Chapter 11
Lu was searching for Dian Ket’s Legacy.
The butler assassin’s claim had some reasonably valid evidence behind it.
“A few days ago, you asked me if I knew anything about Dian Ket’s Eyeball. And while tidying up the master’s bedroom, I found a Midwintree tourist pamphlet with a bookmark stuck in the urban legends section. It briefly mentioned Dian Ket’s Eyeball.”
Lu putting a bookmark in a book? It just didn’t suit him at all.
‘That suspicious guy’s goal is a relic of Dian Ket.’
It was a combination that made sense.
However, it still seemed insufficient as a reason for Lu to work as a cook and gardener at the Weatherwoods Mansion. To play the part of a servant while having such an important objective?
There had to be a reason.
‘Could there be some connection between the Weatherwoods Mansion and Dian Ket’s relic?’
Ah, that sounded pretty plausible.
After leaving the pub cleanup to the butler assassin, I handed him the thick paper envelope I’d prepared in advance.
“What’s this?”
“The stall fees the Merchant Union took. We’re returning it to the creditors with generous interest added. Right, friends?”
“……”
“Right?”
“Yes, yep.”
Damn right. If you borrow money, you pay it back double.
With a much lighter heart, I left the pub.
They say it’s darkest under the lamp, and I felt the need to investigate the Weatherwoods Family more closely.
The next day at noon.
For some reason, the sky was overcast today. The humidity made it feel like rain would pour down as soon as the sun set.
As soon as lunch ended, I stood in front of the Weatherwoods Room, located next to the first-floor library.
Old noble families typically set aside a special room to store family treasures, genealogies, ancestors’ legacies, and portraits.
The Weatherwoods Family had prepared such a room inside the mansion as well.
The problem with inspecting the Weatherwoods Room was that, among the servants, only the Head Maid was allowed entry.
Clunk, clunk.
On top of that, it was locked, so no matter how much I turned the doorknob, it wouldn’t open.
‘I can’t force it open or it’ll be obvious, so my only option is to find the key and sneak in at dawn.’
No helping it.
I returned to the kitchen and brewed some tea myself.
A cup of tea made by steeping flower petals in the gentle spring breeze was one of the best ways to enjoy noon.
“Lu.”
I turned my head toward the window at the familiar voice.
I could see the Head Maid approaching Lu, who was sitting in the garden chair, and giving him various instructions. Lu smiled softly and nodded.
“Understood.”
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
Lu turned his gaze away and immersed himself back in his reading. A cook and gardener reading leisurely?
But Lu was always so relaxed.
The Head Maid didn’t particularly mind his leisure either. It was the relaxation he earned after perfectly completing his duties.
He worked so quickly that sometimes I wondered if he had four arms.
‘As expected, Lu doesn’t suit books.’
I silently gazed at Lu, seated in the middle of the verdant garden.
Under the light, his refined yet melancholic face, like a shadow, suited a drug addict more than a bookworm, liquor more than newspapers. Or a soldier suffering from severe PTSD. Or a hunter secluded in the forest.
But Lu was a cook, gardener, and rich man.
The gap between prejudice and reality was terrifying.
‘Drugged gladiator, underworld black market boss, shadowy guild master…’
As I listed off jobs that suited Lu one by one, I discovered something new about him that I hadn’t known before.
Namely, his utterly ragged ears.
Both his right and left ears were riddled with tiny holes.
Though I couldn’t see clearly, the cartilage and ear canal seemed to be in a similar state. And yet, he wore no accessories, leaving them sleek and bare.
Looking at those ears made him seem even more suspicious.
The holes were all precisely at acupoints where mana flow was smooth.
He had even pierced all the acupoints that ordinary mages might only do two or three of.
‘Just how many magic artifacts does he plan to wear?’
Magic artifacts were inherently rare.
Among them, those large enough to wear on the body were priceless, no matter how trivial their function.
Of course, Lu owned a mansion on Midwintree’s busiest street, so money itself wasn’t an issue for him.
The question was why he needed to wear so many.
The holes in his ears numbered over ten when both sides were combined. Even this country’s emperor wouldn’t need that many magic artifacts.
Today, too, I pondered.
‘Just what the hell is Lu?’
Flip. The sound of pages turning in the wind drifted over.
Lu’s hands, turning the pages, were elegant. They were long and slender, comparable to Daisy’s hands, which had no connection to swords.
