♚Chapter 5: My Beloved Lady Floria

 

 

 

♚Chapter 5: My Beloved Lady Floria

 

A soft tickle on Rock’s cheek roused her from slumber. Something warm and fluffy surrounded her on all sides. She found herself in the most comfortable bed protecting her from the depressing dawn chill.

“Mnn…” Questioning why she was in a bed that wasn’t her own, she slowly opened her eyes. A wolf’s face burst into view. Her gaze trailed over the triangular ears, glowing gold eyes, black, wet nose, and large mouth packed with spiky fangs.

The beast’s mouth snapped open and spoke to a dazed Rock. “Morning, Rock. Looks like you slept soundly.”

Of all the things she could’ve used for a bed, it had to be a werewolf’s enormous body. “G-Good, morning, Ebel.” She hurried to her feet. Ebel yawned dynamically, his large mouth opening wider than possible for a human.

“Your sleeping face was most adorable. I would have enjoyed it more if not for this body…”

The memory of what occurred last night replayed vividly in her mind. She’d intended to stay with Ebel until he fell asleep, to comfort him when he was on the brink of utter despair, but she ended up falling asleep before him. Having her sleeping face seen was embarrassing enough, but it paled in comparison to sleeping like a log in the midst of a crisis.

The day broke and morning light shone into Rock’s small room, but Ebel’s body remained in the same form.

“You still can’t change back?” Rock asked straightaway.

Ebel gravely affirmed, “Sadly, yes. Your theory is seeming likelier by the minute.”

They had no proof a cursed werewolf statue was stashed in the antique shop downstairs, but they needed to make sure of it.

“Then I will head over to the shop as soon as it opens.” Ebel couldn’t go anywhere until she solved this problem. Fresh resolve blossomed in her chest.

“Please do. You are my only hope right now,” he said, his golden eyes fondly taking in every detail of her morning appearance. He swallowed audibly. “I thought this last night, too, but your nightclothes are truly…tempting.”

The werewolf’s eyes were keenly riveted on her disheveled nightclothes, particularly her corsetless chest and her shins exposed beneath the hem. Flustered, Rock hid her chest under her crossed arms.

“Ah! I-I will go change!” She bolted to the other side of the thin partition. She whipped around to face the cloth and viciously warned the werewolf resting his muzzle on his paws on the floor, “Don’t look this way!”

“I’ll use discretion,” he answered nonchalantly.

Trying not to think about how far his discretion allowed him to see, Rock doffed her nightclothes, pulled on her corset, and returned to her usual work attire.

Then she set about making breakfast for two. Intelligently perceiving a werewolf couldn’t eat properly with his wolf paws, Rock prepared a wheat porridge he could eat with one spoon. Using a large wooden ladle, Ebel ate the sticky porridge filled with pickled white olives.

“I’ve never eaten such delectable wheat porridge before. Your hands work wonders with food and clothes.”

“It’s not much, but I am glad it suits your tastes.” Genuine relief settled over Rock at his praise. She’d been nervous because this was her first time serving food to someone other than Phoebe.

After sharing an enjoyable breakfast together, Ebel wistfully asked her, “Do you have the clothes I ripped last night?”

“Yes, right here.” Rock pointed to the pile of shredded cloth that had once been clothing. His ears drooped against his head, showing his depression in a way only a wolf could.

“I’ve ruined yet another outfit you made for me…”

“You didn’t do it by choice. Don’t feel bad.”

“I can’t do that, but taking care of urgent matters comes first.” Ebel fished his unscathed leather wallet from the scrap pile. He handed it over to her without checking the contents. “I want you to use this to retrieve the statue.”

The weight of the wallet felt like a ton of bricks. She opened it and looked inside to find it packed with gold coins. “Th-This much? You aren’t telling me to use all of it, are you?”

The picture of calm, Ebel watched Rock sputter with her commoner sensibilities. “I don’t mind if you use it all. Better that than someone else getting their hands on that abomination.”

From Ebel’s viewpoint, retrieving the statue at all costs was top priority. But dangling a full wallet in front of an old woman who had been doing business in the slums for decades would only get the sharp-eyed crone to jack up the price.

“I will do my best to retrieve it at the cheapest price,” Rock said, stashing the heavy wallet in her pocket.

His eyes rounded. “You’re confident you can get it cheap?”

“I do run a business in these parts,” she said with a sly grin.

It was time for the trickster tailor to show off her skills.

♚♚♚

A business-savvy woman named Selina Trilian owned the antique shop downstairs. Still vigorous past her seventy-something years, she was rumored to be single only because no man was a match for her beauty. Word on the street said foolish mercenaries who tried to get into her good graces by calling her “Madam Trilian” were chased out of the shop by a stream of creative blue language.

As her tenant, Rock had never offended the older woman, but she still received the cold shoulder every day except for when she paid rent.

“Good morning, Lady Trilian,” Rock said in greeting upon entering the shop. She referred to the woman, who was not actually a noble, that way because of what Phoebe once told her: “Calling the old crone that pleases her more than anything else.”

Lady Trilian didn’t lift her face from her open ledger, nor did she return the greeting. Used to it by now, Rock said what she knew would most interest her. “I came as a customer today. May I take a look around?”

“…A customer?” Lady Trilian said, deigning to speak to Rock for the first time. Scowling with her beautiful face of yore concealed beneath layers of wrinkles, she glared at her with sunken eyes. “This is the first you’ve come as a customer.”

Never having been inside before, Rock thoroughly took in every corner of the shop. Curios and antiques collected from who knows where crowded the small shop reeking of mildew. Old relics that collectors supposedly found irresistible—such as cracked agate vases, crystal balls resting on velvet pedestals, hourglasses filled with purple sand behind their cloudy glass, and scales with intricate carvings extending to its weights—filled dusty shelves.

“What are you searching for, laddie?”

Rock strained a smile at her term of address. “Do you have any statues found in the ruins? One the size of your palm.” She asked her directly about it. Negotiations couldn’t start without finding it first.

Lady Trilian cocked an ashen eyebrow. “I have lots of those. Can you be more specific?”

“It’s a statue of a wolf baring its fangs. Supposedly made out of white limestone,” Rock said, relaying the information she had received from Ebel beforehand.

The old woman snorted. “News reaches you quick, laddie. Didn’t think you’d be after that too.”

“You have one?”

“Boy, do I have one. But I ain’t selling it to a pauper.” Her sunken old eyes glinted with her appraisal of Rock. “I heard one of those fetch a hefty price. Aren’t you looking for one because you found that out too?”

Others were searching for cursed statues, and it sounded as if there was more than one out there. The person looking was willing to spend a large sum, but it couldn’t be Ebel, since he hadn’t found more than the one that cursed him. And he didn’t allude to having connections to someone who could find them.

Then who else out there wanted one so badly they offered a bounty?

“Who do you plan to sell it to, Lady Trilian?” Rock frankly inquired.

From what she’d heard, it didn’t sound like a tasteful statue anyone other than someone with peculiar tastes would willingly collect. Nothing was more dangerous than someone procuring it without knowing about the curse—except maybe, someone who was after it for the curse.

“The highest bidder.” Lady Trilian’s answer was plain and simple.

“It’s not just one person after it?”

Her additional question silenced the older woman, who turned suspicious eyes on Rock. “What about you, laddie? Ain’t you searching for it because you have a buyer?” she probed.

After a moment of hesitation, Rock answered honestly. “I’m not searching for it because I want to sell it off. I’ve come representing someone who wants it destroyed.”

“They want it destroyed?”

“You didn’t know? That statue is cursed.” Rock deliberately lowered her voice to an eerie whisper.

The other woman snorted again. “You’re wasting your breath trying to scare me, laddie. I ain’t selling to you.”

“I’m not kidding. It’s a curse that turns people into werewolves. You should know the statue looks like a wolf, if you have it.” Rock took her intimidation a step further. “Carelessly unleashing the curse will transform you from beautiful human to hairy wolf. Pointy ears will burst from the top of your head, your eyes will turn into glowing slits, your nose will stretch out, and your mouth will split open and fill with gnarly fangs. Your arms and legs will become thicker than oak logs, and fur will sprout all over your hunched-over body.”

After all, Rock had seen a werewolf before coming downstairs. Her poignantly delivered description spooked Lady Trilian into wringing her wrinkled hands.

“Did you say werewolf? You say it like you’ve seen one.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about them prowling these parts. I’ve actually seen a cursed person. Pitiful creature.” The landlady had no way of knowing that the werewolf Rock spoke of was currently staying in her room upstairs. “That’s why it must be destroyed. Sell it to me, Lady Trilian.”

The shrewd landlady gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “You want me to give you a bargain with that tall tale? I didn’t think I was renting to an idiot.”

“I’m not looking for a bargain. I’ll pay you a pretty chunk of coin.”

