The next morning.
When I arrived at the backyard to do the laundry, I was surprised by the view of the garden at first glance.
In two days, the garden of the Weatherwood mansion was becoming quite good. Except for that first time, no other worker had come since the first day and yet all the dead weeds had disappeared and the ground had been covered with soft earth.
I thought he'd taken any position just to enter the mansion. And his cooking skills. Why were there so many things he was good at? He was even more suspicious. When I tried to recall the beauty that moved my heart, I remembered last night's message about the potatoes. At that moment, I made eye contact with Rue, who was passing by with a shovel.
He waved to me just in time. "Come here, Miss Maid."
I wish I could ignore him. We need to interact to discover what kind of person he is. I stopped putting the clothes in the basket and approached Rue. And when I was close enough, I said in a sullen voice, "Daisy."
Rue, who had turned his back to the front door stairs, looked at me with strange eyes. Then I opened my mouth again in front of his bright face. "My name."
"...Ah."
Rue stood in front of me with a kind smile that he seemed to have by habit. "Very well, Miss Daisy, the maid. We finally got a proper name in three days. The only way to describe the pace of progress in our relationship is that it's excellent."
If everything sounded sarcastic, was it the speaker's problem or the listener's?
"I'll leave this pot to you."
I unconsciously accepted the small brown pot from Rue. It was a pot full of moist soil that looked good at a glance.
"Are you giving it to me?"
"Please try to make something bloom in the pot; anything is fine. Replanting a plant in this place is forbidden. Instead, start with seeds, not seedlings."
"Me? Why?"
When I asked in the middle of my confusion, Rue replied in a tone that sounded as if he'd asked the obvious. "Didn't you say you were curious? About me."
What does that have to do with flowers?
"Unfortunately, my identity is a big secret that many eyes want to know. I don't want anyone to know for free. In that sense, isn't flowering a fairly simple price to pay for it?"
I furrowed my brows and looked at the pot in my arms. Why flowers? It wasn't a children's joke. Was he playing with me right now?
"Do I have to do it now?"
This pot was Rue's first plausible response to my doubts and mistrust. This was the first time he'd given an answer, making it a condition to listen to the answer instead of simply ignoring me like the first day. It might be foolish to say no just because I felt a bit offended.
"If you don't like it, 500 gold."
"500 gold?"
"It's the price of hearing those secrets without flowers."
Was this swindler crazy? Where the hell would I get 500 gold? Do you think that much money would just come out if you started digging? I can't earn that much even if I work 100 years as a maid!
I replied, hugging the pot in my arms. "I'm going to grow them."
"Well thought out."
"Keep your word."
Rue, who smiled affectionately, tapped me on the head. It was the lightest and most natural smile he had ever shown. "Yes, Miss Daisy, the maid. I look forward to seeing what kind of flowers you'll bloom."
That irritating guy.
After looking at Rue's broad back, I left the pot in its original place and went back to collecting the laundry. I decided to stop investigating Rue for now. I hadn't given up on discovering his identity. I was just taking a step back.
In conclusion, as the maid said, it was the best way to observe him for the time being. I had no staff or money to investigate Rue, and the parties involved weren't the type to open their mouths easily; furthermore, I could no longer dominate them and force them to speak. Besides, suspecting is just a feeling. He hasn't done anything yet. It was a waste of mental strength and energy to worry so much about Rue. For now, I'd be content with cooperating with the assassin-butler. Now that I was used to doing maid work, I should focus on collecting information related to Diancecht's relics. Everything had a priority.
"Did you bring the laundry, Daisy?"
"Yes."
"I'll organize it, so go buy the food. I left the list of necessary ingredients and money in the kitchen."
"Yes."
I checked the ingredients to buy as I left the mansion. It was the same list as last time except for the addition of eggs. This time there was no meat, but it wasn't so bad. It was clear that Rue would fill the table with dishes even without meat. He could cook. That talent was the only advantage Rue had.
Before entering the market, I stopped in a narrow alley and crouched in front of a thin old man selling dull vegetables. "Hmm." I saw a potato in poor condition, but I decided to buy it. The old man's poor condition bothered me, and I decided it would be fine if the ingredients were a bit slimy since the chef's skills were quite good.
"Seven potatoes."
The sleeping old man looked at me with eyes wide open. "Eh? Oh, we have a visitor." This old man couldn't go home until he sold a few potatoes. "Thank you, miss. Come again." The old man tilted his head to thank me with his thin body.
