♚Chapter 1: The Werewolf Count and the Trickster Tailor

 

 

 

♚Chapter 1: The Werewolf Count and the Trickster Tailor

 

THE bell hanging over the shop door rang, drawing tailor Rock’s attention. Someone’s shadow loomed in the dark doorway. The enormous figure nearly touched the ceiling and pressed against the doorframe.

Rock had become so engrossed in joining garment parts with basting stitches that closing up shop for the night had completely slipped the tailor’s mind. Floria Clothes Shop was almost always closed by this time, and the shop assistant had already gone home for the day.

Rock stood and called out to the late-night visitor over the counter. “Welcome. I don’t usually receive customers at this hour.”

The towering figure hidden in the shadows ponderously swung its head, its gleaming eyes—a brighter shade of golden yellow than the swaying candle flames—locked on Rock.

Tailor Rock was a trickster who lived a double life.

Roxy “Rock” Floria was a full-fledged twenty-year-old woman who assumed a male identity while operating her tailor shop. Disguising herself was the only way to survive and run a successful business in the slums where crooks, thieves, ruffians, and other riffraff called home.

As luck would have it, her God-given trim figure and catlike, sharp facial features proved useful in assuming a male guise. Cutting her wine-colored hair to fall evenly beneath her ears and donning men’s shirts and slacks made her look just like a poor and unambitious young man. In spite of being mocked for her fragile appearance by those who thought she was a man, she had in turn gained a peaceful life in the Empire’s imperial capital.

But on this night, Rock met a trickster who lived a double life on par with her own.

“May I have a full set of clothes?”

The owner of that low, rumbling voice was a werewolf.

Pointed upright ears twitched on top of the werewolf’s head, his sinewy body bristled with fur blacker than night, his arms—thick as logs—hung at his side, and a bushy tail swayed behind his long, powerful legs. Rock had heard the rumors—that a werewolf was living hidden somewhere within the imperial capital. Word had it that the werewolf normally disguised itself as a human, living among the people as if it were one of them, only to show its true colors with night’s arrival when it fed upon the unsuspecting citizens like cattle.

“Eek…” A small cry spilled passed Rock’s lips.

The werewolf raised his clawed hands in a submissive gesture as if to set the tailor’s mind at ease. “Don’t be scared, lad. I only came for clothes.”

Razor-sharp fangs flashed from his big mouth with every word he spoke, his visage exactly like that of a wolf’s. Asking Rock not to be scared was an unreasonable request, but she answered him through her violent trembling.

“You came…for clothes?”

“Indeed. As you can see, all my clothing has ripped.” The werewolf spread his forearms, showing off his entire wolfish frame.

Fur blacker than the night sky was all that covered his body, the faint outline of tempered pectoral muscles peeking through the tufts. By every definition, he was stark naked, but the customer was a ginormous werewolf whose head grazed the shop ceiling and whose arms barely fit through the door. It begged the question: Does a werewolf need to wear clothing as men do?

“You aren’t looking to purchase ready-made items, are you?” Rock asked apprehensively. Seeing the werewolf bob his head, she continued in a hoarse voice, “As you can see for yourself, this is a clothing shop for ordinary humans. It is questionable whether such clothing will fit you, sir.”

Among the selection of ready-made clothing were tunics and other stretchable garments, but this werewolf was several times bigger than even her largest customer. Watching her precious wares ripping one after the other was unthinkable.

The werewolf met Rock’s doubts with a refined bow. “That’s just it, lad. I’m seeking clothes meant for an ordinary human.” Sweeping his eyes about the shop with his perked ears twitching, he asked, “Is it all right for me to take a full set of clothes off your hands? You are…the shopboy, I presume?”

His bizarrely gentle-mannered question only amplified Rock’s distress. “I am the shopkeeper here.”

The werewolf appeared startled by her honest answer. His wolfish visage did nothing to hide his dilated golden pupils. “You are? You look surprisingly young to be one.”

“I may not look it, but I am twenty.”

“Heh…you are a man, correct?”

“Yes, I am.” After lying, Rock mustered her courage to step out from behind the counter. She set about coordinating a full gentleman’s outfit from the ready-made pieces in the shop per the werewolf’s request, then placed the clothing in his fur-covered hand.