“Try me.”

“How’s ten gold coins?” Rock started low, and sure enough, Lady Trilian turned away from her and pointed a crooked finger to the door.

“Go home.”

Naturally, Rock was only getting started. “How about fifteen?”

“Child’s play.”

“What about twenty?”

“Not even close.”

She showed no signs of agreeing even after increasing the amount.

“But won’t you have to find another buyer if I go home now? I doubt you can find someone who wants a cursed statue so soon. Will you be okay in the meanwhile? You won’t accidentally get yourself cursed?” Rock tried the intimidation angle again, since it seemed to get her results faster.

Lady Trilian’s mouth twitched. “Again with the curse… Werewolves ain’t nothing more than street rumors. They don’t really exist.”

“They do exist.” Rock wiped the smile from her face and dropped her voice as low as possible to add extra emphasis. “I was bitten by one. A werewolf lunged at me, knocking me onto the ground, where it took a bite out of me with its gaping wide mouth. Its row of sharp fangs sunk into me from here to here.”

She showed off the werewolf’s big mouth size by running her fingertip along her shoulder. She never thought she would speak of the time Ebel “kissed” her as a real encounter with a werewolf.

“Werewolves exist. People wouldn’t talk about them if they didn’t.” Rock looked straight into Lady Trilian’s eyes and doubled down. “I don’t know what the other buyers are after. But, Lady Trilian, you will be in danger if you hold on to this cursed monstrosity.”

The much older woman realized the truth in those words and shuddered.

“My job is to deliver that statue to the one who will destroy it. If you sell it to me, you don’t have to worry about being cursed and will have a stack of gold coins in your hand right now. How about it?”

Rock’s extra push helped Lady Trilian make up her mind. “I did think it was an uncanny statue. I couldn’t shake the feeling it was watching me,” she muttered as if she sensed the danger in her very bones. Proud woman that she was, she tossed on, “But I’m only selling for thirty gold. Cursed or not, it has that much market value…”

“Sure. I can do thirty,” Rock answered, as if it were a done deal.

The old woman brought the statue out from the back of the store and placed it on the counter. Rock pulled thirty gold coins from Ebel’s wallet, thoroughly counted them, and handed over the amount.

Lady Trilian screwed up her face when she saw that wallet still bulging with coins. “Couldn’t you have paid more, laddie?”

“It’s not my money. I can’t spend it excessively.”

Thus, Rock obtained the cursed wolf statue. Made of white limestone, it was indeed shaped to look like a werewolf baring its fangs. Though the artist had used a simple carving method, the sculpture perfectly captured the werewolf’s image. Just as Lady Trilian had said, there was something uncanny about it, and it seemed to be silently staring at Rock now that she held it.

Not wanting to look at its face, she quickly pocketed the palm-sized statue.

Meanwhile, Lady Trilian seemed to regret her decision the moment she let go of the statue. “That curse better be real. I’ll chase you out of the building if you made it up.”

Rock answered her greedy glare with a wooden smile. “Would you like me to prove it? How about we unleash the curse right here—”

“Don’t even joke about it!” The older woman vigorously shook her head, although she still seemed unconvinced. “You’re coming to resemble that man even more. The way you smooth talk me right out of my money is exactly the same.”

“What man?” she asked, having no idea who she could be referring to.

Lady Trilian frowned. “The man you call Phoebe.”

Rock never thought of Phoebe as a man and corrected the other woman with a smile. “You shouldn’t refer to her like that.”

“As if I care. He used to be the handsomest man around. Wonder what made him lose his mind.” An echo of disappointment and attachment clung to her grumbling.

Curiosity sparked, Rock inquired further before she left. “Say, Phoebe used to be a mercenary, right?”

Lady Trilian waved her hands as if shooing out a dog. “Out with you. Before I change my mind.”

“Just answer me this. Did Phoebe used to be your valued client?”

“Yeah, he was. He was a much stronger, better man than you,” Lady Trilian snapped. Then she sighed. “Train a little and become my kind of man. I’ll dote on you.”

That made it sound as if she used to dote on Phoebe. Rock instinctively took a step back from the flirtatious glance sent her way by those sunken eyes.

“I-I’m happy the way things are now!” She fled as fast as she could from the antique shop.

The next place she headed was her own store on Market Street. She needed to hide the statue somewhere. Nowhere was safer at the moment than her shop’s safe. While she was there, she grabbed a new pair of clothes in case Ebel returned to normal.

♚♚♚

AFTER taking care of business at her store, Rock retraced her steps with Ebel’s change of clothes. As she neared the staircase, Lady Trilian burst out of the antique shop.

“Hey, what’s with all the racket, laddie?!”

“What racket?” Rock stopped, and the older woman marched over to her with a glare that would make pickpockets think twice.

“Coming from your room! Damn noise is ruining my morning!”

Only Ebel should be in her room. She doubted he’d make a ton of noise alone. But Lady Trilian seethed with frustration that had nothing to do with Rock making off with her statue.

“I’ve just returned from my shop,” Rock said truthfully.

“Then that man must’ve barged in while you were away.”

Rock couldn’t overlook that possibility. “That man—you mean Phoebe?!”

“What other man is there? I’ll triple your rent next month if you’re too lo— Hey, laddie! I’m not done talking to you!”

Rock shook off Lady Trilian and dashed up the stairs to her room.

She had forgotten a critical fact. As her guardian, Phoebe helped Rock rent this room and owned a spare key. She usually used that key to drop off food and soap, make meals for Rock when she was busy at work, and come to take care of her when she fell ill. To Rock, Phoebe was her sole relative, whose unannounced visits she always welcomed.

Just not this morning. After all, His Excellency the Werewolf Count was in her room. Retired mercenary or not, there was no way Phoebe could remain calm after discovering a werewolf instead of Rock in her room. Rock couldn’t discount her lunging at the werewolf with her stashed dagger.

“Phoebe!” Rock tumbled into her room, where an unexpected scene was unfolding.

First, Phoebe was there. Anger splotched her beautiful face crimson, her chestnut curls were a mess of knots, and she was panting so heavy her teeth were visible in her open mouth. Both of her open hands were flying to grab Ebel, who was sitting on the chaise.

Meanwhile, Ebel appeared as a perfectly handsome young count with burnt sienna hair and a chiseled, furless face. From the looks of it, he’d safely reverted back to being a man and now sat with his naked chest exposed to the cool morning air, a blanket wrapped around his waist to conceal what was below. Distress glimmered in the eyes he looked up at Phoebe with, but his expression relaxed upon noticing Rock first.

“Oh, Rock. You came back at a good time.”

Phoebe whipped around with a disconsolate look. “Rock, don’t tell me you and this man…!”

Rock didn’t have any interest in romantic relationships, but she knew what was being misconstrued right now. Things were different from the situation she had feared, but this was almost as serious.

A basket filled with cheese and apples sat on top of the dining table, and Rock figured Phoebe had come to deliver this to her. Ebel had definitely pretended not to be there when she knocked on the door, which led to her using the spare key to drop off the food. Rock didn’t need to use her imagination to guess what chaos ensued.

“I-It’s not what you think, Phoebe. There’s a reason for this!” She was trying her best to explain through her panic, when Phoebe briskly stomped over to her and seized her slender wrists.

Phoebe peered into her eyes and bluntly scolded, “Why don’t you value yourself more?!”

“Wh-What…?”

“A man who lays his hands on a woman before marriage is the scum of the planet!” Furious beyond fury, Phoebe’s hands trembled when she placed them on Rock’s shoulders.

Feeling pinned down by those flaring blue eyes, Rock timorously argued, “I-I told you that’s not what happened. He didn’t touch me…”

“Then why is His Excellency here at dawn?!”

“W-We ran into some trouble last night, and I had him stay the night. But nothing happened between us!”

She wasn’t lying—for the most part.

Honing in on Rock’s hesitation, Phoebe growled, “You say nothing happened when His Excellency is naked from head to toe…?”

“No, well, that is, um…”

It certainly was an unreasonable explanation. He hadn’t been naked before Rock left the room—well, to be precise, fur had covered his naked body. Now that the fur had disappeared, Ebel’s appearance was an open invitation for misunderstandings.

“I’ve been trying to explain the same thing since before you arrived, to no avail,” Ebel chimed in when Rock was at her wit’s end.

Phoebe spun toward him and flayed him with a glare capable of cutting through steel. “SILENCE! Who’d believe the explanation of a man sitting butt naked in another’s room?!”

It was Rock, not Ebel, who was overwhelmed by the fury she’d thought Phoebe incapable of. Things were only going to grow markedly worse if left to run their course.

Knowing she had to say something, she weakly asserted, “He has good reason to be naked. See that? His clothes ripped.” She pointed to the pile of scraps that had once been Ebel’s clothes in the corner.

