NARRATOR

Lifting her skirt, she nearly ran to her father's carriage.

"Tell me, tell me, daughter, did you confirm it?" The old man, with his long beard streaked with brown and gray, looked at his daughter with piercing green eyes as she entered his resting quarters.

Laila closed the small door behind her and sat on the soft blanket, her face filled with excitement.

"Yes, yes, father! I confirmed it! She has a small red tattoo on her inner thigh, almost reaching her intimate area—a teardrop shape, or something like that," Laila recalled from when she examined Celine under the guise of tending to her wounds.

"I knew it! The Goddess is on our side. Such good fortune," the old sorcerer patted his thigh in satisfaction while taking a drag from his pipe.

"I've prepared the spell. You must make sure it enters her body—you can't fail!"

"But father, are you sure it won’t harm her? I feel a little bad about this... she and her brother saved me back then," Laila frowned, doubt creeping back into