Rose left the room soon after, her thoughts heavy and her body aching in ways that didn’t quite make sense. The room she’d been staying in was reserved for critically injured adventurers—people who braved monsters, danger, and war. She couldn’t help but find the irony in it. Her life felt just as out of place there as she did in the city itself. A peasant woman from Marchenne, taking up a bed meant for hardened heroes. Crippled heroes, she thought wryly, shaking her head as she made her way down the dimly lit hall.

  The guild’s main counter came into view, and Sarah’s sharp green eyes found her almost immediately. The woman waved her over with an ease that suggested she’d been waiting. Reluctantly, Rose approached, her steps slow and deliberate.

  "How are you feeling?" Sarah asked, her tone calm but probing.

  Rose hesitated, glancing down at herself. Her limbs still felt foreign, her movements slightly stiff. “A bit… off,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended. “Some parts don’t feel quite right.”

  Sarah shrugged lightly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re alive.”

  “Yeah,” Rose muttered, forcing a weak grin. “Feels like it.”

  But Sarah’s expression shifted, her demeanor turning more serious. “I’ve looked into you,” she said plainly.

  Rose froze, her stomach knotting. The words hung in the air, heavy with implications. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously, a sharp edge creeping into her tone.

  “Rose of Villance,” Sarah began, her voice measured, “second daughter of a father from the same village—a village where families are only expected to have one daughter. Keeping a second is practically considered blasphemy.” Her green eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “And yet, here you are.”

  Rose’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Your point?” she asked stiffly, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

  Sarah leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the counter. “My point is that there’s no reason for you to be taking care of young Dahlia.”

  “She’s my sister’s kid,” Rose replied quickly, her eyes darting to the wooden counter as her fingers began tracing its grain. She avoided Sarah’s gaze, hoping to end the conversation before it could dig any deeper.

  “I don’t think that’s a good enough reason,” Sarah countered, her tone steady, almost too calm. “She’s your sister’s child, yes, but from what I’ve gathered, you and your sister have been estranged for a long time. That’s the whole reason you came to the city, isn’t it?”

  Rose’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’re quite informed,” she said coldly, her voice low.

  “The guild has to be,” Sarah replied, entirely unbothered by the venom in Rose’s tone. Her calm demeanor only fueled Rose’s unease. “Now let me get to the point.”

  With practiced precision, Sarah reached under the counter and pulled out a heavy bag. It hit the wooden surface with a resounding clink, the unmistakable sound of coins shifting inside. Rose’s eyes flicked to the bag, her stomach churning. She didn’t need to open it to know what it held—a sum far beyond what she’d ever seen.

  “This,” Sarah said evenly, her hand resting lightly on the bag, “is enough to pay off all your debts and let you live comfortably. Whether you choose to keep working or not is entirely up to you.”

  Rose stared at the bag, her throat tightening. Her gaze flicked back to Sarah, who remained poised and expressionless. “So, what’s the catch?” she asked, her voice flat but carrying a tremor beneath the surface.

  Sarah raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into something like amusement. “The catch?” she echoed, as though the question itself were ridiculous. “There’s no catch.”

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  Rose let out a bitter laugh, her voice trembling but gaining strength with each word. “You healed me with a priest,” she said, her eyes locking onto Sarah’s with growing intensity. “A service that costs far more than any commoner could afford. And now you’re offering to buy my child for a lot of money.”

  Sarah shook her head slowly, her expression remaining calm, her voice unwavering. “It’s no more than what she’s worth,” she said plainly. “You’ll either accept this offer or you won’t. There is no middle ground.”

  Rose’s hand moved before she could think, shoving the bag off the counter. It fell to Sarah’s feet with a heavy, metallic thud. The sound echoed in the quiet space as Rose’s glare hardened.

  “And that’s the problem,” Rose hissed, her voice low and sharp, trembling with restrained fury. “What the hell are you spending so much money on a kid for?”

