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Chapter 10
“Master, what should we do? I don’t feel like doing anything anymore.”
Martini, who had already spent half a day fused with the carpet, muttered with a crumpled face.
“Yeah. Me too.”
Rosalyn, sprawled face-down on the table, was in the same condition.
Since dawn, after failing to find any solution to when they would actually receive the thousand gold, both of them had remained like this.
Was there anything more cruel than giving something and then taking it back?
Even though they hadn’t actually received and lost the thousand gold, it felt exactly like that.
The reception room, where they lay slumped, was filled with a damp, gloomy atmosphere.
So much so that all the flowers had wilted within half a day.
“Master. We should get new roses. These are dying.”
“Yeah. We should replace the lilies too.”
“Flowers are pretty expensive.”
“Even then, all of them together aren’t even one gold.”
“No wonder they’re dying so fast.”
“If they were bought with gold, they’d probably last longer.”
Martini and Rosalyn exchanged lifeless words.
Every conversation inevitably circled back to gold.
After a long while, Martini suddenly jumped up.
“By the way, Master, I’ve been wondering—why roses and lilies?”
It was an attempt to force some energy back into himself.
Rosalyn, who would normally brush him off, answered this time.
“Just heard that it’s nice to place red on the right and white on the left. They do that in the Eastern Continent.”
“Eastern… continent?”
Martini frowned at the unfamiliar concept.
“Yeah. You know, the place across the sea.”
Rosalyn replied lazily, still slumped over the table.
“Master…”
Martini stared at her with a shocked expression. This was a different kind of shock from their earlier despair.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Rosalyn, sensing something was wrong, finally sat up.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Don’t tell me… you heard that from a flower shop?”
A sense of alarm rose in Martini’s eyes.
Rosalyn quickly searched her memory.
Maybe, maybe not. A person in a white apron had said it, so it was probably the flower shop.
“…Maybe? I think so.”
“Ah…”
Martini let out a devastated sigh and covered his face.
“Master… I think I finally understand everything.”
“Speak clearly. What do you understand?”
“Why we lost the thousand gold. It makes sense now.”
Rosalyn’s expression twisted.
The conversation kept looping back to gold again—and now even the loss of it was being justified.
“What does that have to do with anything? Are we just idiots or what?”
“Not ‘we,’ I think.”
“…What?”
A cold glint entered Rosalyn’s eyes.
“No, think about it. A con artist getting scammed themselves—how are they supposed to recover their money properly? It’s all because Master is too naive.”
Rosalyn stared silently at him.
A chill ran down her neck, as if a cold wind had blown through the sealed room.
“I see.”
Her slow voice made Martini snap back to his senses.
What had he just said?
He had definitely spoken out of turn, still reeling from the shock of the 200 gold.
“M-Master…”
“So the red-on-the-right, white-on-the-left thing was a lie. I got scammed. The letter reply was also a thousand-gold scam. Right?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
“So from the beginning, the flower shop owner just wanted to sell flowers, and the client just wanted the letter delivered.”
Rosalyn slowly stood up.
Martini instinctively took a step back. A suffocating pressure filled the room.
“Martini. I think I might be too stupid and naive, so I’ll have to ask directly.”
“Y-yes? Ask who? What?”
Terrified, Martini stammered.
Rosalyn picked up her discarded cloak and smiled coldly.
“Not you. The thousand gold. Get ready. It’s coming soon.”
“W-what does that even—!”
Martini’s face stiffened.
At that moment, faint footsteps echoed down the alley outside.
Rosalyn prepared herself.
There was nothing more humiliating than a con artist being scammed.
She put on her gloves with firm resolve.
If they wouldn’t give it willingly, she would force it out.
Her eyes gleamed with renewed life.
She would get that blood-earned thousand gold back—no matter what.
* * *
Standing beside Rosalyn, Martini stared at the guest’s hand.
The same gloves as before.
His gaze moved upward.
A slender wrist. And on it—a small thread of fabric.
A ribbon.
‘A woman?’
His earlier guess solidified into certainty.
He studied her outfit more carefully.
At first glance it looked like a randomly purchased robe, but it was actually made of high-quality material.
A wealthy woman casually paying large sums and commissioning something involving House Cervellion…
There was only one conclusion.
The Duke of Cervellion’s mistress.
Martini organized the puzzle in his mind.
‘The reply?’
The suspicious guest once again handed over a notebook.
Martini placed the letter on the table.
“The goods are confirmed. Payment first.”
Rosalyn spoke calmly.
This was a critical moment.
In high-value transactions, maintaining pressure was everything.
The guest reached into her robe.
Rosalyn and Martini watched closely.
Finally—the moment they had been waiting for.
The hand emerged and placed something on the table.
Clink.
A clear sound rang out.
Something rolled toward Rosalyn’s hand.
A coin.
A shining golden coin.
Gold.
Martini stared blankly. Something felt wrong.
The reward was supposed to be one thousand gold.
But there was only one coin.
‘Are they going to pay one by one?’
He forced himself to stay calm.
Rich people did strange things all the time.
The guest reached into her robe again.
This time, she poured a handful of coins onto the table.
Martini quickly counted.
One, two, three… nine. Ten coins in total.
“What exactly is this supposed to mean?”
Rosalyn’s voice turned sharp with killing intent.
The guest flipped a page in her notebook and handed it over.
Martini read it—and his expression froze in shock.
Emergency situation.
Rosalyn looked at him.
“M-Master…”
Her shoulders were trembling slightly.
“Master, please calm down…”
Martini grabbed her shoulders quickly.
The guest began to reach for the letter on the table.
“You.”
Rosalyn grabbed her hand.
Tension exploded in the air.
“Master! No!”
Martini shouted, holding her back desperately.
Rosalyn barely held onto her remaining rationality.
“Are you messing with me?”
Killing intent filled her voice.
But the guest remained calm.
That only made Rosalyn’s anger burn hotter.
“Is this job a joke?”
BANG!
She slammed the table and stood up.
The guest’s hand was crushed against the surface.
“Master!”
Martini wrapped his arms around her.
“THE CLIENT IS A WOMAN! A WOMAN! YOU CAN’T KILL HER!”
“…What?”
Her grip loosened instantly.
The guest pulled her hand free, grabbed the letter, and quickly retreated.
“W-woman…?”
“Yes! A woman! Ma’am, please leave! Now!”
At Martini’s urging, the guest quickly tore the notebook page and threw it onto the table before disappearing.
Rosalyn stood frozen for a moment before collapsing back into her chair.
Her eyes drifted over the table.
Ten gold coins, a scrap of paper, and the same envelope.
Too pathetic for everything she had gone through.
She picked up the note.
‘Deliver reply in three days.’
Her hand crushed the paper.
“Is that client really a woman?”
Her voice dripped with killing intent.
Martini nodded quickly.
“Yes! Absolutely!”
Rosalyn threw off her cloak in frustration.
Her shattered hopes boiled into rage.
“Woman or not, seriously…”
She muttered darkly, as if ready to hang the mysterious client upside down.
Martini swallowed nervously.
Thankfully, her anger shifted elsewhere.
“Damn Cervellion…”
At the center of it all—
The House of Cervellion.
