Chapter 88
“I’m not deaf… Talk softly… Let’s see… Twenty-two people.”
His trembling hands moved the abacus. He seemed to be calculating the total.
“Two million Persoss per person… That makes four hundred forty million.”
Emily, who had been listening from behind, furrowed her brow aggressively.
Two million Persos per person? Has that old man gone senile?
A rundown local inn charging more than a five-star hotel for a night? But even so, Walter was already reaching into his coat to pull out his checkbook after hearing the amount.
With a tense expression, Emily walked decisively toward the counter, her shoes clicking on the floor.
“My lady, let me handle this. Excuse me, sir.”
“Walter! Come pay up. Four hundred forty thousand Persos. These places always ask for payment in advance.”
“Four hundred forty thousand…”
Leaving the stunned Emily behind, Hermia called Walter. Walter, who also thought the price was four hundred forty million, quickly put away his checkbook and took out five bills in the hundred-thousand range.
“Didn’t he just say four hundred million?”
“It’s the same as calling a hundred-Persos snack ten million as a joke. Looks like it’s twenty thousand per person here.”
Sure enough, the old man handed them sixty thousand in change and shamelessly said, “Here’s sixty million…”
Hermia casually pointed to a drawer that looked like a small wooden tub.
“We can grab towels from down here, right?”
“Uh, yes… That’s right… Smart young lady…”
It didn’t seem appropriate to point out the old man’s rudeness, given his age and how he looked like he could pass away at any moment. Emily, now embarrassed, quietly stepped back.
“Alright, everyone, follow me!”
Naturally, expecting any room service or guidance was out of the question. Following the Duchess, who behaved like an employee, everyone picked up a towel and trailed after her up the stairs.
The once-quiet inn echoed with long creaks from the old wooden floor.
“Any door that’s open means the room is available. The key should be hanging on the doorknob, so keep it safe.”
As Hermia grabbed towels for herself and Walter, the maids hurried to take them from her. Fortunately, the towels were soft and clean, with a gentle scent of laundry soap.
The bed sheets and blankets were clean as well. Hermia, sensing the scent of sun-dried fabric, nodded in satisfaction.
“Better than it looks, right?”
She sat down without hesitation on a small table and wooden chair in the center of the room.
“For a room like this, twenty thousand Persos is actually cheap. If I had this much space back where I lived, it would’ve easily gone over fifty thousand.”
Walter hung his jacket on a lattice-shaped coat rack on the wall, then walked over to her. The wall covered in loud floral patterns was just three steps away from the table.
He looked down at the old wooden chair, worn with time, then quietly took a seat.
There was no cushion, not even a seat pad. The chair showed signs of countless guests. It felt like bare skin might’ve touched it too, which made him uneasy, but he chose not to show it.
He could accept the room rate, but he was now a little curious about how she knew so much about how the place operated. Hermia narrowed her eyes and asked, as if testing him.
“You’re wondering how I know all this, right?”
“I thought maybe you’d worked in a place like this before.”
Walter answered without hesitation. He knew better than anyone that before marriage, she wouldn’t have gone to an inn with another man.
He had braced for the possibility. Before they met, Hermia had been engaged to a man of bad reputation. It was entirely possible that she had crossed the line with him.
He remembered the night he found out he had been her first. The deep relief he felt then reminded him that there was no need for pointless doubts.
Even if she hadn’t been pure, it wouldn’t have mattered to Walter. He might have wanted to erase the other man from existence, but—
In the end, he had been her first. And until the day he died, he would be her only one.
Even the day Hermia found out who Jack Vansen really was, that fact would never change.
Walter hid his thoughts and gave her a soft smile, almost like it was painted on.
“Did you really work in a place like this?”
Hermia smiled back at him.
“After my mom was hospitalized, I had to earn money too. Dad’s income wasn’t enough with all the hospital bills.”
She washed dishes at a restaurant. Did laundry at inns…
She listed the reasons she’d never read a single fairy tale, known by everyone, in a calm and matter-of-fact tone.
Walter occasionally nodded, signaling he was listening. The setting sun now gently streamed through the open window.
Hermia’s eyes caught the red glow and turned into an intriguing shade of purple. The deep shadows on her beautiful face stirred something in his chest.
It felt like pain. A dull, throbbing ache. He furrowed his brow slightly, realizing the ache wasn’t just in his heart. It was also in a very specific part of his body. A sigh escaped him before he could stop it.
