Chapter 10
Thunk—!
A sharp pen tip grazed Reynol and embedded itself into the wall.
Ziiiiing.
It struck with such force that the pen vibrated and rattled from the impact.
With wide, startled eyes, Reynol glanced at the pen, then cried out in protest.
“Wow, seriously? How could you throw such a dangerous thing at someone as cute as your dear grandson?! It almost went through my forehead! That’s attempted murder!”
But crying out to Hestia in distress was pointless—she was not the type to be moved by such theatrics.
“Too bad. It should’ve gone through your forehead. What a shame.”
With a snort of derision, Hestia set down the basket she’d brought.
“I’m busy today, so hand it over. Quickly.”
At her command, Reynol’s eyes sparkled as he eagerly approached the basket to inspect its contents.
“Oh ho… I think we should convert our Artis Guild into an herbal medicine business. No one else deals in such rare herbs. We can charge whatever we want.”
A glimmer of delight lit up his deep blue eyes as he stroked his chin and smiled slyly.
It was obvious he was happily calculating how to sell the goods at the highest price.
The sight of him overlapped with someone from Hestia’s memories, and her expression softened.
“You really are Ilina’s son.”
Her voice was tinged with nostalgia.
“Thank you for the compliment.”
Reynol beamed, his eyes forming crescent moons. Anyone unfamiliar would be captivated by the charm of that smile.
Amused, Hestia stood on her tiptoes to ruffle Reynol’s wavy violet hair.
“Give my regards to Ilina.”
There was a wistful yearning in her touch, like she was recalling something precious.
“My mother’s been waiting for news from you. She’ll be delighted.”
When Hestia pulled her hand away, Reynol smacked his lips in disappointment.
“Just a moment, I’ll go get the goods.”
With that, he turned and disappeared somewhere.
Hestia watched his back for a moment, smiling faintly, then slowly looked around the inside of the guild.
When she first agreed to help establish this guild, it was out of a half-hearted sympathy for an old man’s final wish.
“…Foolish ties really are scary.”
Strong bonds once meant to last forever can shatter over a single misunderstanding, while ties that almost amounted to nothing can take root and grow into towering trees.
“They say you can live for hundreds of years and still not know life.”
“You think a few hundred years is enough to understand life? You’d need to live at least a few thousand!”
Heave!
Reynol had returned without her noticing and dropped a large basket down with a grunt, teasing as he did.
A few thousand?
It was just a light-hearted comment, but goosebumps prickled up Hestia’s arms. Sweat trickled down her spine. A fear she didn’t even want to imagine slithered up through her body.
Get a grip, Hestia. Breathe.
She calmed her trembling hands with effort, then finally managed to snap back:
“…Say something like that again, and I’ll flip this entire guild upside down.”
Her eyes glared with cold fury and disdain.
Yet—
“Haa… Lady Hestia, do you know something?”
Even under that fierce glare, Reynol wore an entranced expression.
“That look… is exactly my type.”
He gazed at her with those dreamy, deep blue eyes, like he was trying to capture her every detail, blinking forgotten.
“…”
Hestia pressed her temples, as if a headache had bloomed out of nowhere.
“Forget it. Just get rid of all the junk in the basket.”
She pointed to the basket to redirect Reynol’s attention.
She didn’t even need to check it to know what was inside.
“But you’ll need clothes, and some cosmetics too, and scented candles are great for lifting the mood, and this new candlestick I found suits you so well I couldn’t not include it…”
As expected.
“Out.”
Hestia’s response was curt and firm.
Reynol, of course, replied just as briefly.
“Yup.”
He gave up quickly—he always did.
This exchange had played out countless times before. And yet, Reynol never stopped trying.
There was something definitely off about him.
As she watched him diligently remove the items, Hestia shook her head.
Haah… A sigh escaped her.
She was about to inspect the now lighter basket when—
“Oh, can you deliver this letter for me? And get a few sets of boys’ clothes.”
She pulled a letter from her coat and handed it to Reynol.
“Ancient hieroglyphs, huh?”
He confirmed the script on the envelope instantly.
