Chapter 90
“Well, still…”
After stealing glances at Aisha for a while, Mari suddenly spoke up. Aisha, who had been leaning on her hand and gazing outside, turned to her with a puzzled look. Mari was looking at her with a slightly flushed face.
“As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters!”
“……”
“Honestly, seeing you like this is so much better than when you were bedridden. A noble lady participating in business—how amazing is that?”
Mari was the maid who served Aisha most closely. That’s why she had seen everything—Aisha crying and falling ill because of Ian.
Mari hated seeing her beautiful and kind mistress suffer over a man. No matter how handsome or powerful that nobleman might be, what did it matter if her lady was left hurt, lying in bed, soaking her pillow with tears every day?
“And when you go out like this, I’m happy too! I get to skip cleaning, see the outside world legally, and…”
Eager to support Aisha’s change, Mari chattered on cheerfully. Aisha chuckled at her comment about avoiding chores and gently patted her head.
“Do you know how jealous Anna was when she heard I was going out with you today? That girl’s probably still fuming…”
As Mari’s chatter continued, the carriage had smoothly exited the mountain path. In the distance, red roofs came into view. Aisha shook her head a couple of times to shake off the lingering image of Ian from her mind.
‘…Let’s just focus on work right now.’
Ian hadn’t completely disappeared from her thoughts. But just having his presence diminished brought her enough peace that she could smile brightly at her father-in-law who had come to greet her.
“Yes, miss. Please put in a good word with the Count.”
“Of course. Thank you for today. I’ll be sure to talk to my father.”
Aisha left the shop that did business with the Pardons in high spirits. The goods were of better quality than expected, and the quantity was just right, so everything wrapped up sooner than planned.
“Mari, let’s take a look around the village before heading back.”
“Yes, miss.”
“You two don’t mind, right?”
“Of course not, miss.”
Seeing Aisha’s satisfied expression, Mari and the two guards also brightened up. The four of them, much lighter on their feet than when they arrived, began to stroll around the village.
“Wow, it’s beautiful.”
“Right? I’m glad we came.”
Colorful fabrics were draped all around Lafran Village. Especially in the central marketplace, the hanging fabrics stretched along the streets in a vibrant display, creating a spectacular view. Gold thread glistened on the fluttering, dyed cloths. Though the quality wasn’t the best since they were displayed outside, the shimmering threads under the sunlight looked stunning.
Aisha leisurely browsed the merchandise with Mari. Some merchants perked up at the sight of a young noble lady accompanied by a maid, eager to make a sale. But when they spotted the burly guards following a few steps behind, they quickly backed off.
Feeling like they might be intimidating the vendors, Aisha asked the guards to stay a bit farther away. They initially refused, saying it was dangerous, but relented at her repeated request.
With the guards keeping their distance, Aisha entered the shops with Mari and continued browsing. The merchants of Lafran Village, seemingly experienced with noble clientele, didn’t hesitate to approach Aisha with their sales pitches. However, even their enthusiastic efforts failed to spark her interest.
‘As I thought… There’s nothing here as good as the custom orders.’
Most of the shops didn’t carry anything comparable to what Aisha had pre-ordered. Some even had obvious counterfeits. It made sense—most artisans were booked with reservations, so truly high-quality goods rarely made it to open markets.
“Let’s just check this last store and head back.”
Losing interest, Aisha pointed to a large shop. Mari, also growing tired of window shopping, nodded silently and followed her.
“Welcome! Let me guide you inside.”
The last store was fairly large and well-staffed. However, despite the spacious interior, the quality of goods was mediocre at best, leaving Aisha unimpressed again.
“Ha! Haven’t you heard how famous Lafran Village’s textiles are?”
Just then, a sharp voice rang out as Aisha idly glanced over the goods. Curious, she turned toward the sound. She spotted a customer in an unusual outfit arguing with what appeared to be the shop owner.
“Hmm… Is that price really right?”
“Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me!”
Though the shop owner was the louder one, the customer drew more attention. With dark, sandy-toned skin and stark white hair, they were clearly foreigners—not typical citizens of the Caesar Empire.
‘Astarian?’
