Chapter 3: A Pledge of Trust and Hope

Elin froze stiffly, only blinking her eyes.

It was too awkward to remain standing in the corridor, so Luke broke the silence first.

“Would you mind if we continued this conversation inside?”

“…Yes.”

Finally, Elin moved with stiff, jerky motions.

The trembling stopped once Natia disappeared.

Elin now looked like a broken doll with its strings cut.

Creaaak—

The door hinges screeched as Elin’s room was revealed.

“This is my room.”

“Pardon my intrusion.”

A desk, a chair, a bed.

On the bed sat a worn-out rabbit doll.

This was supposed to be the room of a noblewoman?

It was sparse to the point of desolation.

“May I sit down for a moment?”

“…Yes.”

Luke took a seat on the chair, while Elin sat on the bed opposite him.

She kept glancing toward the door, as if preparing to bolt the moment someone entered.

He had hoped to start a conversation, but in this state, it was impossible.

“Lady Elin, would you like a cup of tea?”

“…?”

Elin blinked her large eyes at him.

Luke took some tea leaves out of his bag.

“Chamomile. It’s said to cure insomnia in an instant. You look tired; it might help to rest for a bit.”

“It’s not bedtime, though…?”

No, you definitely need sleep now.

Otherwise, you might collapse.

“It’s fine. I’ll wake you up soon enough.”

“Hmm…”

Her unfocused eyes seemed to question why she needed to sleep at all.

In the meantime, Luke pulled out a magical kettle and brewed the tea.

He hadn’t prepared the kettle in advance; he’d just sneaked it into his subspace from the reception room earlier. He planned to return it later.

“Be careful; it’s hot.”

Elin held the teacup with her small hands.

“You’ll really wake me up?”

There was no distrust in her faded eyes, only fear.

“If my father finds out, he’ll be furious…”

Fear.

It was the primary reason Elin couldn’t sleep.

It was also an emotion Luke intended to gradually erase from her life.

“I’ll take responsibility. Don’t worry and rest.”

“…Really?”

Luke nodded and held out his pinky finger.

“I promise, with a pinky swear.”

“…What?”

She seemed not to understand the gesture’s meaning.

“If I break my word, you can cut off my finger.”

“That won’t be necessary…”

Elin sipped the tea cautiously, her gaze flickering with faint apprehension.

Perhaps she felt a slight fear of Luke in that moment, though it was probably just her imagination.

Soon, Elin drained her teacup and fell asleep instantly.

How exhausted must she have been to fall asleep so quickly in front of a stranger?

“Much better.”

Fortunately, the tea seemed effective; her face appeared peaceful.

Luke pulled the blanket up to her chest.

That’s when he noticed.

A tiny foot sticking out from under the blanket.

The small sole was covered in bruises, dark and blue.

Her instep bore scars from wounds and blisters that had burst.

His brow furrowed instinctively.

Yes, Elin had been treated like this.

The air in the room felt heavy.

Nine times he had failed to save her.

Elin Berteine, the protagonist of Raising the Noblewoman.

Despised by everyone, she was right in front of him now.

A fleeting memory of Elin’s gruesome end flashed through his mind.

Luke shook his head.

“This time will be different.”

Elin would find happiness.

Because Luke would make it happen.

“Once she wakes up…”

As Elin slept soundly for the first time in a long while, Luke mentally organized his plans.

“…Hmm?”

Elin woke up exactly four hours later.

“Did you sleep well?”

Luke set down his coffee and stood from his chair.

Elin blinked at him, still half-asleep, and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

“…Ah!”

She jumped slightly in place, her messy hair bouncing along.

It was quite an expressive reaction for Elin.

“My father didn’t come looking for me, did he…?”

To ask such a thing right after waking up.

Suppressing a sigh, Luke answered.

“No, the Duke did not come.”

“…Phew…”

“Is there a reason he would?”

“Not really…”

Elin shook her head as she clutched her chest in relief.

When her fear subsided, her expression turned eerily blank again.

“You seem a bit less tired.”

Her dark circles had almost halved in size after just four hours of sleep.

For now, he decided: a nightly tea ritual would be necessary.

“Why is it so warm here?”

Elin tilted her head, clutching the blanket tightly.

“I heated it with magic.”

With a snap of his fingers, the warmth in the room instantly dissipated.

Elin shivered as the chill from the storage-like room set in.

Luke reactivated the magic to bring back the warmth.

“You’ll learn to do this yourself someday, Lady Elin.”

“…Hmm.”

Her already dark expression dimmed further at those words.

Luke noticed her hesitance.

“If there’s something on your mind, feel free to share.”

“…Even if you teach me magic, it’d be useless.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I can’t handle mana at all. And, well, I’m bad at everything else too.”

As in the game, Elin had no talents—not even in magic.

It was the reason she was hated by everyone.

“You just don’t know how yet. That’s why I’m here—to teach you.”

“…How?”

He offered her a kind smile.

“I wasn’t skilled at magic from the start either. I was much like you—lacking in talent.”

“…Really?”

It was a lie. The Bucklin family was renowned for their magical lineage, and Luke had been gifted since birth.

“Yes, I struggled through a difficult childhood because of it.”

Even so, he decided to keep the truth hidden for now.

A harmless white lie could offer hope.

“When I enrolled in the Academy, everything changed. Even someone like me could learn magic there.”

It was a stretch—he’d almost been kidnapped by professors multiple times due to his exceptional abilities.

“As a top graduate, I’ve come to teach you personally. It’s a rare opportunity, to say the least.”

“…Really?”

“Of course. With effort, anyone can succeed.”

Elin’s vacant eyes sparked with faint hope.

She asked hesitantly, “Can I…be like you someday?”

A tiny ember of hope.

Luke’s task was to nurture it into a flame.

“Absolutely. But there are two things you must do.”

“…?”

“First, treat me casually.”

Elin blinked.

“Casually?”

“Yes. Speak informally; no need for formalities.”

“…Alright?”

“Second, don’t worry about my reactions.”

“That’s the same as the first one, though.”

“No, it means you don’t have to worry about me punishing you for anything.”

Elin’s eyes widened slightly, as if such a thing was unimaginable.

“And no matter what happens, I will never report you to the Duke or any other servants.”

Luke offered her his pinky again.

“But…if I make mistakes, shouldn’t I be punished?”

To her, punishment was normal—a daily occurrence, a fact of life.

It was clear that correcting her distorted sense of normalcy would need to be part of Luke’s plans.

“Punishment isn’t the only way to teach. Would you like to see how I handle it?”

“…No.”

Elin clutched her blanket tightly, her expression wary.

“Alright, but remember this: I’m always on your side.”

“My…side?”

The phrase sounded strange to her ears.

Elin muttered it under her breath a few times.

Growl.

A soft noise echoed through the room.

Luke looked at her with a slight smile.

“Are you hungry?”

Elin nodded.

“Let’s go get dinner, then.”

She hesitated but eventually got up.

As she moved, Luke noticed her pained expression—the faint wince that spoke of bruised feet and aching legs.

He gently scooped her up.

“I’ll bring the meal here. Stay put.”

For the first time, her wariness faded slightly.

And with that, Luke left to ensure Elin’s recovery could begin in earnest.