“Um, bed. Do you want to sleep with me?”
The man who had been observing the end of Ayla's sentences chuckled and asked back in a soft voice.
“Why do you want to receive the prize?”
"Yes?"
"I don't understand why I have to sleep with you for compensation. It's unreasonable and unclean, like free service."
Ayla was visibly taken aback by the unexpected remark. He was a man who didn't consider sleeping with many women to be something to be proud of or valued.
Quite the opposite. Spending the night with just anyone was considered unsophisticated and demeaning.
Ayla had the idea that men would not refuse to sleep with a woman if she asked them to.
Of course, this man was overly attractive, but since so many men, regardless of their social status, had been flirting with her, she assumed he would respond.
"Ah..."
Noah slowly tilted his head as he watched her stammer and was at a loss for words.
“Do you think you are worth it, or do you see me as an asshole who sleeps with any woman?”
It was a harsh remark, laced with obvious discomfort. Ayla shut her mouth and watched as his face grew colder, as if the mask of his smile was slipping away.
Noah nervously swatted away Ayla's hand that was holding his sleeve and shook it off as if it were unclean, and continued speaking as if warning her.
“If you touch me without permission one more time, I won’t let you go.”
Ayla, who had been stepping back with a blank expression, only then noticed the ring on his ring finger.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had a partner.”
A proud, cynical nobleman to the core. This was the impression of Noah that was deeply engraved in Ayla's mind.
He was different from the nobles and upper-class men who pretended to be gentlemen, offering kindness in exchange for a reward, and playing tricks. Ayla realized that this noble man was offended and offended by being placed on the same level as them.
She clasped her hands together and apologized, then pleaded again.
"I get beaten every day, and I'm starving. The bullying is getting worse day by day, and it's so painful."
Emotional appeals were useless to him. She simply carried on with a cool, composed tone.
"That's the result of your own choices, isn't it? You have to resolve it yourself. I think it's just cause and effect for you, a worthless person who sleeps with just anyone."
She bit her lip at the realistic words that hit the nail on the head.
"I, I didn't want to live like this either. I didn't choose anything."
"Then you shouldn't have lived like that. Not choosing is also a choice."
“You, who have never experienced hardships while living as a noble young master, don’t know. Your lover must have felt the same way.”
Noah looked down at Ayla with pitiful eyes.
"My lover? She's been through hell all her life. I didn't even rescue her completely. She used me for her own good, and she only asked for help once, right before she died."
He bent down and looked at her face closely, then paused for a moment before continuing.
“You, like everyone else, have a mouth to speak, a head to judge, and legs to run away, but you don’t take action, do you?”
Noah took a pistol out of his coat pocket and put the muzzle to her forehead, smiling kindly.
“Yes, run away until I count to three. Or you die.”
He proposed with a cheerful expression. He was as innocent as a young boy suggesting a dangerous game.
The feeling of the cold muzzle of a gun shoved into her forehead without any filter, and the black metal object right in front of her nose made Ayla's sky-blue eyes seem to have dried up even the tears.
She looked silently at the beautiful madman who was smiling leisurely, her complexion so pale that she looked blue.
She felt terrified at the sight of the man who had transformed from an angel to a devil in an instant, and began to tremble and pray.
It was a mistake. It was a mistake to judge only by appearances.
“Please save me...”
"One."
“Please, save me.”
"Two."
The corners of the man's mouth twisted strangely upward. The sound of the safety catch being released was like a death knell, sending chills down her spine.
Ayla shut her eyes tightly and turned and ran. The man's snickering sound grew distant. A chill ran down her spine, and her legs tingled, wondering when he might fire at her.
When Ayla, who had been running away with her legs twisted and falling over several times, glanced back, there was no one there.
“Can you tell me what underwear you wore to the prom?”
The Queen's direct question nearly made me spit out my tea. I was at an afternoon tea party, sitting there, seemingly a mere table decoration, just eating pastries.
Suddenly, the Queen asks about the color of the underwear, or rather, about the underwear.