Aisha recognized them, her eyes widening. The Astarians hailed from the Kingdom of Asta, across the western sea of the empire. They were rarely seen in the capital, though more common in the western provinces.
“Miss, look at them! I’ve only read about people with that skin tone in books—this is my first time seeing one in person.”
“Mari, don’t stare. It’s rude.”
Mari gawked openly, prompting Aisha to scold her. Mari quickly looked away but continued sneaking glances.
“Anyway, this is one hundred gold. One hundred! Do you know how rare something like this is in Lafran Village? How dare you doubt it!”
Curious, Aisha perked up at the mention of such an outrageous price. She turned back toward the commotion and frowned at the shop owner.
‘That’s not even from Lafran Village… And he’s charging that much?’
One hundred gold could buy a sizable gold bar. Selling a fake for that much was outright fraud. Aisha had planned to stay out of it, but she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Miss?”
Mari called after her in concern as Aisha firmly approached the arguing pair, suppressing her irritation.
“…Fine. I’ll take it.”
“There you go! Lucky you. Any other artisan would’ve walked away the moment you questioned them—”
Just as the foreigner was about to buy the item, Aisha stepped in and stared down the boastful shop owner. Then she turned to the customer at the front of the group.
“That’s a counterfeit.”
The shop owner and the foreigners turned to her in surprise. Aisha stepped closer and pointed at the item the owner had offered.
“Look here. True Lafran fabric doesn’t have marks like this. This embroidery is made using ordinary techniques.”
“What—what?! Who are you?!”
The shop owner, caught red-handed, exploded. Though startled by his loud voice, Aisha bravely continued.
“You should have some shame. Not only are you selling a fake, but you’re charging one hundred gold. Even if that were real, Lafran fabric of this length wouldn’t cost more than a quarter of that. I suggest you look elsewhere, sir.”
“Who do you think you are, ruining my business?! Get lost!”
His face flushed red in anger. As he roared like he might hit her, Mari motioned to the guards outside and stood protectively in front of Aisha.
“Don’t you dare yell at our lady! You fraud!”
“What?! What did you say—fraud?!”
Mari, being less intimidating than Aisha, seemed an easier target. The shop owner raised his hand, but Aisha’s voice cut in, cold and firm.
“Touch a single hair on my maid, and I’ll cut that hand off.”
“You damned—!”
The shop owner, flustered by Aisha’s threat and the approaching guards, clumsily fled into the back room, clutching the cloth. His retreat was a pathetic sight.
“Shall we drag him out, miss?”
“No, it’s fine.”
As the guards kept their eyes on the fleeing man, Aisha waved them off and turned to the foreign guests. Locking eyes with the man at the front, she paused for a moment.
‘Ah…’
He was unmistakably striking. Towering in height, with long hair and a single ear decked in earrings, the most mesmerizing feature was his deep red eyes—like rubies—impossible to ignore.
But that was as far as her interest went. Aisha wasn’t easily swayed by appearances. Regaining her composure, she pointed outside.
“If you really want to buy Lafran fabric… see that symbol out there? Shops with that mark are directly run by artisans. There are a lot of them one block down. Try there.”
The man didn’t respond—just stared at her silently. His gaze was intense, even beyond rudeness, and it unsettled Aisha. Awkward, she gave a faint smile and turned away.
“Well then… Mari, let’s go.”
“Wait.”
Jingle. His earrings clinked together just as a large hand clamped around Aisha’s wrist. She gasped, shocked at the strength in his grip, and looked back.
“Your name. And your house?”
He grinned slowly and asked the question in a commanding tone, using the Astarian language. Aisha, who had studied Astarian, understood him—but was too stunned to answer right away.
“Miss! Let go of her right now!”
Mari rushed over, but the man didn’t budge until Aisha twisted her wrist. Only then did he release her.
“Your name. Your house.”
“…Shouldn’t you introduce yourself before asking someone else’s name?”
Rubbing her sore wrist, Aisha shot back without thinking. Behind her, the guards had closed in, tension in the air. Yet the man seemed unbothered, stroking his chin before replying.
“Me? I’m… Imir. Yeah, call me Imir. Satisfied now?”