Phoebe took a cursory glance at it and scowled with mounting suspicion. “What in the blue blazes must be done to turn good clothes into that?”

“Um, I can’t…”

I can’t tell you that, she finished in her thoughts. After all, Ebel’s secret hung in the balance. Not to mention Phoebe was about as likely to believe that story as the truth. Even Rock had thought of werewolves as little more than ghost stories until that night Ebel showed up in her shop and she saw one with her own two eyes.

Ebel couldn’t just leave Rock hanging. “…Rock,” he started, speaking with a calm that belied his nakedness, “You trust Phoebe, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, I do…,” Rock said hesitantly, affirming his abrupt question.

Rock knew Phoebe’s anger stemmed from worry and concern for her. She also knew how much Phoebe cared for her on a daily basis, so her furor made sense. That was exactly why Rock wanted to clear up this misunderstanding, as much for Phoebe as for herself.

“Phoebe is just worried about me. I’m sorry for causing a scene, Ebel.”

Phoebe snorted.

Ebel gave an understanding smile. “It’s a reasonable misunderstanding. I believe revealing the truth to her is the best way to clear the air. What do you think?”

“You can’t be serious, Ebel!” Rock said in panic, but Ebel overflowed with the confidence to do whatever it took to break the deadlock. He didn’t have an ounce of hesitation. So Rock faced Phoebe and tried to get her to understand. “P-Phoebe, I want you to listen to me without freaking out…”

Phoebe took that as the opening to a completely different reveal, and the column of her throat moved. “Wh-What is it? Let me be clear: I absolutely won’t accept His Excellency until he says he will officially marry you. If you don’t get a proper pledge down on paper, he’ll run off saying you should be honored he touched you at all—”

“Not that!”

Unconcerned with their argument, Ebel rose slowly from the chaise.

Before the blanket concealing his waist hit the floor, the young count’s sinewy limbs were covered with jet-black fur and swelled to increase their mass. His burnt sienna hair and handsome face transformed as if swallowed whole by the wave of rippling fur, and in the second Rock blinked, a puissant werewolf appeared.

“Can I convince you with this appearance, Phoebe?” he asked in a soft, gentle rumbling voice that was hard to believe came from the gaping maw of bladelike incisors and canines.

Phoebe gasped. “What devilry is this?!” she howled, hiding Rock behind her and kicking up the hem of her dress. She drew a dagger from the scabbard in her leather boot and used a defensive forward grip on it. “What are you?”

“I’m a werewolf, Phoebe.” Even with the dagger pointed at him, Ebel was imperturbable. His golden eyes, the only part of him that stayed the same between forms, assessed her. “I gained the power to transform into a werewolf from a curse cast on me by one of the Werewolf Brotherhood statues my father collected.”

“Did you say…a werewolf statue…?” Phoebe was noticeably shaken.

“I did.” Ebel nodded his canine head and bared his teeth in a slightly wolfish smile. “I met Rock while wandering the streets in this form. Like now, I had torn my clothes and had nothing to wear if I wanted to change back. That was when I discovered the tailor sign and hesitantly went inside.” Fondness softened the edges around his golden eyes as he looked over Phoebe at Rock. “Rock was terribly kind to me, selling clothes to a broke monster. I’ve lost my heart to him ever since that fateful encounter.”

For the most part, that matched Rock’s memory, though she wasn’t confident she was “kind” during her first werewolf encounter.

Still wielding the dagger, Phoebe snarled with distrust. “Lies.”

“I swear to God I am not lying. As far as this conversation goes, I have not told a single lie,” Ebel declared.

After several hesitant seconds, Phoebe looked over her shoulder. Rock promptly reassured her. “It’s true. Ebel’s a werewolf, but he’s not scary, and he doesn’t eat people.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Phoebe’s grimace made Ebel quietly shake his head. “I promise I have not laid my hands on your precious young one.”

Phoebe shot him a spiteful glare and sheathed her dagger. Smoothing her skirts over her weapon-filled boots, she heaved a sigh. “I’ve got the gist of the situation. His Excellency turned into a werewolf and had to stay the night because he had no clothes. That about right?”

“Yes! That’s absolutely right, Phoebe!” Relief washed over Rock now that she’d conveyed what she was trying to explain.

Phoebe, on the other hand, was far from relieved as she turned tired eyes on Ebel. “But clearly you can become a werewolf at will if your transformation just now is anything to go by. Care to tell me why you transformed so your clothes ripped off in front of Rock?”

“You’re as sharp as I’d expect,” Ebel said, complimenting Phoebe before rolling his furry shoulders. He directed his next question to Rock. “Rock, did the shop downstairs have the statue?”

“Yes. I used a chunk of money to safely retrieve it.”

“Good job. Thank you.”

“I locked the statue in my shop’s safe.”

“I will send an envoy to pick it up later. I’m sincerely grateful to you.” Satisfied by her answers, he returned the conversation to a scowling Phoebe. “I’ll fill you in on this as well. It appears the statue that cursed me isn’t the only one of its kind.”

Phoebe said nothing. Rock craned her neck to get a better view of her grim profile.

“The worst discovery was that I can’t control my powers with one nearby. Last night I transformed into the werewolf against my will. All because one of those statues was stored in the antique shop downstairs.”

“Lady Trilian’s shop. A believable story,” Phoebe drawled in a low voice, looking Ebel square in the eyes. He accepted that stony gaze and slowly batted his lashes.

“I believe you have seen that statue before, Phoebe.”

That was a shocking declaration. Rock confronted her: “Is that true, Phoebe?”

Phoebe pressed her lips together and hesitated for a short while. During that time, her eyes never left the werewolf, her back protected Rock, and there was a deliberate evenness to each breath she took.

“…It is.” After several minutes of tense air, she finally acknowledged it. “After all, that statue—at least, the one brought into Mateus Manor—was discovered by Fredericks Berwick.”

Slapped with an even more startling revelation, Rock’s eyes bulged. “By Father?”

The statue her mercenary father found during his ruin-scavenging quests had cursed Ebel. She couldn’t accept that painful truth right away. The curse isn’t Father’s fault. How she wanted to believe that.

“Rock, it’s not your father’s fault,” Ebel said, sensing her inner turmoil. “It was my father who unleashed the curse. This would have never happened if he hadn’t tried it out of curiosity. All the responsibility falls on us. You and your father had nothing to do with it.”

So he said, but she didn’t think that way. Rather, even her meeting him was starting to feel like the curse’s work.

“If Father hadn’t found it, you—”

“That’s not true.” Ebel spoke over her with a shake of his head. “Another mercenary would have found it if he had not.”

“You…think so? But…”

The gentlest voice assuaged her doubts. “I hope you can think of this as fate. Believe that you and I met because we were supposed to.”

Phoebe stayed silent throughout it all. Watching to see how Ebel handled this, she didn’t look away from him for one second.

“You call this fate…?” Rock repeated in a hesitant manner.

She thought it too cruel for Ebel’s curse to be predestined. He had lost more than one or two things from being cursed.

But werewolf Ebel tenderly persuaded her. “The curse I suffered that day became the opportunity to fall in love with you. I can finally come to accept it.”

“W-We have not fallen in love!” Rock rushed to deny. She couldn’t help being embarrassed by that talk in front of Phoebe. Then a sudden thought occurred to her. “You said you were going around talking to mercenaries. Were you searching for the one who found the statue?”

He’d told her he met with several dozen mercenaries and former mercenaries to ask them questions. Along the way, he asked about her father, Fredericks. Perhaps Ebel’s goals had been aligned with hers all along.

“I was,” Ebel confirmed, as she suspected. “To make sure there were no more statues out there. I was looking for the mercenary to locate the statues, if any others existed, so I could destroy them before the curse was released again.” Those golden wolf eyes swung over to the stone-quiet Phoebe. “I’ve had a hunch there were more for a while now, and today proved that hunch correct.”

“I didn’t know that…” Rock unconsciously sighed aloud.

The mercenary Ebel was searching for, Rock’s father, was no longer of this world. He could’ve questioned him in-depth about the statue if he were still around. He might’ve obtained all the information he needed to put an end to the statues.

“If only my father were still alive,” she said in a ghost of a whisper, indescribable sorrow breaking her heart. She just thought the same thing she wished so many other times. If only her father were around.

“If only. I’ve longed to meet him all this time too,” Ebel agreed, never taking his eyes off Phoebe.

Following his gaze, Rock looked up at Phoebe and urged her for more information. “Say, Phoebe, did you ever hear anything about it? Father must have said something to you if he showed you the statue—”

Up until that moment, Phoebe had had her eyes locked on the werewolf, her mouth set in a hard line. Rock’s comment brought a partial smile to her face, and she plopped her hand on top of Rock’s head to stop her from saying any more.

“Phoebe?”

