Chapter 2

“Then I’ll leave everything in your hands, Master. Please, I’m begging you.”

Until the very end, Berta looked at the old woman with pleading eyes.

The old woman gave a small nod.

When Berta still couldn’t bring herself to leave, the man nearby cleared his throat.

“W-Well then, I’ll be going now…”

Forcing her reluctant feet to move, Berta finally headed toward the door.

The man escorted her there and spoke with the same gentle smile he had worn from the beginning.

“Please don’t worry too much, my lady. Our master isn’t just good at reading fortunes—she’s also very good at making the source of problems disappear completely. Though, of course…”

Raising a finger to his lips, he winked playfully.

“That part is a secret, you understand?”

Berta hurriedly nodded.

Apparently satisfied, the man opened the door and bowed politely.

As Berta disappeared into the darkness outside, the old wooden door creaked shut behind her.

She glanced back cautiously.

The building had looked as though it might collapse at any moment when she first arrived, but now it seemed to shine even more brilliantly than the Imperial Palace itself.

The man returned inside.

With an indifferent expression, he looked at the old woman slumped face-down across the table.

“Wake up, Master. How can you already be exhausted when you didn’t even do anything?”

“You know nothing. If it looks that easy, why don’t you do all the talking yourself?”

A completely different voice emerged from the old woman.

It was the voice of a young woman.

“I? Then you’d have to be the one handling appearances, Master. That might be difficult considering you’re a wanted criminal.”

Unable to tolerate his teasing any longer, the old woman abruptly raised her head.

The oversized robe slipped backward.

A cascade of lush crimson hair spilled over her pale face like blooming roses.

“Martini.”

Cold killing intent flashed in her deep green eyes.

“…Yes, ma’am.”

The man, Martini, immediately clasped his hands and bowed respectfully.

The only female wanted criminal in the Pael Empire.

Crimson hair the color of fresh blood.

Deep green eyes like blades of grass across an open meadow.

The infamous murderer—

Rosalyn.

She swept her red hair back and sighed.

“Want to get quietly cut down by that wanted criminal?”

“Absolutely not!”

Martini answered loudly.

“You’re all mouth, honestly.”

Rosalyn glared at him from head to toe.

Martini grinned shamelessly and poked the dimple in his cheek.

“Come on. The rest of me’s alive too.”

“Should I make your epitaph read: ‘Martini lived happily until today’?”

The smile vanished from Martini’s face.

Bowing again, he spoke solemnly.

“I humbly suggest that punishment would suit Dovak Edik better than me, Master.”

It was such a smooth change of subject that it bordered on artistry.

Rosalyn pulled off her black gloves and looked at him with annoyance.

“Go clean out the gambling dens. Find out where he usually goes, how much he’s lost so far, and how much debt he’s buried himself in. You know the drill.”

“Of course. I’ve been doing this for three years now.”

Martini puffed out his chest proudly.

The sight only made Rosalyn narrow her eyes.

“But aren’t you coming with me, Master?”

“Like someone said, I’m a wanted criminal.”

“Those places are dens of criminals anyway.”

“Someone there might be obsessed with collecting bounties.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Martini pouted.

“By the way, how did you end up becoming a wanted criminal in the first place?”

Rosalyn stared at him silently.

The pressure in that gaze was enough.

Before her mood could worsen, Martini hurriedly prepared to leave.

He tucked his long blond hair beneath a brown beret and put on a pair of thick gold-rimmed glasses.

Turning proudly toward Rosalyn, he struck a pose.

“Now I look like a complete amateur, right?”

“Sure. Whatever. Just get going already.”

Rosalyn waved him off lazily.

Her dismissive gesture was so obvious that Martini looked genuinely hurt.

She ignored him completely.

Eventually, he had no choice but to leave.

“I’ll be back, Master.”

“Bring me a Galine sandwich.”

“Master, do you have no conscience at all?”

“And orange juice.”

Knowing further complaints would only hurt himself, Martini shook his head and left the reception room.

Alone at last, Rosalyn stretched her stiff body after spending so long hunched over in disguise.

“A gambling addict will crawl back to the casino even after losing a hand. Maybe I should cut off his legs too…”

She casually muttered the terrifying words while shuffling a deck of cards.

One purple card slipped from her fingers and landed on the table.

