.
The elf barely reacted.
One by one, the knights stepped forward, placing their hands over our slave crests. A soft blue glow spread across our skin, and just like that, the marks vanished.
I blinked. The air in my lungs felt… lighter. Hope sparked in my chest for the first time in days.
Then the doors opened again.
He walked in.
The buyer.
The man who had spent eighty-five gold coins to purchase me, and five for the elf. He looked young — maybe in his early twenties — with long, jet-black hair tied back neatly and sharp brown eyes that flicked across the room like they were measuring everything and caring about none of it.
He didn't introduce himself.
Didn't speak.
Just walked straight over to the table, took the silver pen from the robed man's hand, and without hesitation, dragged the tip across his palm, drawing blood.
I watched, heart racing, as he knelt in front of the elf.
He dipped the pen in his blood and began drawing a new crest on the elf's shoulder.
The elf didn't even flinch.
My stomach twisted.
When he finished, he stood and turned toward me.
I stepped back. "W-Wait… please—don't. I don't want that thing again—"
He didn't respond. Didn't even glance at me.
He just knelt down and reached for my arm.
"No—please," I begged, pulling away. "There has to be another way—!"
The moment the pen touched my skin, pain exploded through my body.
It was worse than before — hotter, deeper. It felt like every nerve was being set on fire, twisted, and snapped at once. I gritted my teeth, tears welling in my eyes, trying not to scream.
But I didn't pass out this time.
I endured it.
And somehow, that made it worse.
When the prince stood, he said nothing. He simply turned to the robed man and the guards and gave a wave of his hand.
"Leave," he ordered calmly. "Everyone — except them."
The door closed behind the others, and for the first time, it was just the three of us.
Two newly bound slaves… and the man who now owned us.
Silence hung heavy in the lavish room.
The elf sat quietly in the corner, face unreadable. I stood frozen, the sting of the slave crest still fresh on my skin.
Then the prince raised his hand.
He began to chant—low, deliberate words that hummed with energy. The air in the room shimmered, and a soft pulse radiated outward like ripples on water.
I stepped back, startled. Magic again. Always magic.
The glowing aura spread across the walls, then faded into nothing. It felt like the air had been sealed around us.
He turned toward us with that same calm expression. "Relax," he said. "That was a sound barrier. No one outside this room can hear us now. You can speak freely."
The elf looked up for the first time. After a pause, he spoke. "Rowan," he said simply. "That's my name."
I hesitated before muttering, "Leken."
The prince nodded, his eyes flicking between us. "Good. Now that we're past the formalities…"
Leken swallowed, his voice trembling just slightly. "You… You never gave us yours."
The prince gave a faint smile — not warm, but not unkind either.
"You can call me Leo," he said. "I'm the third prince of the Valoria Kingdom."
My chest tightened.
A prince. I'd guessed it during the auction, but hearing it confirmed… somehow made everything feel heavier.
"I need people I can trust," Leo continued. "Right now, my kingdom is on the brink. My two older brothers are fighting over who will succeed the throne. Assassinations, bribery, blackmail — it's all fair game to them. And me?"
He walked toward the window, hands clasped behind his back.
"I'm part of the neutral faction. The only thing standing between them and all-out civil war."
He turned back to us, eyes sharp now, like a blade pulled halfway from its sheath.
"You were bought because I saw potential. What happens next depends on whether I was right."
"I need people who will go unnoticed in the imperial court," Leo said, his voice calm but sharp with intent. "Eyes and ears I can trust in a place filled with vipers and masks. If you can help me with this… I promise, at the end of it all, I will free you—and reward you handsomely."
He turned his gaze toward Lekan.
"And Lekan… I will need your abilities in the future. Can I count on you?"
Lekan hesitated for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. "May I ask a question first?"
The Third Prince nodded. "Go ahead."
"Is there… any way for me to get back to my own world?"
Leo paused.
His expression darkened slightly as he took a slow breath, then exhaled with a sigh.
"There is," he admitted. "But there's a problem. In order to gather the power needed to send you back, we would have to sacrifice a thousand lives and expend an immense amount of magical energy. And even then…" He shook his head. "The chances of success are extremely low."
Lekan went quiet.
After a long pause, he looked up and gave a faint, resigned smile.
"I guess I better start getting used to living in this world, then."
Then, straightening his back, he said clearly, "I will follow you."
But in his heart, he added silently: It's not like I have a choice anyway.
A moment later, Rowan spoke as well. "I'll follow you too."
Leo gave them a satisfied nod. "I'm glad to hear that."
He turned and gestured for them to follow. They walked behind him as he stepped through the doors of the auction house.