Phoebe glared again at Ebel, leaving Rock to muddle through why she touched her instead of answering. “I only found one statue,” she answered fluidly, never easing up on her glower. “That was the only thing of value in that ruin. I heard the Brotherhood used that spot as a secret base. Their headquarters are likely somewhere else.”

“…Is that what Sir Fredericks told you?”

Phoebe clicked her tongue and stuck her chin out. “That’s right.”

“I appreciate your cooperation, Phoebe.” The werewolf dropped into a courteous bow.

Annoyed by him in every way, Phoebe roughly ran her hands through her chestnut curls. “So? What are you planning to do, Your Excellency?”

“Continue searching for the statues, of course. I’ll destroy them upon discovery. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” she sharply retorted.

The werewolf face didn’t shift into any kind of readable expression, but Rock heard the faint exhale. “Aside from that… Oh, yes,” he continued with an excited bounce in his voice, “I want your permission to continue seeing Rock after this. I’m content with that for now.”

“…Huh?” Rock squeaked dumbly, not following the sudden change in topic.

Phoebe clenched her skirts and flashed her teeth menacingly at him. “For now? You think you have the upper hand now?”

“Please don’t misunderstand me, Phoebe.” Ebel shook his head, full of composure. “My feelings are sincere. I won’t use blackmail.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Of course. Anyone who’s special to Rock is special to me too.”

“…Hmph.”

Ebel and Phoebe weren’t using complex terminology, but Rock didn’t have a clue what they were referring to. What upper hand? Lots of unfriendly words like blackmail and trust were being thrown around.

“I’ll eventually be coming to you to ask for Rock’s hand in marriage. I have to look out for you.”

Phoebe and Rock jumped at the same time.

“Marriage?!”

“M-Marriage?!”

The werewolf’s furry shoulders shook with mirth at their similar surprised reactions. “You were perfectly in sync. You’re a lovely pair.” Laughing, he joyfully added, “I’m grateful for this fate. I sincerely hope you both feel that way too.”

♚♚♚

HUMAN Ebel went home after accepting the change of clothes from Rock. Obviously he didn’t go home in silence—he secured a promise for another visit and didn’t forget to land a kiss on the back of her hand in the interlude.

“I’ll send an envoy by the end of today. Keep the statue safe until then.”

His parting words were said with such seriousness she couldn’t complain about his lips brushing the back of her knuckles.

Once he departed, Rock and Phoebe headed to Floria Clothes Shop.

“Show me that statue,” Phoebe importuned before opening for the day, so Rock unlocked the safe and showed her the white limestone statue. After scrutinizing the rough, spooky wolf figure, she gave a pensive affirmation. “It’s the same thing all right. So this was a cursed statue… I didn’t know.”

“Father didn’t say anything either?” Rock’s question drew a troubled smile from that pretty face.

“Nope. He only knew that the Werewolf Brotherhood had a secret base in those ruins. And also that Count Mateus would buy anything he found there for an exorbitant price.”

“Hmm…”

Phoebe seemed to know in-depth details about her father’s work too. Ebel had said he didn’t meet anyone who knew of her mercenary days, but Lady Trilian did. As Rock always assumed, Phoebe was undeniably intimate with her father on a personal and professional level.

“You see, the Werewolf Brotherhood was supposedly established by those who were oppressed in ancient times,” Phoebe said, sharing bits and pieces of information as she remembered it. “They were a group of fanatics who were in love with the werewolves no one believed existed then, either, and they dreamed of someday making that power theirs. But who would’ve thought they actually obtained the power to become a werewolf?”

“They wanted to become werewolves? Even though it changes them into beasts?” Hard to believe after Rock had seen Ebel.

“It just goes to show the lengths they went to, to stand up to their oppressors,” Phoebe chided.

“You still lose a lot in the process.”

“Well, it’s a fact that they desired the wrong kind of power.” Phoebe placed the statue back inside the safe and securely locked it. Once she finished checking and rechecking the lock, she let out a harsh breath. “Fate, huh?”

“It is a strange twist of fate, what with Father being the one who found the statue.” Rock gave a mirthless laugh. When she thought of the pain and suffering Ebel went through, she couldn’t rejoice over their destiny the way he did.

She knew her father wasn’t at fault. Needless to say, it wasn’t Ebel’s fault, either; nor did he make it sound intentional on his father’s part. Rock found the whole thing awfully heartbreaking.

Phoebe, however, was battling another line of thought.

“Rock, I need to confirm one thing with you,” she started with a grim expression.

“What is it?”

Phoebe sighed again. With an awfully serious voice, she dropped an unexpected question. “What do you think of His Excellency now?”

“Huh?! Wh-What do I…?” The question alone was enough to fluster Rock beyond help.

Phoebe’s brows snapped together, and her lips pursed. “You’ve gotten awfully bashful about it now.”

“I have not! It’s not like I’ve fallen for him or anything like that!” Rock denied it outright, aware of her flushed cheeks. Phoebe’s pointed stare cornered her into confiding the truth. “It’s not what you think… Sometimes I just feel that His Excellency and I are similar when we’re together.”

If she had to put a name to the feelings she had for him, it would be empathy.

“His Excellency was cursed because of his father’s mistake, but he still deeply loves his father even now.”

Though he was oppressed with doubts and anxieties about his cursed body, not once did he utter a word of reproach for his father. Complex feelings on the matter were a given, but that was just another thing that made Ebel and Rock similar.

“I feel the same way. While I have a lot of opinions about Father, I can never hate him.”

She loved him for leaving her an inheritance. She took pride in his being a famous mercenary renowned for his swordsmanship. And she wanted to cherish the fact that her mother only ever loved him after they separated.

“I love him even though I’ve never met him.” She felt a tad guilty confessing this to her father’s lover. Presumptuous though it was, she thought Phoebe would forgive her for it.

“Rock…” Phoebe looked thunderstruck. Trembling, she stared back into Rock’s blue eyes. Mouth set in a hard line, expression stiff, and tears shimmering in her eyes, she looked as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

“Phoebe…?” Rock gingerly called her name.

Snapping out of it, she screwed up her face into a scowl. “Take my advice. It’s too soon for you to marry, Rock!”

“HUH? Wh-Where did that come from?!”

“You’re only twenty! Don’t be hasty! You have no need to rush!”

“I never even said I was going to marry!”

Who was the one being hasty? Rock quickly denied it, but Phoebe seemed mightily concerned about her future. She was grilled about her marriage intentions for a long time after that.

♚♚♚

EBEL’S envoy arrived at Floria Clothes Shop that same evening.

“Kyaa! Master Rock! How I’ve longed to see you again!” It was Johanna, the blond maid Rock met once at Mateus Manor, who tore into the shop with all the noise and excitement of baby chicks awaiting a meal of worms from their mother.

Not only Rock but even Phoebe was startled by the slightly younger girl’s appearance.

“Are you sure you are His Excellency’s envoy? Will you be all right?”

“Fret not! Iniel is with me!”

Rock didn’t recognize the name, but Johanna pointed to a carriage parked outside the shop window. She recognized the man sitting in the luxury berline carriage drawn by two white Clydesdales. He was the debonair coachman who’d picked Rock and Phoebe up for their visit to Mateus Manor.

“Then, if you please, Master Rock. I shall take custody of the statue.” Johanna was frightfully eager about it, so Rock unlocked the safe and handed over the werewolf statue. She carefully wrapped it in a soft, dark cloth and secured it in a cloth bag. “I have received it most assuredly.” She curtsied, and when she straightened, her whole adorable face lit up like the morning sun. “Incidentally, His Excellency stayed the night with you last night?” She swooped in close with that question.

“H-He did…” Rock spluttered. She only affirmed the truth, but that was enough to flush Johanna’s cheeks with thrilled excitement.

“I knew it! Lovers spending the night under the same roof has such a lovely ring to it!”

“Uh, like I said, His Excellency and I aren’t—”

“It’s all right! You don’t have to spell it out for me!” Johanna decisively cut off Rock’s explanation. Dropping her voice to barely a whisper, she asked, “There is but one thing I would like to know. Between you and His Excellency, what role do you take?”

Naturally, Rock didn’t understand the meaning behind her question. “What are you talking about?”

Johanna fidgeted as she explained, “When it comes to male love, the number one point of interest is which one takes which position—”

“HOLD IT! What nonsense are you asking my Rock?!” Phoebe intervened.

Johanna drew back in fear. She shot Phoebe a nervous look but didn’t want to give up without an answer. “A-Am I not supposed to ask…?”

“You obviously aren’t!” Phoebe’s roar had instant success.

“Boo… Very well. I will leave it to my imagination for the time being.” An oddly dejected Johanna plodded out of the shop with the bag containing the statue.

Once the carriage carrying the maid rolled away, Phoebe’s shoulders sagged. “What was His Excellency thinking sending that chatterbox as his envoy…?”

