Chapter 22
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 22
With his brilliant blond hair swept back, Abel was as handsome as any actor. At a nod from Simon, he quickly fell into step beside him.
Oscar entered the suite, glanced once at the room where Seo-ah was staying, and headed straight for his own. As Simon and Abel followed him in and closed the door, Oscar picked up the contract resting neatly on the desk. He then perched on the edge of the desk, stretching out one long leg, about to gesture for Abel to approach, finding even the act of speaking a nuisance.
“…”
Oscar froze. In turn, Simon and Abel froze as well, their gazes following Oscar’s to the door. Holding their breath, they listened for any presence beyond it—an almost instinctual reaction.
Did another assassin show up after we killed so many yesterday? Even if one did, they should have been dealt with at the end of the hall.
But the presence they sensed wasn't sharp like a blade’s edge. It was faint, like a light pencil line.
A small, delicate presence approached—not too fast, not too slow—then stopped, then came closer again. Every step was laced with hesitation, as if debating whether to advance or retreat.
The footsteps halted a few paces from the door.
Abel and Simon shifted only their eyes to look at Oscar.
Slouched slightly, he was still perched on the desk, staring at the door with narrowed eyes. The moment the presence seemed to give up and take a step back, he tilted his head and let out a dry chuckle. Then, like an elegant wolf, he rose, stretching his long frame and walking toward the door with a leisurely gait.
The presence on the other side, unable to retreat further or advance, remained frozen. Oscar opened the door.
He didn't give her a chance to escape.
The woman standing a few paces away looked, just as he expected, like she wanted to run.
Her eyes, which last night had been too dazed to even meet his gaze, were now fixed firmly on the floor. Her expression yesterday was quite a sight, though, Oscar thought, dismissing the trivial memory as he studied her tilted face. She appeared expressionless, but her eyelashes trembled constantly. And though her body was still, she clasped her hands so tightly that the bones and veins on their backs stood out.
She had come to him, so she must have a reason. He remained silent, and eventually, her gaze flickered up from the floor. A strained voice emerged.
“I heard you come in…”
“…”
“Welcome back?”
She bowed her head politely, and when she raised it, her face was serious. Faced with her earnest expression, Oscar laughed in disbelief. She really must be the illegitimate child of some noble house, to offer a greeting with such a terrified look on her face.
“Yes. Have you been well?”
His faint smile vanished, replaced instantly by a gentle tone.
Clasping her hands in front of her, she gave a small nod, then quickly continued, like someone who had rehearsed their lines.
“I went to the bank. Just as you said, they told me it would take at least half a year.”
“I assume the bank took your identification papers?”
“Yes. They said it needed to be verified.”
She nodded, then glanced at him furtively.
“I’ll be in your care. And…” Her words trailed off. She looked down at the clothes she was wearing. “This dress… and thanks to you, I was able to buy the things I needed. Thank you.”
Oscar’s gaze met hers for a moment before following her light brown eyes as they dropped again to a white dress, delicately embroidered with small flowers.
It was the kind of dress that made one wonder how such a modest piece could have been on the list of goods from a merchant summoned to a royal suite at the Ritz Hotel. He was almost impressed she’d managed to find it; not a single woman he knew would wear something so plain.
“It's pretty, isn't it?” he tossed out, perhaps because he’d been bored all day.
As expected, the naive Outsider’s eyes widened slightly, her expression flustered. Her lips parted, then pressed into a thin line.
Oscar leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. He took a lazy drag from his cigarette and said casually, “Give me a twirl.”
“Pardon?”
“Ah, you don't know about these things? When someone buys you a dress, you’re supposed to turn around so they can see how pretty you look.”
“Ah…”
This must be how people scam the ignorant, she seemed to think.
Bewilderment slowly spread across her elegant, serious face. She glanced right, then left. She shot him another furtive look, but Oscar simply cocked an eyebrow, as if to tell her to get on with it.
He knew she wouldn't be able to refuse. How many people on the Norfolk Continent could defy the will of Oscar von Reinhardt? When even kings watched his every move, what chance did a naive Outsider have?
