# Episode 22
That was bound to cost a fortune. I gave a firm shake of my head with the calmest expression I could muster, but Kirhin arched an eyebrow and urged me on.
Pressured by the momentum of the two men, I sheepishly pointed toward the perfume bottle, which brought a beam from ear to ear across the proprietor’s face. He hurried to unlock the display case and took the piece out with great care.
This was bad. Judging by the shopkeeper’s flushed excitement and his story, the price of that item was certain to surpass my wildest imagination. As I swallowed dryly, a click of the tongue escaped Kirhin as he leaned casually against the counter.
I waved both hands in flustered denial. I had no desire to be seen as shameless, let alone ungrateful. Surprisingly, Kirhin only offered an easy smile and patted my shoulder gently.
Fearing there was some hidden meaning behind his words, I studied his expression intently, but nothing showed. Kirhin’s hearty voice carried on.
Catching the gleam that flashed in the proprietor’s wrinkled eyes, I swiftly caught hold of Kirhin’s arm. I knew nothing of House Beekman’s true wealth, but even so, such extravagance was absurd. Besides, I could never bring myself to brazenly own such a treasure.
When I looked up at him in wide-eyed pleading, Kirhin suppressed an amused grin and gave the back of my hand an affectionate pat.
Beaming from ear to ear, the shopkeeper pressed the perfume bottle into my hands and fairly flew off. Caught between tears and laughter, I froze like a stone statue and merely cast my gaze down. Terrified that gripping it too tight might scratch the surface, I barely dared to breathe.
Ah, but it was breathtaking. So lovely that simply looking at it gave me the sweet illusion of having become immensely noble myself.
The smooth press of metal against my calloused hands, the branches and leaves vibrant with life, and the gem at the center emitting its serene yet piercing luminescence—it was absolute perfection. I could stare at it all day without ever growing weary.
As my voice trembled unbidden, Kirhin’s eyebrows rose in an amused smile.
Fearing I might drop it, my hands trembled faintly. When I finally forced myself to look up at Kirhin, he tipped his chin toward the window.
Turning my gaze along with his, I spotted a young girl of perhaps ten stretching out both arms toward a man who appeared to be her father. She seemed to be begging for an embrace. When the bearded man let out a laugh and scooped her up with one arm, the child’s bell-like laughter chimed brightly across the street.
They were father and daughter; our situation was entirely different. Moreover, I was hardly a child like that, and above all, I had never once acted cute or wheedled like that with anyone, least of all a father. Heat rose in my cheeks from sheer embarrassment.
Spreading his arms wide without a shred of shame, Kirhin offered a mischievous grin and crooked his fingers. For an instant, I nearly blurted out that I would rather not have the bottle at all, but I clamped my jaw shut.
Opportunity arrived without warning, and once missed, there was no telling when it might return. From now on, I intended to reach out for every single chance. To do that, I needed courage I had never managed to muster before.
When I forced my arms up like stiff blocks of wood, Kirhin chimed in as if coaxing a toddler: “There, that’s it, good girl.” The words only redoubled my shame, but knowing he was relishing my embarrassment helped me move my feet.
Shuffling toward him like a baby who had barely learned to walk, I threw myself forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. My cheek met the solid breadth of his chest. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I barely managed to drag out a muffled whisper.
Kirhin burst out laughing and patted my back with a steady hand. Flustered to the point that I wanted to dissolve into dust, a sudden swelling warmth surged within my chest all the same.
Showing someone affection and having it received. Experiencing it as something completely natural and ordinary.
Was this what warmth between family felt like? Even if mine was a counterfeit.
…If a fake could be this warm, why had the real thing been so cold?
A sudden prickling stung my eyes from the tangle of emotions, and I pressed a fraction deeper into his broad chest. A flicker of dread whispered that he might push me away, but Kirhin did no such thing. The hand stroking my back only softened. The newly purchased items had been packed into a carriage and sent ahead. I had tried tallying their prices halfway through before giving up. It was a sum I could not have afforded had I labored for a century.
Walking toward the carriage waiting for us, Kirhin drew out a long stretch. A thoroughly satisfied look was draped across his radiant face.
Clutching the perfume bottle pinned to my dress, I felt the color drain from my face. My soul had already half-escaped my body and scattered into the air.
My head spun at his answer, and I tightened my grip on the bottle.
Right, look on the bright side. Had it not been for that, I never would have gained such a sumptuous treasure.
Perhaps repeat exposure would accustom me to it in time. I hadn’t been skilled at sewing from the start either. Being able to mend torn fabric in the dark purely by touch had come only after enduring the agonizing trial of pricking my fingertips dozens of times.
Before I could voice an answer to Kirhin’s musings, a sharp scream suddenly pierced my ears. Instinctively thrusting me behind his back, Kirhin turned his head. Ahead of us, the cluster of pedestrians parted to the side.
A hulking brute flung the woman onto the ground like a rag doll. As the onlookers backed away in droves, our view opened wide. Everyone merely watched with keen interest, none showing the slightest inclination to help.
The faded garments of the woman scrambling clumsily from the dirt were stained with dust, and her dull red hair, tied back, was a tangled mess. The moment my gaze locked squarely with those tear-rimmed eyes, a sharp breath caught in my throat.