“You don’t know who it’s addressed to?”
“Nope. But this small star symbol is a signature mark of one of our capital clients. If you want, I can try to track them down.”
He smiled at her with that charming grin, seizing the opportunity.
But Hestia focused on something else entirely.
“…Don’t tell me you memorized all the clients’ symbols?”
Her jaw dropped.
Was that even humanly possible? Her brown eyes filled with stunned disbelief.
“It’s not just the capital. This is basic stuff for a guild master.”
Reynol tilted his head as if it was no big deal.
The Artis Guild’s delivery system allowed clients to register their personal sigils. When goods or letters arrived, the sigil was matched to retrieve the items. Though slower than using personal couriers, it was secure and cheap—ideal for those wanting privacy.
With hundreds of branches just in the capital, and thousands of sigils registered…
Hestia had every reason to be shocked that Reynol had memorized them all.
“…The power of genetics is scary.”
Mother Ilina and son Reynol.
Their resemblance made Hestia click her tongue.
“You’re awfully generous with compliments today. Care to say I’m pretty, while you’re at it?”
Reynol fluttered his lashes and gave a dazzling smile.
It was a smile that could charm anyone—man or woman—but Hestia just looked annoyed and steered things back to the point.
“If you get a reply to the letter, just send up blue smoke.”
She had too much to do in the village to waste any more time arguing with Reynol.
Not that time itself was precious. She could toss it in the trash if she wanted. But someone was waiting for her back home…
And just the thought of that made her heart anxious.
“I hope the reply comes quickly. Then I’ll get to see you again.”
Reynol clapped the dust off his hands with a wistful smile.
“What size for the boy’s clothes?”
“Hmm… 12 years old?”
That’s about how old Theo looked to her. But after a moment’s pause, she corrected herself.
“No—14.”
Theo said he was 14, after all. Might as well go with that. Better too big than too small.
“Any preferred style?”
“Just something simple. Ah! But since it’s for a kid, something cute would be nice.”
Fourteen? A kid? Cute clothes?
Calling a 14-year-old a kid and dressing him in cute clothes—Reynol couldn’t understand it.
But he didn’t question it. He just nodded silently.
“What’s the budget?”
He whipped out his abacus with sharp eyes.
Hestia scowled at the sight.
“Ha ha. Just kidding. Not funny, huh? I’ll be right back!”
Sensing danger, Reynol gave a nervous laugh and dashed off like lightning.
He soon returned, panting, arms full of clothes.
“I picked out ones that are cute—but not too flashy. Will these do?”
He laid them on the table.
Hestia glanced through them and nodded.
“Yup. Perfect!”
She smiled, oblivious to Reynol’s puzzled expression.
As she began neatly folding the clothes into the empty basket, Hestia paused.
“Huh?”
Her eyes widened as she spotted an old book hidden among the clothes.
“You have no idea how hard that was to find.”
Worn from time and use, the title was barely visible.
It wasn’t just any rare book—it was an original version of a banned text, normally only available in censored translation.
Hestia swallowed dryly and gingerly lifted the book.
Hope stirred in her eyes, but so did the fear of disappointment she’d known too many times before.
“But it’s written in ancient script. It’ll take a while to translate.”
“…No helping it. The translated versions are full of errors and missing forbidden phrases. I’ll have to read the original, even if it takes time. I’ve got nothing but time.”
She would not give up. She would find a way. One day, she would break free from this cursed life.
Even if she fell again into despair.
There was an unwavering strength in her brown eyes.
“Should I get you a translator?”
Hestia waved a hand dismissively.
“I’m not getting thrown in jail again. You’d understand if you ever went to prison.”
She tucked the book carefully into the basket and did a final sweep to check for missing items.
“If you find someone discreet…”
Reynol began to speak again, but clamped his mouth shut under Hestia’s annoyed glare.
“…Right. Sorry.”
He raised his hands in surrender.
He remembered something his mother, Ilina, had once told him—and wisely backed off.
“I’m off now.”
Seeing him pout like that, Hestia chuckled quietly, then left the shop without hesitation.
what the, he is so pervert lmao