“Underwear... you mean clothes?”
"Yes. Many women were wondering that day why there wasn't any stylish underwear to wear under such a sheer dress."
My face flushed as the woman sitting with me kept looking at my chest.
“Ah, that’s...”
I asked my maid for paper and a pen, and explained it to her diligently, even drawing a picture. As an island nation, Medea thrives on trade and import/export businesses, making it quite open to new cultures and innovations.
“So that’s why it was so voluminous that day.”
A woman clapped her hands and made a face like she had solved a mystery that had not been solved before.
"Would you be interested in selling with me? I'm running a clothing business with royal investment."
Baroness Mason, wearing a coral silk dress with silk chiffon overlays, asked with shining eyes. Her attire always exuded style and flair.
Aha, so this is how you can make money. I nodded happily.
"I'm embarrassed to say I'm completely ignorant of business. How about giving me some materials, drawings, and initial design samples, and paying me a fee?"
"That's a good deal. Then I think you should file for a patent first. Please make time for it later, Miss Diana."
The women, who had been listening to our conversation with interest, asked about the fitting and seemed excited with anticipation.
After the tea party, as I was walking down the hallway toward the main lobby, I bumped into a maid carrying a pile of laundry so thick she couldn't see in front of her.
"Sorry!"
Apparently, I had entered the maids' only passageway. The maid, startled, bowed, apologized, and picked up the fallen laundry.
As she busily picked up laundry, a faint bruise appeared on her slender wrist beneath the sleeve that had been pushed up slightly. I grabbed her wrist and rolled up the sleeve to examine it.
There was a long, dark line running down the wall, as if struck by something like a whip.
“Did someone hit you?”
“Oh, no. I fell, and that’s why.”
The face of the maid, who looked pale, turned even paler as she turned away, but anyone who saw it could tell that she had been forced to do so.
"Is it so?"
Since she hadn't spoken up, I figured there was no point in bothering her anymore, so I let go of her wrist and walked past her. And soon I forgot about her.
As I entered the central lobby, I saw the back of a slender gentleman in a suit, holding a black umbrella and a spring coat draped over his arm, in front of a statue.
“Noah, have you been waiting long?”
Noah turned around at my call and smiled prettily.
“No. I’ve been waiting so long to see you.”
"Yes?"
I don't know if it was a unique joke here, like saying, "I've been waiting a long time." Noah held out his elbow as if to ask me to link arms, and his face looked strangely excited.
"I'm going to see the new house today. If the Princess likes it, I'll sell it right away."
“What kind of house is it?”
"This four-story mansion was once home to a wealthy Count family. It has a spacious garden and a lake. It faces south, so it gets plenty of natural light."
As I followed Noah, who was explaining things like a real estate agent, I noticed the dazed maid I'd seen earlier standing in the distance, staring blankly in my direction. Her expression was strange. It was a strange mixture of fear, puzzlement, and envy.
I glanced at her, then back at Noah, and asked about the doctor who had gone to the hospital to receive treatment.
"Molly will bring you back later. She'll be seeing a great psychiatrist, so you'll be fine in no time."
Noah followed my gaze, then looked toward the maid before answering. An unbearable discomfort lingered in his clouded blue eyes, but it vanished the moment he looked in my direction.
“Do you know the maid who was just standing there?”
Noah smiled and nodded in response to my question.
“Yes. The Marquis of Wales’s government.”
“This is a government with a job.”
I don't know if the Marquis exerted his power to secure her the position of palace maid. I usually thought that the government would receive material support, indulge in extravagance, and just fight with their wives or have fun.
“Did that woman ask the Princess for help?”
“No. I asked her because she had a bruise, but she didn’t answer.”
“Yeah, she asked me for help.”
“So you decided to help?”
Noah stared at me expressionlessly at my somewhat cold voice.
"No. The moment you help someone, responsibility follows. If you expect anything more, it becomes a hassle, and it wasn't worth helping."
I nodded in agreement, having heard the shameless nonsense, "You're rich, so you can do this much, right?" many times.
