Chapter 8: How a Mercenary Accepts a New Request (4)
“Rosie.”
Only after hearing Regina’s warning-filled voice did Rosie hurriedly cover her mouth.
When she turned her head slowly, she saw Regina’s face filled with anger.
These kinds of careless comments were exactly why Regina often scolded her.
“You can’t say things like that about mercenaries—especially not someone from the Persona Guild.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“I’ve told you many times. We should be proud of what we do. But to you, being a mercenary just sounds like a convenient excuse.”
Rosie didn’t try to defend herself. She knew that once Regina got serious, playing the “sad little sister” card wouldn’t help. She just kept her head down in silence.
Still, a small part of her felt unfairly treated.
‘Well, it’s easy for her to be calm. She has Gael’s heart. She’s not just a regular female mercenary like me—she’s Gellen’s daughter. And she’s pretty.’
Rosie knew Gael’s eyes always followed Regina.
Still, she tried not to feel bitter—because she truly liked and respected Regina.
But at times like this, she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt.
“Let’s ride for a bit. Clear your head too. Yah!”
As Regina rode off ahead, Rosie thought to herself,
“Maybe it would be better if she just got married and disappeared for a while. Then I could have time to get close to Gael.”
But she immediately scolded herself for thinking something so selfish. She knew she wouldn’t even be part of the Persona Guild if it weren’t for Regina. Even if she felt wronged enough to cry, she had no right to be ungrateful.
Rosie planned to keep quiet about what happened, as a way of reflecting.
That is… until Gael shoved his face into hers.
“You turned him down, right?”
“…I just got back. Can I take a shower first?”
“You should’ve kicked his teeth in for even saying crap like that.”
“He’s royalty, you know.”
Regina let out a long sigh and shoved Gael out of the room. He tried to resist, but he knew what would happen if he pushed her too far— so he left quietly.
“A clear rejection, huh?”
In truth, Regina wasn’t sure if she could call it a clear no. The payment Valentin offered had been very tempting.
With that much money, she could pay off the penalty fees— and even recover the funds Gellen had stolen.
“He said one year, didn’t he…”
But marrying royalty under false pretenses, and then divorcing after a year, wasn’t something she could easily erase from her life. Sitting on the sofa, she clutched her head and groaned.
“No way. I couldn’t actually… right?”
When she closed her eyes, she remembered Shanro, the hot-headed mercenary who had wanted to run straight back into battle, even from his hospital bed.
“I have to protect my family. My guild.”
To Regina, each and every member of Persona was family.
She had given up her childhood to build this home.
She gathered those who had nowhere to go and made Gellen their leader.
She had endured countless dangers for their sake. And it was all worth it—especially when she saw the mercenaries laugh and live freely, even though the world treated them like rags.
“So that’s why… I have to…”
Before she could finish her thought, sleep pulled her under.
Valentin sat on his sofa, kicking a shard of broken porcelain across the floor. It had once been a fancy vase, but he didn’t regret breaking it. After all, it had helped him drive off Finette and her clingy gaze.
“You’ve got a cut on your forehead.”
The moment Regina left, the rats had crept back, curious about the conversation between the mercenary and the duke.
So Valentin gave them a good show—pretending to be mad and violent again.
But no matter how much he scared them off, they kept crawling back, just like real rats.
When Allen stepped closer to check his wound, Valentin waved him off. It barely hurt—probably just a scratch from a fingernail.
Allen sighed deeply. He was supposed to be the duke’s personal physician, but he couldn’t even treat a simple cut without permission.
Still, what could he do? He owed Valentin a huge debt—one that bound him by loyalty.
“According to Whale, special taxes will be issued tomorrow for the C District.”
“Hm?”
“That’s where the Persona Guild is located.”
Valentin chuckled.
“The Count of Renzienr and that woman are working together. It’s their way of punishing Persona for stopping the ambush.”
“I thought they’d let it slide, but I guess she changed her mind again.”
