Radilt also knew about Blue Runiel Street. Her husband, Lushen, had been a promising perfumer who dreamed of opening his own shop on this street someday.

‘We’ll hang a golden oriole with green eyes at the front door.’

Lushen’s hopeful voice filled Radilt’s ears as if it were just yesterday. An aging perfume master raising a new sign on one side of Runiel Street. The gently wrinkled Mrs. Sentangs standing beside him, smiling.

That brilliant dream she had once gently imagined scattered hopelessly in an instant.

Radilt’s eyes wavered deeply. Leading her hand, Pendlore pointed to a shop directly across the street.

“That is the atelier where Mrs. Brill will work.”

A golden canary decoration twirled in the breeze, looking at Radilt. At the former Mrs. Sentangs who had entrusted herself to a man other than her husband. Below it, a beautiful sign with letters drawn in melted gold sparkled in the sunlight.

『Langfiel’s Golden Garden』

On this street, directly revealing the product on the sign was considered vulgar and improper. Therefore, perfume shops used words that evoked fragrance, such as garden, bouquet, wreath, or spring flowers.

In front of the main entrance under the sign, servants stood in a long line. Though called servants, they wore stiff cotton pants with tight leather boots, white shirts with frills topped with sleek jackets like black swallows—appearances no less refined than any gentleman. If they entered Radilt’s neighborhood, they would receive looks wondering if they were noble lords.

The wealthy want even their simple errand-runners to appear elegant. Radilt unconsciously looked down at her shabby dress. Though there was no reason to be ashamed of her everyday clothes, they felt somewhat embarrassing on this street.

Being from such a world, Pendlore’s displeasure with her attire became understandable. I must be more careful from now on. Radilt murmured to herself as she followed Pendlore past the servants, heading around to the side of the building.

Langfiel’s Golden Garden consisted of two connected buildings. The front served as the shop selling products, while the back was a small workshop. Pendlore casually opened the workshop door marked “No Entry Except Personnel.”

“Who is it?”

An elderly voice flowed from the dim interior where light didn’t reach. Pushing aside a thick, long curtain and poking his head out was a dignified old man with neatly combed white hair.

“Oh, Sir Duston. But surely not.”

The old man’s gaze turned toward Radilt standing awkwardly behind Pendlore.

“Is this young lady the apprentice candidate you mentioned to me?”

“Yes.”

Pendlore stepped aside and looked back at Radilt. Radilt quickly bowed her head.

“Pleased to meet you, I am Radilt Brill.”

“Hmm…… please sit down for now.”

The old man roughly cleared the table by the window and placed a water kettle on a small brazier. Pendlore naturally pulled out a chair for Radilt. She sat down, taking in a tense breath.

Golden tea was served to both of them. Instead of tea, the old man drank a glass of clear water in one go and set the cup on the table.

“Philip Langfiel. Just call me Philip. The most successful perfume master on this street.”

Neither Philip’s voice nor expression contained a trace of arrogance as he said this. He spoke matter-of-factly, as if his supremacy were self-evident.

“I made an agreement with Sir Duston, but I have no intention of wasting effort planting and watering metal. I heard you have experience.”

“Yes. My late husband ran a perfume workshop. He was a perfumer, and I learned basic perfume composition while helping him.”

“A wife, then. Makes little difference to my eyes.”

Whether a naive virgin or a mature wife, anyone not gray-haired remained just a young woman to him. Philip poured another glass of water, held it in his mouth briefly, then swallowed. Radilt continued while watching his reaction.

“I was once Mrs. Sentangs. We had a perfume shop called Scenbrill on Silver Yan Street.”

“Scenbrill! Then you are Lushen Sentangs’ wife.”

At Philip’s words, Radilt raised her head that had been slightly lowered in intimidation.

“You know Lushen?”

“Of course I do. He was a young man with rare talent.”

At those words, Radilt’s lips parted slightly. She had met someone who remembered her husband. Someone even praising him. A master craftsman renowned even on this street of elite masters.

Radilt’s green eyes sparkled, and her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Young people hastily put technique first. They start by mixing various things complexly while ignoring the essence of fragrance. But Sentangs was a diligent young man. He never forgot the essence of materials and never neglected to find and study them himself.”

“That’s right. Lushen came all the way to my rural village to verify plants used as perfume ingredients. He said that since fragrance naturally blends with its surroundings, one must also know the smell of the habitat where raw materials grow.”

Philip nodded his head with satisfaction at Radilt’s words.

“Absolutely right. How would fragrance, smell, simply appear? It’s naturally created and absorbed by various plants and animals to survive. Understanding that environment enables more delicate perfume composition.”

