Chapter 43
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43
“Is this really a place that sells things?”
As he exchanged subtle signals with the backup agents blended into the department store crowd, Abel turned to Seo-ah, who was muttering in a daze. He gave her a smile that could melt steel.
So this is what it’s like for a country bumpkin to see civilization for the first time.
The moment he stepped inside and breathed in the scent of the modern world, the professional duty he had clung to so desperately transformed into something more akin to a calling.
“So you’ve only ever seen markets, never a department store.”
The flustered way she looked up at him was lovely. The way she quickly averted her gaze when their eyes met was lovely, too.
Barbara’s orders were to hold out here for as long as possible and leave only after the crowds had completely dispersed. For Abel Sting, who frequented department stores as if they were his second home, the task couldn’t have been easier.
“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. So…”
“Are you saying I should go wherever I want?”
“Yes.”
She spoke softly, her curious gaze already wandering and taking in her surroundings.
Abel decided he was going to love his target. No, it seemed he already did.
“Let’s go, then.”
She clutched her bag with both hands and followed him.
Abel led Seo-ah up a staircase covered in a plush carpet, arriving on a floor specializing in men’s suits. As they stepped into the dignified, gentlemanly atmosphere, the memories of the past few days—of a rotting cart that seemed a century old and a desolate public cemetery—felt like a distant dream from a previous life.
He moved as if in a trance.
“Welcome, sir.”
Greeted with warm smiles, Abel guided Seo-ah to a customer sofa. He sat with practiced ease, accepted a welcome drink, and began describing his preferences. As the staff started bringing out suits, Seo-ah sat with her hands folded demurely in her lap, blinking slowly.
Abel, crossing his legs like some count from a faraway land, casually scanned the clothes before pointing to one. Impressed by his elegant and natural demeanor, the staff quickly escorted him to a fitting room.
“Winter will be here soon, won’t it? And for winter, there’s nothing quite like Atun Mountain cashmere. It looks absolutely splendid on you, sir.”
As the lustrous suit settled over his body, the memories of the past few days vanished completely from Abel’s mind. And as they faded, a habit ingrained in his very bones for months resurfaced as if by magic.
“Darling, what do you think?”
Turning with a handsome smile, Abel froze.
It was like habitually calling out an ex’s name during sex.
Holding his breath at his own ridiculous mistake, he glanced at his target. She was sitting with her hands resting neatly on her thighs. She tilted her head, then slowly lifted her gaze, looking confused as to whether he was even talking to her.
Just then, a middle-aged woman who appeared to be the store manager chimed in, giving Seo-ah a gentle nudge.
“He looks absolutely wonderful, doesn’t he?”
Seo-ah tilted her head again, then nodded as if on instinct.
“Yes, it suits him well.”
“I’m so envious you have such a magnificent man by your side.”
A deeper confusion clouded Seo-ah’s face. She had no words to refute the comment and, perhaps thinking it would be strange to do so, eventually gave another slow nod.
At that moment, the corners of Abel’s frozen mouth curled into a smile. His mind raced as he tilted his head and gazed at his target. It seemed he had just stumbled upon the perfect way to devour this naive Outsider whole before she even knew what was happening.
*
Vies Department Store.
As the first department store to open in East Norfolk, Vies was a historic establishment that was also the largest in scale and highest in sales in the entire region. However, it hadn’t always been so successful.
Even now, the older, more traditional aristocrats looked down on department stores. Their philosophy was that they couldn’t possibly wear or use items sold in a place that just anyone could enter.
The store’s domination of the Vies commercial district was a recent phenomenon, established only within the last decade.
One day, news spread that Marquis Reinhardt had invested in the failing Vies Department Store. The nobles gossiped amongst themselves, saying that while the young marquis—who hadn’t even attended the Academy—had managed to build a respectable steel company, he was finally showing his limitations.
But then came the news that the steel company had acquired a railway company. The existing rail network began to expand at an astonishing rate. At the time, the nobility paid no mind to how this connected to the department store investment.
They only began to take notice when new and exotic goods from all corners of the land—things they had never seen or heard of—began to arrive at the department store along the newly expanded railway network.
