The girl struggled to keep up with Arthur, her breathing ragged.
Arthur stopped in a secluded corner and turned to face the girl.
From the girl's hunched posture, it was clear that Honi's kicks had likely broken her ribs.
Yet, she hadn't uttered a single groan of pain the entire time.
The poor child was covered in bruises on her arms, thighs, face, and neck, and her body trembled slightly from fear and pain.
Arthur plucked a tender leaf from a wooden stick, knelt down, and offered it to her.
When he reached out, the girl visibly flinched, probably thinking Arthur was going to hit her.
"Take it," Arthur said softly.
The girl timidly took the tender leaf, and Arthur softly chanted a spell.
As his fingertips traced through the air, the tender leaf transformed into specks of green light, enveloping the girl.
A warm current began to flow through her body, like a mother's caress, and the intense pain gradually receded.
She involuntarily closed her eyes, greedily savoring the moment, even though it felt as unreal as a dream.
As the chanting faded, all the bruises on the girl's body vanished.
Arthur recalled his knowledge of "Dungeons and Dragons"—this girl was just an ordinary commoner; if nothing unexpected happened, a 1st-level healing spell from a cleric would be enough to cure all her injuries.
"You can open your eyes now," he said, "Tell me your name."
The girl frantically opened her eyes and replied, "Vanka, my lord, my name is Vanka."
"Very good, Vanka. From today on, you are a servant of the castle. Do well, understand?"
The girl nodded like a pecking chick, repeatedly saying, "I will, my lord, I certainly will."
"Come on, I'll take you to get something to eat; I'm hungry too."
Arthur turned and walked towards the castle kitchen.
-----------------
The kitchen was warm and inviting, the fire crackled, and the aroma from the stew pot made Vanka's stomach churn; she stared transfixed at the bubbling stew pot over the fire.
Vanka felt like she must be dreaming.
After losing her parents, enduring a near-fatal wandering, and suffering constant abuse and beatings from her uncle, she had thought she was already numb to everything around her.
Until this young man named Arthur miraculously healed her pain with magic and brought her to this warm, bright room.
Her nose twitched incessantly as she greedily inhaled the scent wafting from the stew pot.
"Get her a plate of food too," she heard Arthur order the stout woman in charge of the cooking.
The stout woman in charge of the cooking glanced at her sideways, her fierce gaze making Vanka feel as if she had done something wrong.
She couldn't help but overthink—perhaps she shouldn't have been staring at the fire and food, shouldn't have been sniffing like a dog.
She shrank back behind Arthur, wanting to grab his coattails, but due to her own dirty and dark hands, she ultimately didn't dare touch his magnificent, never-before-seen clothes.
"There's a bucket of water by the door. Go wash your hands and face, then come eat," Arthur commanded, turning around.
Vanka couldn't speak.
She was very afraid; everyone in the room was staring at her, which reminded her of her time in the refugee camp.
The men and women there had also looked at her like that.
Seeing that the girl hadn't moved, Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her towards the door.
Vanka's steps were hesitant, because the room was bright, warm, and comfortable, and her cold feet had begun to itch; she knew that if she stayed a little longer, her whole body would warm up.
But she couldn't disobey Arthur's command—in her heart, he was an angel descended from heaven.
Her mother had said that only angels could be so kind and gentle, so everything he said must be right.
When the cold water splashed on her hands, Vanka shivered, but she washed them exceptionally thoroughly.
When she re-entered the room, Vanka saw Arthur sitting and eating at a large, worn table.
She mustered her courage and walked to the table but dared not sit down; there were six or seven other servants dining at the table.
The room smelled of food and beer, men's sweat, damp woolen clothes, and the smoke from burning wood and grease dripping into the flames.
Large and small wooden barrels lined the walls, dark smoked meat with bones hung from the rafters, and the large table was laden with food and dishes.
A large piece of meat on a roasting spit had been removed from the fire, and grease was dripping onto the stone hearth.
The rich aroma made Vanka's stomach clench, and she swallowed repeatedly.
Arthur tapped the table, motioning for her to sit down.
Vanka carefully sat beside him, watching as he broke off a fist-sized piece of dark bread and cut a corner of cheese with a dining knife, placing them on her plate, which already held half a bowl of stew.
Then, Arthur got up again and cut a large piece from the bone-in smoked meat—a portion enough for an adult man.
When Vanka realized all this food was for her, she immediately ravenously stuffed the bread and cheese into her mouth.
"What is this?"
At that moment, the woman sitting next to Arthur spoke.
Vanka looked in the direction of the voice; she thought this woman was incredibly beautiful, more beautiful than any woman she had ever seen.
She had fiery red hair, dark, bright eyes, a slender figure, and an elegant, cat-like grace in her movements.
"New servant, Anna, I recruited her," Arthur said, cutting a piece of meat and offering it to Vanka.
The girl looked at the bread in her left hand, then at the cheese in her right, momentarily unsure which to put down.
Arthur saw the girl's dilemma, smiled, and casually placed the meat on her plate.
Anna leaned in and whispered into Arthur's ear, "My young master, recruiting servants is the steward's job. The Earl will think you're being frivolous and will punish you again."
Arthur shrugged indifferently and casually gave the maid's ample backside a squeeze.
Anna feigned a scowl, then gave Arthur a seductive smile.
By convention, Arthur, given his status, shouldn't have been squeezed into the kitchen to eat with the servants.
However, his predecessor was notoriously promiscuous and always loved to mingle with the maids, gradually developing the habit of dining in the kitchen.
The servants had long grown accustomed to it; in fact, many ambitious maids hoped to climb the social ladder through him.
Therefore, when they saw this dirty, emaciated girl, everyone's first reaction was that this noble young master had probably found a new plaything.
Only Anna didn't think so; she understood Arthur, at least in some aspects, she understood him well enough.
"My young master, when did you become so kind-hearted?" she continued to whisper, "There are plenty of girls like her on the streets; are you going to buy them all back?"
Arthur smiled and said, "Just call it a whim. Help her arrange a job."
As Arthur's mother's personal maid, Anna held considerable status among the servants, more than enough to arrange a job for a girl.
She looked at Vanka, who was holding her plate, even picking up breadcrumbs that had fallen on the table and putting them into her mouth.
She nodded and said, "Leave it to me. Oh, and be careful lately; a few of the animal trainers who received lashes have quite a few complaints about you."