At Roselia De Hessink’s confident words, Melda muttered with a puzzled expression.
“That… it’s closer to an ornament than a mask….”
“Correct. It is not about covering the face like an iron mask to hide one’s true self, but rather adorning oneself with the most beautiful accessory to highlight your own features.”
Unlike the clunky Rugvelzet-style masks that obscured the entire face, Laphelios-style masks covered only the eyes or just one side, accented with ornate peacock feathers to add flair and elegance.
“Now, while the Laphelios-style mask is not yet in vogue, this is the perfect time to host a masquerade. Imagine yourself, My Lady: a beautiful young noblewoman wearing a mask adorned with peacock feathers, standing out amidst a sea of dull, clunky masks.”
For a moment, Melda stared into space with a dreamy expression, as if lost in imagination. Watching Melda, who had been completely won over by Roselia’s eloquence and looked ready to pluck the feathers herself, Closette looked at Roselia with renewed amazement.
Melda, having come to her senses, sprang up excitedly.
“I must tell Butler Jeffrey at once! Let’s make the masquerade the theme for your debutante, My Lady! We are running out of time if we are to have the Laphelios-style masks custom-made!”
Closette chuckled as she watched Melda hurry off toward the mansion with a joyful face.
“Melda seems quite excited.”
“I’m glad I could be of help.”
At Roselia’s blunt words, Closette narrowed her eyes.
“It truly is strange…. That whole business with the updo trend, and now this…. How are you so well-versed in trends? Especially for a man.”
Even though she knew it from the novel, Roselia only offered a calm smile.
“I just happened to be lucky. I can’t guarantee that this masquerade theme will become a trend either.”
In the original novel, the trend of masquerades began with the ball hosted by the Crown Princess, but there was no telling if it would happen again this time.
Closette, who had been staring intently at Roselia, soon flashed a meaningful smile.
“Fine, I’ve decided. You are going to participate in my debutante ball, too.”
“Pardon…?”
Seeing the calm smile on Closette’s face, Roselia asked back, wondering if she had heard wrong.
“You mean I should help with the banquet as a servant…?”
“No. I mean you should attend my masquerade as a guest.”
Roselia stared at Closette with wide, round eyes.
Of course, there were occasional nobles who treated their Il Domestico like decorative accessories and brought them along to banquets. But such individuals were almost always noblewomen with a certain standing in high society.
Closette was a young noblewoman just making her debut; there was no telling what kind of rumors would spread if she brought her Il Domestico to her own debutante ball.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea….”
“I said it’s fine, so what’s the problem? And it’s a masquerade, anyway. If you wear a mask, hardly anyone will recognize you, right?”
Well… that was true. If she didn’t take the mask off, it didn’t seem like it would cause much trouble.
Besides, she felt she might only be at ease if she kept an eye on the unpredictable Closette herself….
Roselia nodded reluctantly.
“Well, fine. But please, keep it a secret from the Duke.”
“Fine! The cold-blooded man wouldn’t care about my debutante anyway, would he?”
Their relationship as siblings seemed quite twisted, but since she had learned previously that interfering would only cause more trouble, Roselia just offered an awkward smile.
* * *
With about a month left until the debutante, Roselia decided to set out to find the next artwork to sell to the Crown Princess.
In the original story, the second piece the Crown Princess would take an interest in was a background painting by an unknown female artist.
In the novel, while the Crown Princess was wandering the village in disguise, she rescued a woman who was being beaten by men. The woman sadly passed away shortly after due to an underlying illness, but she gifted her painting to the heroine as a token of gratitude.
That was the second painting the Crown Princess would come to cherish.
Timing-wise, there were at least two months left before the female artist was due to die. The problem was… the place where the artist was staying….
Roselia checked her attire and pulled down a fedora that was slightly too large for her head.
As she entered the entrance and approached the man who appeared to be the owner, the man, who had been wiping a glass, gave her a side-long glance.
“Is this your first time here?”
Roselia tried not to let her stiff body be noticed and opened her mouth bluntly.
“Is there a woman named Nadya here?”
Hearing her melodic voice, the man stared at her intently for a moment.
Having seen countless women in the nude, cold sweat trickled down Roselia’s forehead, fearing he might have noticed.
But the man soon spoke nonchalantly, as if seeing a small man in such a place was routine.
“A customer for Nadya?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes….”
“That’s unusual. Having a customer ask for that frail girl…. Though, I suppose all sorts of men with all sorts of tastes come to this place.”
It seemed the man thought she had come looking for Nadya as a night customer.
Thinking she might as well play along since she would otherwise be kicked out by this rugged man, Roselia followed him obediently. She figured that as long as she could meet her, it didn’t matter what he thought.
Arriving in front of a shabby door, the man pointed his chin at the door and held out his hand.
Having never been to such a place, she, as a woman, had no idea how much she should give.