There were no scars from cuts, large or small, nor any calluses.
Though his hands were large enough to cover my face and had knuckles protruding here and there, it was natural given Lu’s exceptional height.
Hands like that didn’t hold swords.
Considering everything, Lu was definitely a mage.
He probably crafted the magic artifacts he wore himself.
I’d suspected as much ever since hearing the testimony that he’d cast magic on the Eschla Mansion, but he was undoubtedly an exceptionally skilled mage.
“So.”
See? Even his voice was striking.
“If you’re going to stare at someone’s face for so long, shouldn’t you at least leave a review?”
A voice like pressing a red-hot branding iron deep into mud-smeared rock.
Should I pretend not to hear?
But since I’d decided to communicate with him, I couldn’t outright ignore him.
Pushing aside the questions piled up so high they reached my throat, I chose the safest topic.
“I planted the flowers.”
Namely, about the small, dainty flowerpot he’d entrusted to me.
Lu, who had turned his head, narrowed his shadowed eyes slightly and smiled.
“Dodging the question. Or does a flower come to mind every time you look at my face?”
Then he quickly wiped the picture-perfect smile from his face and said,
“I did plant a flower like you.”
A flower like me? What flower is like me? And how do you know what flower I planted?
What I planted weren’t even seedlings—just a few seeds I’d grabbed from the market.
“No pretending to know when you don’t.”
There was no way Lu knew the type of flower I didn’t even know.
“Pretending not to know? Hmm. So what did you plant?”
To avoid getting caught in the lie, I put on the most serious expression I could muster and replied.
“It’s a secret.”
A small, derisive laugh burst out.
“It’s rare to find anything as pathetic as not knowing what flower you yourself planted.”
Thud. Lu closed the book he’d been intently reading, revealing the title on the cover.
『The Continent’s Seven Great Mysteries Treasure Edition for Children』
Why was that?
Why was I so certain that book contained stories related to Dian Ket?
I belatedly recalled why I’d started scrutinizing Lu.
Dian Ket.
It was ironic. I’d tried to cut off my interest in him and focus on my own work, only to be linked again through the common thread of ‘Dian Ket.’
‘Is Lu only after Dian Ket’s Eyeball? Or the other four legacies as well?’
If I straight-up asked Lu if he was searching for Dian Ket, our mutual distrust might resolve surprisingly easily. If it had only involved the two of us, I definitely would have.
But the problem was that the butler assassin was the one who gave me this information.
The butler assassin was a valuable connection who could tip me off about Lu. If a moment’s poor judgment made Lu suspicious of him, and in the worst case, he got chased out, it would be a huge loss for me.
‘Above all, I can’t ignore the possibility that this man deliberately leaked it to me.’
This man, Lu.
A man as sly as they come once you peel off that glossy shell.
“Did you do something to upset Miss Daisy, Lu?”
“Who knows. Staring blankly at my face isn’t a one- or two-time thing. I might start charging admission from now on.”
And the most shameless bastard in the world.
“Miss Daisy has a sincere side, even if she doesn’t seem like it.”
The Head Maid, crossing the small garden, blocked my line of sight to Lu.
“Have you finished looking?”
“……Yes.”
“Then get back to work.”
This woman, the Head Maid.
The most heartless woman in Midwintree.
As I was about to stand up from leaning against the window,
Lu, who had strolled over with his long legs, handed me something. Caught off guard, I took the small wooden placard.
“What’s this?”
“Name the flower you planted and stick it in the pot.”
It was a plant name tag. Unbelievable.
“Why should I?”
He responded to my retort—which reeked of annoyance, hassle, and discomfort—with a kind smile.
“Because our Miss Daisy lacks sincerity. If you don’t know the species, at least give it a name. Responsibility starts unexpectedly from the smallest things.”
I stared at his broad shoulders as they vanished into the distance, then looked down at the wooden placard in my hand.
It’s not even an animal—what’s with naming it?
With a snort, I tossed it roughly into the trash bin. Then I slowly turned back and picked up the discarded wooden placard.
“Hmm.”
Lu was the type with a bad personality who’d make me pay double if I threw something like this away. It might be better to just go along since it wasn’t a big deal.
I pondered the flowerpot’s name for a long while and only stuck the placard in after the sun had set.
The placard was blank.
In the end, I gave up on naming it.
And that evening, a guest visited for the first time in a while.