Rock also felt concerned to some degree, but she was more concerned with Johanna’s question. “Phoebe, what was Johanna trying to ask me?” she inquired, since she hadn’t the faintest idea.

“Don’t look for answers to questions you don’t understand,” Phoebe replied with a sigh. “Ignore her, ignore her.”

That answer wasn’t very satisfying, but Rock was relieved to have safely handed over the statue.

Even though it had been kept in the safe, she eerily felt its eyes on her back all day long.

♚♚♚

PEACE and quiet dominated Rock’s life for the next few days.

Ebel didn’t visit her shop during that time since he needed to get rid of the statue. A rush order kept Rock holed away in the shop too. Lady Michaela Linus’s ball gown needed to be ready in time for her birthday party next month.

She had no other rush orders, only Ebel’s cloak, so she concentrated on making the dress. During that time, Phoebe took care of her meals and tending to the shop, arranging more time for Rock to focus on her work.

By the time they entered a new month, Rock had finished the gorgeous ball gown she had always envisioned.

The dress made with the best silk available was a light purple that resembled the receding night before the dawn. Designed with contemporary trends in mind, the dress tied with a dainty ribbon at the back of the neck and had a small tight-fitting waist tailored to Michaela’s size.

Rock made the skirt with minimal drapery so that the way it fell accentuated the legs, and she added a bustle to pull the skirt up. The short sleeves were like large bells with open splits allowing for decorative sleeve hemlines, a very popular style with young ladies, and Rock also made use of delicate silk flounces to show off skin while maintaining a ladylike image.

“Nice work. It came out even more elegant than I imagined.” Phoebe exhaled with pure satisfaction over the completed dress. “Also, what a stunning hue… The color of the coming dawn is breathtaking.”

The dress currently hung on the rattan doll used for display, and Rock suspected it’d look even more perfect on Michaela. Like every job she took on, she put her whole heart into it, and her fears lay more with the embittered older brother’s reaction than Michaela’s.

“I sure hope Duke Linus’s son likes it,” she muttered, airing her concerns.

Phoebe’s neatly manicured brows snapped together. “Let’s shove the money back in his face if he doesn’t like it. Then you can tailor it to me.”

“You like it that much?” Rock asked, delighted.

“I love it! I could’ve pulled it off if I had bigger breasts,” Phoebe answered, depressed over her big-boned build. Her eyes suddenly shifted to Rock. She assessed her from head to toe. “You might look better in it.”

“Me? As if!” She laughed it off, but Phoebe wasn’t joking.

“You’re in your blooming years. Put in a little effort and you’ll shine.”

“I don’t know about that. I’ve never worn something like this before.”

“Plus, you’re close in age and physique with Michaela.”

Now that she mentioned it, Michaela was turning the same age as Rock this month. And they were practically the same height. There were a few small differences in their figures, but Phoebe’s idea wasn’t too far-fetched.

To Rock, though, dresses were merely merchandise, and she couldn’t imagine a scenario where she would wear one. Things may have been different if her promise to her mother had come to fruition. Just remembering that twisted her expression, exposing her glum feelings.

“Come now, don’t let it get you down, dear. You went through the effort of making it. We’ll find a use for it no matter what happens.” Phoebe slapped her encouragingly on the back.

Rock shook off the flurry of daunting thoughts and decided to just be happy about finishing the dress. “Thanks, Phoebe. I’m always being saved by your presence.”

“Don’t thank me for the obvious!” Phoebe bashfully picked lint off her skirt.

♚♚♚

FOR the first time in several days, Ebel visited the shop, the very evening Rock put the finishing touches on the gown.

“I finally made some time to see you and give you an update,” he said to Rock, looking as if a load had finally been lifted from his shoulders. “I smashed that statue to pieces. As we suspected, being around it increases the werewolf curse’s potency, which helped me easily destroy it.”

Johanna had successfully delivered the statue to Ebel, then. From his explanation alone, it was hard to imagine what had happened at Mateus Manor after its arrival, but she gleaned from his expression that it took a lot of time and effort. In the end, the statue was destroyed, and peace returned to Ebel’s life too.

Ebel also let out an admiring breath over Michaela’s displayed gown. “A dress the shade of dawn, huh? This is a marvelous piece of work!”

“Thank you, Ebel.”

“Good grief, I can’t stop being impressed by your workmanship. Not even the real dawn is as beautiful as this.” His compliments flattered Rock and brought her joy.

As for Phoebe, she was giving Ebel the evil eye as she reminded him, “Your Excellency, Lady Michaela will be wearing this.”

“I heard. What of it?”

“Lord Guido Linus plans to make his sister wear this in order to seduce you, you know?” Phoebe harshly quipped.

Ebel chuckled cheerfully. “You don’t have to worry. My heart already belongs to Rock.” He faced Rock and winked. “I believe I already told you that Michaela is like a little sister to me. I will never be seduced by her.”

Rock wordlessly lowered her head. She would be lying if she said she didn’t care, but she didn’t know how best to respond when he put it like that.

Even Ebel had some concerns, though. “Actually, I have been invited to attend Michaela’s birthday celebration this month.” Unease twisted his handsome face. “As I said, we don’t have to worry when it comes to Michaela. But Guido’s behavior is unsettling. Including his ordering a dress from you for Michaela.”

Rock, too, couldn’t understand why Guido not only deliberately visited her shop when he openly despised her, but also ordered a dress from her for his beloved sister. Perhaps, as she feared, he planned to tear apart her work and find fault with the dress.

“I’ll keep an eye out as well, but let me know if Guido does anything to offend you,” Ebel urged Rock on his way out. “He’s my friend, but…I won’t forgive him if he hurts you.”

Rock quietly noted the resolve on his rarely unsmiling expression.

♚♚♚

THE day after she finished the dress, Rock sent a messenger to Linus Manor. A tailor’s job didn’t end with completed clothes. Dresses, especially, required a fitting prior to delivery in order to make the finer adjustments. The messenger was sent to set a date and time for the fitting as well.

Guido replied that day, sending back a letter stating he wanted the tailor to come alone to the manor on the day of Michaela’s birthday party and that he’d be sending a carriage to the slums’ entrance to pick her up then.

Reading his pompous request caused Phoebe to scowl. “Little rich boy thinks he’s so important!”

“He actually is someone important. He’s a duke’s eldest son, after all,” Rock admonished, but Phoebe’s remark came from genuine concern for her.

“Are you going? You’re only going to get hurt.”

“I’m grateful if I can walk away with a ton of money just by getting my feelings a little hurt.”

True, she didn’t want to go through with it, but she wouldn’t quit a job once she’d accepted it. All she hoped was that the dress she slaved over didn’t go to waste.

“Want me to come with you?” Phoebe offered.

Unfortunately, Guido’s request specified “only Rock Floria may come.” The coachman would just turn her away if she came, and Rock didn’t want to put her through this unpleasantness too.

“That’s okay. Take care of the shop for me, Phoebe.”

“I’ll come get you if you’re late getting home,” Phoebe vowed, sounding even more uneasy after Rock smiled.

“It’s in the aristocrat district. You can’t walk that distance.”

“I’ll use whatever I must should the need arise. So, please, rely on me.”

Thinking Phoebe was overreacting with her pleading, Rock agreed. “Fine. I’ll be counting on you if worse comes to worse, Phoebe.”

Guido saw Rock as nothing more than a nuisance. He wouldn’t leave such an annoying interloper at his sister’s celebration for long. Rock had talked herself into taking the situation too lightly.

♚♚♚

ON the day of Michaela’s birthday, Rock left before sunset holding a box containing the gown. Seen off by Phoebe, she headed for the gate connecting the slums to the urban areas. A carriage waited where it was supposed to be, and the coachman called to her when she neared.

“Rock Floria, I presume? Get in.” Unlike the Mateuses’ coachman Iniel, the Linuses’ coachman openly showed his disgust for Rock. He jerked his chin toward the carriage with a face that said he’d much rather not have her ride in it, and he didn’t open the door for her even though her hands were full. Because of his behavior, she had to do a painful balancing act with the box to get inside.

The carriage raced through the imperial capital’s streets, eventually arriving at the aristocratic district around the time the emperor’s castle was dyed red by the setting sun.

The beautiful cityscape she thought she would never see after her visit to Mateus Manor was colored by the sunset glow. The unfamiliar district felt awfully uninviting in the red light that swayed like candle flames, making Rock feel out of place and all alone.

Before long, the carriage turned and stopped in the garden of Linus Manor.

More luxurious than Ebel’s manor, this expansive residence, imitating a castle with its four spires, loomed on the grounds. The garden was as beautifully landscaped as a corner of the wealthy public square, with a covered gazebo on a cobblestone promenade and even a small fountain. The blue alkanet she had seen at Mateus Manor also blanketed the lawns here, and it swayed cheerlessly in the evening wind.

