TSWKM 15

Chapter 15

When we got close to Kayan Knight, Hayden stopped me. He lifted his wrist to check the time and then stepped back.

“Milady, you should go in first.”

He must have thought it would draw too much attention if we entered together. It seemed like his way of being considerate.

Hayden stretched out his hand, as if asking for my cloak, but I shook my head.

“And you?”

“I’ll go in thirty minutes later.”

“If I arrive on time but you come late, isn’t that stranger? I’ll go in after one hour. You should enter first, Hayden.”

If Hayden was late, the others would gossip and sneer endlessly. As much as I resented him in this time period, I didn’t want to see him mocked like that.

“One hour?”

“Yes. I need a little rest. I stayed up all night and I’m tired.”

I pretended to yawn and handed him back the cloak. He stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

Honestly, I thought he might glare at me with resentment. But his voice, as usual, was calm and without emotion.

“…Understood.”

He wrapped the cloak around himself and fastened it easily, as if he was used to dressing alone.

Not bad.
At his age, my older brother couldn’t even put on his boots by himself and once ran away wearing indoor slippers.

“It’s nine now. You must arrive by ten.”

“What? Ah, yes.”

I smiled as I answered, but Hayden bit his lip, looking uneasy.

“…One hour later. Do you understand?”

“I have a watch too.”

Even though I reassured him, he still looked worried before reluctantly leaving.

Only after I had completely walked away from the alley near Kayan Knight did I let a mischievous smile spread across my face.

One hour felt too short.

Since I had official permission to be late, I planned to eat lunch before going to work.

“If I’d known, I should’ve set aside that flowerpot yesterday.”

I didn’t think it was really abandoned. It had been sitting there for a long time, so I meant to return it quickly.

Besides, Goludian Street was a neighborhood of rich merchants and nobles. If anyone reported me for taking it, it would be embarrassing.

“…Maybe I should at least tell them I borrowed it?”

I had plenty of time anyway. So I started walking toward that house.

Goludian Street, except for a few main roads, didn’t allow carts or street traffic.

From far away, the wind carried the bustling sounds of the marketplace, but here the streets were spotless and quiet, without even a scrap of trash.

“Where was it again?”

It was a blue-colored house.

Since there was only one street, I quickly spotted the place.

At the entrance, behind a low iron fence and a small garden, a boy around my age was sweeping the yard.

I wonder when little Amon will grow that big.

The boy turned sluggishly at the sound of my shoes. His sleepy voice answered:

“Who are you?”

He glanced briefly at the bag of apples in my hand.

“I’m Carl Suilen, Holy Knight of the Seorus Temple. Are you a servant of this house?”

“Yes.”

Though it was an unexpected visit so early in the morning, he didn’t look surprised. He simply nodded.

But his attitude… was irritating.

I had given my name, yet he didn’t show proper respect. He even shifted his broom as if ready to keep sweeping before our conversation was over.

Normally, I’d have scolded him, but since I was someone who had died once already, I decided to let it pass.

“Wasn’t there a flowerpot here that went missing?”

I put one hand in my coat pocket and pointed with my chin to the corner of the garden.

The boy’s eyes moved lazily. The pale mark of the old pot was still visible where it had been left for so long.

He blinked and stifled a yawn before nodding.

“Oh, the thrown-away pot?”

“Yes. I took it.”

“….”

I thought he’d react somehow, but he just looked at me blankly with an annoyingly indifferent expression.

What’s that supposed to mean?
Those eyes almost looked like pity.

“Yes, I understand.”

Then he simply resumed sweeping.

I stared down at his head in disbelief, silently cursing.

Did that servant just ignore me?

My teeth clenched, but I forced a polite smile.

“I’ll be returning it soon.”

“No need. I’m sure the master forgot about that pot.”

“Oh, so you’re saying it’s mine now?”

“Yes.”

He nodded carelessly. I laughed out loud in disbelief.

I hadn’t intended to make trouble. I only wanted to quietly smooth things over since technically I had stolen it.

“Are you the owner of that pot?”

“Ah, well… no.”

“Then maybe this mansion is yours?”

At that, the boy finally stiffened, clutching his broom.

“N-no, of course not.”

“Then are you saying you have the right to decide whether I can take your master’s property? You’re just a servant. Even if your master wished to gift me something, your rank is far too low for that.”

“I… I didn’t mean…”

I stopped pressing him further and instead turned my eyes toward the windows of the blue mansion.

“Let me see your master.”

A servant belittling his own master is his own problem. But ignoring me, a guest, deserved an apology.

The boy bent quickly at the waist, speaking more carefully this time.

“I’m sorry, milady. I thought you were just a common visitor. Truly, forgive me. The young master, I mean the lord, is away at the moment. But I’ll fetch the butler. Could you please wait inside?”

So, instead of begging me to overlook his mistake, he hurried to fetch the butler?

He must be used to handling people politely. That meant he wasn’t just a lazy fool.

Still, why was he so careless at first?

“Fine. Lead the way.”

I stepped forward, and he hurried to knock at the main gate.

The moment I saw the inside, I realized:

This wasn’t the house of some wealthy merchant. This was a noble’s mansion.

“May I take your coat?”

Another servant—different from the boy—took my coat and the bag of apples.

The garden wasn’t particularly large, and the mansion itself wasn’t massive, but there were a surprising number of attendants.

What shocked me more was the interior.

The outside looked fancy, but the inside was refined and elegant.

The carpet was spotless, the paintings on the walls were all by famous artists.

“Does the lady of the house manage this herself?”

It couldn’t have been easy to decorate so tastefully with such old, classical items.

“No, milady. The master himself chose all these.”

“Really? His taste is…”

Exceptional.

But I didn’t say it aloud in front of a servant.

Even the frames, the plants, the vases—all of it looked carefully selected.

They called him young master, so he couldn’t be very old. But the way he filled the halls with antiques… clearly, he wasn’t an ordinary noble.

“Please wait here. I’ll bring the butler.”

As soon as the parlor door closed, a huge painting on the wall caught my eye.

I got up and walked toward it.

“…Is this young master a bit crazy?”

Usually parlors displayed mythological paintings. But here was a massive battle scene.

Not just any, but one painted by Nero, the palace’s most famous painter. That strict old man only gave gifts of flower-boy portraits to royals—so which noble could he possibly have painted a war for?

Before I could finish examining it, footsteps approached.

“Welcome, milady.”

It was indeed a real butler, sharp features, immaculate clothes, perfect posture.

“Would you like tea or coffee?”

“Tea.”

“Very well. Madam Hella.”

“Yes.”

A maid followed, quickly setting sandwiches, cake, and other treats on a tray.

Such generous hospitality for an uninvited guest, whose identity they hadn’t even confirmed.

This mysterious young master was getting more and more interesting.