Maria had no choice but to accept Conra’s proposal. Born in the slums, she was in a tight spot, unable to meet the tribute quota demanded by the organization. Conra’s offer to show her around the city in exchange for a fee was like a lifeline to her.

In the afternoon, Conra, guided by Maria, explored the streets of Valencia. They started at the Reina Square in front of the Valencia Church, where Sophia and her group were staying. After a quick tour of the square, they headed to the nearby Central Market.

The Valencia Central Market, established about a hundred years ago, was a traditional market that had maintained its prosperity to this day. It sold a variety of foods and goods, from seafood like the famous Carabineiro shrimp to seasonal agricultural products bathed in the sunlight of the Sea of Tethys, as well as salted ham, savory cheese, and edible snails essential for traditional paella.

Besides food stalls, the market was bustling with shops selling fabrics, hardware, leather goods, sundries, medicines, art supplies, and even barbershops. After enjoying some snacks, they visited the Turia Riverside, home to ‘La Lonja de la Seda,’ Valencia’s park and trade exchange. If the Central Market was a retail hub for locals, La Lonja de la Seda was the wholesale trade center, akin to the Merchant Guild in Rotaringia.

They later toured the Costa Blanca beach and the Peñíscola Castle, returning as the sun began to set.

“That was fun,” Conra said cheerfully, his face genuinely happy. Maria felt a twinge of jealousy seeing his carefree demeanor.

‘He must have been loved by everyone around him,’ she thought, contrasting his unblemished face with her own troubled life.

Maria silently grumbled, wondering if she could have enjoyed life as freely as Conra had she grown up in a similar environment. Yet, despite her thoughts, a faint smile lingered on her lips, indicating she too had enjoyed the day.

From the bell tower of the Micalet Church, overlooking Valencia, Conra suddenly asked Maria, “It’s already evening… Maria, would you like to have dinner before you go?”

Conra himself wasn’t sure why he suggested it, only feeling an unconscious premonition that he might regret letting her go. His invitation was almost a reflex to this unspoken feeling.

However, Maria gently but firmly declined, “Thank you, but I must go now. Just as you have your life, I have my reality.”

Conra, unusually insistent, then offered to escort her, citing the dangers of the night. Maria hesitated but eventually agreed, “Alright. The night is indeed dark. Then, may I ask for your escort, knight?”

“Leave it to me, miss,” Conra responded dramatically, making Maria laugh despite herself.

‘When was the last time I laughed like this?’ Maria wondered, realizing how rare genuine laughter was for her.

As they headed towards the slums where Maria lived, she thought, ‘Once he sees where I live, he’ll never come looking for me again.’

People from the slums were often distrusted, a common adage across the continent. Maria believed that people like her, born in the slums, were inherently deceitful and vile.

‘We are like poisonous mushrooms, growing unchecked under the guise of survival and desire. I am no exception,’ Maria mocked herself, feeling a pang in her chest at the thought of Conra leaving after escorting her.

‘Wait, what am I thinking? I only agreed to his request for money!’ Maria tried to dismiss her feelings, insisting that her actions were merely to meet the tribute quota.

‘Feeling happy or regretful is a luxury I can’t afford,’ she thought, trying to calm her swirling emotions.

As they navigated the dirty, complex back alleys, they finally arrived at Maria’s shabby hut. ‘It’s getting late. After he leaves, I must hurry to pay the tribute,’ Maria calculated, but her plans were shattered upon arrival.

“Hey, Maria. You’re late,” two men waiting at her hut greeted her, there to collect her tribute. Maria bit her lower lip silently.

“Our boss is waiting. Understand?” one man said, moving to grab Maria, but Conra stepped in, twisting the man’s arm.

“Ah!” the man screamed, collapsing, while the other frowned at Conra. Maria grabbed Conra’s sleeve, “Please, stop. This is my business. Please step back.”

Conra, silenced by her firm tone, reluctantly stepped back.

“You bastard! That hurt!” the man cursed, while the other smirked, making lewd comments about Maria’s future as a courtesan.

Maria, ignoring their insults, calmly stated, “I have the tribute. Take it and leave.”

But the men demanded more, making vulgar suggestions. Conra, unable to stand by, intervened, pinning both men down with a fierce glare.

“Sorry. I was told not to interfere, but I just couldn’t stand it,” Conra said, his expression terrifying.

Maria, shocked by Conra’s demeanor, remained silent.

“These guys don’t seem to understand boundaries. Maybe I should teach them a lesson,” Conra suggested, focusing his killing intent on the trembling men.

Conra, secretly hoping to take Maria away from the slums, watched her reaction, ready to act accordingly. However, Maria’s next words shattered his hopes.

“Please leave, Conra. Right now,” Maria said calmly, her face pale but resolute.

Conra, heartbroken, complied, realizing that despite his plans, he couldn’t force Maria to accept his help.