Rock pushed open the carriage door, hopped down, and headed for the entrance with the dress box.

“Aah, you must be the tailor.” Rock didn’t need to mention her name to the servant who greeted her outside. “Go through the front and up the first stairs you see and to the reception room at the end of the third floor. Don’t enter any other rooms.”

“Thank you.” Rock bowed to the curt servant and set foot inside the manor, surprised at being directed to the front entrance instead of the servant stairs. Carrying the box in both hands, she carefully ascended the central staircase lit by the dazzlingly beautiful chandelier.

On the way, a man and woman who appeared to be guests passed her on the landing. Dressed up floridly for the evening party, the couple eyed Rock suspiciously when she moved to the wall to let them pass. Rock knew she was out of place here, but she was quickly overawed by the second mansion she had ever been to.

She stopped at the third floor and walked toward the reception room at the end of the corridor. One of the doors suddenly opened beside her.

“Oh, is that you, tailor?” Michaela sounded puzzled.

Rock was struck speechless when she looked her way.

Michaela stood in the doorway already decked out in a gorgeous gown.

At a glance, Rock could tell the violet dress, which perfectly complimented her black hair, was made from the finest satin unavailable on the market. Everything from the high neckline to the pagoda sleeves and crinoline harkened back to the vestal dresses of tradition—and stood in utter contrast to the order Guido placed. Her tightly squeezed waist was decorated by a thin gold chain, and every button was a gorgeously carved gold piece.

Sending waves through her ample satin skirts, Michaela sashayed over to Rock. “What brings you here today?”

“What brings me here? I came to deliver your order.”

Michaela marveled at her. “I placed my dress order with another tailor instead. You didn’t hear?”

She hadn’t heard.

Before the baffled Rock appeared Guido as if he were Michaela’s shadow. A wicked sneer curled the lips of the formally attired duke’s son upon seeing Rock, but it softened into a smile the moment he saw Michaela as well.

“Michaela. I’ve arranged it so this tailor will be celebrating you today as well.”

Michaela, and obviously Rock, were taken by complete surprise. “Oh my… Why ever so?” she asked, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Because he is also Ebel’s friend. Inviting him will please Ebel.”

“That makes perfect sense. Any friend of Ebel’s is a very dear friend to us.” Innocently smiling, Michaela cheerfully turned to Rock, who was having trouble swallowing the situation. “I’m delighted you came, tailor. Please enjoy tonight to its fullest.”

“What? Pardon me, but what exactly is—” Rock was trying, and failing, to understand the situation.

Not only did they tell her they didn’t need the dress they ordered, but they told her she was a guest invited to the party. Needless to say, she hadn’t been informed of any of those things and didn’t think she had the proper standing to attend.

Something smells fishy. Would a proud man like Guido invite a lowly tailor from the slums to a party out of the goodness of his heart? I don’t think so.

“Michaela,” Guido said over Rock’s question, “You have rounds to make. Go on ahead.”

“All right, Brother. See you later, tailor.” Michaela happily left in a swish of skirts as her brother watched her go down the corridor.

Once he confirmed his sister had disappeared around the corner, Guido’s voice dropped below zero. “Come, tailor. Your room is that way.” He flicked his gaze toward the door at the end of the corridor. “Take that box inside with you. Don’t dally.”

Full of doubt, Rock had little choice but to obey his orders.

It was more of a storage room than a space used to receive guests. By no means did this room—with only one big window and randomly packed with overflowing trunks and old books shoved haphazardly into bookshelves—look like somewhere anyone but the serving staff would use. A flame already flickered inside the sole lantern placed on top of a wooden trunk, pointlessly lighting the dust-covered chamber.

“Put the box there.” Guido jerked his chin toward the floor, so Rock slowly lowered the gown box.

Then she voiced her confusion. “May I ask what is going on here?”

Guido snorted and said mockingly, “Nothing much. My little sister just said she didn’t want the slutty dress you were making.”

“Pardon…?”

“So I placed an order with the best tailor in the imperial capital and had him make a high-quality dress my sister would be happy to wear.” Guido exulted in the cruelty he flung at the paralyzed Rock. “No way could a lowly tailor from the slums make a dress keeping in character with the latest fashions. I don’t want to make my angelic sister look like a whore in your raunchy dress—if you can even call it a dress.”

His words were the greatest insult possible to Rock. First, he offended her by degrading the dress made to his specifications without even looking at it; then he added insult to injury by comparing her with another tailor. Rock was certainly a young tailor with limited experience running a store, but she was confident in her talent.

More than anything else, the gown’s design stood as proof of the love and care she put into making it with Michaela in mind. Even a stubborn nob like Guido wouldn’t dare call it raunchy or indecorous if he saw it.

But, without ever opening the box, Guido had become drunk on the pleasure he received from tearing her apart. “Any clothes made by the godforsaken devil who seduced Ebel has no place to go but the rubbish bins!”

“How dare you mock another’s hard work…!” Rock’s frustration raised her voice to a shout.

He leered at her. “You lose your temper as if you matter, insolent scum of the earth.”

Rock was several steps beyond losing her temper. If she hadn’t been dealing with a duke’s son, she would’ve bashed his smug face in with a right hook. But she maintained enough self-control in her anger to know punching Guido’s lights out would only bring about her destruction. She gnashed her teeth and dug her nails into her palms.

“Relax, you guttersnipe. I won’t let your work go to waste.” Guido’s scrutinizing emerald eyes cruised her figure. His rudely insulting gaze traveled from her wine-colored hair to her slender frame, stopping at her feet covered by work boots before returning to her face. “Didn’t you hear me? I said you are a party guest tonight.” Rock prepared for the worst, but the hit he dealt her was a mental one. “You can have the dress. Appear at the party wearing it.”

She thought he had discovered her. Chills rushed through every fiber of her being. Ebel was one thing, but being exposed to this man now spelled doom. It was a given Guido would fly into a rage if he found out the man he was ridiculing for being girlish was actually a woman.

“I-I’m a man. I can’t wear a dress.” Rock’s voice shook, but Guido took that to mean he succeeded in ruffling the younger man’s feathers. Pure rapture flashed in his cold eyes.

“And that’s why you’re going to wear it.”

“To what end…?”

“You sunk your claws into Ebel’s heart. You shameless heathen. So now you can present yourself before him wearing a woman’s gown. Isn’t that amusing?” Guido seized Rock’s chin in his hand and yanked it up. She grimaced from the icy touch and pain he inflicted by digging his fingers in hard.

“Let go of me!”

“The more I look at you, the more you look like a woman. Good God, there’s nothing more disgusting than you.” He leaned in till his nose nearly touched hers and inspected her features with the eyes of an interrogator. Rock couldn’t jerk her chin free and was stuck with the feel of his breath on her face as he whispered, “I’ll show Ebel how different from a woman you are. Then he’ll finally come to his senses.”

That proved it—Guido still believed Rock was male. He intended to disillusion Ebel by dragging Rock dressed in a woman’s gown in front of him. His tastelessly cruel plan had failed before it even started, but Rock had no reason to obediently go along with him either.

“Do you think I am going to obey you? I am going home.” She swatted at his hand, but her strength was no match for the death grip of the much larger Guido. He dug his fingers in so hard her jaw popped, wrenching a cry from her lips. “Ow…!”

“Don’t you for one second believe you can leave here unscathed. I’ve summoned a constable unit here under the pretense of guarding the event.” Gripping her chin with such force it wouldn’t be long before it broke, he threatened her in a low snarl: “They would gladly toss you in the clink if I tell them a street rat from the slums broke in.”

To the constables, people residing in the slums were parasites to be gotten rid of. Rock was fully aware Guido wasn’t making empty threats.

More than anything else, the eyes looking down the bridge of his nose at her flared with insanity. Some of the vagabonds lurking in the slums had this same look in their eyes. They were the eyes of men and women who had sold their souls to the devil and didn’t shy away from murder when push came to shove.

“I’ll send you home unharmed as long as you put on that obscene dress,” he ordered, finally releasing her. “Get changed now. Time is running out for you,” he sneered on his way out of the storage room.

Rock was left alone in the room with the unopened box. Guido’s touch still lingered on her aching chin. She couldn’t see it, but there were red marks in the shape of his fingers imprinted there. Feeling defiled, she scrubbed at the spot with her sleeve. Then she shouted to vent her anger.

“What the bloody hell is his problem?!”

A vortex of differing emotions swirled inside her. Anger over having the job she put her heart and soul into insulted, irritation over unrewarded work, frustration over her inability to lash out at Guido, and growing contempt on par with the mocking she’d received. And there was a smidgeon of pity for the man.

Just as she previously suspected, it wasn’t Ebel’s former fiancée who was obsessed with him, but her older brother, Guido. His methods stood no chance of changing Ebel’s mind. She could be sure of that now.

