Episode 11

It was my first day off since my new job.

Ute Velvet looked impressive as always.

Unlike work hours, his slightly lifted bangs revealed a smooth forehead in all its glory.

‘That forehead should be preserved as a national treasure.’

Was it right for such cultural heritage to be exposed like this?

The first person I witnessed after stepping out of the mansion was Ute Velvet.

‘Life is good.’

I took a deep breath and quickened my pace.

Once I stopped at a distance where my nervous system wouldn’t be too disrupted, Ute handed me something.

“This is rather late, but here’s a contract gift.”

“A gift?”

“We’re in the same boat now. You’ve been great so far, and I hope you can keep it up, Miss Sonnet.”

The light brown paper bag was surprisingly heavy.

“What’s this?”

“Go ahead and open it if you’re curious.”

“Can I?”

His silver head bobbed up and down.

I untied the ribbon without hesitation.

Inside the dark bag, something transparent and smooth glimmered…

“This is… a... seedling?”

What in the world?

I turned the gift around to try and understand it. An explanation followed.

“These are flower seedlings. Miss Sonnet will be able to sell them for a high price later on.”

“What is it called?”

His sweet voice uttered a long scientific name.

‘Never heard of it.’

Even as a gardener’s assistant, I had never recalled such a flower.

‘If it were valuable, I would have probably been familiar with it.'

But Ute Velvet said it would be expensive ‘later on.’

I scrutinized the unremarkable perennial flower and joked,

“Haha... Does Sir Ute think I can sell it for a high price?"

“There will be a huge increase in demand in the future.”

“When is in the future?”

“Perhaps 3 or 4 years?”

“Oh…”

“I’m sure of it. It’s not well-known now, but it will be.”

“Did Sir Ute find out this information yourself?”

“No, I heard of it.”

“From whom?”

“...My younger sibling.”

After a brief hesitation, Ute firmly assured it was solid information.

‘Is it an investment disease?’

What do you call a person who believes in unreliable harvests during unreliable times?

You call him a scammer.

‘Is it a family trait?’

Investment disease was one capable of tearing a family apart.

I glanced at the seedling supposedly set to boom in 3 or 4 years.

His clear green eyes were so sincere they made my doubts feel like a sin.

“If you’re sure this will be a hit, you must have bought much more, right?”

“No, I don’t have any.”

“Why not?”

“It isn't available in the capital and is hard to obtain right now, plus…”

Ute Velvet gazed into the distance.

“In a few years, it shall be… meaningless profit to me. Definitely."

There was no such thing as meaningless profit.

If the info was truly ‘certain,’ he’d have taken out a loan to invest.

But Ute Velvet did not do that.

‘Do I look like an easy mark? Like an idiot?’

Packaging a small flower seedling as if it’s worth a fortune.

This guy is pulling a sympathy card with that face!

‘There's no need for that.’

Even a cheap flower seedling would be satisfactory.

Because Ute Velvet gave it to me.

‘How could I ever sell this treasure?'

Of course, if this indeed increased in demand over the next few years, I would reconsider.

‘Like that’s going to happen.’

The pot was smaller than my hand.

As I remained silent, the corners of Ute's eyes drooped a little.

“Do you… not like it?”

“No, of course not. I like it.”

Oh great, my mouth again.

I meant to keep silent, but I was helpless before that face.

“Thank you. I’ll take good care of it.”

“Of course. Grow it well and sell it for a good price.”

“Haha…”

So, he wasn’t joking.

‘Can I keep liking this guy?’

I’ll have to be more on guard in the future.

‘I’m not a pushover.’

Just because I like him doesn’t mean I have to be a doormat.

I don’t have to, but…

“Miss Sonnet, could you turn around for a moment?”

Whoosh.

The hem of the red wine-colored dress brushed my ankles.

The man, arms crossed, lightly grasped the sleeve.

“Hmm… Something lighter might suit you better. What do you think, Miss Sonnet?”

“I think the first one was fine.”

“No Miss Sonnet. Dark colors don’t suit you. Something more bright would do the job."

Ute swiftly lifted the dress the clerk was holding and placed it in front of me.

