Chapter 50
“Children shouldn’t say such things. Besides, it was getting lonely for us two old folks living alone, so this worked out well. Stay here with us.”
Thanks to the kind elderly couple, Laszlo felt relieved and immediately headed to the mercenary guild. He remembered overhearing a conversation between his father and a friend when he was younger.
“They say commoner boys start running errands for the mercenary guild as early as ten years old. But my boy here still can’t seem to pull himself away from his mother’s apron strings, sigh.”
Without knowing what an errand boy at the guild actually did, Laszlo marched in and demanded to become one.
The rough-looking men stared him down, as if ready to devour him. But Laszlo didn’t back away.
He instinctively knew that retreating would only lead to worse outcomes.
“You’ve got some guts, kid. Alright, let’s give you a shot. What’s your name?”
“…Laszlo. It’s Laszlo.”
He gave them the name of the hero from a storybook that his nanny used to read to him when he was little.
From that day, Laszlo became an errand boy for a small mercenary guild, delivering letters and transporting mysterious items. The following year, he began accompanying mercenaries on long journeys, handling meals, carrying their gear, and doing other odd jobs. He even kept watch during suspicious missions or tailed people for surveillance.
Naturally, it wasn’t long before he picked up a sword himself.
First, he needed to protect himself. Then, he aimed to become a full-fledged mercenary to earn better money.
Lost in these memories, Laszlo stayed silent until Linia, nudging him persistently, asked again.
“How have you been living? Huh?”
“How else? I scraped by, somehow.”
“Don’t be vague! I barely remember the old lady with the meat pies from when we stayed at her place.”
“They were good people. If they’d lived a little longer, I could’ve repaid them properly.”
The elderly couple who had taken them in passed away sooner than expected. The grandfather died when Laszlo was fifteen, and the grandmother followed three years later, when he was eighteen.
Though life had improved somewhat thanks to the money Laszlo earned, he always regretted not being able to do more for them.
“There was only one window, and the house was so small that it got dark quickly when the sun set. But we were happy there.”
Even though they weren’t related by blood, the elderly couple had cared for Laszlo and Linia with love. That love was what kept Laszlo from becoming completely cynical.
“If they hadn’t looked after you, it would’ve been hard for me to go out and work. They saved us.”
“Yeah, I know. But honestly, as long as I had you, I didn’t care about anything else.”
Thinking of the unforgettable taste of the meat pies, Linia finished the one she was holding.
“Ah, that was delicious. So, what should we eat next? There’s a place across the bridge that sells grilled chicken skewers. Wanna go there?”
While crossing the bustling bridge filled with portrait artists and passersby, Laszlo suddenly stopped.
“Hmm? I feel like I just heard a voice that sounded exactly like Edel’s…?”
Though it seemed impossible, he couldn’t help but look around.
Instead of Edel’s voice, a shrill, irritating female voice reached his ears. He followed the stares of curious bystanders and quickly found the source.
As if drawn by some invisible force, Laszlo walked toward the commotion. Then, he caught a cutting remark.
“So, the famous Edel Canyon is not only sold off as some old man’s second wife but also reduced to being a mercenary’s mistress?”
The words hit a nerve for reasons he couldn’t understand, and he found himself responding without thinking.
“I didn’t know I had a mistress.”
The woman’s face turned pale with shock, but Laszlo only had eyes for Edel.
She looked visibly troubled, and when Laszlo noticed Daisy gripping Edel’s sleeve tightly, he quickly grasped the situation.
“Ah, right. They said they’d go out today. It’s their first outing since coming to our place. I can’t let them get caught up in something like this.”
Though a part of him wanted to turn the loud woman’s family and connections upside down, he held back—for Edel’s sake, to preserve her peace.
Using the crowd’s curiosity as an excuse, he suggested they all visit a private studio to have portraits drawn.
It turned out to be a good decision. He enjoyed getting a portrait done with the ever-adorable Linia, and it was satisfying to see Marco—a quiet but loyal man—captured in the same frame with his daughter.
When it was Edel’s turn to pose again, supposedly to send a portrait to Barbara, Laszlo found himself mesmerized by her.
Her smile was like the glow of the evening sun on a clear day—radiant and captivating.
