Chapter 3
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- Chapter 3 - Wealthy Anonymous Guest
Wealthy Anonymous Guest
“You’ve come out for the first time in a while.”
“Yes, madam. I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
After returning from delivering Miss Prosi’s hat, Romia had caught a mild cold.
It was strangely severe despite the warm weather, a terrible cold, out of season.
Seeing Romia’s pallid complexion, Madam Reccetto sat beside her and gently patted her shoulder.
“Violet didn’t force you to come out while sick, did she?”
The only person who ever seemed to understand when Romia came against her will was her godmother and mentor, Madam Reccetto.
“They said they needed a new design.”
“Of course they do. They’ve been advertising a new hat line with such flourish.”
Madam Reccetto clicked her tongue with disdain. She held no personal grudge against Violet, Romia’s mother, but she disapproved of the way the woman used her young daughter for business gain.
The flagship business of the Perlos family was their dress shop. But the most celebrated part of it, their true signature was their hats.
The designs were so unique and beautiful that they were especially popular among noblewomen.
While Madam Reccetto managed the store as the appointed representative, the truth was, every design came from Romia’s fingertips.
“What should I do? I can’t think of anything right now.”
Romia was still not fully recovered, her mind foggy. It was hardly the right condition to expect a burst of creativity.
Her stuffy, nasal voice whined faintly, and Madam Reccetto comforted her with the same words she always used.
“The path of art is long and arduous, my dear.”
She considered the work of creating and altering hats to be a form of art. A proper outfit was never complete without a hat. Madam Reccetto took great pride in what she did.
“Don’t rush. What you have is a talent no one else can imitate.”
A talent no one else can imitate. Romia fidgeted with the notebook she always carried with her, filled with designs for hats she’d drawn over time.
Hearing that others couldn’t imitate what she did should have made her feel good and it did, to a point.
But it also reminded her that she herself could never replicate the talents of others.
A strange melancholy settled in her chest.
Suddenly, Romia stood and hefted a stack of miscellaneous items piled in the corner.
“Romia?”
“Since I’m here, I might as well help. Let me assist you, madam.”
“You? Personally?”
“Yes. It’s not like holding this notebook is helping me come up with any ideas. Should I just move these somewhere?”
When thoughts became too tangled, the best thing was to keep moving.
Romia’s passion could burn intensely, but Madam Reccetto had noticed her condition was not quite right today.
She looked at Romia with concern but ultimately didn’t try to stop her.
Instead, she pulled out a memo where she’d written down the day’s schedule.
‘Now, let’s see here…’
“As it happens, we’re expecting a very important guest today.”
“An important guest?”
“A wealthy anonymous customer. The kind your mother is so very fond of.”
Madam Reccetto added with a sly wink, half-mocking Violet.
A wealthy anonymous customer?
Romia’s eyelids fluttered slowly. Most of her customers were well-off, but for Madam Reccetto to speak of someone this way, the guest must be extraordinary, a true big shot.
Everyone of status and fame in Beredrose already came to the Perlos hat shop.
Could there still be noble houses she hadn’t heard of?
Romia’s cold-addled brain turned slowly, trying to process.
Noticing the puzzled look, Madam Reccetto smiled faintly and handed her a neatly wrapped box.
“First, why don’t you deliver Madam Usilia’s hat before the guest arrives?”
✮⋆˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
The Queen’s absence was growing prolonged.
Rumours were beginning to swirl, whispers that she might have already died due to her failing health.
Zehardi couldn’t sit still.
He knew perfectly well what the Prime Minister Count Keldro, and Chancellor Marquis Vanessa, had been implying with their subtle remarks.
And so, he personally went to Beredrose to bring back Olivia.
With this one move, the absurd rumour that the Queen had died would vanish by day’s end.
“We’ve arrived.”
“Thank you.”
A black car came to a stop in front of a modest little shop. The chauffeur opened the door, and Zehardi stepped out with natural grace.
Count Keldro, who had ridden with him, looked pale and sweaty from the long journey, clutching his stomach to suppress his nausea.
Despite the cramped hours in the car, Zehardi looked composed, not a crease in his posture, not a flicker of weariness on his face.
Count Keldro, looking at his unruffled demeanour, could only click his tongue in admiration.
“This is the place?”
Unlike the bustling streets of the capital, turning one’s head here revealed a vast stretch of nature.
There were no tall buildings, and the wide-open view was refreshing. After being cooped up in a narrow vehicle for hours, the open space felt liberating.
“This is said to be the finest hat shop in all of Beredrose. The very shop Her Majesty mentioned.”
Pleased to show off what he’d learned, Count Keldro spoke confidently.
Zehardi gave a small nod.
If not for Olivia’s letter, he would have headed directly to the Count’s manor.