The card depicted a tower struck by lightning.

Rosalyn’s expression immediately turned cold.

A bad feeling settled in her stomach.

Quickly, she put her gloves back on and pulled up her robe.

Not long afterward, a knock sounded at the entrance.

Of all times for a customer to arrive—when Martini isn’t here.

Clicking her tongue softly, Rosalyn approached the door as slowly as possible.

When she opened it, she found someone standing outside.

Someone dressed just as suspiciously as she was.

For a moment, Rosalyn debated whether to let the visitor in or throw them out.

No matter how carefully she hid her identity, there was no telling how far rumors had spread.

And this was the capital—a place filled with enemies on every side.

Deciding that one suspicious person was enough, she was about to speak when the visitor suddenly held out a small notebook.

Scrawled across it were rough, barely legible words:

“Success fee: 200 gold.”

Rosalyn’s eyes widened.

Two hundred gold.

An enormous amount—roughly equal to a minor provincial noble’s yearly living expenses.

The visitor produced a heavy pouch and shook it.

The clinking of gold coins echoed loudly.

With that much money… I could buy a new identity!

Her emerald eyes sparkled.

“Please, come inside.”

Disguising her voice, Rosalyn ushered the suspicious guest indoors.

The visitor sat down before she did and dropped the pouch onto the table.

Thunk.

Rosalyn swallowed.

At last! My life as a fake fortune teller is finally over!

Her mind raced.

Whatever happened, she had to secure that money.

“What brings you to such a humble place…?”

She spoke casually while trying to gather information.

Normally, dealing with noble clients was easy. She already knew plenty about them through rumors and gossip.

But this guest was different.

She knew absolutely nothing.

While she examined the visitor, they pushed the notebook toward her again.

“Deliver this letter to Duke Cervellion and bring back a reply.”

Rosalyn’s face instantly stiffened.

Why him of all people…?

Among all the nobles in the empire, why did it have to be Cervellion?

She bit the inside of her cheek.

The House of Cervellion—the empire’s only ducal family—had a long history with her.

In fact, they were largely responsible for making her the empire’s only female wanted criminal.

The notebook flipped to another page.

“Advance payment: 50 gold. Success fee: 200 gold.”

Rosalyn hesitated.

The sum was far too tempting to reject because of old grudges.

“Does it matter how I do it… as long as I bring back a reply?”

The visitor shook their head.

“How am I supposed to confirm the reply has been delivered?”

The visitor said nothing.

Apparently they hadn’t prepared an answer for that.

Suspicious didn’t begin to describe them.

What if it was a trap?

A scheme designed to capture her—or kill her?

Rosalyn’s eyes turned cold.

Losing a fortune capable of changing her life was painful.

But money would be useless if she ended up dead.

“Without a proper contact, I cannot accept this commission.”

Her voice was firm.

“Please leave.”

The visitor ignored her.

After a moment, they raised an open palm.

Rosalyn frowned beneath her hood.

The visitor tapped the notebook with a finger and waved the open hand again.

Her gaze returned to the words:

Advance payment. Success fee.

Then realization struck.

“Five… times?”

The visitor nodded vigorously.

It was absurd.

“Good heavens…”

The exclamation slipped out before she could stop it.

The visitor pulled out a wax-sealed envelope and offered it to her.

Then they waved their hand again.

Five times two hundred gold.

One thousand gold.

A sum so vast that ordinary people would never hear of it in their entire lives.

Rosalyn clenched her teeth.

Could she really walk away from an opportunity this large simply because it was dangerous?

After a long silence, she finally pulled the envelope toward herself.

“What’s the deadline?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the visitor held up three fingers.

Three days.

Within three days, she had to infiltrate the Cervellion estate, deliver the letter, and return with a reply.

The difficulty was as outrageous as the reward.

Rosalyn swallowed a sigh and nodded.

The visitor immediately rose from their seat, as though their task was complete.

She watched them until they vanished entirely.

Only after the door creaked shut did she turn her attention back to the envelope and the bag of gold.

“Cervellion…”

Old memories surfaced.

A silver-haired boy crying silent tears in a sea of blood.

A red-haired girl pulling him away as they fled.

“It’s all in the past anyway.”

Rosalyn muttered to herself.

But there was a bitterness in her voice that she could not hide.