“Where might I find the fitting room, shopkeeper?”

“Um, you can change in the back.”

“Thank you.” The werewolf vanished into the back of the shop as directed, his fluffy tail swishing behind him.

After seeing him off, Rock sunk to the floor.

To think the rumored werewolf would visit her shop.

Rock had never met anyone who’d actually seen one in person either. But whispers of people who’d glimpsed a werewolf or had been devoured by one in the imperial capital spread from person to person as if they were true. She thought the stories of a monster that prowled the streets in the dead of night, sinking its fangs into human prey moments after ensnaring them, was nothing more than an old wives’ tale—until she saw one with her own eyes

The werewolf was real.

He had appeared in her shop and was currently changing in the back.

For all the stories of werewolves attacking and feeding on people, this one acted like a courteous gentleman. All the same, he had a monstrous appearance. Rock had best gather her wits about her and come up with a plan in case he decided to snack on her after he finished changing.

“But how do you defend against a werewolf…?” Rock muttered in despair.

Currently the only person in the shop, she had no one to seek help from. Screaming wasn’t going to spur the lazy city constables into taking on a werewolf or rushing to the aid of a resident of the slums. The impulse to turn tail and dash out of the shop coursed through Rock, but she couldn’t abandon the business that meant more to her than her own life.

In the end, she gripped one of the canes for sale and waited for the werewolf’s return.

What stepped out of the fitting room after a short wait was—

“This is some fine tailoring. You’re skilled, shopkeeper.”

—a handsome young man with hair the color of burnt sienna.

He appeared to be in his midtwenties with a symmetrical physique and taller than average height. Rock’s tailored shirt and pants fit well against his toned arms and legs, which had no trace of werewolf fur. His chiseled Adonis face didn’t bear the slightest resemblance to that wolfish visage, except for the golden gleam of his almond-shaped eyes.

“What I normally wear doesn’t fit my werewolf body.” The young man spoke to the frozen Rock with the same gentleness as earlier. “But you saved me from a great embarrassment. I came very close to not being able to return home. You have my thanks, lad.”

Rock slowly lowered the cane and stuttered in a quivering voice, “I-I am glad to have been of service.”

The young man chuckled lightly. “I seem to have given you quite the scare. A natural reaction, but please forgive me.”

His apology only served to further Rock’s confusion.

Werewolves were said to transform into humans during the day, but this was the middle of the night. And he was boldly revealing his true form to Rock. Just who was this young man?

“Incidentally, shopkeeper, I feel bad about doing this after you assisted me, but—”

When the young man suddenly spoke in an overly polite manner, Rock braced herself for the worst. He wasn’t going to attack her now, was he? “Wh-What…is it?”

“I currently don’t have any money on hand. My wallet exploded somewhere with my clothing when I transformed.”

“…Pardon?”

This…shouldn’t have been completely unexpected. The werewolf had been naked. He had nothing on him that could’ve held money, so not having his wallet wasn’t a convenient lie. But that was problematic for a tailor.

“I will pay you back with interest in the near future. Could you add it to my tab until then?” the young man requested without batting an eye.

Rock hurried to object. “I can’t do that. My shop’s policy is not to let customers pay at a later date.”

Letting people pay later in the slums would put her out of business faster than the pickpockets nicked watches. This was a policy Rock had sternly adhered to for the three years she’d run her shop. Even a werewolf became subject to store policies the moment he took clothing from her.

“But I don’t have my wallet. A tab is the only option,” the young man brazenly insisted, showing little remorse despite being in the wrong. “I promise to pay you back. I can make an oath before God if you like.”

Swearing to God had less value than trash in this godforsaken district, but since he was willing to say that much, Rock compromised.

“Please tell me your name and address, then. If you don’t come back to pay me, I will go to you to collect the debt.”

The young man held his chin in his hand contemplatively before answering. “I’m Ebel Mateus. My home is located in the aristocrat district.”

Mateus was the same last name as the count’s. Rock knew the name even though she wasn’t raised in the imperial capital. She could hardly believe a werewolf was a member of the famous Mateus family.