“I wonder if Ebel is here yet…” In search of rescue, Rock stumbled over to the window in the back of the storage room. The view overlooked the Linuses’ garden, and she saw several dozen parked guest carriages in it.

She strained her eyes in search of the carriage from Mateus Manor, but it was impossible to find in the garden that was already embracing dusk. Unable to spot it after looking for several minutes, she sighed and leaned against the window. “I shouldn’t even think about getting help, then.”

Of course Ebel would lend her a helping hand if she sought it. But finding him alone without being discovered by the constables on patrol within and without the manor was impractical. With zero understanding of the building’s layout, running away by herself looked just as unfeasible.

Plus, this was the third floor. She didn’t have the courage to jump from the window. So the only choice left to her was—

Rock glanced at the evening gown box left on the floor. Maybe she would succeed in meeting Ebel if she wore it as Guido wanted. She didn’t know what to expect of a nobleman’s banquet, but Ebel should find her even in the largest venue full of guests. Is it okay for me to believe that?

What caused her to hesitate wasn’t outrage toward Guido, but the heart of a woman she hid deep in her chest.

“…Do I have to wear a dress?” she whispered, shoving her hair away from her face.

My hair must be a frizzy mess considering I haven’t combed it since morning, and I don’t have any makeup with me. Besides, there’s not even a mirror in here. Trying to fit a dress I tailored to Michaela’s figure will be hard without a mirror. Will a dress even look good on me when I’m easily mistaken for a boy?

“Ugh….” Aggravated, impatient, and hopeless, Rock sighed as she leaned against the window.

All of a sudden, something knocked on the glass behind her. She looked over her shoulder to where someone was hanging down on the opposite side of the window pane. The upside-down face peeping at her was the one she had seen every day for the last three years.

“Phoebe!” she instinctively shouted.

Outside, Phoebe moved her lips. “Open the window.”

Rock did as asked and threw open the window. Phoebe nimbly swung into the room from the roof.

“Why are you here?”

Phoebe answered her question after closing the window. “I knew the spoiled toff wouldn’t send you home without trouble first. So I came to check on you.” She put her hands on her hips, which weren’t covered in the usual shape-concealing dresses she wore.

A tight-fitting leather jacket and breeches replaced the corset and petticoat and was topped off by a riveted breastplate. Leather boiled in oil was generally used for armor, and Rock knew at a glance that Phoebe was armed for a fight. She affixed a dagger the length of an adult man’s arm to her hip and drew her luscious chestnut hair back into a high ponytail. Gallantry and valiance defined her appearance, bringing out a different form of beauty from her usual pretty big-lady looks.

“Your clothes…”

Rock’s mention of her clothing brought an awkward look to her face. “Just in case. Infiltrating a building in a dress isn’t easy, and I still had my old leather armor laying around.”

This was Rock’s first time seeing Phoebe dressed in her armor.

Phoebe was the woman who normally brawled barehanded in the streets. Choosing to appear in armor showed just how concerned she was about Rock. Rock’s tensed nerves instantly unraveled with relief from Phoebe showing up when she thought help wasn’t coming.

“Thank you so much for coming, Phoebe!” Rock threw her arms around her.

Easily holding her up, Phoebe simpered. “Now, this isn’t like you, child… What are you doing in a cramped room like this?”

Right! Now’s not the time to celebrate. Rock had a pressing problem to diffuse. With little choice, she explained the situation to Phoebe. She included every detail, from Michaela wearing another dress to Guido threatening to sic the constables on her if she didn’t wear her gown.

As she listened, Phoebe’s expression gradually turned grim, until it exploded with outrage over learning about Guido seizing Rock’s chin. “That bastard! How dare he do that to our Rock!” she seethed, with nowhere to take out her wrath. She placed her hands on Rock’s shoulders. “Did he do anything else to you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m all right. He did verbally abuse me, though.” Rock lifted her shoulders in a half shrug.

Phoebe stomped out her uncontrollable anger. “I can’t forgive that either! There’s nothing disgusting about you! You’re adorable!”

“I-I don’t think I am that either…” Rock said bashfully, disagreeing with Guido and Phoebe’s assessment.

“He asked for it! We’re going to teach him a lesson. Wear the dress, Rock!” Phoebe boldly ordered.

“WHAT?! Are you serious, Phoebe?!”

“You think I would joke about this? Isn’t it mortifying to let him get away with making fun of you?”

Of course she was mortified. She couldn’t stand Guido stomping all over the time, energy, and emotion she put into tailoring the perfect dress for Michaela. For better or worse, he didn’t realize Rock was a woman yet. This was the perfect opportunity to knock him down a peg or two.

Most importantly, if she caught Ebel’s eye, he’d turn this bad situation in their favor.

“Will I even look good in a dress?”

Phoebe merrily laughed off Rock’s fears. “You sure will. You’re Fredericks Berwick’s daughter, after all!”

The mention of her father’s name slapped sense back into Rock. She remembered how he was said to have been a talented mercenary who slipped into dangerous ruins and returned with the goods with all five limbs intact. He had to have possessed dauntless courage for that.

I can’t be a coward when his blood runs through me!

“Leave your appearance to me. I can do your makeup.”

Phoebe’s encouragement made up Rock’s mind. “I’ll do it. Will you help me, Phoebe?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is your debut into high society!”

Curious, Rock stared up at her sweetly smiling face framed by her coiffured hair. For some reason, Phoebe had a makeup kit on her even though she was wearing armor.

“Why do you have that with you?” Rock asked, and received a scolding in return.

“Silly question. Carrying makeup on you at all times is the way of the woman.”

“It is…?”

“Go on, now. Get changed first.”

Given that extra push, Rock started by opening the box.

Finally freed from the dark confines of the box, the silk evening gown shimmered like glass in the lantern’s light. Rock was proud of the finished piece, though she never imagined while she was making it that she would be the first to put it on.

Staring at the gown solidified her resolve, and she began unbuttoning her vest and shirt.

“Whoa! Hey! Let me know before you undress!” Phoebe sounded unusually flabbergasted behind her.

“What’s the problem? We’re both women,” Rock said with a laugh, puzzled.

“W-We are, but even women show modesty around each other!”

Rock looked over her shoulder at Phoebe, who’d stubbornly turned her back to her. Phoebe’s behavior didn’t make sense to Rock, but she went along with it and changed.

The time came for the trickster tailor living a double life to add to her duplicity.

Until today, Rock had handled many types of silk, but this was her first time wearing it. The high-quality silk was slippery soft, and it molded comfortably to her skin. Bedazzled by the heavenly feel of it, she stared down at her body decorated by the gown.

Wearing nothing but pants for the last couple of years made her feel uncomfortable in a skirt. Slight movements gave a beautiful swaying motion to the shimmering semitransparent dawn-colored skirt, which was made from thin cloud-like layers of silk gauze. Since she was a little rounder around the waist than Michaela, she had to tightly tie the sash belt to pull off the same image.

“I’m not sure I can walk well with such a long skirt.”

“That’s no reason for you to walk with your head down,” Phoebe stressed as Rock kept her eyes trained on the floor when she walked. “Hold your head up high.”

“I-I know. I’ll try.” Rock lifted her head and pulled back her shoulders.

As tailored, the trendy gown, which tied in a ribbon behind the neck, exposed Rock’s feminine collarbone and smooth shoulders. This wasn’t her first time making this style of dress, but she felt a little embarrassed wearing it. The decorative sleeve hemlines swayed whenever she moved her arms, and she was quite taken with that princess-like quality.

“I never thought I would end up wearing this.” Whispering those words made her feel embarrassed a little after the fact.

For a long time now, she had dressed as and pretended to be a man. Putting her arms through the sleeves of a dress thrilled her, even though she’d never found discontentment in donning a male lifestyle.

Phoebe took over makeup duty once Rock finished putting her dress in order. “I don’t have every tool on me, so this will be a basic job.”

Contrary to her words, makeup container after makeup container appeared from her leather pockets. Loose face powder filled a transparent vial, and a soft shade of rouge was housed within a flat wooden container shaped like a button. Two, then three brushes emerged, and Rock, who had never worn makeup, doubted her eyes.

“Do we really need to use all of this?”

“Yes, we do. Now keep your mouth shut for a bit,” Phoebe instructed, starting by brushing the loose powder onto Rock’s whole face.

As Rock’s heart raced impossibly fast from the distinctly sweet smell of the powder, Phoebe picked up another brush and dipped the tip into the rouge. Then she gently, incomparably gentler than the duke’s son, grasped Rock’s chin and slightly tilted it upward as she placed the brush tip on her lips.

“Th-That tickles…” she said with a laugh when the brush moved over the contour of her lips.

“Quit that. Move again and I’ll give you big lips like a monster,” Phoebe warned with a wry smile.