  Her eyes narrowed, her anger rising with every word. “More than that,” she continued, her voice gaining strength, “why was I turned away when I tried to join the adventurer’s guild? I’m an adult—someone who can think for themselves—but you’ll take in a child? What sense does that make?”

  Her tone turned venomous, her words laced with bitterness, but Sarah’s calm demeanor didn’t falter. The woman didn’t flinch, nor did she seem remotely rattled by Rose’s outburst. Instead, she bent down, picking up the bag of coins with deliberate care before placing it back on the counter.

  “Adventuring can be quite lucrative,” Sarah began, brushing off Rose’s fury with an air of practiced detachment. “Sure, not every task is glorious or rewarding, but the guild is more than just a miscellaneous quest board. It’s a system, and it’s not built for everyone. We don’t take just anyone off the street.”

  She leaned forward slightly, her sharp green eyes locking onto Rose’s. “Children are good learners. Adults? Not so much. We take in those who can grow, adapt, and serve the guild long-term. If you had proved yourself worthy—truly worth the effort—you might have joined. But the guild is about give and take. Right now, we’re giving Dahlia a future.”

  Her expression darkened, her tone sharpening. “And when she grows up, she’ll have opportunities to earn far more than you can imagine. Many of them—those we raise—are generous enough to repay the guild for the opportunities we gave them. It’s not a requirement, but it’s a cycle that works. And it’s why we thrive.”

  Rose’s jaw clenched, her teeth grinding as Sarah’s words sank in. “So, that’s it,” she said bitterly, her voice thick with contempt. “You give them a chance, then guilt them into paying you later. You’re just grooming them to be grateful enough to hand over their earnings.”

  “It’s optional,” Sarah replied with a casual shrug, her voice annoyingly even. “But almost all of them choose to pay it forward. After all, most of our adventurers crawled their way out of the streets. We gave them something no one else would.”

  Her eyes hardened, and she raised a hand to cut off Rose before she could respond. “And no, I don’t care what you have to say about it. You’ve already agreed that Dahlia will continue working with the guild. You won’t stop her, so be a good girl, take the money, and leave her to us.”

  Rose straightened, her eyes blazing with unshakable resolve. “Fat chance,” she said, her voice steel. “She’s mine, and I won’t give her up for anything in the world.”

  Without another word, Rose turned and began walking away, her back rigid with defiance. Each step was deliberate, her boots striking the ground with quiet resolve.

  “Why?” Sarah’s voice rang out behind her, sharp and piercing through the heavy air. “What’s the catch for you?”

  Rose kept walking, her pace unbroken, but Sarah wasn’t finished.

  “Why are you so willing to keep taking care of a child that isn’t even your own?” Sarah pressed, her tone cold and demanding. “It can’t be for your sister—you barely knew her anymore. You know as well as I do that Dahlia’s future here will be brighter, safer, better than anything you could ever offer her. So why keep insisting she’s yours?”

  The words echoed in the space between them, biting and relentless. Sarah’s questions hung in the air, waiting for an answer.

  But Rose didn’t stop. She didn’t turn around. Her steps remained steady, her back straight, her head held high. The weight of Sarah’s accusations didn’t slow her; they only added to the fire burning in her chest.

  She didn’t need to say a word. Her answer was clear in the way she walked away, unwavering. Because Dahlia wasn’t just a responsibility or a burden to her. She wasn’t some tool to barter with or a life to gamble on the guild’s promises.

  Dahlia was hers.

  The thought burned bright in Rose’s mind, fueling her resolve. She’s mine because I chose her. I chose her when no one else would. And I’ll keep choosing her every day, no matter what you or anyone else says.

  Sarah’s voice didn’t follow her again, and soon the guild was behind her. Rose’s heart pounded as she stepped into the cold air outside, the sharp wind biting at her skin. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her breath misting in front of her as she walked away, her path lit by the faint light of the city’s lanterns.

  She didn’t need to say a word. Her answer was clear enough.