Chapter 50
Unlike the traveling astrologers among the other gypsies, whose tents moved from place to place, this shop’s interior was as neat as a coffee house.
Still, the silk curtains that blocked out the outside light, the black carpet, and the soft glow of the silver candlesticks gave the place the same air of mystery found in any fortune-teller’s den.
In the center sat a woman holding a crystal ball, seated on a sofa. Behind her, a faintly glowing celestial map, painted with luminous paint, created an oddly majestic sight.
“Nice to meet you, you must be Gisela?”
Determined not to be overawed, Paula greeted her first with confidence.
But the woman, her mouth hidden by a veil, did not return the greeting—she simply stared at Paula in silence.
The ornate forehead ornament, silver necklace, and purple garments she wore brought to mind a dancer. Had the outfit been any more revealing, she could have been mistaken for one.
The unfamiliar attire only heightened her mysterious aura.
“Sit down. I think I can see your future quite clearly.”
Just as I thought!
Paula eagerly plopped herself onto the sofa. But once she sat, she found herself irritated that Gisela had ignored her greeting.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh, come now. Shouldn’t an astrologer at least be able to guess my name?”
She picked a fight deliberately, hoping to gain the upper hand. Usually, this would fluster people into making excuses—and that was when she could seize the advantage.
But Gisela’s voice cut sharply through the air.
“Born with a fate that won’t allow you to call your mother ‘Mother,’ and yet you dare to pick a fight with me?”
Her voice was both sharp and heavy, like a witch’s rebuke.
And more than that—it was the content of her words.
“Gasp! H-how did you—?”
When her mother married, Paula’s maternal grandfather, a loan shark, had killed everyone who knew of Paula’s existence.
Only her grandfather, her mother, and Paula herself knew this secret. Which meant—this woman really could see fate.
“I pitied you for being born with such a pathetic future and wanted to change it for you, but to think you’d act so insolent! Get out of my space at once!”
“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll never be rude again! M-my name is Pa—Paula!”
“Know your place! Even the crystal ball is angry!”
With that, Gisela forced Paula to kneel before the crystal ball.
“Keep apologizing until the crystal ball’s anger fades!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I truly was wrong. Please don’t be angry.”
Before long, the crystal ball’s color shifted from red to blue.
“Good. Now it is willing to help you, Paula.”
“Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”
By the time she sat back on the sofa, she was already far behind in this battle of wills. But Paula, now convinced Gisela was a genuine astrologer, no longer cared about that.
“Yes… the crystal ball says the reason you came here has to do with your mother’s husband.”
“H-how can you even see that?”
“Of course.”
With a serious expression, Gisela shuffled her tarot cards and spent some time divining. Then, with a tone of intrigue, she spoke.
“You’ve been diverted from a destiny to become a noble. You’ll remain a maid forever.”
Paula swallowed hard. She had come here with a faint hope, but until now, she had never believed a fortune-teller could be real.
She had lived a life she couldn’t confess even to a friend, and this wasn’t her first time seeking guidance from fortune-telling.
But every fortune-teller she’d met before was just a fraud—pretending to see through her, offering vague, comforting words she wanted to hear.
“Your mother’s future is in ruins as well. Tsk tsk. I see her being drained dry by her husband, her life leeched away. She’s the type who quickly forgets favors.”
“Y-yes, exactly! Thanks to her dowry, he escaped bankruptcy, but instead of being grateful, he treats her like dirt!”
“Ah… it was that first dowry that entangled your fate. That man was meant to go bankrupt, and your mother should have risen in status. Your mother’s husband—he runs a pharmaceutical company, doesn’t he? The moment your mother’s dowry went into it, fate began to twist.”
But Gisela was different—not just moderately convincing, but as if she truly saw fate.
If it’s the research lab her dowry funded…
“Across the sea to the east, there’s a specialized concept called geomancy—it’s hard to explain, but simply put, that lab blocked your mother’s fortune and transferred it to your father instead.”
“I heard she set up something like that when she got married.”
Paula’s suspicion toward Gisela was already beginning to melt away.
“Paula, that building is swallowing your destiny too. You were meant to become a noble, but your father stole that fate. A man who should have gone bankrupt stole the fortunes of you and your mother. If things continue this way, you’ll spend your life calling your own mother ‘Madam.’”
Fate. When someone who saw both her secret and her future spoke the word, it carried an overwhelming weight.
“Paula, do you know what little stroke of luck you do have? That you met me. This meeting will free you from your fate.”
She didn’t know. She didn’t realize just how enormous a trap this was.
Gisela’s outfit. The interior decorations. Even the cheap magical tool disguised as a crystal ball—
“I will make you a true noble. Not just like that adopted girl you’ve always envied and resented, but far more of a noble than she could ever dream of.”
—everything had been set as bait by Odette, designed to lure Paula toward the future she wanted her to have.
Today was the day Karl would be escorted to the Count’s estate.
Odette had taken special care in choosing her outfit, deliberately selecting colors that reminded one of Karl—
A crimson dress, red accessories, and black shoes.
In that splendid, aristocratic attire, she sat on the sofa of her small toilette room.
“How about curling your hair just this much?”
Lize carefully wound Odette’s platinum-blonde hair around a heated iron.
“Yes. I like this better. Since the dress is flashy, curls suit the look.”
She knew Fernand would hate it, but she wasn’t particularly worried.
She planned to lie and say it was a gift from his mother anyway.
Mother and son—both proud and foolish. Easy to deal with.
What Fernand had probably wanted was for his mother to bend. Since he had taken away her control over the estate’s finances, he must have thought she would have no choice but to yield.
At the very least, for the sake of money, she would have had to go to him with a request.
But Odette had introduced a variable—paintings whose prices had soared to a terrifying degree.
I made sure to pick the ones that would fetch money fastest.
Those paintings, which had already multiplied in value several times, had skyrocketed in price since the painter’s death just the other day.
Through Malea, she had even marked a few more paintings worth buying in the future—so there was no reason for the Countess to humble herself.
These days, Mother spends all her time either in her room or at the gallery with her people, doesn’t she?
After losing her authority over personnel matters, the Countess had secluded herself in her room even more, annoyed by the sight of Mrs. Becker strutting about.
Lately, Mrs. Becker had abandoned her dark green and navy dresses for flamboyant gowns, parading through the mansion—
Colors so aristocratic they inevitably called to mind the Countess’s own attire.
It was worth it to pretend they were gifts from Father, and buy her all those dresses and jewels.
Just the smallest prod to her vanity, and she was lifting her chin high, exercising her new authority with relish.
Mrs. Becker was so drunk on her little game of playing lady that she paid no attention to watching Odette.
Thanks to that, the only real nuisances these days were Fernand barging into her room to interfere and Menggele, whom she had to face every day.
“Miss, your beauty lately is almost frightening. And your skin—how has it become so pale and smooth?”
In truth, it was just the expensive whitening injections—while pretending they were from Menggele.
“Enough flattery. Tie the ribbon at my back, will you?”
“That wasn’t flattery!”
Lize protested in an aggrieved tone as she straightened Odette’s outfit.
And then—
Bang! The door to the toilette room burst open.
