22
Episode 22
"Pahend Nube. It's an honor to be called, Belinda."
"Nice to meet you. We're from Eschar."
"I've always been looking forward to meeting you. I'm Renhal!"
"I'm, I'm Rohas."
"We are..."
A strange tension flowed between the people standing side by side, introducing their dressmaking shops.
They had made a name for themselves in society, but they ran dressmaking shops that weren't successful enough to take on commissions from high-ranking nobles.
But this morning, out of the blue, a commission came from the Blanche family, Belinda Blansche.
Belinda Blansche, who was she?
The infamous hellraiser whose name was on the tabloids every day, and a famous celebrity whose clothes and accessories were so popular that it was no exaggeration to say that they were the trend in society.
It was a heaven-sent opportunity.
If they could only catch her eye, they could leap forward to become a high-end dressmaking shop that only catered to high-ranking nobles.
'I canceled other reservations that I had, thinking that...'
She wasn't the only one who had been called.
Belinda, who was leaning elegantly on the couch, listening to the long introductions of the dressmaking shop owners, yawned languidly.
Then, like a tyrant looking down on the gladiators in the Colosseum, she declared cruelly.
"From now on, you must make clothes for that poor-looking Wizard."
"Yes? Me?"
Vivian, who was munching on dried jerky as a snack, blinked her eyes.
Ignoring her, Belinda continued.
"I will give a reward worthy of my name to the one who makes the most suitable clothes. However, if you present terrible clothes that do not meet my standards..."
She finished her words in a low voice, with a murderous smile on her lips.
"You will regret being called to this place for the rest of your life."
The eyes of the dressmaking shop owners, facing as many as nine competitors, flashed with fighting spirit.
"Wizard!"
"Do you have a favorite color?"
"What style do you want?"
"You'd prefer practical clothes to a fancy dress, wouldn't you?"
"Wizard, would you like to see the fabric samples here first?"
"W-w-w-w-why are you all doing this to me!"
Even with Vivian's screams, Belinda flipped through the catalog as if it were nothing.
"Belinda! I, I don't need new clothes. This is too much! So please get me out of here... Ugh, my waist, my waist is too tight, ugh!"
Vivian was so pitifully tearful that Belinda, who couldn't bear to watch, kindly relieved her of her burden.
"How long do you expect me to tolerate you wandering around my house looking like a vagrant? I'm doing this for myself, not for you, so be quiet and let me take your measurements."
After a long time, Vivian, her body and mind tattered, collapsed on the armchair.
The tailors were busy adding and basting various things to the clothes they had brought as samples.
Belinda asked Vivian, without taking her eyes off the catalog, as if it were a passing remark.
"Vivian, I looked at the recipe you wrote down for me at lunch yesterday, but there's nothing particularly special about it."
"The recipe I wrote down for you at lunch...? Oh, that?"
Vivian barely raised her upper body and answered.
"The method is not difficult, so anyone with some knowledge can easily make it."
"I see."
Belinda had a thoughtful look on her face for a moment, then opened the locked drawer of the side table next to the couch with a key.
Then, as if to check something, she took out a piece of paper from inside and stared at it for a long time before shaking her head.
"I don't know how such a simple recipe can have an addictive effect. More than that, who is Cecil written here?"
It was at that moment.
"Ah!"
A scream erupted from the group of apprentice tailors who were sewing combatively.
The woman, who seemed to have pricked her finger with a needle, covered her hand and slowly raised her head to look at Belinda.
A androgynous face with an ambiguous gender.
Ash-gray hair cut short to reveal her ears.
A neat smile, as if drawn, lingered on her face, but it was strange because of that.
There was no reason to smile, and it wasn't a situation to smile.
Just as the woman's mouth was about to open.
Thwack!
A middle-aged woman, who appeared to be her superior, hurriedly pressed down on the woman's head to make her bow her head.
"I'm sorry. My daughter seems to be nervous because she's in front of such a precious person. She's not usually one to make such mistakes..."
"A mistake..."
A strange smile appeared on Belinda's lips.
"You said you were Marilyn from the Bluebird Dressmaking Shop, right?"
"Yes, yes."
"And this child is?"
"Terry."
Belinda's gaze turned to the clothes Terry was working on this time.
The craftsmanship was so excellent that there was not a single stitch mark on the robe, which generously used green velvet.
"Good skill."
Belinda, who was lifting the clothes with the end of her fan and examining them carefully, declared.
"I'll go with this outfit. The rest can finish their work. I'll pay you enough."
"Th-thank you."
Belinda asked Marilyn, who was flustered.
"Do you make men's clothing too?"
"It's my husband's job, but he's not feeling well and is resting now."
"That's a shame. I was expecting men's clothing too, since your wife's skills are so excellent."
But unlike her words, she didn't look very disappointed.
Belinda, who had returned to the couch, put the recipe back in the drawer and sealed it as if nothing had happened, then leisurely fanned herself.
"Vivian, we're going out for dinner tonight, so get ready."
"Belinda, I appreciate your thoughts, but this is not the time..."
"I'm having fun for once, so don't ruin my mood."
Vivian's mouth was tightly shut, but she couldn't hide the anxiety and impatience in her eyes.
