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The Runaway Maid is Loved by the Archmage - Chapter 64

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  2. The Runaway Maid is Loved by the Archmage
  3. Chapter 64
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※ This book contains depictions of coercive/dubcon/noncon acts, violence, and immorality. Reader discretion is advised.

The Magic Tower was vast and strangely structured. Lutan had once explained that it was because the space was twisted, severed, and reconnected in unusual ways.

Roina simply wanted to go somewhere open, and as if understanding her wish, the spirit flew ahead to guide her. She thought she was descending a staircase, but when she hesitantly opened the underground door the spirit had led her to, she found herself at the very top floor of the tower.

“Wow.”

The wind swept through Roina’s hair. Warm sunlight poured directly down from above. The top floor of the tower was surprisingly spacious, filled with gently swaying grass and wildflowers. It felt like she had stumbled upon a secret garden atop a mountaintop, all to herself.

“Should I call this a rooftop garden?”

She let out a small chuckle. At the sound of her laughter, the spirit blinked and twirled excitedly around her, as if her joy was enough to make it leap with happiness.

Then, seemingly from nowhere, the spirit unfurled a checkered blanket and spread it out. When she carefully sat down, the spirit bustled about before disappearing once more.

Moments later, it reappeared, carrying a woven rattan basket. When Roina took the basket and opened it, she found a carefully prepared sandwich stuffed with smoked ham and fresh vegetables, along with a glass bottle filled with milk.

“……Thank you.”

‘This spirit always does its best to comfort me.’

A warmth spread in her chest at the thought.

‘……Why did I act that way toward him?’

She replayed the moment in her mind. Lutan hadn’t even forcibly tried to stop her. Yet she had flared up and spoken as if making a declaration.

In truth, she had no intention of leaving anytime soon. She could have taken her time and talked it through more calmly later.

A small wave of regret washed over her. But even if she went back now, the only difference would be the timing—she would still say the same thing. That thought made her feel less troubled.

Perhaps in this world, her words were a luxury. In this hierarchical society, where slaves, serfs, commoners, and nobles alike had no choice in their own lives, such thoughts were considered absurd.

A bitter taste lingered on her tongue.

Yet even so, she would not stop being human. To think, to move forward, and to make choices—those were the very rights of humanity.

The spirit, which looked like a cluster of white light, landed beside her and stretched out slightly, as if basking in the sunlight. It reminded her of a glowing rice cake.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t given you a name yet, have I?”

The spirit immediately soared into the air, spinning in large circles before nodding enthusiastically, its body bobbing up and down.

“You’re really fine with me choosing your name?”

The spirit, made of soft, white light, nodded in agreement at an even faster pace. It truly seemed eager to receive a name from her.

Roina hesitated. She had been putting it off, thinking she wasn’t particularly good at naming things. But seeing how much the spirit wanted a name, she felt guilty about delaying any longer.

“Hmm, I want to give you a name with meaning… Ah, how about Fides?”

In Latin, it meant faith, promise, and trust. It was a word she had always liked before coming here.

The spirit flickered faintly, as if pausing in thought, making it unclear whether it liked the name or not.

“Fides. As a nickname, I’ll call you Fia.”

She carefully placed her hand on top of the spirit and stroked it. The sensation was wonderful. This soft bundle of light was smooth, fluffy, and nearly weightless.

Just then, the spirit suddenly radiated a brilliant light. But unlike its usual gentle glow, this was something entirely different—like an explosion of brightness, a flash of light similar to a camera flash.

“F-Fides?”

The light soon faded, and where the glowing orb had been, there now stood a small, adorable boy with fluffy, cream-colored hair.

“Master!”

The boy exclaimed, lifting both hands high into the air before bursting into gleeful laughter.

Roina stared at him, utterly stunned. Her hand was still resting on his head, exactly where it had been before. When she moved her hand to stroke his hair, it felt almost the same as before. If the spirit had once been like a soft rice cake, then now it was more like a fluffy ball of fur.

“Uh… Fides?”

“Yes! Master gave me a name! I’m Fides now!”

The boy beamed, rubbing his cheek against her palm. That same soft, rice cake-like texture was still there.

Roina was completely dumbfounded.

How had this happened?

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