That day marked the 100th day since the annihilation of the Western's Continent's cursed Imperial House of Iver.
The members of Iver were said to always appear depressed, were distrustful of others, along with an obsession with cleanliness, which is why they always wore gloves.
"They must of hated mingling with those of lower status."
There was no real reason to curse the already ruined imperial family, but people spoke as if they had been waiting for them to fall into ruin.
Nonetheless, Iver was their enemy, so the more people trampled upon the family's achievements, the more superior they felt.
Of course, the story of a fallen imperial family was meaningless to those who resided who resided far away in the outskirts.
The reason that day held a great significance for 17-year-old Ronée, the daughter of Count Rieda, had little to do with the eradication of a distant imperial family. It was all because of the boy she met that day.
***
It was a coincidence.
It was quite a coincidence that Ronée de Rieda, a daughter of a noble family, encountered a wagon carrying slaves.
The wagon was passing through the Rieda's territory, located in the outskirts of the Empire. Through the barred windows of the wagon was a scarcely visible visage of a child with an empty expression upon his face.
'He doesn't seem like a child.'
That was the first impression he imprinted upon Ronée. His dusty hair, which had a gray-like appearance, had long since lost its vitality. His blue eyes were akin to the darkness of the deep sea
It might have been that child-like appearance that caused him to ensnare her. Or maybe it was the memories of her brother, who died of an illness at an early age, that prevented her from turning away.
"I will buy that child," said Ronée.
Ronée, a young aristocrat of small statue, focused her gaze on the child. His wrists, trapped in handcuffs, were bloody, and his wounds were covered in dirt and dust.
It was quite apparent that the child had been locked up in the wagon for a long time while enduring the journey across the Empire.
"Ah, a buyer has finally appeared. But this child is defective...are you fine with that?" Recognizing that she was of nobility, the coachman glanced at the child warily.
"His pretty face has attracted so many young noblewomen as potential buyers, but they all gave up in the end."
'Why?' Ronée attention returned to the child. His appearance was almost obscured by dust. She glanced at his wounds again before dropping her gaze. Suddenly, the child focused his eyes upon Ronée.
"......"
Sharp eyes. She didn't know if it was a suitable expression for a child, but his venomous eyes were directed at her. His glare turned murderous, as if he was going to kill her somehow.
He bit his lip and blood began to drip from his lip, but even then, his malicious stare did not relent.
"..."
Ronée could see his pride.
Pride that would not allow himself to be sold.
Unconsciously, she whispered to the boy, "Humiliation is temporary."
The coachman was busy talking about the boy's history, Ronée pretended to listen but continued to speak to the boy.
"I'm against slavery."
