Chapter 09
A massive black-and-white photograph splashed across the front page of the newspaper.
People in sleeping caps were whispering in the background in front of the familiar dress shop.
Right in the middle was the cheating husband, bawling like a child, snot and tears everywhere.
Clear, glistening snot hanging all the way down to his chin, and the buttons on his vest bursting open from collapsing to the ground crying—through the gap, his bulging belly poked out…
Ugh!
Because photography hadn’t been around long, the image was grainy and monotone—you could barely tell it was even a person.
But somehow, that man’s protruding belly was disturbingly crisp.
Ugh, again!
“What are you looking at, Seraphina?”
“Ellie.”
I folded the newspaper in half and turned. Ellie was bouncing in place, dressed in the shop uniform—a black shirt, white skirt, and white scarf.
Ellie pulled a familiar letter from her skirt pocket and launched into the same story she’d already told me ten times today.
“I woke up at six, like always, and—guess what! This was in my mailbox! When I opened it, it was a letter those two adulterers exchanged!”
Yeah, I know. I delivered it there myself at midnight. I’m exhausted.
“And then Lady Oblonski contacted me this morning! Said she’d seen the article and told me to come back to work!”
Lady Oblonski was the cheating man’s wife—a merchant’s daughter.
She’d become the new owner of this dress shop when Mrs. Scrooge decided to hand it over to the Oblonski Trading Company. She was also the one who rescued Ellie from being collateral damage in their affair.
“I heard Mrs. Scrooge got sued for adultery.”
A coworker plopped down next to me and chimed in.
“Figures. There’s no way out of it. Half the city saw what happened yesterday.”
“If she’d tried to stay here, every reservation for spring ball gowns would’ve been canceled.”
“Of course! What lady would order a dress from a designer who might be sleeping with her husband?”
“So she gave up without a fight?”
“I heard Mrs. Scrooge borrowed a ton to buy this building. She can’t afford the fines or damages, so she’s giving up the dress shop in compensation.”
“And that’s why I got my job back in one day!”
“Ellie’s rehired, that wicked owner is kicked out…”
“And her lackey, the head seamstress? Fired. Serves her right.”
One coworker muttered while glaring at the head seamstress packing her things alone.
In the Empire, every workplace must give employees a 15-minute teatime around 3 p.m.
We technically always had that right, but the moment the owner changed, we finally got to enjoy it for the first time.
“So the cheating husband got dumped with nothing, Mrs. Scrooge lost the shop, and what about the mistress?”
“She’s already in prison.”
“What? Why?”
“She slapped a maid at the Oblonski estate. Said she was going to be the new lady of the house.”
“And apparently she lied about being pregnant.”
“Adultery, assault, fraud…”
“She even got dumped by the cheating guy! He said he only approached her for money and that the woman he truly loved was Mrs. Scrooge.”
“Oh, please.”
“Anyway, it’s all thanks to the Magical Saint!”
Ellie clasped her hands, eyes sparkling. She snatched back the newspaper and opened the front page.
[The Appearance of a Magical Saint?]
[A woman claiming to be ‘The Magical Saint Sena’…]
“What’s a Magical Saint?”
“It says here… 950 years ago—”
“But can that be real? Saints are one thing, but mages don’t exist anymore.”
“She might be a scammer pretending to be a Magical Saint.”
“They said it was chaos here last night. Someone probably took advantage of it to pull a prank.”
“But isn’t it true letters fell from the sky?”
“And someone delivered a letter to Ellie’s house too.”
“And one was sent to the Oblonski estate as well.”
“How many letters were they sending each other!?”
“Whatever the case, this part is undeniable!”
Amid the debate, Ellie’s eyes sparkled even brighter.
“I don’t know who she is, but she helped me. From now on, I’m the Magical Saint’s fan!”
“Same here.”
“Right, if you think about it, we’re having teatime right now because of her.”
“And soon we’ll get off work on time, no more unpaid overtime…”
“All thanks to the Magical Saint. …Hey, Seraphina, why are you nodding off?”
“Ah. Sorry.”
Haaaaam. I stretched and yawned widely.
“I didn’t sleep last night.”
“You probably stayed up reading again, didn’t you?”
“Something like that…”
Strictly speaking, I spent the night dodging bullets, but close enough.
“You’re drooling.”
I wiped my chin awkwardly, ignoring my giggling coworkers.
Q. Will you continue working at the dress shop even though you’re a Magical Saint now?
A. Yes. People might wonder where I suddenly got money if I quit.
Besides, there are rumors to collect.
Remember? Customers think of employees like us as furniture—no eyes, no ears.
This place is a goldmine for gossip.
And Magical Saint work isn’t stable. I need consistent income in case it ends abruptly.
“But who’s that guy?”
I deflected before my coworkers could roast me any further for my swollen, sleepless face. I nodded toward the man who’d been going up and down the stairs carrying boxes to the third floor.
“A new hire.”
“New?”
“Well, not exactly ours… You know the tea leaves supplied by the Temple?”
“The expensive ones?”
“Yeah. Mrs. Scrooge tried forever to get them for our teahouse, but she failed. Starting today, we get them.”
“No way.”
“I know, right? And I bet she wanted them just to serve her boyfriend, not the customers.”
Anyway, that guy is now delivering tea leaves between the Temple and us.
“And he’ll run errands when we’re busy.”
“Hm.”
I propped my chin in my hand and examined him.
Just then, he turned his head, and our eyes met.
Silver hair. Pale sky-blue eyes. Features dignified and holy—except for that delinquent glare.
He had an elegant air, yet somehow a hoodlum vibe.
He doesn’t look like some errand boy.
Look at him—he’s not doing anything, just standing, yet he looks graceful. Like someone who practiced standing still thousands of times.
Arden gets like that sometimes too.
That guy I saw in the alley last night had sky-blue eyes too… Is that a common color?
“I was so sad thinking we’d never see ‘Handkerchief Customer’ again!”
“Oh, that junior of Seraphina’s?”
“The handsome one?”
“But isn’t he kind of cold? Last time Seraphina went to deliver something, he was just standing there alone. I asked if he needed help and he just bowed and left.”
“Really?”
Why would he do that?
Still staring back at the man, I responded.
I missed the timing to look away, and now we were locked into eye contact.
Fine, but why isn’t HE looking away?
While I grumbled internally, the man slowly curved his lips into a smile.
My fists clenched on instinct.
Why is he smiling like that at a stranger? Creepy.
“You know, ladies, the handkerchief guy is handsome, but the new guy is also—”
Right then—
“Huff huff huff huff!”
…Huh?
I looked down under the chair.
Somehow, Tofu—with his yellow backpack—was sitting there, staring up at me, eyes twinkling.
His warm paw tapped my shin.
What the—!
“Seraphina, where are you going?”
“Bathroom! Just a sec!”
I scooped the puppy up before anyone saw and dashed up the stairs as if fleeing a crime scene.
I slipped into the second-floor fitting room, shut the door, and hissed,
“Tofu! How did you get here?!”
“I flew!”
“No—!”
Not that.
“Why? Why are you here?!”
Do you have any idea how rude it is to barge into someone’s workplace!?
But the blissfully ignorant puppy was ecstatic, ears flapping as he sniffed around everything.
He whispered:
“Magical Saint Seraphina!”
“What…”
“You have a new mission!”
Already?!