The pale blue lace tickled my chin.

“How about this?”

“It’s pretty.”

“Did you say the material was different? Yes, yes, I understand..."

A pale blue blouse and white skirt draped over my arms.

This was the seventh outfit change.

‘Is this right?’

It’s been an hour since Ute Velvet brought me to this clothing store.

It felt like the colors were spinning before my eyes.

‘I thought we’d just pick something quick.’

At first, I was going to buy the black pants and shirt hanging by the front.

If Ute hadn’t screamed in horror.

‘Such a color spits out Miss Sonnet's entire existence!'

‘How can a color spit me out?’

His solid fist pounded his chest in frustration.

It’s been like this ever since.

“How's this?”

“Hmm… It does bring out your face more. Look in the mirror.”

He guided me to the mirror with his hands on my shoulders.

I couldn’t even see my face because of Ute Velvet’s immense glow.

His long fingers smoothed out the sleeve wrinkles with care.

“Everything is decent, except for the rough edges here.”

“Isn’t that fine?”

“Fine? These details determine the quality of the garment.”

“I can fix this myself.”

“But still…”

Ute Velvet circled me as if something was missing.

During that time, I remembered what my mother had said.

‘Daughter, remember this.’

The night it was decided I would head to the capital.

Mother held my hand tight and emphasized,

‘If a man in the capital buys you clothes, it means he wants a serious relationship with you.’

‘That’s such an old-fashioned point of view.’

‘You must never fall for such nonsense, understood?’

‘She did say that, but…’

This situation was different from the tricks Mother warned about.

First off, Ute Velvet’s gift of clothes was more like my reward for being an outstanding employee.

Second—

“Do you have this in a different color? Something a bit lighter.”

“This is already white, sir.”

“A shade without any yellow tint. Like the fountain over there.”

Whatever mother meant, this wasn’t it.

Ute and the clerk’s debate over the different shades of color didn’t end easily.

“How about tying the ribbon like this?”

Well, what matters is that everything is over now!

“Is it over now?”

“It seems we’ve picked out everything that suits you here. If you need more, we can check the next store—”

“No! This is enough! Plenty! I could wear these for ten years!”

Even having worn one of the dresses, my hands were still overflowing with bags.

The ribbon Ute tied tickled my elbow.

‘A serious relationship…’

If buying clothes signified a serious relationship, this was akin to a proposal.

“Sir Ute, are you from the capital?”

“No, I studied in the north.”

As expected, he didn't mean it like that!

Ute naturally lifted the bags from my arms and continued ahead.

“Where are we going now?”

“Where else.”

His defined eyes drew an arc.

“I said I would teach Miss Sonnet what romance is.”

---

“Long time no see!”

“Have you been well?”

“You know me. So many new releases were published while you were away.”

Ute nodded lightly and advanced further inside.

There was no hesitation in his steps as he moved past the bookshelves.

“Are you a regular here?”

“I used to pour all my money into this place. I have tons of books at home. Although they were all lost when the building collapsed.”

“Ah…”

His steps halted at the romance section.

Ute proceeded with his lesson as his fingers traced the book covers, one by one.

“Romance has trends and clichés. If you read a lot, you can roughly predict the general plot from the get-go.”

“Is that possible?”

“You can also guess the ending from the title.”

It does depend on the title, he added softly.

“For example, to conclude ‘Why Do You Keep Obsessing Over Your Terminally Ill Wife,’ at least two conditions must be met.”

“…”

“The female lead's terminal illness must be cured, and the male lead must be obsessed with her.”

"You said terminal illness."

“Yes.”

“But how do you cure that?”

“With various miracles and the power of the audience’s desire for a happy ending?”

What the hell are you talking about?

“Well, curing the illness for a happy ending, that's fine. But isn’t obsession a bad outcome?”

“That’s—”

His eyes, which had been facing me abruptly turned towards the window.

His calm green eyes widened like candy.

“Just a moment, please stay here for a second.”

“Sir Ute?”

The man set down the bags and sprinted away in a hurry.

What the heck, where’s he going?

---

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