“Buy some matches, sir! These are magic matches that never go out once lit!”

A boy selling matches called out to a passing gentleman but froze mid-shout when he spotted Hailey approaching from a distance. His eyes widened, and he pointed at her with his finger, mouth agape.

“Ah!”

Hailey stopped walking at the sudden, accusatory gesture and stared at the boy. Her sharp eyes softened with curiosity.

Hmm…

He seemed familiar, though she couldn’t immediately recall why. The boy frowned and spoke in a resentful tone.

“Newspaper thief!”

“Ah.”

Hailey finally remembered who he was. Awkwardly averting her gaze, she tried to walk past him as if she didn’t recognize him.

But the boy trailed after her, muttering indignantly.

“Because you didn’t pay for the newspaper that day, my little brother went hungry.”

It wasn’t entirely Hailey’s fault. Selling one less newspaper wouldn’t have ruined the boy’s day—he had simply been unlucky.

That day, the fast-paced vendors had already swept through the square before he got there.

Still, the boy couldn’t help but feel resentful. Perhaps he even entertained the faint hope that she might pay him back after all this time. If she did, the money would go straight into his pocket.

Hailey abruptly stopped walking, and the boy froze on the spot, startled.

Fearing she might scold him, he glanced nervously around, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

Hailey looked at him, perplexed, before carefully asking, “Are you the head of your family?”

The boy tilted his head, not understanding the word “head.” Hailey rephrased her question with a patient expression.

“Where are your parents?”

It was a blunt and invasive question, but the boy answered without hesitation.

“Father’s never been around, and Mother’s too sick to work. So, I have to earn money for my brother’s dinner.”

He added matter-of-factly, “I have to sell twenty newspapers just to make half a copper coin. To buy bread, I’d need to sell at least a hundred. But that day, I only sold fifty.”

Hailey glanced at the shabby bag slung over his shoulder, filled with matches instead of newspapers today.

Moments like these reminded Hailey starkly that she was not from this world.

In the world she came from, children were to be protected, not burdened with the responsibility of survival.

Yet here, children younger than Hailey were working and worrying about their next meal. This boy, barely ten years old, had to support his sick mother and younger brother.

Hailey bit her lip and searched through the inner pocket of her coat. She handed an envelope to the boy.

“Then, would you run an errand for me?”

The boy looked at Hailey with suspicious eyes.

“All you have to do is deliver this letter to Daniel Salmon, a student at the Royal Academy. And this is your payment for the errand.”

Hailey pulled out a coin from her pocket and held it out to him.

“This is 5 copper!”

The boy’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the coin. It was an amount he would only earn after selling 200 newspapers. He cast a greedy glance at the coin but still looked at her warily.

“You’re giving me 5 copper just to deliver a letter? That’s enough to buy two loaves of bread!”

Hailey found herself liking the boy’s cautiousness. He seemed sharp enough not to be easily swindled.

She shrugged and offered an awkward smile.

“I’m sorry about last time. I didn’t have any money then. Luckily, I just got my wages today, so I have some to spare. Think of it as an apology.”

The boy’s mouth fell open, clearly stunned by her apology. Hailey was a noblewoman dressed in a silk gown, while he was a commoner who sold matches. There was an unbridgeable gap between their worlds. And yet, here she was, sincerely apologizing to him.

“What if I just take the money and don’t deliver the letter? Normally, you’re supposed to give half upfront and the other half after the errand is done,” the boy grumbled.

Hailey laughed out loud at his nagging. The scruffy yet clever boy was quickly growing on her.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“…Eddie,” the boy muttered hesitantly. Hailey looked down at him with a warm gaze.

“Well, Eddie, will you accept my apology?”

“Alright.”

Eddie nodded and quickly snatched the coin and the envelope from her hand, as if afraid she might change her mind.

“Who am I supposed to deliver this to again? Daniel Sharman?”

“Salmon. Daniel Salmon—he’s my brother. My name is Hailey Salmon.”

“Got it.”

Eddie rubbed the tip of his nose with his finger, looking sheepish as if he felt bad about accusing her earlier. He stole a few shy glances at her.

Hailey chuckled at his hesitation.

“I need to send letters to my brother every three days. Could I hire you regularly for this errand? I’ll pay you 3 copper each time.”

“What?”

Eddie’s eyes grew even wider. Getting paid 3 copper every three days meant at least one day without worrying about food. He seemed overwhelmed with guilt and gratitude.

“Where do you live, miss?”

“Every three days, just come to the Duke of Gunner’s mansion,” Hailey said, pointing to the mansion on the hill. Its turquoise gabled roof could be seen in the distance. Eddie’s face turned ghostly pale.

“The cursed Duke?”