The world teaches us to do good deeds, but what good is that if the other person isn't kind? It's right to help others based on their perspective.
It was obvious why she kept her mouth shut and only asked Noah for help. If it weren't for the government title, there wouldn't have been such prejudice.
“I see you asked her to do something dirty.”
He chuckled. It seemed to be a positive gesture.
"If I helped that woman, you would have thought so, whether it was true or not."
“Yes, that’s right. I would have asked you.”
“So you like it.”
He spoke with a look of renewed love. Seeing this man's expression, suddenly sweetly confessing in an unexpected place, I thought it was so cute. I guess I'm a strange woman, too.
Dressed in a plain, plain dress and an old cape, Ayla boarded the train and headed to the place where the terrifying murderer who had been scaring the Princess so much was said to be.
Arriving at Hex City, southwest of Medea, she bought a loaf of bread for a penny each, ate it, and boarded a stagecoach.
The carriage, rattling along, entered a quiet forest path. As the forest thickened and people became scarce, Ayla's face hardened.
The exterior of the mansion, located on the outskirts of the deep forest, was luxurious, but it felt like time itself had died, and there was a sense of stillness and emptiness.
Ayla took a steady step, clutching her bag in her hand. She entered the mansion. There were no maids or butlers in sight. The moment she entered the foyer, the pungent smell of blood assaulted her nostrils.
“Is there anyone here?”
It was a question she hoped no one would answer, but the sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs could be heard from upstairs.
A man was seen leisurely coming down the stairs from the second floor.
They say demons possess beautiful appearances that captivate people. Like the man named Noah. A man with dazzling blond hair and turquoise eyes like the peacocks she'd seen in the Princess's jewelry box stared at her.
“Please come in here.”
A man with a clean appearance that was strangely unbelievable, yet strangely suited to the modifiers of murderer and murderer, smiled benevolently.
Ayla felt a sense of unease and discomfort. From somewhere, she heard the voice of Noah, who had pointed a gun at her, as if it were an auditory hallucination.
“Run away before I count to three, or you die.”
The man who had been observing the end of Ayla's sentences chuckled and asked back in a soft voice.
“Why do you want to receive the prize?”
"Yes?"
"I don't understand why I have to sleep with you for compensation. It's unreasonable and unclean, like free service."
Ayla was visibly taken aback by the unexpected remark. He was a man who didn't consider sleeping with many women to be something to be proud of or valued.
Quite the opposite. Spending the night with just anyone was considered unsophisticated and demeaning.
Ayla had the idea that men would not refuse to sleep with a woman if she asked them to.
Of course, this man was overly attractive, but since so many men, regardless of their social status, had been flirting with her, she assumed he would respond.
"Ah..."
Noah slowly tilted his head as he watched her stammer and was at a loss for words.
“Do you think you are worth it, or do you see me as an asshole who sleeps with any woman?”
It was a harsh remark, laced with obvious discomfort. Ayla shut her mouth and watched as his face grew colder, as if the mask of his smile was slipping away.
His eyes, now bloodshot and fierce, scanned her up and down as if slicing her apart.
“If you touch me without permission one more time, I won’t let you go.”
Ayla, who had been stepping back with a blank expression, only then noticed the ring on his ring finger.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had a partner.”
A proud, cynical nobleman to the core. This was the impression of Noah that was deeply engraved in Ayla's mind.
He was different from the nobles and upper-class men who pretended to be gentlemen, offering kindness in exchange for a reward, and playing tricks. Ayla realized that this noble man was offended and offended by being placed on the same level as them.
She clasped her hands together and apologized, then pleaded again.
"I get beaten every day, and I'm starving. The bullying is getting worse day by day, and it's so painful."
Emotional appeals were useless to him. She simply carried on with a cool, composed tone.
"That's the result of your own choices, isn't it? You have to resolve it yourself. I think it's just cause and effect for you, a worthless person who sleeps with just anyone."
She bit her lip at the realistic words that hit the nail on the head.