In the end, the woman turned. As she fidgeted, a unique scent wafted from her, lingering at the tip of his nose. It wasn't perfume, nor was it the scent of flowers or the artificial smell of soap. It was a fragrance he couldn't quite describe, though the word ‘verdure’ came closest.
He exhaled a plume of smoke, and the fleeting impression vanished along with the scent, swept away by the gray haze. And the fidgeting woman, who gave off that indescribable scent, moved in a way that was completely different from what he had expected.
He’d expected her to spin awkwardly in place at his command. Instead, she turned her back completely to him and began to walk in a wide arc, as if tracing a large circle on the floor.
She clearly hadn't understood what "give me a twirl" meant. It was also clear that no one had ever made such a playful joke with her before.
As the woman moved away with light steps, she gradually turned her body sideways. The moment her profile came into view, her prim face was filled with a look of resigned despair, as if to say, What on earth am I doing?
Oscar, who had been watching her the whole time, burst out laughing with the cigarette still dangling from his lips. He scratched the back of his neck, his laughter escaping in choked sounds, and the woman, who had walked about halfway around her circle, stopped dead.
He was laughing with his head down, but he lifted his eyes to look at her. For a moment, their gazes locked. The woman, however, turned her head away as if frightened by the contact.
He couldn't hold back his laughter. Her gaze fixed on a corner of the wall, she muttered quietly, “You told me to turn around…”
Realizing this was her own form of protest, Oscar’s laughter grew louder. In proportion to his amusement, her face grew increasingly flushed.
“I meant for you to spin in place. I didn't expect you to walk a full lap.”
At his laughter-filled words, the Outsider from across the sea blinked in confusion. It was as if he could see right into her simple little head.
The woman stood frozen, biting her lip. After laughing for a good while, Oscar pushed his hair back and straightened up from the doorframe. That was enough fun at her expense.
“That's enough. Go get some rest. We leave for Luxen early tomorrow morning.”
Her face flushed, she just blinked. Then, as if she had been waiting for those words, she gave him a brief nod and turned away. As she walked, her neatly braided hair and an exotic red ribbon swayed behind her.
A red ribbon adorning the end of her braid. He watched it with narrowed eyes until she disappeared behind her door.
After she was gone, Oscar quietly closed his own door and turned around. He leaned his back against it and faced Abel.
“Is she my target this time?”
“Succeed, and I'll let you retire that 'Gold Digger' title. You said you wanted out of that line of work, didn't you?” Oscar proposed languidly.
Abel shrugged. “I feel like I'm aging years by the day, sir.”
Despite his words, Abel Sting was a capable agent who had never once failed to secure a target.
“I heard a little about it from my senior. So, I just need to make her want to marry me?”
“That's right.”
“And it doesn't matter if I start by getting her physically attached.”
“As long as there are no side effects.”
Smoking his cigarette, Oscar ambled back and leaned against the desk again. He reached back to open a drawer, where a small box sat neatly inside. Oscar opened it, confirmed the vault key was there, and clicked his tongue faintly as he recalled the naive Outsider's face.
“She doesn't seem to know the key was swapped.”
The key had been duplicated before she woke up; the one she now held was a fake. Simon, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke.
“They said they couldn't replicate the internal pins, but that's impossible to discern with the naked eye.”
Oscar stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and spoke to Abel. “As you've heard, the best method is for you to marry the woman and inherit the ownership of the key outright.”
It was the cleanest approach and an insurance policy against any unforeseen circumstances.
“So? Think you can handle it?”
At that, the eyes of Abel Sting—a man said to be unrivaled in espionage through seduction—curved into sly crescents.
“One month.”
Abel recalled the afterimage of the woman's docile face he'd seen over Oscar's shoulder and spoke with a voice full of conviction.
“Just give me one month.”
That night, the Reinhardt Wolves prepared to leave Pelfe, each from their respective positions. Their original schedule had them staying for a few more days, but the rest of their itinerary was canceled due to unexpected news.
It was a night when only the Outsider, whose body had been wound tight with tension all day, collapsed into a deep, oblivious sleep.
The secretly busy night passed in an instant.