“You jest. A werewolf in the count’s family wouldn’t end at just being a big scandal.” Rock glowered in reproach of his lie.

Ebel shook his head, his expression unchanged. “I’m not lying. I won’t deny there would be a massive uproar should the people discover the count’s a werewolf, but if no one ever finds out, there’s no uproar to be had.” The brazen young man was even claiming he was His Excellency the Count. Adding to Rock’s feeling of light-headedness, Ebel lowered his voice and stressed, “And, shopkeeper, I presume you can keep your customers’ secrets confidential?”

Having her pride as a businesswoman called into question, Rock spontaneously agreed. “O-Of course, Your Excellency.”

“Then please do. I will return on the morrow with your money.” Ebel graced her with a classy smile before vanishing into the sleepless slums.

He just deftly escaped with my clothes, Rock thought with regret once she pulled herself together. But not even the droves of scammers and crooks nesting in the slums would turn into a werewolf to pull off such petty thievery. He absconded with only a shirt, pants, and shoes. Valuable wares that they were to Rock, they weren’t expensive goods worth stealing at the risk of exposing his identity.

What just happened? She pressed a hand against her forehead.

♚♚♚

PHOEBE scrunched up her nose when she came to work the next morning. “Blimey! What is with this smell? It reeks in here!” Phoebe’s throaty complaint echoed painfully through Rock’s sleep-deprived brain. She looked up from the newspaper to see Phoebe’s beautiful feminine face glaring at her. “Don’t tell me you picked up a stray dog off the streets?! You can’t do stuff like that when you run a business!”

“I didn’t take in a stray,” Rock demurred.

Suspicion creased Phoebe’s brow. “Then why the smell? I sure hope you didn’t bring home a vagrant.”

“I didn’t do that either. Maybe you smell last night’s customer,” Rock speculated, even though she didn’t remember smelling the werewolf after fear had numbed her senses. She did, however, catch a whiff of an unfamiliar beast when she opened the door in the morning.

Last night hadn’t been just a dream.

“Turn away smelly customers. They’re bad for business, Rock.” Phoebe brushed her bony right hand through her thick chestnut hair.

She—he—was someone living a double life just like Rock.

At first glance, she looked like a tall, big-boned, glamorous beauty, but a gruff male voice came out whenever she opened her rouged lips. She insisted she wanted to live as a woman and had no desire to return to being a man.

Apparently, Phoebe was Rock’s long-lost father’s lover.

Rock’s mother, the woman who raised her single-handedly, revealed the whereabouts of her father on her deathbed. Following her mother’s final request to rely on her father living in the imperial capital, Rock departed the rural village she was raised in to visit him. Three years had already passed since then.

Sadly, Phoebe was the only person present at the address her mother gave her, and she informed Rock that her father had already departed this world too.

“I’m Phoebe. I was very intimate with your father.”

At first, Rock had mixed feelings about Phoebe, who introduced herself that way in a husky voice.

But Phoebe had fastidiously held on to the inheritance left by Rock’s father without taking a single coin. She even encouraged Rock, who had no other relatives, and suggested she live in the imperial capital. Before she knew it, Rock was drawn to Phoebe’s outgoing and affectionate personality.

Phoebe stayed by Rock’s side, supporting her business venture in the slums. It was at Phoebe’s suggestion no less that Rock dressed as a man to protect herself, and that smart plan paid off in Floria Clothes Shop’s success.

But her male disguise did nothing to ward off last night’s customer. Rock’s weak arms wouldn’t stand a chance against the werewolf if he bared his fangs at her. Though she doubted being a strong man would’ve made a difference.

“Phoebe, do you know of Count Mateus?” Rock questioned Phoebe indirectly about her surprise customer.

“Mateus? Members of that family have been counts for ages. Hard not to know of them.” Phoebe shrugged her broad shoulders. “The previous count died several years ago, leaving his young son to inherit the title. His name is… What was it again…”

“Ebel Mateus?” Rock supplied.

“Yes, that’s him. He’s a fine young man, you know?” Phoebe related with delight, then suddenly became suspicious. “Why the sudden interest in Count Mateus?”

“I-I wouldn’t say I’m interested in him. I was just curious because I overheard the customers gossiping.” Rock told no one, not even Phoebe, about last night.

