The First Opening
Between the Imperial Capital and the commercial district of Velos lay a sizable town called Ribelo.
Twenty minutes from Velos by train, an hour by carriage. And on Ribelo's crowded platform, two carriages had pulled to a stop.
Watching them, Serena let out a deep sigh she couldn't quite justify.
"Do we really have to go, Rachel?"
"Unnie? After saying that, when you were the one who got more excited about it. Is it suddenly too scary now that it's actually happening?"
Rachel, her light-brown hair loosely tied back, gave a knowing smile. As always, once she made up her mind, refusal was simply not an option.
Truthfully, Serena wasn't without her own curiosity. Surrounded by the same routine, the same faces, the same world, it was only natural to crave a new thrill now and then. But thoughts were perhaps most beautiful when they stayed thoughts. That was precisely why she'd never intended to set foot anywhere near an occasion like this.
The trouble was her timid nature — the way she always let herself be swept along by those around her. Viewed from that angle, one could argue Serena's life had grown a good deal more exhausting the day Rachel became her friend.
"Don't worry so much. Our secrecy is absolutely airtight. Look — they're handing out personal masks before we've even entered Velos. At this point, the people of Ribelo have no idea we're even headed there."
Rachel was exactly right. The coachman waiting beside the carriages was holding out pristine white masks, one by one.
Light as a feather yet covering half the face, each mask seemed to whisper: everything that happens from this moment on is a secret.
"Honestly, they're calling it the Empire's first women-only salon — aren't you even a little curious what that's like, unnie? And we get to find out from the best possible position: as its very first guests."
"But 'salon' just means a bar, though..."
"A play on words. Call it a salon up front, and people feel far less resistance to the idea. Eugene clearly counted on that."
There was something brimming with fascination in Rachel's voice. And with that voice ringing in her ears, Serena raised trembling fingertips and lifted the mask to her face.
Strangely enough, that small act alone brought a curious sense of relief — as though she'd been severed from the rest of the world. Then, following the coachman's guidance, they climbed into the carriages one after another.
The curtains shut out every trace of light, leaving the interior dark, and the rumble of the wheels carried the platform slowly out of reach. In that darkness, Serena sank into thought.
Well... fine.
She would simply think of it as satisfying a little curiosity. From the moment she'd boarded the carriage, she'd been incapable of thinking anything else.
The carriages crossed into Velos. Before long the wheels ground to a halt, and when the door swung open, a subtle fragrance drifted in alongside the sight of a dazzling, snow-white building.
"...So this is it."
Serena caught her breath.
The exterior was nothing like what she had imagined. She had braced herself for a bar — for dim alleys and shuttered doors — but Bloom shattered every expectation: walls of pure white marble, gleaming glass windows, and lighting so brilliant it glowed even in broad daylight. Sacred and luxurious, like nothing so much as a temple.
"Welcome to Bloom!"
A cheerful-faced attendant bowed deeply to greet the arriving noblewomen.
"Seats have been prepared for our most honored guests. This way, please."
Following him up a low flight of steps, they stepped into a sweeping view of Bloom's interior. Silver columns glittered beneath the white light. Somewhere, the soft strains of a violin drifted through the air, and the delicate scent of fine wine and tea hung gently throughout. Nothing here felt vulgar or cheap — the elegance was such that even the most fastidious noble daughters could enter without a flicker of discomfort.
Somehow, Serena felt herself relax further behind her mask. At this level... it might not be so bad after all?
And then, in that very moment.
What...? What is that?
Across the hall, in a seat bathed in gently falling lamplight, her eyes met those of an exceptionally handsome man.
A pristine formal uniform, a perfectly straight posture, and eyes of astonishing, unbending resolve. Even through her mask, she felt utterly seen through in a single glance. That was why Serena found herself staring at him, dazed — or to put it precisely, she couldn't help staring, because he was so agonizingly close to her ideal type.
But it wasn't just the man in uniform. It started with the usher who'd guided them to the center of the hall, then continued on through Eugene — the owner of Bloom, busily trading words with patrons across the room — and on to the crowd of hosts.
...Every single one of them had a face of absurdly high quality.
"Um... Rachel?"
"What?"
"You said there'd be a lot of handsome men. But I never imagined it would be like this."
At Serena's awed murmur, Rachel leaned in with a mischievous whisper.
"Unnie, you've already found someone you like, haven't you? Who is it?"
"Wha— no! Nobody!"
Serena whipped her gaze away in a panic, but behind the mask, her face had flushed a very distinct shade of red.
From the teacup set upon a silver table, the brisk fragrance of herbs unfurled. Serena gripped the cup with slightly unsteady hands. She had merely brought it to her lips, yet the warm aroma sliding down her throat seemed to loosen her tension thread by thread.
"I'd never in a million years take this place for a bar," Rachel murmured beside her with a faint smile.
It was true. The glittering lights, the exquisite desserts, the impeccable service of the staff. This was no ordinary drinking den — it felt like a grand salon where noble daughters could come and go with total peace of mind.
Serena was quietly reassured by that fact — until, at that moment, the hall's lights converged on its center. And like actors taking the stage, five men walked out in a single line.
