“It’s a useless effort. You’re barren.”

“……!”

“You’re a wasteland that can’t sprout a single seedling no matter how many seeds are sown, yet you’re playing these futile games.”

Radilt stared at Merdea with empty eyes, unable to say anything. When children didn’t come quickly in her marriage with Lushen, her mother-in-law had given her disapproving looks. She had heard the nagging words about wanting to see a grandchild as soon as possible.

But this was the first time she had been directly accused, told that she was the problem.

“If your body had been normal, you would have held Lushen’s child in your arms long ago. Everything is your fault. You are the problem, being useless as a woman. So stop your vulgar antics.”

As if she had said all she needed to say, Merdea turned away.

Radilt stood motionless at the door until her mother-in-law’s figure completely disappeared. She could only breathe faintly, unable to say anything. The faint scent of withering peonies caressed her cheeks like smoke.

No tears or sighs came out.

Radilt gently stroked her lower abdomen. She caressed it slowly, slowly, and affectionately, feeling the warmth transmitted through it.

“What an utterly shameless woman!”

Saldat spat harsh words at Radilt, who had taken a day off during a busy period. He barked noisily that they shouldn’t have brought in a woman with no stamina to the workshop in the first place, that she had caught a man well and managed to stay without getting fired, and that she hadn’t been sick but had been rolling around with Lord Duston all day.

Though her ears hurt from his false barking, since it was true that Saldat had taken over some of her work, Radilt apologized without any excuses. She also bowed deeply to Master Philip and the other apprentices.

“When I was young, I hated being told to come out crawling even if I was barely breathing.”

Philip said while personally plucking flower stamens one by one.

“Even then, I thought it was nonsense. No matter how precious the learning, what good is it if I’m not alive to learn and use what I’ve learned?”

Radilt listened carefully to Philip’s words while helping him.

“The center of all things is ultimately ‘me.’ Without me, nothing can be done. Being diligent and working hard, of course that’s good. It’s very commendable. But not to the point of throwing away your own well-being. Taking care of your health should be the priority.”

“……Thank you, Master.”

Philip laughed out loud.

“Those fellows have all taken days off several times, especially that Saldat. He was sick and took two days off just last month. There’s no need to pay attention to his nonsense.”

“Yes. I’ll remember that.”

Every word from Philip was kind and warm. Thinking that she had truly found a good teacher, Radilt wore a faint smile.

“Of course, this luxury is thanks to Lord Duston being our patron.”

“Pardon? Lord Duston?”

At the sudden mention of a familiar name, Radilt looked up at Philip.

“Unless one is wealthy, almost no craftsman is without debt from patronage. When you first open a small shop of your own, it’s all good. But as you move up, the places that need money multiply rapidly.”

Philip laughed, asking if she knew how much a storefront in Blue Runiel Street, where the Langfiel Perfume Shop was located, would cost.

“Rich people don’t think of leaving that street. If I were to open a shop in an ordinary street, my income would instantly drop to a tenth.”

“That much?”

“Not being able to set foot in Blue Runiel Street itself lowers my reputation. In that street, one person might spend ten gold coins in a day, but outside, it’s hard to earn one gold coin even if customers fill the shop all day.”

Philip laughed, saying that was assuming some regulars would remain, making it a tenth.

“But if you settle for a small shop, that’s the end of it. Precious ingredients are literally like flowers on a cliff, and there’s no room to try new things. In the end, you just become a mediocre perfumer.”

It would be an unbearable pain for a craftsman who takes pride in his skills and has a strong desire for improvement.

“So most craftsmen in the streets open workshops in their patron’s commercial buildings and share the profits. And the patrons take anywhere from 70% to 90% of the profits. Why? Because if the craftsmen make money, they’ll run away!”

“That’s…… 90% is……”

It meant losing most of the profit.

“In contrast, Lord Duston takes 50%. If all the initial investment costs have been covered, he sets it at 30%. Moreover, while he’s taking 50%, Lord Duston even pays the apprentices’ wages. The reason I can keep apprentices and give them days off like this is because it doesn’t cost me anything.”

But if we spend recklessly, even the generous Lord Duston would get angry! Philip said cheerfully. Radilt, surprised by these unexpected words, could only nod in agreement.