She wanted to talk about the fear she felt with someone else, but speaking of it would drag Phoebe into trouble with her. Phoebe was a sympathetic listener who worried about Rock more than anyone else, but there was no telling what the werewolf would do if he found out.

And above all else, as tailor, she needed to keep her customers confidential.

“I’d say the previous count is more well-known in these parts.” Unaware of Rock’s inner turmoil, Phoebe giddily reminisced about the noble. “The late Count Mateus was known for his incessant passion for all things antique. He was renowned for buying even the most worthless old jars and sculptures for a good chunk of coin if the seller made up a good story about it.” Phoebe chuckled and delightfully added, “But then the conmen were left holding the bag when young master Ebel took over and stopped buying from them.”

From Phoebe’s explanation, it seemed the previous count had a reason to wander around the slums, but Rock heard no rationale for why Ebel Mateus should be doing so. Then it was questionable whether the man last night was really His Excellency the Count. Chances were increasing that neither her clothes nor the payment for them were coming.

“I wonder if I was tricked…”

Enduring a traumatizing experience was one thing, but Rock was more frustrated by the werewolf making off with her wares.

♚♚♚

EBEL visited the shop again that day, disproving Rock’s doubts.

He arrived at the same late hour as the prior night and in the same werewolf form.

“Shopkeeper, forgive me for not keeping my promise.” The werewolf’s pointed ears folded flat against his furry head as he stood in front of Rock while she closed up shop after sending Phoebe home for the day. How scary he came across to her yesterday felt like a lie when she saw him submissively hunched over like a badly scolded dog.

“You didn’t keep your promise? I didn’t think you would actually come back at all,” Rock told him frankly, her fear left in the dust after waiting a whole day for him in vain.

“I don’t steal,” Ebel burst out, offended. “My appearance runs counter to what I’m about to say, but I endeavor to act in a manner that doesn’t disgrace my title.”

Certainly, if theft were his goal, he could’ve threatened her and gotten away with anything in his werewolf form. His gentlemanly behavior devoid of aggression proved he at least had no intention of harming Rock.

Ebel spoke apologetically over Rock’s reluctant acceptance of his excuse. “On that note…this is incredibly difficult for me to say, but I lost my wallet again.”

“How did that happen?”

“Drunkards often pick on me when I’m walking in the slums. Things were going well when I took on this form to casually sidestep them, but then the soldiers were called for along the way.”

Some people definitely had a way of always finding trouble with others, but in Rock’s opinion, he only made things worse by transforming into a werewolf every time that happened. Nothing was reported in the morning paper, but “Werewolf Disturbance” seemed like a likely headline for tomorrow’s edition.

“I was so preoccupied with throwing them off my trail that I failed to retrieve my wallet.” Ebel scratched the area between his fluffy ears with his sharp black claws. “And I find myself without clothing yet again this evening. I am fully aware I’m asking for a lot, but…”

Exasperated to the core by the way he broached the subject, Rock sighed. “Do you waste good clothing every time you become a werewolf, Your Excellency?”

“I do not waste clothing…because I want to—”

“No, you do waste clothing. As a tailor, it is difficult for me to forgive anyone who doesn’t respect the clothes on their back, even if that person is His Excellency the Count himself.”

Rock had put her heart into each stitch that went into every piece of clothing she gave him yesterday night. The material may have been too inferior for the count’s wardrobe, but that didn’t make it any less valuable to her. Picturing the results of her labor in shreds aggravated her more than not being paid.

“I am sorry. But I made every attempt to care for the clothing I bought at your shop,” Ebel beseeched in a thin voice, his head drooping along with his ears. His stunning bushy tail tucked between his legs.

At a glance, he looked like a supernatural werewolf, but he showed his depression like a big dog. He was becoming more difficult to understand by the minute.

Losing most of her anger to exasperation, Rock let out another sigh. “Your Excellency, am I correct to understand it is not your desire to waste clothing?”

“Absolutely! You could say what happened last night and tonight were entirely out of my control. So-called acts of God.” Ebel nodded his head vigorously. “I would jump at any solution that wouldn’t destroy my clothes in the transformation process. If this keeps up, one of these days I’m going to return to my mansion naked as a newborn babe.”

