Trigger warning: hints of ableism, mentions of prostitution and violence
From that day on, all of Cadisâ citizens had gathered and told that story.
Rather than when the lord took over or when the duchess suddenly appeared, this was a better topic.
The entrance to the side road, where even the shadows did not come easily. A dark red sunset permeated the shabby, dusty tavern.
It was full of cheap music and vulgar conversation.
The dwarf farmer chuckled as he set the wooden beer mug down on the round table with a tooth missing.
So, a woman who became a nobleman because her rich father bribed people. All of that is obviously nonsense!
A tall, slender guy sitting across from him shook his head.
âI thought a saint appeared in the city. I memorized everything Madam said. Did you listen?â
âYou say funny things. Can you put me in your compliments too?â
A suspicious man in a black robe lowered his hood and intervened.
âRumor has it that the duchess entered the city?â
He had a majestic stature and hair as bright red as flames. He was smiling cheerfully, but he somewhat had a belligerent air to him. The two farmers instinctively withdrew.
The dwarf slid into the corner of the chair.
Yeah⊠Cadis security guardsâŠ
âWhat. People like you again. What kind of neighborhood is this reallyâŠâ Rocus spat on the floor as if fed up. He turned cold in an instant.
Even his pretense of a smile was removed, and he laid his chin on the backrest.
âLook. Itâs very difficult for people like you to mix with others.â
The tall farmer blinked his eyes in fright. âT-the security guards followed one woman in a mask. Maybe she was trying to sneak in.â
âAhaha. Is that so? Thatâs funny.â Rocus laughed and drank the farmerâs beer naturally. The two farmers were startled.
âOn your sleeve⊠BloodstainsâŠâ
Rocus simply wiped the beer from his chin lightly. âYeah. I educated my brother. He kept asking questions. I came and saw him. But why does alcohol taste like this?â
The two farmers exchanged anxious glances
âYoung man. Youâre not from this city but you canât do that here. If you hit a young child or buy a woman, your head will be on the wallâŠâ
âWhy does alcohol taste like this?â
The tall farmer sighed deeply. âItâs because of the Prohibition Order. We are fortunate that Madam gave us a grace period⊠Even at the tavern, the drinks are less strong because they are saving it.â
âProhibition? Wow, thatâs crazyâŠâ Rocus sighed in shock. After a momentâs silence, he placed his elbows on the table and supported his temples with his fists. âI have to go see the business sooner rather than later. No one can buy a woman. We canât even beat stubborn children. We canât even drink. This is none other than a living hell.â
âIf you live, you must obey the rules. This place was so barren until the lord cameâŠâ
âNoisy. Iâm not interested in his life, so talk about the duchess.â Rocus pounded the table with his hammer-like fist. Beer glasses and appetizer plates bounced.
The peasants were terrified and nodded hastily.
âShe said thisâŠâ
âI tried to visit you secretly in the stead of the lord who was curious about everyone. Iâm just glad to see everyone from so far away.
The Lord is always looking over work to see if everythingâs fine. As a mistress, I am always concerned about you.
So, letâs hope for the safe return of the lordâŠâ
The farmer who had spoken up there paused for a moment.
They seemed to be excited again just by talking about the duchess.
It was heartbreaking to see how aggrieved she was with longing.
They chatted for a while, but Rocus didnât say anything.
His expression gradually darkened.
The farmer delivered the duchessâ last appeal.
âPlease sincerely pray for my husbandâs safe return.â
Rocus clenched his teeth with a grim expression as if he was going to kill someone. The farmers were quiet.
âFuck, darn it. Tristan was right. Sheâs totally obsessed with the mongrel.â
It has to be stupid enough.
His clenched fists on the table filled with strength.
Green eyes glanced over the peasants who held their breaths in fear.
âYou two. Follow me right now.â
* * *
The pale moonlight spilled into Vladâs office.
A faint light barely reached the huge office chair resembling its ownerâs body.
Lily was buried in that huge chair. It was as if she had slipped into Vladâs arms. Her silver hair, braided to one side, reflected the cold moonlight.
She looked particularly sad, eyes downcast and draped in a burgundy cloak over her negligee.
There was too much to think about.
Dandelion shut his mouth tightly in the end, not saying anything.
He was like a child who came running with a commotion.
The second matter, which was about the women disappearing in the alleys
And last but not leastâŠ
She lay down on her table. The nape of her slender neck, fresh white, was listless.
ââŠI canât do anything.â
She was about to cry.
There was an empty sheet under her neat fingernails. There were written drafts scattered all around.
After returning from Cadis, the paper had been in her hands all day.
âPlease sincerely pray for my husbandâs safe return.â
She shouldnât have said that.
The iron door that had been locked with a rusty chain broke. Her emotions poured out all day long.