“That’s also why I couldn’t refuse his absurd request to take you as an apprentice, Lady Brill.”

“I see. I had no idea.”

“Of course, now I think Lord Duston has an excellent eye for people. But then again, he couldn’t have made his business so successful otherwise.”

Recalling the assistant butler upon hearing Philip’s praise-filled words, Radilt remembered that she too had highly regarded Pendlore. Everyone unanimously called him a fair employer and a trustworthy businessman.

‘He was definitely a good person to me yesterday as well.’

I don’t know. He’s a difficult man to understand. Radilt murmured to herself as she carefully immersed the flower stamens in distilled water.

Pendlore Duston is truly a strange man.

* * *

The opening gala of this year’s social season, the day the Gate of Summer opens, was just around the corner. Radilt stood before Pendlore dressed in her gala dress. Her green eyes blinked slightly, appearing somewhat nervous.

The main hall of the Duston mansion was spacious and magnificent. Refined modern trends were elegantly layered over the old-fashioned antiques.

Today, that hall, which could easily accommodate over a hundred guests with room to spare, was occupied by just two people, a man and a woman. At the gala, where the only spectators were the orchestra on the platform, Radilt took Pendlore’s hand.

The violin was the first to slide its strings, beginning the music. The dance tune announcing the start of the gala—Radilt took a short breath at the lively music with a slightly fast tempo.

Though her chest contracted with tension, her feet moved smoothly. Unlike when she had just started learning to dance, she now held her head high and looked directly at her partner.

“Excellent.”

She had been worried due to the tight schedule, but… Seeing a satisfied smile settle lightly on Pendlore’s lips, Radilt instinctively lowered her eyes, pretending not to notice the smile.

“That was a sincere compliment.”

Pendlore whispered, perhaps noticing Radilt’s attitude.

“……Yes. Thank you.”

The hem of her dress twirled around. Radilt naturally surrendered herself to the man’s strong leading hand without being flustered.

A dance of adjusting to each other. The inevitable mixing of heartbeats. The large hand wrapped around her waist made her whole body throb and flush red. That sensation was so vividly intense…

“Ah…!”

For a moment, Radilt’s shoe stumbled and stepped on Pendlore’s foot. Pendlore calmly signaled the orchestra to stop the music.

As the music ceased and silence fell, Radilt’s breathing grew audibly heavier.

“It seems your concentration has wavered. Let’s take a short break and continue later.”

“Yes.”

Pendlore led Radilt to a chair prepared at the side. Their hands were still joined, and his hand still gently wrapped around her waist. From behind, they looked exactly like an affectionate couple.

“At the actual gala, you’ll likely be less nervous.”

Pendlore said as he personally placed round ice cubes into a glass.

“Since many people dance together, minor mistakes are easily overlooked. Many will be watching you, but that’s precisely why they won’t be looking at your feet.”

The man’s hand lifted a glass pitcher full of lemon water. The golden light filtering through the large window merged with the water and spread dazzlingly.

That light halo…

“Everyone will be too busy observing our expressions.”

…wrapped around Pendlore’s lightly smiling cheeks. Along his masculine jawline, along his elegantly arched eyebrows, and beneath them… his eyes, which should have been a dark gray, were as clear and vivid blue as a cloudless sky.

Ah.

Radilt instinctively closed her eyes. The face that rose with a smile against the darkening vision was not Lushen’s.

Her hand tightly gripped the hem of her dress.

It’s because of the light. The light was too dazzling before I closed my eyes.

Yes. This is all because of the sunlight reflected in the lemon water.

* * *

After having lunch with Pendlore Duston, matching steps lightly once more, and receiving yet another bouquet, Radilt returned home in the early afternoon while the sun was still bright.

Perhaps because dinner time was still far off, the house was completely empty. After going up to the second floor, Radilt quietly looked at her bedroom.

The old wardrobe, already full as evidenced by the stacked clothing boxes beside it. The dressing table that never lacked flowers and the velvet-wrapped jewelry box. A few books borrowed from the Duston mansion and Langfiel Workshop were scattered on the desk, and next to it, hats of all colors and shapes were layered on the hat rack.