“I might be of service in that case.” Fortunately for Ebel, Rock had both the skill and knowledge of an expert tailor. “If you will pay me for last night and tonight, plus add extra for the custom-made tailoring fees, I will tailor an outfit to fit your needs. Naturally, these will be no ordinary clothes. It will be clothing that doesn’t rip apart when you transform. How about it, Your Excellency?” Affected by Ebel’s depression over ripping his clothes every day, Rock made this offer.

Ebel’s drooping head jerked up, his golden eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “What a brilliant plan!” With his ears perked and tail wagging, he leaned forward and gazed into Rock’s eyes. “You have my thanks, shopkeeper! I most assuredly want you to do that for me!”

“P-Please wait. Money comes first, Your Excellency.” Panicked by his wet black nose rubbing against her cheek, Rock quickly pushed the werewolf away.

He answered her with a roaring laugh. “You have a point there. Then I vow to have the money to you on the morrow.”

It was a verbal promise, but Rock had little choice but to believe he’d keep to it.

Rock handed Ebel a full set of gentlemen’s clothes as she had the prior night, and he returned from the fitting room dressed as a dashing young man.

“Shopkeeper, may I ask your name?” Ebel inquired on his way out the door, burnt sienna hair on his head in place of furry black ears.

Rock found his unexpected question suspicious, but she had already learned his name. It wouldn’t be fair if she was the only anonymous one. As it stood, Phoebe was the only person in all of the imperial capital who knew her real name.

“I go by Rock Floria,” she said, introducing herself with her alias.

Ebel repeated it with a refined smile. “Rock… It seems a little too lackadaisical to be your name.”

“I’m fond of it, thank you.”

“Then I shall do my best to grow fond of it too,” Ebel conceded. His eyes, gazing straight into hers, gleamed the same striking shade of gold in human form too.

He must grab the attention of everyone in the slums with his attractive looks, Rock mused, then added for good measure, “Do whatever it takes not to quarrel with drunks again tomorrow.”

She warned him with a hint of cynicism, yet Ebel’s eyes widened into golden saucers, his face lighting up. “Thank you, Rock. I will keep my promise this time.”

♚♚♚

ROCK closed up shop earlier than usual the next day. Naturally, she sent Phoebe home early too.

“What’s the big idea trying to get me out of the building at this time? You really are bringing home a man, aren’t you?” Phoebe was deeply suspicious of her, but Rock brushed off the question with a vague answer.

“A well-paying customer is coming. They reserved the place for the evening is all.”

“A trustworthy customer, I hope?”

“Obviously. Phoebe, I’m not a child anymore.”

After managing to send Phoebe home at the end of their heated dispute, Rock hung the “Closed for a Private Fitting” sign on the shop door.

Ebel arrived in the evening as a young man with burnt sienna hair. “Forgive me for being late. Before we start, take the money owed to you.”

He paid her with interest as he had promised. Rock accepted the leather pouch stuffed with gold coins, counted each coin within, and gleefully thanked him. “Thank you very much, Your Excellency!”

“…This is the first time I have seen you smile, Rock,” Ebel noted with an enigmatic grin, but to Rock, money was the only thing you could really trust in this world. Receiving payment, not just promises, finally made her willing to trust him. “Should I pay for my tailor-made order today as well?”

Apparently, His Excellency was a generous spender as long as he had his wallet. Thrilled to get her hands on a good customer, Rock ecstatically informed him, “I will give you the estimate once I measure you. Follow me, Your Excellency.” She showed him into the fitting room in the back and began taking some basic measurements. “Let’s design it so it readily comes off when your body grows bigger.”

Ebel looked doubtful as Rock held the measuring tape up to his body. “Is that possible?”

“Using hooks instead of buttons will make it easier to slip on and off.”

She planned to alter the shirt and vest to close with hooks. Trousers posed the biggest challenge, but tailoring them to the bigger size of his werewolf body and making the waistline adjustable with a sash belt should make it easy for him to strip off when the time came.

“You have a knack for finding yourself in brawls with drunks, after all,” Rock said with a laugh, amused. Ebel smiled along with her, although his smile came across as tentative and lonely.