"I, I didn't want to live like this either. I didn't choose anything."
"Then you shouldn't have lived like that. Not choosing is also a choice."
“You, who have never experienced hardships while living as a noble young master, don’t know. Your lover must have felt the same way.”
Noah looked down at Ayla with pitiful eyes.
"My lover? She's been through hell all her life. I didn't even rescue her completely. She used me for her own good, and she only asked for help once, right before she died."
He bent down and looked at her face closely, then paused for a moment before continuing.
“You, like everyone else, have a mouth to speak, a head to judge, and legs to run away, but you don’t take action, do you?”
Noah took a pistol out of his coat pocket and put the muzzle to her forehead, smiling kindly.
“Yes, run away until I count to three. Or you die.”
He proposed with a cheerful expression. He was as innocent as a young boy suggesting a dangerous game.
The feeling of the cold muzzle of a gun shoved into her forehead without any filter, and the black metal object right in front of her nose made Ayla's sky-blue eyes seem to have dried up even the tears.
She looked silently at the beautiful madman who was smiling leisurely, her complexion so pale that she looked blue.
She felt terrified at the sight of the man who had transformed from an angel to a devil in an instant, and began to tremble and pray.
It was a mistake. It was a mistake to judge only by appearances.
“Please save me...”
"One."
“Please, save me.”
"Two."
The corners of the man's mouth twisted strangely upward. The sound of the safety catch being released was like a death knell, sending chills down her spine.
Ayla shut her eyes tightly and turned and ran. The man's snickering sound grew distant. A chill ran down her spine, and her legs tingled, wondering when he might fire at her.
When Ayla, who had been running away with her legs twisted and falling over several times, glanced back, there was no one there.
***
“Can you tell me what underwear you wore to the prom?”
The Queen's direct question nearly made me spit out my tea. I was at an afternoon tea party, sitting there, seemingly a mere table decoration, just eating pastries.
Suddenly, the Queen asks about the color of the underwear, or rather, about the underwear.
“Underwear... you mean clothes?”
"Yes. Many women were wondering that day why there wasn't any stylish underwear to wear under such a sheer dress."
My face flushed as the woman sitting with me kept looking at my chest.
“Ah, that’s...”
I asked my maid for paper and a pen, and explained it to her diligently, even drawing a picture. As an island nation, Medea thrives on trade and import/export businesses, making it quite open to new cultures and innovations.
“So that’s why it was so voluminous that day.”
A woman clapped her hands and made a face like she had solved a mystery that had not been solved before.
"Would you be interested in selling with me? I'm running a clothing business with royal investment."
Baroness Mason, wearing a coral silk dress with silk chiffon overlays, asked with shining eyes. Her attire always exuded style and flair.
Aha, so this is how you can make money. I nodded happily.
"I'm embarrassed to say I'm completely ignorant of business. How about giving me some materials, drawings, and initial design samples, and paying me a fee?"
"That's a good deal. Then I think you should file for a patent first. Please make time for it later, Miss Diana."
The women, who had been listening to our conversation with interest, asked about the fitting and seemed excited with anticipation.
After the tea party, as I was walking down the hallway toward the main lobby, I bumped into a maid carrying a pile of laundry so thick she couldn't see in front of her.
"Sorry!"
Apparently, I had entered the maids' only passageway. The maid, startled, bowed, apologized, and picked up the fallen laundry.
As she busily picked up laundry, a faint bruise appeared on her slender wrist beneath the sleeve that had been pushed up slightly. I grabbed her wrist and rolled up the sleeve to examine it.
There was a long, dark line running down the wall, as if struck by something like a whip.
“Did someone hit you?”
“Oh, no. I fell, and that’s why.”
The face of the maid, who looked pale, turned even paler as she turned away, but anyone who saw it could tell that she had been forced to do so.
"Is it so?"
Since she hadn't spoken up, I figured there was no point in bothering her anymore, so I let go of her wrist and walked past her. And soon I forgot about her.
As I entered the central lobby, I saw the back of a slender gentleman in a suit, holding a black umbrella and a spring coat draped over his arm, in front of a statue.