Rock snapped her lips shut and swallowed her laughter. The brush vividly colored her mouth. After drawing the contours of her lips, Phoebe used delicate brush strokes to paint the softest parts red. Rock made it through without squirming too much.

Phoebe didn’t stop her makeup job there. She used an eyebrow pencil to shape Rock’s thin, girlish eyebrows and brushed some color over her eyelids, bringing more definition to her pretty eyes. She finished off with a light splash of blush before spinning Rock around by the shoulders.

“Take a look. You’ve become a drop-dead gorgeous woman.”

Hearing Phoebe’s voice at her back, Rock stared in amazement at what was before her eyes in the glass window covered in the black of night. The evening darkness hazily reflected Rock’s present appearance back like a mirror. Staring back in surprise was a pretty young lady with glossy lips attired in the light purple gown she put her heart into making.

“Amazing… You do magic with makeup, Phoebe.” Rock’s rouged lips fell open.

“I’ve had plenty of experience with it,” she boasted. “I’m done with your hair, dear. Face this way.”

Rock turned toward Phoebe again and looked up at her first smile that night. Phoebe’s expression suddenly darkened as she inspected Rock’s dolled-up appearance. Surprise widened her ocean-blue eyes, and she gasped before touching Rock’s cheeks with both hands. Tilting her chin up, she intently studied Rock’s face as if assessing the authenticity of something nostalgic.

“What’s wrong, Phoebe?” Rock asked, finding it strange.

Phoebe quietly exhaled. “I’m shocked… You look perfectly alike.”

She didn’t say who, but there was only one person she could mean.

Heart prancing at the thought, Rock straight-out asked, “With Father? You think I look like him?”

Phoebe didn’t move her eyes from Rock as she answered in a trance, “No. With Vale. You look very much like Vale Floria.”

“…What?” It was Rock’s turn to gasp. How did her deceased father’s lover know what her mother looked like? She’d never heard about them meeting before. “You know my mother?”

Phoebe smiled gently for one whole second before slamming her eyes shut and taking a deep breath to control her feelings. When she opened her eyes, her awe-inspiring expression was enough to take Rock’s breath away. “Roxy, you are the child of Fredericks Berwick and Vale Floria.”

Phoebe used Rock’s real name. The last time she had used it was three long years ago, when they first met. She spoke emphatically to the shaken Rock: “Don’t ever falter. Be unabashed, for the you right now has the power to enthrall and win over even the most faultfinding eyes.” She softly bumped her forehead against Rock’s and vowed, “I will be with you if anything happens. I’ll kidnap you if I have to. Charge in there without anything holding you back.”

“…Okay.” Aware that she was becoming overwhelmed, Rock became flustered. She couldn’t shake the feeling the person in front of her wasn’t “Phoebe.”

♚♚♚

“I’LL find a place I can lie low. Rest easy knowing I’ll be watching over you,” Phoebe reassured Rock before they parted ways in the storage room and Rock set off alone down the corridor.

Had Michaela’s birthday celebration already begun? Silence reigned over the empty third-floor corridors. Careful not to tread on her gown’s hem, Rock proceeded through the hallway.

Along the way, she took one look back at the closed storage room door. Who is Phoebe really? That thought crossed her mind.

She—or rather he—had always been there for Rock. Despite the very thin connection of Rock being her lover’s child, Phoebe gallantly looked after Rock, supporting her in every way since the day she began living in the imperial capital.

And now Rock had discovered that Phoebe knew what her mother looked like. Her parents had separated before she was born. It wasn’t unfeasible for Phoebe to have known her father since way back then, but something didn’t seem right about that. Nor did the part about Ebel not pinning down any information about her mercenary days after interviewing dozens of people. Then there was Lady Trilian describing the younger Phoebe as a good, strong man.

At this point, a single, preposterous hypothesis was forming inside her. Rock broke off that line of thought and purposely stopped looking back. Questions could be saved for later. She had something she must do now. So as not to shame her father’s and mother’s names, she decided never again to look back.

♚♚♚

TRAILING her hand down the railing, Rock gracefully descended the central staircase to the first floor where she passed the servant who had met her outside. Taken by her beauty, his eyes widened. He quickly smoothed over his unprofessional reaction with a cordial smile.

“The ballroom is located straight ahead. Please hurry, as the celebration has already begun.”

“Thank you.” Holding back her laughter at his complete attitude change, Rock curtsied the way her mother taught her all those years ago and set off for the party.

The servant very likely mistook her for a noblewoman. As a tailor, Rock felt blessed that her dress and a little makeup had this much influence over others.

Thus, the trickster tailor arrived at the duke’s ballroom in a beautiful silk evening gown. The six double-leaf doors to the large room were left open, dazzling all who looked in at the effulgent lights of the crystal chandeliers and the lavishly dressed guests who shimmered beneath its glow. Rock was met at the door by the din of laughter exchanged between guests holding silver wineglasses and the soft melody played by the orchestra.

She took a single deep breath.

Holding her head high, she pinched the flat sides of her dress and swept inside the room.

Immediately, every guest near the doors looked at the new arrival. All were enthralled by the young lady in the dawn-colored ball gown, but suspicion immediately overtook them. They knew at a glance that she wasn’t someone they had seen at high society events before. The etiquette of a ball required a young lady of her age to be escorted by a male partner or a female chaperone, but she appeared to be unaccompanied.

“I wonder which family she is from.”

“She’s pretty, but I’ve never seen her before.”

Rock advanced deeper into the room, pretending not to hear their whispers. The space overflowed with nobles enjoying the party how they liked. For some, that meant enjoying a good glass of wine; for others, it meant dining on delicacies with relish, while others were engrossed in good conversation or listening to the orchestra. But even they turned and had their breath taken away when Rock passed by. Countless gazes followed her as she passed, taking in every bit of her beautiful face made more beautiful by the makeup, her exposed shoulders, and dawn-colored gown. Rock kept her head held high as she walked with determination, not letting their whispers or stares trip her up.

Then she spotted Guido and Michaela sitting next to each other at the back of the room. The siblings noticed Rock once she was within visible distance. Guido shot up from his chair and gaped at her. Blinking more frequently than a common snipe, he acted as if he were seeing an illusion. The color leached from his face when he realized she was no phantom.

Beside him, Michaela blinked several times in doubt before eventually covering her mouth with both hands, as though everything had clicked into place for her. A wide surprised yet delighted smile blossomed on her innocently sweet face.

Ignoring his sister’s reaction, Guido began bellowing, “Guards! Get that—”

The ballroom stirred so loudly around Rock that it swallowed his angry shout.

Someone was hurrying through the crowd to get to her. Burnt sienna hair swept back, Ebel was clad in elegant clothing fit for a party, and his handsome face was tinged with surprise and impatience. He looked frantic to reach her.

Ultimate relief swept over Rock when she saw him. She expected no less of the werewolf count’s keen nose, eyes, and ears. He found her right away, as she had hoped. Slipping through the throng of guests, he hurtled to a stop in front of her.

Gold eyes going rounder than the sun, he breathed out, “I never thought you would appear before me here…” He ran over to her and gazed upon her splendor as if confirming her presence was real. “Or I should say your presence…is like a dream.”

Rock bashfully accepted his attention. She couldn’t help feeling more ticklish inside than when Phoebe did her makeup, as Ebel’s gaze caressed her softly combed hair, rouged lips, and gown. It was all the more flattering because this was the first time she had appeared before him as a woman.

“I have thought you were a gorgeous woman since long ago.” Deeply moved, Ebel offered her his hand. The unaccompanied count’s single action sent the crowd into a mighty commotion. He paid them no mind. “Please give me your hand. I wish you would grant only me the honor of escorting you this evening.”

Raised as a commoner, Rock didn’t know the etiquette required in these situations. But she had no reason not to accept the hand Ebel extended to her.

“I believed you would find me, Your Excellency,” she told him from the heart, squeezing his hand.

Ebel flashed a swoon-worthy smile and gently squeezed back. “Address me as usual. No matter the place or the company, I want you to call me by name at all times.”

“As you wish, Ebel.”

Satisfaction glistened in his golden eyes. He seemed about to say her name, but he closed his opened mouth once, thought it over, then inquired of her with a smile, “You know, I still haven’t learned your full name.”

True enough, Rock had yet to properly introduce herself despite their continual encounters. Now was as good a time as ever to tell him. With that in mind, she spoke the name gifted to her by her parents. “My name is Roxy Floria.”

“…A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” Ebel exclaimed, his reaction the complete opposite of when he’d learned of her alias. True joy etched into his handsome features, he gazed into her eyes and whispered in the sweetest voice, “I will treasure every syllable, my beloved Roxy.”

People have been staring at my face a lot today. But this is the only moment my cheeks have flushed with such heat. Rock embraced that self-realization.