After paying for the potatoes, I started counting them as I approached the market. One, two, three... eight. It's not seven, it's eight. The old man seemed to have miscounted the potatoes. I went back my way to return a potato. When I returned, new people had gathered in the alley besides me and the old man. Somehow it was a jarring sight. Oh! This old man has finally made some money.
Three burly men surrounded the old man selling potatoes. The big man in the middle showed his palm to the old man. "Give it to me."
"Hey, look, please wait a month, one month..."
"The merchant association membership fee is more than a week late. Did you think we couldn't get it out of you if you hid in a place like this?"
"I'm just an old man doing small business... the association and such, I've said it several times, I'm not going to join."
At that moment, the man's legs kicked the old man's body violently while he kept his hands in his pockets. The weak old man rolled on the floor without even shouting. The forehead that had been hit was torn from the heel of the shoe and was bleeding.
Perhaps that wasn't enough, so the big man mercilessly trampled on the old man's curved back. "This old bastard. If you can't pay your fees, close your store or get out of our area!" The man with his hands in his trouser pocket spat at the old man. "Never mind. I'll be back tomorrow at the same time, so remember it."
In this way, the old man's small income disappeared into greedy claws. I looked at the old man's unsightly potatoes. He had fewer than twenty. I took at least eight, and about ten were left, and a couple were blue buds. The old man didn't sell potatoes to enjoy wealth and prosperity. He sold potatoes so as not to starve. He was a man who spent another day selling potatoes all day long.
Look at that thin body. If he couldn't sell potatoes for even a day, it was clear the old man would starve and get sick. If he couldn't sell for two days, it would be difficult for the old man to move, and if he couldn't sell for three days, he could reach the threshold of death. These men were killing that old man. They claimed ownership of streets that no one could really possess.
"Hey."
The men looked at me. "What?"
I asked them a question I put my heart into. "From what dumpster did you crawl out of?"
The captain of the trash squad furrowed his brows and approached me swaggering. "Where is this crazy girl from? From the way you dress, you look like a maid. What are you laughing at? Do you want me to forbid you from walking this path? Eh?"
I looked carefully at his cheerful face and nodded. You arrived just in time, guys. Lately I'd been under a lot of stress. I raised my hand and lightly stroked the face of the non-recyclable trash.
The trash, which crashed against the nearby wall, rolled its eyes and fainted. I made the second stunned piece of trash look exactly like the captain's trash.
"Agh."
Only then did the third trash regain its senses and ran away without looking back. Should I catch him or not? The dilemma was brief. Instead of chasing him, I crouched next to the old man and rummaged through the chest of the trash bag with force. "Oh." A bundle of bills came out of his pocket. Was this the merchant association membership fee he was forced to join? It seemed to be the same amount as someone's rent.
"Miss, get up. We have to leave before the others arrive, okay? Come on." The old man, who managed to recover somehow, was surprised that I had knocked down two men, but was busy picking me up and taking me out of the alley. Every time he wiped his bleeding forehead, his sleeve was dyed red.
"They are very scary men, so don't go out like that again. It won't be a big deal if an old man like me dies, but if you get involved in something bad, your parents will be very sad." The wrinkled back of the hand holding my arm still trembled. Fear imprinted directly into the flesh is not easily forgotten.
I looked at the old man's nervous face and remembered how the trash had trampled him, rolled him on the floor, and ruined his potatoes. If I let this end like this, people like this old man would suffer again. Trash's thought group had always been like this. They took their anger out on the weak. They didn't reflect on the suffering they'd caused but used violence to improve their status. The victim would suffer even more damage and this old man would be forced to leave town. "Grandfather." How can you expect me to escape?
"Do you know where these people live?" The old man, who was looking at me with a confused look, pointed to a store on the first floor with a clean exterior above the sidewalk leading to the market.
[Pub, piece of land.] The bar sign had an atmosphere that seemed like the perfect place for thugs to play. It was strange. As far as I knew, pubs in the empire weren't that space. They were a place of refuge for the people. Especially in the southern Empire, which was under the influence of the great wizard Mephisto, pubs were the home of vigilante groups that met voluntarily to protect their hometowns. Those gathered at the pub took up arms to protect their origins, family, and friends. Pubs near the frontline also joined in the village itself to play a role in supply. Their appearance in my memory was full of pride and sadness.
But that's a merchant association. Well, at least it could be useful to me for collecting information. I gave the old man back the price of the potatoes thrown on the ground. "Don't open your store tomorrow. Stay strong." Then, I pulled out some of the bills and crumpled them inside the old man's fist. "Treat your forehead before it gets worse. Stay strong." After throwing the two fallen trashes deep into the alley, I headed back to the market with a bundle of bills in my chest.