“That was a lie, Rock.”

“The part about drunkards picking on you was a lie?”

“Yes. I was actually patrolling this area.”

Rock lowered her hand with the cloth measuring tape and blinked at the word patrolling.

Ebel softly recounted the past. “My father—he’s no longer with us, but he used to speak of his love for this neighborhood.”

That had to be the previous Count Mateus—Ebel’s father, who was renowned for his love of antiques.

“He used to look forward to slipping out of the house during his breaks from work to shop in this district. He told me how he even enjoyed the disorder here, despite the ill-bred scoundrels inhabiting it.” Ebel lowered his golden eyes. “The werewolf power is the greatest fortune Father left me. I am making use of it to patrol this area. I plan to forever protect this part of the city Father so dearly loved.” The corners of his lips lifted into a bashful smile. “With a great shop like this around, I think I’ll come to love it here too.”

Curiously enough, Rock sympathized with him at that moment. Perhaps because neither of them had fathers. Or perhaps it was because they both actively made use of the inheritance left to them by their fathers. Ebel didn’t seem ashamed or disgusted by his werewolf side. That, too, mirrored Rock’s own feelings about pretending to be a man.

This was the third year since she set up shop in the slums. She always thought she was proud of her work, but this was the first time anyone called her business “a great shop.”

The warmth spreading through her chest might’ve been caused by those three words. Before she knew it, Rock found herself captivated by the handsome man standing before her. And Ebel, with butterflies in his stomach from her strong gaze, bashfully brought her attention back to the task at hand.

“Are you done taking measurements, Rock?”

“Ah! …I am done measuring your human form, Your Excellency. Your werewolf form is all that’s left.”

“All right. Wait just a moment, then,” Ebel said as he pulled off his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body in a matter of seconds. His hand went to his trouser buckle next—

“P-Please stop right there, Your Excellency!” Rock rushed to stop him. “Why are you undressing?!”

“Why? Naturally, because my clothes will rip if I become a werewolf while dressed.”

“Th-Then give me a chance to leave first!” Rock bolted from the fitting room like a panicked deer from a wolf, and she shut the curtain with her hand behind her back.

“Why are you flustered? Are we not both men?”

Rock was about to argue with the dubious voice coming from inside the fitting room, but the uncanny sound of bone crackling and flesh tearing grew louder behind the curtain, cutting off her response. Large, triangle-shaped ears cast a shadow on the curtain, and then came the sound of the stealthy shuffle of a large beast’s feet.

“…I’m finished, Rock. Please continue with this form.” Ebel’s deeper voice beckoned Rock back into the fitting room.

What in the world was the story with his body? A young man with an average physique had transformed into a werewolf in less than a minute.

In all her years making a living as a tailor, this was Rock’s first time measuring a customer more urban legend than human.

“You are truly giving me an experience few people will ever come by, Your Excellency.” Rock held each end of the measuring tape with her fingers and took down werewolf Ebel’s measurements.

Thicker fur covered the scruff of his neck, his chest and shoulders curved with strong muscles, and his long legs and arms were thick and solid like logs. Ebel silently looked down and watched as Rock’s slender fingertips slowly followed the outline of his form. His golden eyes flashed meaningfully every time the measuring tape pressed against his body and whenever her fingers brushed along his fur.

“There’s one thing that has been on my mind,” Ebel brought up once Rock finished measuring his werewolf form.

“What is that?” Rock asked, the measuring tape hanging around her neck. Suddenly, the werewolf’s ponderous hand seized Rock’s wrist. He held on tight enough that she couldn’t shake him off, while being careful not to let his black claws touch her delicate skin.

“What is the meaning of this, Your Excellency?” Rock raised her voice in protest.

The penetrating gaze of the werewolf’s golden eyes probed her. “You smell like a woman.” As his big mouth moved, it revealed all of his sharp fangs.

Rock freaked out internally. Driven by the uneasiness of her slender wrist—unhidden by her male disguise—being on display, she countered him in the calmest voice she could muster. “Isn’t that a…misconception on your part, Your Excellency? I’m a man, I’m afraid.”

“I’m confident in my nose. I know this is a woman’s scent.” Ebel twitched his wetly shimmering black nose.