Eddie was torn between the allure of 3 copper and his apparent fear. Hailey, understanding what frightened him, reassured him.

“You won’t need to enter the mansion. I’ll leave the letter with the gatekeeper, Peter, so you can pick it up from him.”

“…Alright.”

Eddie finally nodded, relieved. Then, his curiosity got the better of him.

“But do you really live in the cursed mansion?”

“Yes, it’s also the residence of the Duke of Gunner. I’m currently working there.”

“But people say everyone in that mansion is cursed.”

Hailey couldn’t help but feel bitter. To the public, the Duke of Gunner was seen as a monster—something entirely different from a regular human being.

Granted, his personality was difficult to deal with, but he was an ordinary human, just like Hailey, and even Eddie. He couldn’t turn people into statues, steal souls, or eat hearts.

“Do I look cursed to you?” Hailey asked.

“Um… no.”

After scrutinizing her for a moment, Eddie shook his head. Hailey smiled knowingly, as if she had expected that response.

“Rumors are always exaggerated.”

“So, is it also a lie that the Duke kills women to break his curse?”

“You’ve read the newspapers, haven’t you? Those articles are worse than third-rate novels,” Hailey replied with a frown. Eddie shrugged casually.

“I can’t read. I don’t know how.”

Hailey stared at Eddie’s face. His worn-out clothes, covered in soot, and the freckles scattered across his cheeks like spilled sugar made him look scrappy. Yet, his sharp brown eyes sparkled with intelligence.

“Well, I’ll be off now,” Eddie said.

“No rush. Just make sure to deliver it today. You don’t need to come back to the mansion to report when you’re done. Just return in three days,” Hailey instructed.

“…Are you a saint, miss?” Eddie asked suddenly.

Eddie’s eyes grew wide at the absurdly generous offer.

“Ahaha,” Hailey laughed brightly, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

“I’m counting on you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” Eddie replied confidently, tucking the letter into his bag and turning away.

After taking a few steps, the boy stopped and looked back at her, as though doubting whether this was all real or just a dream. Hailey waved lightly at him, and only then did Eddie’s face relax. He quickened his pace and called out.

“I’ll be back!”

Hailey slowly lowered her hand as Eddie’s figure disappeared into the distance. She stood there for a moment, looking around as if lost in thought.

“What am I supposed to do now?” she muttered to herself.

Just then, a familiar face flashed across her vision. A head of green hair left a vivid impression in her mind.

“That person is…”

He disappeared swiftly into the crowd of bustling passersby. Before she knew it, Hailey’s body moved faster than her thoughts.

“Excuse me!”

She ran toward the man, but he seemed oblivious to her voice, moving farther away as he was swallowed by the throng of people.

Hailey pushed her way through the crowd, struggling like a salmon swimming upstream.

The man—she had seen him just before she discovered the body. He might be holding onto a secret. It wasn’t a logical deduction but more of an instinctive hunch.

Her pace quickened.

“Wait! Please stop! Oops, I’m sorry!”

“Oh dear.”

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” an old woman reassured her after they accidentally bumped shoulders. Hailey apologized and looked around desperately, only to realize the man had vanished.

She whipped her head left and right, scanning the area. But the green hair was nowhere to be seen.

“Huh, where is this?”

It was only then that she noticed her surroundings felt oddly familiar. She murmured under her breath, her tone meaningful.

“Tiffler Street.”

The street of drunkards. It was also the place where she had found Misha’s body. Hailey’s expression hardened, and her grip on her parasol tightened.

“There must be something here,” she whispered, steeling herself.

Taking a deep breath, she cautiously stepped onto Tiffler Street. A passing man cast a curious glance at her, as her refined presence starkly contrasted with the surroundings.

Hailey raised her gaze to the store in front of her, her lips set in a firm line. The wooden signboard swayed slightly in the breeze, creaking as it hung from its iron bar.

Clatter. Clatter.

“The Drunken Whale.”

Even the name of the place felt ominous. Hailey was still unsure if coming here was the right decision. Her eyes wavered with uncertainty.

Who was the green-haired man who emerged from the alley? Who was Anderson? How did he know her? And how did he know she worked at the Gunner estate? Were the green-haired man and Anderson connected? Were they somehow linked to Misha’s case?

To catch a tiger, one must enter its den, she thought.

Hailey took another deep breath and fixed her gaze on the store. Just then—

“What’s a fine lady like you doing here? Planning to head inside? Care to join me for a drink?”

“!”

A gap-toothed man, reeking of alcohol and swaying slightly, stumbled toward her with a leering grin. Hailey, startled, gripped her parasol tightly and glared at him, her eyes flashing with defiance.

“Pfft, fine, suit yourself,” the man muttered, shrinking back under her fierce gaze and shuffling away.