A man in immaculate uniform; a long-haired man wreathed in a warm smile; a cold, composed young nobleman; a pure-faced, strikingly handsome youth; and finally, a dark presence radiating an overwhelming aura from his eyes alone.
The very air of the hall transformed at their entrance. Serena instinctively held her breath — like an audience member witnessing the opening scene of some unfamiliar play.
Meanwhile, at the edge of the hall, Eugene rose from his seat and studied the patrons' reactions with careful attention. His gaze came to rest, quite naturally, on Rachel — and on the woman seated beside her. A face where faint tension and curiosity were beautifully intermingled.
Yes. Eyes like that are exactly what makes money.
"Oh, my poor doomed boss. Could you please hire more staff before the next opening? The two of us handling the entire floor alone — does that arrangement make any sense to you?"
Louis let out his wail of protest at Eugene's side. And in fairness, he had every right to. Eugene had wrung out every last coin he did and didn't have to build Bloom into what it now was.
Put simply, there had been no money left to spend on labor — which meant the workload falling on Eugene and Louis had only ever grown. And yet Louis never truly complained. Why, you ask? Because he'd wanted to see, with his own two eyes, what vision this business Eugene spoke of so relentlessly would actually take. And now, the man who had conceived Bloom owed him a show.
"Boss."
Louis lowered his voice to a murmur. "Go on, then. So long as you show me an interesting picture, I'm perfectly satisfied."
At that, Eugene gave a short laugh, nodded slowly, and stepped out toward the center of the hall. Under the pure-white light, every gaze in the room snapped to him in an instant. For that one moment, he looked less like a businessman and more like a stage director.
"First and foremost, allow me to extend my gratitude to our distinguished guests for honoring us with your presence."
His voice was neither too loud nor too soft — yet it carried with uncanny clarity, seizing the very air of the hall.
"This place where you now sit — Bloom — is no mere salon. It is a place, and a stage, where men of varied charms will transform your day, your dull and weary routine, into something special."
Whispers stirred here and there. Though the masks hid every face, it was plainly visible how the women's eyes had begun to sparkle. The instant Eugene confirmed that reaction, he layered on his smile.
"And now... it is time for you to meet them in person — the pride of Bloom, our five players. This single day, your choice will lead directly to your newest pleasure."
As Eugene stepped back with a graceful smile, five men of distinctly different appeal stepped forward one by one.
The first to step up was Fion. Red glinted through his eyes as he lazily curled the corner of his mouth and spoke in a low voice.
"Name's Fion. What I like? Hmm... dangerous things. And someone to do them with. So — any ladies out there willing to play with me?"
Fion delivered his prepared lines flawlessly. Incidentally, every word of the players' scripts had been written by Eugene. And Bloom's players had needed a truly remarkable amount of practice to memorize them — for reasons that will be obvious. Each and every line was brazenly high-level, a fact that spoke volumes about the mind they'd come from.
Following Fion, Hermes stepped forward. His long hair swayed as he offered a gentle smile.
"My name is Hermes. Music has the power to melt a weary heart. For this one day, I would love to let you hear my stories the way you'd hear a melody."
The moment Hermes's soft voice faded, a player who embodied his polar opposite stepped into the light.
The third was Harlion. A immaculate navy suit, an expression cold yet perfectly composed. "I am Harlion. People often call me calculating... but today, and today only, I will spend every hour for one lady alone."
The words were stiff, yet it was precisely that unbending gravity that drew the guests' gazes. Word had been spread in advance that he was of noble birth, and the nurse faction and the clerk-faction of guests were now eyeing him with clear interest.
And then the fourth.
Joel shuffled out awkwardly, taking cautious steps forward. Then, as if summoning his courage, he broke into a faint smile and spoke.
"N-nice to meet you! I'm Joel! To be honest, I'm not exactly used to occasions like this... but when it comes to sincerity, I'm more confident than anyone! Let's have some fun together!"
That fresh, boyish delivery. The tips of his ears turning red. At Joel's flustered charm, several guests burst out laughing, trading glances of delight.
And last of all, Kalian.
Standing ramrod straight in his pristine uniform, he left exactly one short, blunt remark.
"I am Kalian. I'm no good with fancy words. But today, I will serve you to the very best of my ability, until the end."
A brief but unshakable gaze. Impeccable bearing. He came across as rather clumsy of tongue — yet to someone, that very awkwardness might feel more comforting than any polished charm.
With the introductions of the five players concluded, Eugene stepped forward once more.
"And so, these are the players of Bloom. The honored guest offering the highest price will spend this day in that player's exclusive company. And now... it is your choices that shall determine their worth."
In that instant, behind the masks, the eyes of the women flashed in a dozen different ways. The time had come for fifteen honored guests to wage fierce competition over five men.
And then—
"Let us find the first lady who will enjoy a thrilling day with Fion. Raise your hand and state the amount you offer—"
"Ten gold coins."
As if to declare that no one else would so much as touch this man — the noble daughter with the loosely tied light-brown hair, Rachel, thrust her hand into the air and called out with perfect confidence.