The woman who had welcomed them observed the scene and let out a low chuckle, almost as if she had caught on to the curious dynamic between the two of them.
Hehe. If they knew what happened that night in bed, no one in their right mind would think I'm her "daughter," Mara thought cynically, keeping her smile firmly in place.
"Mara, dear, if you'd like, you can go take a look around. I'll be here for a while," Alice commented casually, her attention already divided between her companion and the mental list of ingredients she needed.
"Okay, Mom," Mara replied with a light laugh—almost an amused sigh—as she stepped a few paces away.
At that, Alice turned her head slightly in her direction.
Even though the blindfold hid her eyes, the faint arch of her brows and the soft curve of her lips betrayed an expression somewhere between surprise and deep amusement.
She had caught the playful tone—the spontaneous moment of complicity that had colored Mara's words.
Feeling that gaze on her back, Mara chose not to turn around. She simply raised a hand in a casual farewell and ventured deeper into the flow of the market, letting the current of people pull her away from the safe anchor that was Alice.
Now, with a bit of distance and a veil of calm settling over her initial amazement, she could observe the city with different eyes.The shock of novelty had faded, replaced by a quieter curiosity.
Honestly, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal, she thought as her gaze drifted over stalls displaying gleaming armor and banners covered in letters she could somehow understand, despite not recognizing the language itself.
It wasn't that the fantasy world had stopped being amazing—it still was, in the most literal sense of the word.
But the wonder felt different now, less childish, more… subdued.
When that god—the one I now consider the greatest of all, if there even are others—asked me if I could choose what my reincarnated life would be like… honestly, I would've preferred something more modern, she recalled with irony, remembering her "conversation" with the entity that had thrown her into this world.
In her mind rose the image of a futuristic city: glass skyscrapers, silent floating vehicles, holographic screens, and technology that made life easy—or at least interesting in a different way.Or better yet, her same world.
Logan's old, gray, depressing world—but with money. With opportunities. With something that let her breathe without the constant weight of her miserable life.
Medieval worlds were never really my thing, she admitted inwardly, sidestepping an elf carrying a sack that smelled strongly of herbs.
They had always seemed picturesque in books and games, but reality included strong odors, unpaved streets, the ever-present threat of physical violence, and a clear lack of efficient sewage.
But then, as an immediate counterpoint to her silent complaint, a slow smile curved her lips.
Since I'm already here, and everything so far has been incredibly good, I won't complain.
With that, memories from the past few nights flooded Mara's mind: Mordred's wild intensity, Cecilia's unexpected submission, Alice's protective tenderness, Rae's nervous sweetness, the perverted nun… even Beckie's drunken clumsiness.
Mara let her gaze wander over the crowd, lingering on the shapes of the women passing by: a dancing elf, a scarred human warrior, a scantily clad sorceress.
It's not like I dislike being surrounded by beautiful women, she added with an inner honesty she no longer bothered to hide, especially when all of them, one way or another, want to… use me.
That last word held no negative meaning in her mind—she now considered it a source of pleasure.
The next time I meet that god who threw me into this world, I should definitely thank him, Mara thought as she watched the ebb and flow of people in the market.
The idea formed with surprising clarity, free of irony or resentment.
She couldn't deny it, no matter how hard she tried to look for a hidden angle or some karmic trap—she had been living quite well.
Better, in fact, than she had ever dreamed of in her previous life.
Better even than someone like her—a nobody with no future—deserved.
It wasn't just the novelty of reincarnation; it was the chain of events, so improbably favorable that it bordered on the absurd.
The miracle hadn't just been surviving—it had been landing directly in the paradise of her most hidden fantasies.
She vividly recalled that first afternoon: Mordred—beautiful, feline, confident—approaching her on the street without preamble.
How much do you charge?
It hadn't been a dream.
It had been real—and not only had she accepted, she'd been dragged straight into a threesome, plunging her into a spiral of pleasure and complicity that still made her cheeks burn just thinking about it.
And then, as if that weren't enough, there was the gift that came afterward.
Or perhaps it had already been there, latent, waiting to be discovered: her skill.
Charm, she thought, testing the name in her mind.
It made sense. What other logical explanation could there be for women like Alice, with her serene mystery; Cecilia, with her icy pride; Rae, with her noble shyness; or even the nun with her perverse smile, being drawn to her that way?
It wasn't her personality—she still felt a bit like an impostor in this body.
Nor was it her experience—if anything, in many ways she was more inexperienced than ever.
So by elimination, all of this had to be the work of a Skill.
A passive ability, subtle yet omnipresent, that made the women around her not merely tolerate her, but want her.
That made them desire her closeness, her touch, her… service.
It was the only constant variable so far.
A sigh escaped her—not of worry, but of genuine awe.
That god didn't just give me a second chance… he gave me the golden key to exactly what, deep down, I'd always wanted, Mara thought, feeling nothing but gratitude toward that god.
With that final thought, Mara decided she'd wandered the market long enough.
She turned around and began weaving her way back through the crowd, searching for Alice's figure among the sea of people.