Did he figure it out because of his sharper senses as a supernatural being?

Rock picked her words carefully as she tried to mislead him. “Female customers often frequent my shop, and one of my shop assistants is a woman. Is it not them you smell?”

“Are you in an intimate relationship with that woman?” A hint of jealousy flared in the wolf’s eyes. “The smell is ingrained in your very body. I take it you are physically involved with a woman, then?”

He has a keen eye—or rather, a keen nose.

Ebel was in the midst of seeing right through to Rock’s true identity. His fixation was obvious from the way he didn’t let go of her wrist during the whole conversation, and Rock sensed she was in danger. It was exactly because customers like this were a dime a dozen in the slums that she had donned a male guise until now. Learning that Count Mateus, who seemed like a gentleman at first, was the same breed of man as the rest was positively disappointing.

“Your Excellency, do you make a habit of hitting on men?” Rock asked in a blunt refusal of his advances.

Ebel gasped as if snapped out of a dream. The ardent flame ablaze in his eyes sputtered, and he slowly let go of Rock’s wrist. “…I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” He slumped with his triangular ears pressed flat back against his head and his tail curled between his legs. “I know it sounds strange, but I just had to know— Nay, whatever my reasoning, it was still impolite. I sincerely feel sorry for my actions.”

If Ebel was telling the truth, then what just happened was nothing more than a temporary lapse in judgment.

It’d be unfortunate if he, of all people, desired a poor young woman who disguised herself as a man. Rock tried to laugh it off, but her nerves stiffened her face, hindering any attempts at a smile. She would’ve had an easier time rejecting him if he were vulgar like the rest of her customers from the slums.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Your Excellency. I’m not bothered by it.” Rock schooled her features and managed to shake her head.

Thoroughly crestfallen like a puppy in the rain, Ebel let out a short sigh. “Thank you for saying so.”

After that, Rock calculated the invoice as if nothing had happened, and Ebel paid a sum several times larger than her asking price.

However, nothing could be done about the uncomfortable mood between them, and the wrist that Ebel had grabbed burned with an indescribable heat for a long time afterward.

♚♚♚

IN any event, Rock tailored the werewolf count’s clothing in five days. Then she sent a messenger to Ebel’s manor to inform him that his order was ready, to which he replied he’d immediately come to retrieve them.

Rock sent Phoebe home early again on the day Ebel was scheduled to arrive.

“Is it just me or are you hiding a lot from me lately? Introduce me if you’ve got yourself a man.” Phoebe tried to pry more information out of Rock, but she left the store without much fuss this time.

The dapper gent with burnt sienna hair appeared right after her departure.

“Sorry about the other day, Rock.” The moment Ebel saw Rock, he apologized for his rude behavior. However, unlike when he was a werewolf, his expression this time was awfully bright and cheery.

“Don’t be… I stopped minding already,” Rock answered with a superficial smile, hiding the fact that she hadn’t slept well the past few days because of him. Even if he saw through her exhaustion, she could just chalk it up to being busy with work.

In any case, they moved on to talking about the job instead.

She handed Ebel the shirt, vest, and trousers she had finished sewing. He gingerly spread out each piece of clothing and meticulously examined every inch. After confirming the finishing details on every stitch, hook, and the sash belt, he exhaled deeply.

“Your masterful skill impresses me every time. You’re impressive for one so young, Rock.”

“You honor me with your compliments, Your Excellency.”

“Do you have any interest in becoming my exclusive tailor outright?” Ebel placed his hands on the counter and leaned toward Rock, who was standing on the opposite side. “I want to hire you to live and work in my manor. Naturally, I will pay you wages corresponding to your excellent skills. I will also prepare a room for you to live in and assign you a maid.”

If she considered only the money and nothing else, that was an extremely attractive offer. But Rock laughed off the count’s invitation.

“I am afraid your offer is wasted on me. I have this shop to tend to, after all.”

Rock cared more for this clothing shop, established with the money her father left for her, than her own life. She didn’t want to walk away from it—no matter the opportunities elsewhere.

And aside from that, she had a hunch that getting further involved with the young count would not be good for her. She couldn’t shake the feeling he’d easily unravel all the things she had obstinately held to until now.