“It’s finished! Ah, who should I give this portrait to?”
“Give it to me.”
When Laszlo received the completed portrait, he was pleased with how lifelike it was, almost identical to the real Edel.
“Thank you once again, my lord.”
“Ah… Well, no need to thank me multiple times. After all, it might as well be for my own sake.”
Though Laszlo said this, feeling a bit guilty, Edel responded with a soft smile.
After returning to the mansion, Laszlo placed the portrait in his desk drawer, often pulling it out to gaze at it with a sigh.
“I should send it to Lady Celestine, but it feels a bit strange to do so now… I guess I’ll hold onto it for the time being.”
It seemed like a perfectly reasonable excuse to him.
—
As Linia’s personal attendant, Edel had a lot to do—none of it unexpected, but still a challenge.
For the first five days, she guided Linia on what suited her and what didn’t, along with which items were inappropriate for a young lady of the Count’s household.
The next five days were spent sorting Linia’s possessions into three categories: “to keep,” “to sell,” and “to discard.”
Once the clutter was cleared, Linia’s wardrobe, jewelry box, and vanity looked noticeably empty.
And so, an inevitable task loomed ahead.
“Now that we’ve emptied everything, it’s time to fill it up again.”
Linia declared this with a determined expression, then smiled warmly at Edel, as if saying, I’m counting on you.
That afternoon, staff from a tailoring shop visited the mansion.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Dora, a tailor from the atelier Dynamis.”
Linia had chosen one of the ateliers Edel had recommended, and Edel agreed it was a decent choice.
“I’d like to order an outfit for outings, a picnic dress, and an evening gown—one of each.”
“Wonderful! Please browse our catalog and select a design. Once it’s finalized, I’ll take your measurements right away.”
Hearing that Linia wanted three outfits at once, Dora couldn’t hide her excitement. But faced with the multiple catalogs handed to her, Linia looked overwhelmed.
Sensing this, Edel gently rested a hand on Linia’s shoulder and whispered.
“Would you like me to help?”
“Ah! Yes, please! What should we pick first?”
“It doesn’t really matter, but how about starting with the outfit for outings?”
“Okay, let’s do that.”
Linia began flipping through the catalog of casual dresses. She was surprised to see designs quite different from those suggested by Marcia’s preferred tailor.
“You already have two light-colored dresses, so I’d recommend a more subdued color for balance.”
“Hmm, yeah, that makes sense. How about this green one? I think it looks nice. What do you think?”
Linia pointed to a simple green dress, and Dora smiled awkwardly before cutting in.
“Instead of that, how about this white muslin dress? Muslin is perfect for summer! We’ve secured a limited stock of premium muslin, and I think it would suit you beautifully. In fact, some of our clients have had their eye on it, but I believe it’s just right for you.”
Her words were framed as if she were offering a rare privilege, and Linia seemed half-convinced.
However, Linia already owned a white muslin dress. Moreover, muslin’s popularity was starting to fade, and adding another similar dress wouldn’t provide much variety for her wardrobe.
“She’s obviously trying to unload excess stock,” Edel thought, seeing right through Dora’s intentions.
Dora had likely heard rumors about Linia before coming here—that she was a commoner unfamiliar with noble fashion trends and unable to distinguish between high- and low-quality materials. Even that was likely a charitable summary.
Edel subtly shook her head, catching Linia’s eye.
“You already have a white muslin dress. In my opinion, the green one you picked looks much better. It will complement your turquoise eyes beautifully.”
Dora quickly interjected again, trying to steer Linia away from the simpler choice.
“Of course, the green dress would look fine. But don’t you think it’s a bit plain? If you don’t like the muslin, how about this design? It’s one of our newest additions this season.”
The dress Dora pointed to was far too bold. Though naval-inspired styles were trending, this dress took the theme to the extreme with dark blue horizontal stripes and a sailor collar. It was the kind of outfit that would only stand out a couple of times before people started murmuring, “Oh, she’s wearing that dress again.”
And it’s probably outrageously expensive, Edel thought, irritation bubbling inside her.
It was clear that Dora intended to exploit Linia’s naivety to make a hefty profit.