“Noah, have you been waiting long?”
Noah turned around at my call and smiled prettily.
“No. I’ve been waiting so long to see you.”
"Yes?"
I don't know if it was a unique joke here, like saying, "I've been waiting a long time." Noah held out his elbow as if to ask me to link arms, and his face looked strangely excited.
"I'm going to see the new house today. If the Princess likes it, I'll sell it right away."
“What kind of house is it?”
"This four-story mansion was once home to a wealthy Count family. It has a spacious garden and a lake. It faces south, so it gets plenty of natural light."
As I followed Noah, who was explaining things like a real estate agent, I noticed the dazed maid I'd seen earlier standing in the distance, staring blankly in my direction. Her expression was strange. It was a strange mixture of fear, puzzlement, and envy.
I glanced at her, then back at Noah, and asked about the doctor who had gone to the hospital to receive treatment.
"Molly will bring you back later. She'll be seeing a great psychiatrist, so you'll be fine in no time."
Noah followed my gaze, then looked toward the maid before answering. An unbearable discomfort lingered in his clouded blue eyes, but it vanished the moment he looked in my direction.
“Do you know the maid who was just standing there?”
Noah smiled and nodded in response to my question.
“Yes. The Marquis of Wales’s government.”
“This is a government with a job.”
I don't know if the Marquis exerted his power to secure her the position of palace maid. I usually thought that the government would receive material support, indulge in extravagance, and just fight with their wives or have fun.
“Did that woman ask the Princess for help?”
“No. I asked her because she had a bruise, but she didn’t answer.”
“Yeah, she asked me for help.”
“So you decided to help?”
Noah stared at me expressionlessly at my somewhat cold voice.
"No. The moment you help someone, responsibility follows. If you expect anything more, it becomes a hassle, and it wasn't worth helping."
I nodded in agreement, having heard the shameless nonsense, "You're rich, so you can do this much, right?" many times.
The world teaches us to do good deeds, but what good is that if the other person isn't kind? It's right to help others based on their perspective.
It was obvious why she kept her mouth shut and only asked Noah for help. If it weren't for the government title, there wouldn't have been such prejudice.
“I see you asked her to do something dirty.”
He chuckled. It seemed to be a positive gesture.
"If I helped that woman, you would have thought so, whether it was true or not."
“Yes, that’s right. I would have asked you.”
“So you like it.”
He spoke with a look of renewed love. Seeing this man's expression, suddenly sweetly confessing in an unexpected place, I thought it was so cute. I guess I'm a strange woman, too.
***
Dressed in a plain, plain dress and an old cape, Ayla boarded the train and headed to the place where the terrifying murderer who had been scaring the Princess so much was said to be.
Arriving at Hex City, southwest of Medea, she bought a loaf of bread for a penny each, ate it, and boarded a stagecoach.
The carriage, rattling along, entered a quiet forest path. As the forest thickened and people became scarce, Ayla's face hardened.
The exterior of the mansion, located on the outskirts of the deep forest, was luxurious, but it felt like time itself had died, and there was a sense of stillness and emptiness.
Ayla took a steady step, clutching her bag in her hand. She entered the mansion. There were no maids or butlers in sight. The moment she entered the foyer, the pungent smell of blood assaulted her nostrils.
“Is there anyone here?”
It was a question she hoped no one would answer, but the sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs could be heard from upstairs.
A man was seen leisurely coming down the stairs from the second floor.
They say demons possess beautiful appearances that captivate people. Like the man named Noah. A man with dazzling blond hair and turquoise eyes like the peacocks she'd seen in the Princess's jewelry box stared at her.
“Please come in here.”
A man with a clean appearance that was strangely unbelievable, yet strangely suited to the modifiers of murderer and murderer, smiled benevolently.
Ayla felt a sense of unease and discomfort. From somewhere, she heard the voice of Noah, who had pointed a gun at her, as if it were an auditory hallucination.
“Run away before I count to three, or you die.”
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