Chapter 1
Prologue. The Woman Who Appeared on Soles Street: The Bonnel
August, 1318. Lenore, the capital of Veloff.
<Soles Musse> is an art gallery that displays and sells luxury goods such as paintings and sculptures. Lenore’s fundamental character is self-proclaimed as “The Elegant City.” There are countless wealthy people who consider luxury a virtue, so these kinds of galleries are quite common. The fact that the perennially loss-making Soles Musse Gallery can maintain its existence—located on Soles Street, where the relative middle class resides—is explained by this principle.
The gallery owner, Baron Cobain, is a man who would rather shout about honor even while dying under a mountain of debt. He is the sort of person who absolutely cannot stand being embarrassed, so he constantly works hard to ensure his employees get paid. His track record is not exactly exemplary, but the irony is that because he pretends it is, someone else can sleep soundly at night.
Ah, we don’t need to waste time evaluating a man like an empty cart with broken spokes.
We need to talk about ‘her,’ the woman who appeared at Soles Musse that day.
That day, an employee was holding the Lenore Post and battling the invincible monster of midsummer drowsiness. Clink, the door opened, and a young woman who looked to be in her twenties entered, followed by a gray-haired man who was clearly well over thirty.
The fact that she was raised precious was evident, though no one knew which family she belonged to. She had long, flawless black hair that looked well-cared-for and white skin with an apricot-like vitality. There was an air of haughtiness in her downward-sloping eyes. Her catlike, upturned eyes were beautiful. Her clean pupils, like the lush greenery that thrives with ease, were particularly striking. The employee swallowed an involuntary gasp. ‘Wow.’ She looked like she was glowing from behind.
“I can breathe now that I’m in the shade.”
The woman’s parasol had a unique design with coral patterns on a white background. It was truly beautiful. Not the parasol, but the woman.
“I think the summer sun is so hot that it’s cooked the brains of Lenore’s people.”
“Annette, don’t say things like that in public.”
Well, it’s not easy to be both beautiful and perfectly behaved. The employee, having regained some focus, scanned the woman’s attire.
The sheer summer gloves were from the famous brand O’dette, and that hat with the sophisticated brown feather was a new arrival from Bittencourt. This meant they were all exorbitantly expensive luxury goods.
A wealthy foreigner touring Lenore? The man standing behind the woman also looked unusual. Hmm, he had a cold-looking impression. Judging by the wrinkles in his dress shirt, he didn’t seem to worry much about his appearance, but the pocket watch he was holding was severely high-priced. Wait, the Berlexx brand? Is that the Coklinger Edition from 1111? Is it really? Or is it a fake?
As the employee continued his almost survival-level scan, the woman, who had casually walked past him, stopped in front of a painting hung on the central pillar of the building. Snapping back to attention, the employee asked,
“You must be hot; I’ll prepare something to drink…”
“It’s fine. If I wanted to drink something, I would have gone to a teahouse, wouldn’t I?”
The woman, who was intently examining the painting, replied. Again, she certainly didn’t seem to have a kind temperament.
“We don’t have time.”
The gray-haired man clicked open the lid of his watch. Today’s first visitors to the gallery didn’t seem inclined to even pretend to show off their artistic knowledge. Such customers occasionally appear, like beans sprouting in a drought.
“Then, how can I help you?”
“My companion is rushing me, so I can’t even look around. To get to the point, I’m looking for Baron Cobain.”
“Are you a guest of the Baron?”
“A special guest. Do you happen to know where he is?”
The employee tilted his head and answered cautiously.
“Well… I’m just an employee. The Baron only stops by the gallery sometimes… I will pass on your message when he comes next. What should I tell him you came for?”
And on that day, the employee was caught up in the most shocking farce of his career.
“Could you please convey to the Baron that he must sell this place, no matter how much he tries to run away?”
“Pardon…?”
“We need this building.”
“Eh…?”
The woman raised her right hand and wiggled her fingers. As if on cue, the gray-haired man took out a checkbook, a pen, and ink from his bag. The pen scratched across the paper, guided by her elegant fingertips, which were encased in gloves more expensive than the employee’s annual salary.
The employee stared down, mesmerized.
[Belschutiebank Issued
Payee: Julien Peary Amount: 3,000 LB Livres Signature: Annette R. Bonnel]
The employee was shocked by every line. Once, by seeing his own name written as the payee; again, by the amount, which was equivalent to half a year’s wages; and yet again, by the name elegantly scrawled in the signature box.
Bonnel. It was ‘The Bonnel.’
“This is a tip. Please convey our word ‘well’ to Baron Cobain. Of course… if you tell us where the Baron is ‘right now,’ we could show even greater generosity.”
‘The Bonnel’ was one of the most prominent wealthy families in Shavin, a coastal city far to the southwest of Lenore, and was also at the center of several recent social controversies. The most famous one was the ‘sale of title’ case, which was decided two years ago.
The appearance of ‘The Bonnel’ in Lenore was clearly an extraordinary event.
That day, on Soles Street, three shops across the block from the gallery were sold to the Bonnel family and closed their doors. Two days later, rumors circulated that a large dressmaker’s shop and an old vacant lot one block away from the gallery had also been sold.
On the third day, the rumor that the Bonnels of Shavin, starting on Soles Street, had come up to Lenore became a news article published on the second page of the Lenore Post under the headline “BONNEL DEVASTATES HISTORIC SOLES STREET!”