Even Luhas raspberries, which had to be eaten within a week of being harvested, could now be tasted at Vies Department Store.
New and novel things they had never seen or heard of.
The art- and culture-loving nobles of Vies, especially the younger generation, were captivated. Outings to the department store spread like a trend among the young aristocrats.
A trend is often like a wildfire, spreading fast before burning out without a trace. But some trends don’t just disappear—they settle, becoming part of the culture itself.
The Marchioness, who had once vehemently disapproved of her son’s choice, had now become one of the department store’s most frequent patrons.
In the VIP lounge on the top floor, an exhibition celebrating the holy day was in full swing.
The seats of honor were, of course, reserved for Dowager Marchioness Charlotte von Reinhardt and her daughter, Sabine von Jerome. Sabine was momentarily absent, but the Dowager Marchioness was surrounded by a flock of noble ladies.
“Marchioness, I’m thinking of buying that piece. What are your thoughts?”
Charlotte, sipping her champagne, glanced at the sculpture the lady was pointing to.
“Where do you plan to put it?”
“The right side of the main hall feels rather empty, you see.”
“The right side of your main hall…” Charlotte trailed off for a moment before speaking in a clear tone. “If it were me, I’d place it in the center of the stair landing.”
The lady who had asked the question seemed to picture it, then clapped her hands softly, delighted. “Why didn’t I think of that? I almost put an object meant for a landing in the wrong place entirely.”
“As expected, the Marchioness’s eye is simply unmatched.”
“You should give up on trying to match it. How many times must I tell you it’s a matter of innate talent?”
Charlotte hid a faint smile behind her champagne flute. Inside the pale green liquid floated a Luhas raspberry, a delicacy that could only be enjoyed at this time of year, in this very department store. The reddish, heart-shaped fruit suspended in the champagne was a work of art in itself.
“Champagne with Luhas raspberries. To think the person who came up with this was a young man of only twenty-one. I still can’t believe it. It seems a good eye is hereditary, after all.”
The ladies seamlessly transitioned from praising Charlotte’s discerning eye to her son, Oscar, a roundabout way of flattering Charlotte herself.
As always, Charlotte said little, preferring to listen and offer an elegant smile from time to time.
It was then that someone spoke up.
“But why is the Marquis not yet married?”
At that single question, the cheerful atmosphere instantly cooled.
The eyes of the ladies close to Charlotte immediately darted toward the one who had spoken. She was perched on the very edge of the group, a noblewoman from out of town who had likely stopped by the exhibition during a visit to the capital.
The other ladies merely flicked their eyes toward Charlotte before settling deeper into their sofas, subtly distancing themselves.
Oscar’s marriage.
It was a topic they were all curious about but didn’t have the nerve to ask, hoping some clueless person would bring it up for them.
A child’s marriage was the parent’s domain. Therefore, the Marquis’s marriage should have been the Marchioness’s.
But the Marquis was not only unmarried, he wasn’t even engaged. This meant the Marchioness was either not doing her job as a mother or was unable to, and everyone knew the scales tipped heavily toward the latter.
“He’s so charming, I imagine the proposals must be flooding in. As a mother of a son myself, I’m both envious of you and terribly curious about what wonderful offers you’ve received…”
No. There was one person in this room who didn’t know.
Charlotte tilted her head and looked at the woman sitting at a distance. Most would have backed down, but the clueless woman held Charlotte’s gaze, as if determined to get an answer. A small smile played on Charlotte’s lips as she spoke.
“You have so many questions, my lady.”
“Well, you see, I recently received a marriage proposal for my son…”
“Look around you.”
Charlotte cut the woman off without ceremony, raising her right index finger with a smile. The tip of her polished nail gleamed. She drew a slow circle in the air, gesturing to the exhibition hall. The bewildered lady hesitantly did so. Then, Charlotte spoke again.
“There are no prices listed on any of the works in this exhibition. Do you know why?”
The lady blinked, unable to grasp why Charlotte had suddenly changed the subject from marriage to art.
Charlotte took a leisurely sip of her champagne before continuing.
“It’s because there’s no reason to price them. To those with the eyes to recognize a work’s true value, the price is meaningless. And those who cannot recognize it lack the means to acquire it anyway.”
“…”