Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Her heart was pounding wildly.

James Dautryche is a playboy. James Dautryche is a playboy…

Like a mantra, Rose repeated this to herself over and over.

Perhaps because of her nerves, the hand clutching her skirt was damp with sweat.

The sensation of the magic sharing must have messed with my mind for a moment. It’s just my feelings being influenced temporarily; this emotion isn’t real.

Those blue eyes were staring right through her.

Beneath the piercing blue, she saw the flickering flames of an illusion.

His gaze was obsessively fixed on her.

I have to look away. I have to, but…

Yet Rose’s eyes seemed caught in James’s stare, unable to move.

“What did you want to talk about?”

In the suffocating tension, Rose barely managed to ask.

James took a moment to choose his words, then answered calmly.

“…It’s about finding the person who made the request. We should start making a proper plan.”

The tension in Rose’s shoulders slowly melted away.

James watched her with a bitter smile.

Time truly flew by, and soon enough, two weeks had already passed since Rose had arrived at the Dautryche mansion.

The staff of the Dautryche household couldn’t stop talking about the eccentric master’s fiancée whenever they met.

And no wonder — her profile was wildly fascinating!

“-Official Announcement from Dautryche Company-
The lucky girl of this era and Cinderella-to-be is Miss V, a famous necromancer from Morgenia.”

It wasn’t hard to discover the identity of the famous necromancer from Morgenia, even down to the initials.

Anyone well-versed in social news would immediately think of Miss Blavatsky.

“Miss Taylor is that Blavatsky!”

“Then did she dye her brown hair? What about her eye color?”

“That’s not important. The problem is the master chose a witch.”

“Nonsense. Necromancers are just scammers. Witch is too far-fetched.”

“What are you saying? Necromancy is real, not a scam!”

From her true identity as the fiancée and future lady of the house to the authenticity of necromancy itself, the gossip never ceased.

Most of all, the rumors refused to fade because her behavior was deeply mysterious.

She locked her door during the day and never came out, leading to countless wild speculations.

The most popular theory was: “Rose Taylor—or Olga Blavatsky—is a witch.”

They said she must have seduced the kingdom’s richest master with enchanting spells.

“I heard Jimmy from the afternoon shift pays a third of his salary for her fortune-telling, and she’s uncannily accurate!”

“There’s the story about the expensive potion she made for Jimmy that worked wonders.”

“Maybe necromancy is a phenomenon caused by a witch’s power.”

“They say if you meet her eyes, she steals your soul!”

Inside the mansion, some took these rumors seriously while others scoffed.

“Ridiculous. We’re not children reading fairy tales. What is magic, really?”

“With such stubborn minds, there must be invisible worlds we don’t understand.”

They say the three most entertaining things in the world were fights, fires, and other people’s stories.

Despite crackdowns from the butler and housekeeper, the rumors showed no sign of dying down.

“Shh! Someone’s coming!”

Clack, clack, clack.

The quiet mansion was suddenly filled with the sound of hurried footsteps.

The gossiping staff abruptly fell silent and scattered to the corners.

The owner of the hasty footsteps was none other than the very subject of their gossip, Rose Taylor herself.

“…What does the young lady want?”

“The atmosphere feels completely different from usual.”

She practically ran down the long corridor, moving so fast it was a wonder she didn’t trip going down the stairs.

Watching her rush by, the gossipers started whispering again.

They had never seen her walk so briskly or with such a grim expression.

Her eyes were filled with confusion, her lips tightly sealed, and her jaw clenched hard.

“Could it be… she sensed what we’ve been saying about her?”

“Eek!”

At the fearful prediction, the gathered staff shivered and hurried back to their posts.

They enjoyed gossip, but it didn’t guarantee their jobs.

Such was the bitter reality of servants.

Unaware of their fearful trembling, Rose hurried straight to James’s study.

She called out before knocking.

“James! It’s me!”

“Come in.”

The door swung open at her voice.

“Did you run here? You look out of breath.”

“No, I—huff… I walked.”

Rose took several deep breaths to steady herself.

“If you’re this out of breath, it must be quite urgent.”

“I said I walked.”

James set down the pen he’d been reviewing papers with and stood.

“Have you already run out of magic?”

He reached out his hand to her as if it was routine.

Ever since arriving at the mansion, she had locked herself in her room all day, dedicating herself to catching up on her magic studies.

Before starting official duties, she needed to reacquaint herself with the magic she’d abandoned.

The plan was simple.

First, finish the backlog of magic study within a month.

Next, as per the contract, search with James for the kidnapped Mythos girl, and seek revenge for her own parents.

Though the plan was shaky at best, proper investigation required urgent magic training.

At first, sharing magic with James helped her study progress quickly.

Before the mark, her magic was too little to practice all spells, so being able to was thrilling but brief.

Her magic depleted faster than expected.

Under these conditions, Rose had only two options.

First, stop studying and wait forever for her magic to replenish naturally.

Or second, get an immediate magic supply to continue.

Eventually, flustered, Rose came to James and whispered,

“Um, please fill me up…”

“…Rose. What are you saying?”

James’s expression was indescribably intense.

Rose forced herself to erase the embarrassing memory and denied the other meaning of her words strongly.

“No, no! That’s not it!”

“Is it not?”

“The Golden Raven sent word just now. There’s bad news and worse news. Which do you want first?”

“Not bad and good news?”

“No. Bad news and worse news.”

James stroked his chin thoughtfully before answering.

“Let’s hear the less threatening one first.”

“The first bad news is that tracing the girl you’re is looking for in the Mythos registry has some limits.”

“That’s bad news?”

“There are 3,527 registered Mythos girls aged 6 to 10, born in Romberton 15 years ago.”

“Hmm.”

She placed a document stamped with the Golden Raven seal on James’s desk.

The paper summarized brief personal information.

“How many remain if you exclude blondes and brunettes?”

“Well, 1,018 brown-haired girls alone.”

“Hmm, 1,018… so?”

James asked while Rose averted her eyes and rolled them.

“Just filtering Romberton births leaves over a thousand. Counting those who moved in or were only passing through…”

“So, we can’t find her?”

James pressed, but Rose hesitated.

“Is the bad news that the contract will be canceled?”

“No! That’s not it!”

She shook her hands and strongly denied this.

“So… if you could provide just a bit more advance to hire people and gather information…”

At her hesitant words, James burst out laughing.

“Anytime. Call on me as much as you need.”

Who does she think I am? James laughed heartily while staring at Rose’s wide eyes.