“Oh, do you feel sorry for me or something? I hate that.”
Hermia pouted immediately at his reaction. He chuckled lightly and shook his head.
“Not at all.”
“Really, not even a little?”
“I was thinking about how I want to kiss you.”
Walter, having softened his impure thoughts, lightly tapped his knee. His clever wife understood his intention at once and quickly came over to sit on the spot he offered.
Naturally, as he wrapped his arm around her waist, Hermia put hers around his neck. Her cheeks, tinted by the glow of the sunset, flushed as if she suddenly felt shy and looked down.
“…Is this a curse? Why am I doing things I don’t normally do?”
Walter let out a low chuckle and gave a silly excuse.
“I thought it wouldn’t be so bad to be one of the people who’ve sat in this chair.”
He said that much, then kissed Hermia directly as she looked up at him, puzzled.
What began as a soft, feathery bird kiss gradually grew warmer. Walter’s hand reached for the string of her dress.
“Master.”
Their gazes turned at the same time toward the closed door.
From outside, Emily knocked and politely informed them that the dinner reservation had been made. Her footsteps, equally polite, faded as she walked away.
“……”
“Walter, are you hungry?”
Hermia asked in the same way she had before. Walter easily understood what she meant, but this time, unfortunately, he couldn’t give in.
“You skipped lunch, so you must have a proper dinner.”
“Pff.”
Her lips stuck out sulkily, slightly swollen. Walter gently wiped away the smudged makeup from the corner of her mouth with his finger, helped Hermia to her feet, and then stood up himself.
“Please wait in the lobby. I’ll be right out.”
“I’m not hungry. Really.”
Her grumbling voice followed him as he walked into the bathroom.
Closing the door, Walter let out a long sigh. The one who truly regretted it was him.
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“Twenty-two people came, and he only charged 20,000 Perso per person? Grandpa’s lost his mind!”
A noble group, no less, had come to their rundown inn where only flies used to gather, and he charged just 20,000 Perso? Outrageous!
Maggie, the innkeeper’s granddaughter and the one who handled all the chores, jumped in fury.
“He should have charged at least 100,000 each! We could’ve lived off that for two months!”
“Hey now, you rascal… You can’t run a business like that… How many times do I have to tell you that business is built on trust…”
“Grandpa, are you stupid? You think they’ll ever come back here? They only came because the hotel is under renovation! Why worry about trust with people who just wandered in!”
Maggie beat her chest in frustration, almost looking like she was about to cry.
“Wasting such a great opportunity. I can’t live with you, Grandpa!”
No, wait. Maybe she could go upstairs and say there was a mistake. Say one zero was missing, that Grandpa’s mind has been slipping, and he miscalculated…
While she was seriously debating this, the guests began coming down the stairs one by one. They were probably heading out for dinner.
Maggie narrowed her eyes at a noble lady descending behind a few maids. According to Grandpa, a young noble couple had come. That must be the wife.
‘She’s disgustingly pretty.’
She was so stunning that Maggie, who prided herself as the village beauty, suddenly felt plain. On top of that, the woman looked young—more like a maiden than a proper lady.
Feeling a strange sense of inferiority, Maggie forced a calm smile.
“Welcome again to The Night of the Wolf. I’m Maggie Hudson, the mistress of this place.”
“Oh, yes. Miss Hudson.”
Even her voice was like a songbird. Keeping her professional smile, Maggie politely clasped her hands.
“I’m truly sorry to bring this up suddenly, but my grandfather actually made a mistake with the lodging fee…”
“Pardon?”
“It wasn’t 20,000 Perso per person, but actually 100,000…”
“What did you say?”
“No, 50,000 Perso…”
Did she imagine that flash of menace? Maggie flinched and instinctively lowered the price.
The noble lady stared at her intently. Just as Maggie began to regret speaking up, the woman finally opened her mouth.
“30,000.”
“…Sorry?”
“Make it 30,000. The old man did make a mistake.”
Maggie understood immediately.
This woman… she’s one of my kind.
“A-alright. Then, 10,000 more per person. That’s 220,000 total…”
“200,000. Take 2,000 off as a courtesy.”
Maggie revised her judgment. This woman was a bigger savage than her. A noble acting this stingy!
The savage pulled out some bills from her purse, stared at them for a moment, then put them back.
“My husband will be down soon. Oh, there he is. Walter!”