Empress Dowager Elverba—daughter of the Count of Renzienr.
She became Empress at 18 and now ruled as regent for the current emperor.
She was the most powerful woman in the empire’s history.
Anyone who had seen her up close knew her moods were unpredictable. And Valentin, who once had to beg for his life before her, knew that better than anyone.
As he stared out the window at the rising moon, Allen asked carefully:
“Things didn’t go well with the mercenary?”
“She turned me down. But it wasn’t a complete rejection. Her expression said otherwise.”
“Hmm… Well, it’s odd.I heard Persona’s struggling financially. I thought she’d say yes right away.”
Allen cleaned his glasses with his sleeve, frowning.
He had watched Regina face off against Finette—she was strong. But now Valentin was smiling again.
“So they really are tight on money…”
After Regina left, Valentin had thought hard. She’d scoffed at his ridiculous proposal, but something made her hesitate at the door.
Maybe it was the amount of money he offered. The sparkle in her blue eyes had hinted at it.
“I want it to be her.”
“But shouldn’t we look for someone else, just in case? That mercenary seems really stubborn.”
No—talking to her only made him more certain.
If anyone could scare off the rats lurking in the castle, it was her.
Valentin signaled Allen to lower his voice.
Thank goodness these old castle doors were thick.
“She’ll come back. Because of that tax.”
Did the Empress Dowager even realize?
That her orders had pushed the ship she was riding forward?
“She’s a responsible mercenary. The kind who’d step up to save her guild from going under.”
“She might be back in Balmen as early as tomorrow.”
Valentin shrugged as if to say exactly.
Allen pictured poor Thomas’s face when he heard the news.
“He’s going to lose it.”
Thomas was a knight who lived by honor and the sword.
He had hated the idea of a female mercenary guarding a prince from the beginning.
This news wouldn’t make him happy.
But what could they do?
Valentin never cared much for other people’s opinions anyway.
And just as Allen expected,
Valentin wasn’t thinking of Thomas at all.
He was already looking forward to seeing her again.
Despite falling asleep on the sofa with her head in her hands,
Regina slept pretty well. She even overslept.
“Today I should go buy some pudding, then visit the injured guys again.”
Leaving those wild, monkey-like mercenaries in the infirmary was unfair to the poor healer. She worried the healer might collapse first.
“Also, I should sharpen my sword and see if any merchants need escorting…”
She stretched, opened the window, and took a deep breath of fresh air. Oversleeping wasn’t a good idea—her to-do list was packed.
It was time to get moving.
“Regina! Come down quickly! Something big happened!”
Of course, she hadn’t wanted anything big to happen. But this was Persona, where drama was never far away.
And she was always the one called to fix it first.
At the urgent voice outside her door, she skipped closing the window and opened the door instead.
“What now?”
“I don’t know exactly, but even Maut’s angry.”
If someone as calm as Maut was angry, it had to be serious.
Regina rushed to the guild’s main lobby,
where she was greeted by the worst kind of news:
A tax notice—way earlier than expected.
Seasonal taxes usually came when seasons changed. Spring hadn’t even arrived yet.
“This makes no sense. A special tax?”
Regina’s voice trembled as she read the letter.
Maut and Rosie had gone silent after seeing the notice.
“They’re hitting C District with an extra tax. Guilds and merchants will have to pay even more.”
Maut handed her the tax breakdown.
Regina’s face went pale.
2,000 rel.
More than twice the winter season’s tax of 900 rel.
It was absurd—but she couldn’t ignore it.
In the capital, unpaid taxes could bring in imperial knights.
“Why C District, of all places?”
“Who knows what goes on in the minds of nobles?”
“The old man from the Dongmor Merchant Guild says someone in C District must’ve gotten on the bad side of someone powerful…”
Refusing to pay taxes was like refusing a royal command—
practically treason.
If guilds or merchants with official licenses refused,
they might get raided by royal soldiers.
“Of all times… why now?”