But for some reason, Olivia had added a peculiar note in one of her rare messages, saying she wanted a new hat with the odd remark that the Beredrose sun was harsher and more intense than the capital’s.
Zehardi was the only one who had truly understood what that meant.
‘She must have really envied the Count’s daughter’s hat.’
As her grandson, such a small wish was something he could easily grant.
Before visiting the Queen, Zehardi stopped by the shop favoured by Prosi Beredrose.
“Shall I go in with you?”
Count Keldro offered, but Zehardi shook his head.
“I’ll wait here.”
The order had already been placed. All Count Keldro needed to do was go in, pay, and collect the pre-packaged hat.
There was no need for Zehardi to trouble himself with entering such a tiny shop.
According to the Chancellor’s investigation, the hat business belonged to the Perlos family and was quite popular in Beredrose.
But to Zehardi, it was just another unfamiliar name, nothing more nothing less.
“I’ll be quick.”
As Count Keldro hurried inside, Zehardi glanced up at the signboard.
It looked modest, not the sort to grab attention. His eyes shifted, indifferent, to the glass window.
Behind it, hats filled the display shelves, clearly visible through the transparent pane.
‘The craftsmanship is impressive.’
Watching Count Keldro converse with the shop owner, Zehardi offered that brief internal assessment.
The hats were vibrant, each with its own strong character. They bore no resemblance to the styles popular in the capital, but for a humble shop, the wares weren’t bad at all. Nothing eye-catching, yet oddly hard to look away from.
After all, they had captured the heart of Olivia, who had seen all manner of beautiful things throughout her life. That said something.
Right then, while standing under the shade of the shop’s awning, Zehardi turned his head toward the sound of a voice.
His back, bent slightly to inspect the hats, straightened at once.
“Are you here to buy a hat?”
A woman with distinct curly hair approached.
Her complexion was so pale and delicate that one might reasonably wonder whether she was unwell.
“Is it for yourself? Or is it a gift?”
✮⋆˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
‘Who could that wealthy anonymous customer be?’
Having finished delivering Madam Usilia’s hat, Romia quickened her steps.
She feared the guest Madam Reccetto had mentioned might arrive or worse, might have already come during her absence.
In the distance, her shop came into view. But something was off, an unfamiliar car was parked out front.
In rural Beredrose, even Miss Prosi rarely rode in an automobile.
The sight of such a rare, luxurious vehicle made Romia’s cheeks flush with excitement as she hurried forward.
Even more than the car’s opulence, it was the figure becoming clearer the closer she drew that made Romia forget how to breathe.
“No way…”
She murmured in disbelief, staring at the man standing by the window inside the shop.
Halos of light around someone, that only happened in movies, didn’t it? Yet Romia stood there, biting her lip, eyes fixed on him, her face full of unjust bewilderment.
His clean, impeccable clothing, the air of dignity he carried, it all overflowed with refinement.
He didn’t belong here. Not in quiet, modest Beredrose.
He was someone who radiated affluence, someone who clashed with the tranquil charm of the countryside.
Just looking at him made her throat tighten. Her body grew strangely warm, perhaps her fever had returned. Her limbs felt stiff, as though broken, refusing to obey her will.
Romia stood for a long time, staring between the black automobile parked outside and the young man admiring her hats through the glass.
Looking between the quaint little shop and the exquisitely groomed stranger, she felt something unfamiliar swelling in her chest.
But only for a moment.
Romia gathered her courage. Shuffling forward, she took a deep breath and spoke.
“Are you here to buy a hat?”
“…..”
“Is it for yourself? Or a gift, perhaps?”
Despite her repeated questions, the man offered no reply. Romia gave a faint, awkward laugh.
She kept talking, though his lips remained firmly closed, and yet his eyes were so intense, so smouldering, that the silence felt like it might burn her.
“If you’re here to buy a hat, I can help you. I could show you options that suit you personally or if it’s a gift, if you tell me the recipient’s age or gender, I could make some recommendations. Would you like to come inside and look around?”
She smiled brightly as she spoke, but the man remained silent.
Eventually, it was Romia who blushed. The embarrassment of chattering away in front of someone who wouldn’t respond finally caught up with her.
All her earlier confidence vanished, and she began fidgeting with her fingers, lowering her head.
“Did I… say something wrong?”
And then, unexpectedly, the man’s lips parted.
“Button.”
Romia had been bowing her head and didn’t notice his hand reaching toward her, until his cologne hit her all at once, and she flinched.
When she looked up slightly, his face remained impassive.
Then, with a small sound, a button popped loose.
“It came off.”
He had plucked a button from Romia’s upper garment and dropped it on the floor deliberately.
The light, thin button made no sound as it hit the ground. It rolled a few times and then lay still, like it had fainted. Romia stared at it, biting her lip.
She couldn’t look at him. If she did, if she let herself breathe in his scent now that he was so close, she might lose all composure.