“…That’s most unfortunate.” Ebel stared regretfully at Rock’s imperturbable smile. But he quickly recovered and took the chance to hold her hand. “Allow me to alter my invitation, then.” The young man’s large hand wrapped around Rock’s dainty one calloused from working with needles all day. “The other day you asked me if I make a habit of hitting on men, yes?” Ebel asked the frozen Rock with a dashing smile.

“Y-Yes…I guess I did.”

“I thought it over and came to the conclusion that I’ve always been different. It’s foolish for me to get hung up over my partner’s gender.”

“…Pardon me?” Rock’s voice cracked.

Ebel paid it no heed, continuing his wooing with his golden eyes glittering. “Rock, I fell for you. I don’t care if you are a man—let me court you.”

“Y-You jest!” The color drained from Rock’s face at this unexpected love confession.

She had gone to great lengths to disguise herself precisely to avoid these situations, but he just obliterated the whole point of pretending to be a man. He eliminated the ability to use her gender as a reason to turn him down.

Meanwhile, Ebel’s heart-stopping golden eyes were watching her. Between the twinkle in his eyes and the smile dimpling his handsome face, his high spirits made it easy to imagine his werewolf tail wagging—Rock carelessly found herself captivated by his face too.

“I KNEW IT! Rock, you brought a man home with you!” Phoebe, who Rock thought had gone home, barged into the shop as if she were waiting for this moment. She scowled at the man holding Rock’s hand until she saw his face, and her eyes bulged. “Count Mateus!”

“Indeed, I am Ebel Mateus,” the count said, introducing himself while still firmly holding Rock’s hand. Then he asked, “Who is this lady—nay, gentleman? They appear to be a lady at least— Anyway, who is this?”

“M-My shop assistant, Phoebe,” Rock answered politely. And then she candidly turned to Phoebe for help. “Phoebe! What should I do?! His Excellency is trying to woo me!”

“Woo you? …Your Excellency, you are aware this child is a young man, despite his looks, I hope?”

“Of course. I am wooing him with that knowledge,” Ebel affirmed unwaveringly. “I care not whether Rock is a man or a woman.”

“…Uh-huh. Well, if you think you can win him over, why don’t you just go ahead and try?” Phoebe drawled, sounding exasperated, and headed for the door.

“Hello?! Phoebe?! Aren’t you going to save me?” Rock cried out, earning a shrug from Phoebe.

“Do something about it yourself. He’s not the first customer to put the moves on you.”

“What…?” Ebel gawked at Rock. Phoebe’s comment apparently had the unintended consequence of lighting a fire inside him. Flames of jealousy blazing in his golden eyes, he importuned Rock. “The possibility of others trying to seduce you hadn’t even crossed my mind… Please, Rock, choose me!”

“Uh, simmer down, Your Excellency! You’re putting me on the spot!”

♚♚♚

BY all appearances, His Excellency the Count was serious about Rock. Phoebe could tell by the look in his eyes. Now how was the trickster tailor going to respond to his feelings?

“…A count, eh? If things go well, she’ll marry into the purple,” Phoebe muttered to herself after retreating outside the shop alone. She spied on the couple inside.

Ebel was insistently closing the distance between himself and Rock, while she turned bright red at his pursuit. She was an innocent girl, completely ignorant of all things related to love.

“That’s why I told her to disguise herself as a man.”

Phoebe was worried sick about Rock’s defenselessness. She had offered on multiple occasions to teach Rock how to handle men but was always gently turned down.

“In any case, I have to help that child find happiness,” Phoebe quietly muttered, taking advantage of the deserted street to voice aloud her thoughts.

The count appeared to have fallen for Rock regardless of her gender. That would be splendid if it was the truth, but Phoebe couldn’t shake the possibility this was just a temporary fancy for the toff.

Making sure of his feelings might be a part of my job too, Phoebe thought with a sigh.

“Count Mateus, I’m going to see just how good of a match you are for our daughter.”

That whisper reached no one’s ears but the street cats’.

Phoebe returned to the shop wearing the usual expression of a beautiful woman.

The werewolf count and tailor Rock weren’t the only ones living double lives in the imperial capital.