Hesitating, Roselia pulled out roughly 1 Berang and placed it in the man’s hand. It was a portion of the income she had earned from her work as Closette’s Il Domestico, in addition to the money she had made selling the painting.
Staring at the 1 Berang in his palm, the man’s eyes widened, and he vanished down the hallway with a greasy grin.
Was it more money than he expected?
Roselia shrugged her shoulders and pushed open the door the man had indicated.
Inside, a woman who looked half-naked sat on the edge of the bed with a blank expression.
The woman looked surprised that someone had entered her room.
“My, what a surprise. A customer….”
The smile she offered lacked any vitality.
She had a gaunt frame and brittle-looking hair, but she must have been quite a beauty; even under the sallow, deathly complexion, her features looked refined.
However, perhaps because her illness had worsened significantly, her hollow eyes and thin arms and legs were truly pitiful.
“Ms. Nadya, correct?”
“A rather polite customer, aren’t you?”
With a relaxed smile, the woman slowly approached Roselia.
She was wearing silk lingerie under her robe, which didn’t look seductive so much as it highlighted her thin shoulders and ribs, stirring a sense of pity.
Misunderstanding the situation entirely, Nadya’s actions forced Roselia to step back in embarrassment.
“Wait, Ms. Nadya, just a moment. I didn’t come here with that intention.”
“Hm? If that’s not your intention, why come here?”
“That is… I came to meet you, Ms. Nadya.”
At Roselia’s words, Nadya froze, her eyes widening.
“Ms. Nadya, do you paint?”
Stiffening for a moment, Nadya wiped away even the formal smile she had been wearing and looked at her with a dry gaze.
“Paint? Where did you hear such nonsense?”
This was strange. It was definitely the woman named Nadya…. That meant there was a high probability that she was lying.
“Why hide that you paint? I am someone who came to buy that painting.”
“Little boy, you tell funny stories…. What kind of painting would a bar girl who scrapes by day to day be doing?”
Having said that, Nadya sat on the bed and crossed her legs.
“Are you going to do it or not?”
“Pardon?”
“That’s all I sell here for money. If you don’t like it, get out.”
Her dry gaze, as if she had given up on the world, left Roselia speechless.
“Why… why go that far?”
To Roselia’s bitter question, Nadya offered a bitter smile.
“That’s how I’ve lived my life so far, so what can I do? If you’re just going to keep wasting my time, will you leave? I have other customers to take.”
Roselia had no choice but to leave the room.
She realized early on that there was no point in trying to persuade her any further. From the moment she entered as a customer, Nadya had been smiling, yet keeping her at a distance.
Coming into that room as a man and a customer would surely yield the same result.
But… if she were the same woman. Or perhaps a woman of the same profession, things might be different.
Roselia left the bar with a look of determination.
* * *
With her blonde hair flowing, Roselia stood before the bar owner with a confident expression.
Holding the purse of money, the bar owner asked back, wondering if he had heard wrong.
“So… you are giving me this money just to pretend you work here for the day?”
The man looked completely confused.
Work is work, but what does it mean to pretend to work?
Usually, the women here worked for hourly wages, but this woman was paying him, leaving him bewildered.
“Yes, I am only going to pretend to work here. Do not assign me any customers. That is what I am paying you for.”
The man’s gaze swept over Roselia’s entire body as she said this.
With a healthy, graceful figure, translucent white skin, and jewel-like green eyes, she possessed a freshness rarely found in women of this trade, along with an unidentifiable sense of confidence and arrogance!
She was an incredibly tempting figure, her charm as a woman overflowing.
Swallowing involuntarily, the man let out a blunt remark.
“Don’t do that. I’ll pay you a high hourly rate, so why not work for real….”
“Listen here. What do you think the money I gave you is for?”
Under her somewhat overwhelming aura, the pot-bellied man quickly backed down.
He simply assumed she was the daughter of some wealthy merchant who wanted to see the inside of a tavern.
“But, Miss… to work, or rather, to pretend to work here, I think you’ll need to change your clothes first….”
At the man’s words, Roselia scanned her own attire and looked around in puzzlement.
The women clinging to the sides of customers were all dressed in tight-fitting outfits that exposed their chests halfway.
Roselia frowned automatically, but… she thought that to get closer to Nadya, it wouldn’t hurt to be more thorough.
She wouldn’t be wearing it for long, and since she had no intention of serving customers anyway, she didn’t mind too much.
Roselia soon changed into the thin dress provided by the owner and stepped out into the hallway, feeling awkward.
The waist was excessively tight, and the curves of her chest were fully exposed, leaving her feeling strangely bare. The thin skirt that wrapped around her legs with every step revealed her hip and leg lines completely, making her feel incredibly self-conscious.
Just as she decided to go straight to Nadya’s room, her steps came to an abrupt halt.
She saw the familiar figure of a man walking from the opposite hallway.
A man who was frowning with a look of great displeasure, radiating an unpleasant aura.
Why is the Duke of Baltezar here!!