Belinda covered her mouth with her fan and whispered as if to soothe her.
"Some things are naturally resolved when you wake up in the morning. So you should take good care of your body as I tell you to."
Belinda's gaze, as she said that, was still fixed on Terry, who was bowing her head and not moving.
* * *
Late at night.
There was a night visitor who infiltrated the Blanche family's mansion, which had ironclad security.
The person, who moved like a shadow without a sound, didn't even glance at the Blanche's main building, where all kinds of wealth were piled up like a dragon's nest.
He just moved his steps familiarly, as if he were using a walking path he frequented, and headed for the detached building, which was unusually deserted.
Finally, a murderous intent lingered in the eyes of the intruder, who was looking up at the exterior of the old-fashioned detached building.
"To dare do such a thing..."
Gritting.
With the sound of gnashing teeth, he climbed up the wall in one fell swoop and crossed the window of the second-floor room.
All the movements were as natural as flowing water, and there was not even a small noise.
He didn't even properly look around the room in his haste and hurriedly reached for the drawer of the side table next to the couch. The lock was no problem for him.
Click.
The intruder, who easily unlocked the lock with a thin wire, hurriedly grabbed the paper placed in the drawer.
The intruder's eyes narrowed as he checked the recipe written on the paper. The handwriting was so bad that it was difficult to understand the contents right away.
He groped and read the top line.
"Cecil's..."
Just as the intruder's face was about to brighten.
"Did you come looking for the recipe?"
"......!"
He tensed all the nerves in his body as if struck by lightning at the sudden voice.
He instinctively looked for an escape route. It took him only a blink of an eye to identify all the escape routes and find the most efficient route.
Just as he was about to put strength into his feet to leap.
"Remember, you can't kill him. Don't make any noise so the Acorn mouse doesn't wake up."
"Yes."
The intruder momentarily stepped back at the shadow of the huge demon blocking his path.
He already knew that Belinda had a knight from the north of unknown origin as her escort.
The martial power of the northern knights was already well-known throughout the continent, but they were still just human beings.
He thought that it would be possible to avoid them and escape, rather than fighting them head-on.
'Wow, isn't this too much to ask of a human being?'
No, even if you think about it inhumanly, this isn't right. Is that the same person as me?
Cold sweat ran down his back from the sense of oppression and fear as if he were facing the devil himself.
If he showed even the slightest movement, death would be upon him at that moment.
In the end, he made a quick decision.
"I surrender, I surrender!"
He declared his surrender obediently and decided to save his life for now.
Just in time, the moon, which had been hidden by the clouds, revealed its appearance and illuminated the scenery in the room.
Belinda shrugged her shoulders as she examined the familiar face revealed under the bright moonlight.
"You said you were Terry. You didn't come to bring the finished clothes this late at night, did you?"
Terry answered with his hands raised high and his lips pouting.
"Our dressmaking shop's service spirit is so thorough. I wanted to show you the finished clothes right away, so I ran over here this late at night."
"You're babbling well, even though you came empty-handed."
Terry didn't get excited at the blatant sarcasm.
The recipe was still in his grasp.
If he could find out the recipe for "Cecil's Lullaby," he could make an antidote in reverse, and that would surely save that person.
'If I'm prepared to give up an arm and run away...'
The navy blue Terry's eyes darkened at the moment of his desperate determination.
"Recipe, are you sure you don't want to check it?"
Terry felt a strange sense of incongruity at Belinda's softly asking voice.
He didn't refuse Belinda's suggestion and slowly examined the contents of the paper he was holding in his hand.
And...
Cecil's Special Lemon Tart Recipe
Freshly squeezed lemon juice and two thinly sliced lemons, three spoonfuls of fresh butter, and plenty of sugar...
"What is this..."
Belinda leisurely admired Terry's terribly distorted face.
Then, her voice, reciting the last line of the recipe, was filled with the composure of a winner.
"Guaranteed to be addictively delicious that you won't know if two people eat it and three people die. Keep it a secret. I didn't know you liked lemon tart so much that you would steal the recipe."
"I definitely mentioned 'Cecil's Lullaby'..."
Only then did Terry realize.
"I don't know how such a simple recipe can have an addictive effect..."
"More than that, who is Cecil written here?"
Belinda had never mentioned "Cecil's Lullaby" with her own mouth even once.
If you weren't a resident of the slums, you wouldn't have reacted to the ordinary name "Cecil."
Everything was his misunderstanding, judging hastily based on fragmentary words.
Belinda smiled with a cruel face, as if savoring the embarrassment on Terry's face, and whispered.
"You must have been very impatient. For the Sewer Rat to fall into such a clumsy trap."
However, it was Cesar, not Terry, who reacted to those words.
"Sewer Rat?"
A strange tone, as if he knew some secret hidden in the word Sewer Rat.
"Sir, let me introduce you. This is Terry, an apprentice tailor at the Bluebird Dressmaking Shop and a member of the information organization Sewer Rat."
"How did you know I was a Sewer Rat...?"
Cesar asked, and Terry, who was about to lower his hand slightly, raised both arms again at his gaze and expressed his agreement.
So, what happened was...