Tears welled in Radilt’s eyes as Philip said Lushen’s attitude had caught his eye and made him naturally expect growth. She thought everyone had forgotten. Even family had become blurry beyond memory. Yet here on this dreamlike street was someone who recognized Lushen.

Pride mixed with longing, creating a tingling pain inside her chest.

“Yes. Lushen—”

Bang!

Just then, the tip of Pendlore’s cane struck the floor with a dull sound. Radilt’s words cut off abruptly, and her green eyes widened.

“The small talk grows too long. We lack the leisure for idle chatter, so let’s get to the point.”

His low, cold voice instantly cooled the warmly heated air. Pendlore looked at Radilt and Philip with a resolute gaze.

“Hmm, Sir Duston must be busy with many affairs.”

Philip cleared his throat once and took out paper and a pen. With swift hand movements, he wrote down an address.

“This is the main workshop.”

“Main workshop?”

“This is obviously the sub-workshop. What could you do in this tiny place? Two days at the main workshop, one day at the sub. And one day off.”

Radilt expressed surprise at Philip’s words.

“You rest once every three days?”

“Why would I dedicate my life to work at this age? I’m past the time for that.”

Philip waved his hand as he spoke. He said having one successor allowed him to work more leisurely without problems.

“In the old days, apprentices typically worked seven days a week, but now I don’t even feel like doing that. Mrs. Brill can simply come according to my schedule.”

Philip said tomorrow was his day off, and he needed time to prepare for the new member, so she should come to the main workshop three days later.

“Let’s see, you’ll work from 8 AM to 4 PM.”

“8 o’clock? So late?”

“I can’t entrust newcomers to purchase materials at dawn. Come at 8 to prepare materials. If you shop at dawn markets, you’ll finish by 3-4 PM, otherwise you’ll handle cleanup and finish by 5-6.”

That schedule left plenty of time to prepare both breakfast and dinner. Moreover, the salary Philip offered was nearly triple her previous earnings. The conditions proved so favorable that a smile naturally spread across Radilt’s face.

“Thank you! I’ll work hard—”

“This should suffice.”

A large hand grabbed Radilt’s arm and pulled her to her feet. Pendlore gave Philip a brief nod and practically dragged Radilt outside. The startled Radilt protested.

“Sir Duston! Wait a moment!”

“Your voice lacks affection, Mrs. Brill. Many ears listen in busy daytime streets.”

Radilt quickly closed her mouth at the curious glances from passersby. Pendlore opened the waiting carriage door and helped Radilt in first.

“……You were extremely rude to Master Philip.”

Radilt spoke the moment the carriage door closed. Her green eyes held deep reproach as she looked at the man sitting opposite her.

“I couldn’t even properly thank him.”

“The direction has changed, Mrs. Brill.”

“……What?”

Pendlore leaned his upper body against the chair’s backrest. His relaxed blue-gray gaze turned toward her.

“The person you should thank stands before you. Philip made a deal with me.”

“That’s……”

“Or perhaps you mistakenly thought Master Philip recognized your hidden talent and accepted you as an apprentice.”

Radilt’s hands on her knees clenched into small fists.

“……No.”

Her excited feelings cooled rapidly. Just as Pendlore said, Philip had merely accepted a widow with no particular experience or ability at Count Duston’s request.

The man before her had casually handed her a position beside a great master that countless aspiring perfumers would desperately desire.

“Now that I think about it…… this position is far too generous for me.”

Radilt’s eyes lowered deeply. The corners of her lips trembled slightly.

“A regular perfume shop would be enough. I only need to gain formal apprentice experience. I—”

“The former Mrs. Sentangs might sit pathetically in a shabby corner shop, casting pitiful glances at passersby, and I wouldn’t care at all.”

The corner of Pendlore’s lips turned up coldly.

“But not Mrs. Brill, my lover.”

A tiny shop without even a master’s title, not even a proper apprentice or employee. He couldn’t tolerate such an unsightly appearance.

Between Lushen Sentangs’ wife and Pendlore Duston’s lover, an unbridgeable gap must exist.

Though his words sounded arrogant, his voice remained calm as if stating obvious facts. That’s why Radilt’s clenched fists turned pale with tension. Prominent blue veins showed instead of unspoken protests.

This man and Lushen were, yes, incomparable. Even Merdea with her excessive love for her son would struggle to claim her eldest son was superior.

So she had to endure. Stubbornly challenging him would only bring embarrassment.

“Yes, Sir Duston. I understand perfectly. However, I always wish to be Mrs. Sentangs. Even in dreams, I long for that warm place.”