Chapter 18
Sofia’s words instantly brought silence to the surroundings.
Regardless of the Anti-Discrimination Law, impersonating a noble was a serious crime.
Yet Rosie didn’t even flinch. She responded with her usual calm.
“You’re saying strange things. I never once claimed I was a noble.”
Of course, back at the boutique she had acted in a way that invited misunderstanding, but that was another matter.
Sofia clicked her tongue as though Rosie were ridiculous and seized one of Rosie’s arms. Clang—Rosie’s fork fell to the floor.
“We’ll see once the guards question you.”
Sofia spoke with a nasty smile.
Whether Rosie had actually said such a thing or not didn’t matter. If necessary, she could simply hire someone to lie and say they had seen Rosie pretending to be a noble.
“Let go!”
Rosie twisted her arm to escape Sofia’s grip—then paused in surprise.
She had never been particularly strong, but at least strong enough to handle daily chores. Yet her arm felt weak, and she couldn’t even pull away.
Her illness had been draining her day by day, but this was new.
While Rosie stared at the red mark forming on her wrist—
“Ack!”
Sofia suddenly shrieked and stumbled back.
“…Huh?”
Someone had grabbed Sofia’s wrist and pulled her away from Rosie.
Rosie looked up, startled, at the man who had suddenly appeared. He turned to her and asked—
“Are you all right?”
“Uh… I…”
Flustered, Rosie glanced over at Daisy, silently asking if she knew him.
Daisy only shook her head.
“…Who are you?”
The man released Sofia’s wrist with a sheepish expression, then bowed deeply.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I heard that you requested a bodyguard at the front desk yesterday.
I’m Tom, from the Vine Rose Security Team.”
“…A bodyguard?”
Rosie narrowed her eyes and examined him.
His brown curly hair was messy, his cheeks dotted with freckles—he had the friendly, studious look of a boy who worked with his head, not his fists.
Although yesterday she had asked where one might go to hire a bodyguard, that wasn’t the same as actually requesting one.
‘I only asked where to hire one if needed. I didn’t officially request anything…?’
Rosie stared at him blankly. He continued awkwardly.
“Originally, I meant to follow quietly from a distance, just in case something dangerous happened. But, well… given the circumstances, I had to step in.
If this isn’t what you wanted, I apologize.”
“No, it’s not that… I’m just surprised. Does Vine Rose normally assign bodyguards if a guest asks?”
“Ah! No, not at all. Most guests already travel with their own attendants or security, but you seemed to be an exception…
And above all, the manager gave special instructions.”
“…I see.”
There it was. Ainar again.
He followed her out to sea the first day, personally came to her room to escort her to the restaurant, and apparently assigned her a bodyguard without permission too.
As Daisy had said, he normally paid little attention to hotel matters—so why was he so focused on her?
Calling Tom a bodyguard was one thing, but following her from the hotel until now was closer to surveillance. Just like when he said he’d “watch Daisy.” The more she learned, the more suspicious he became.
“Thank you for understanding!”
Tom brightened when Rosie nodded.
Then—
“Kyaa!!”
A sudden scream made Rosie turn.
Sofia, who had gone pale the moment Tom mentioned Vine Rose, had collapsed to the floor, clutching her cheek.
“I told you not to behave like this.”
“Ch-Charl—”
Sofia stared up at Charles in disbelief.
Once it became clear Rosie was a Vine Rose guest, Charles had struck Sofia.
“H-how could you hit me…?”
“How? How, you ask?”
Charles, furious, didn’t even try to hide his anger.
“I gave you, a mere common-born dancer, the chance to become a baron’s wife—and you humiliate me like this? You?”
His eyes blazed as he glared down at her.
“You should’ve known your place, Sofia Broche.”
Though technically a noble, Charles was the kind of provincial third-rate noble who couldn’t even dream of entering Vine Rose.
He knew better than anyone how high Vine Rose’s threshold was.
And yet this woman had just offended someone who not only stayed there, but was important enough to receive a manager-appointed bodyguard.
Meeting such a person by chance should have been an opportunity to win favor, to gain even the slightest boost in influence. Instead, his “uncouth woman” ruined everything—rage surged through him.
“…I apologize.”
Charles, biting his lip hard, turned to Rosie and bowed.
It was a shocking sight. Nobles almost never offered direct apologies.
“I don’t know how I can properly apologize… If you would tell me your family name, I will personally visit with a great gift to make amends, my lady.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as people around him glared openly.
“Tsk. Calling yourself a noble and acting that disgracefully… what a pathetic sight.”
Someone muttered in obvious disgust.
As wealth blurred the line between commoners and nobles, the aristocracy clung even more desperately to “noble behavior.” And Charles’s display was anything but noble.
Still, for Charles, pride mattered far less than not offending the girl before him.
Rosie frowned at his groveling.
“I don’t have a family. So there’s no need for apology. What I would like is… to finish my meal.”
“…!”
Charles looked at her in dread.
But before he could say anything further, Tom stepped between them with a polite smile.
“As the young lady said, she must eat. This way, please.”
Tom escorted Charles out of the balcony. Sofia, who had been sitting on the ground in a daze, scrambled up and hurried after him.
“Even if she follows him out, I doubt things will go back to how they were…”
Daisy murmured as Sofia disappeared.
Rosie silently agreed, though she felt no sympathy for Sofia.
Trying to ignore the scene that had just unfolded, Rosie reached for her fork.
But it had long since fallen to the ground. Rosie sighed and was about to call a server when—
“Goodness, what a commotion you’ve had this morning.”
Someone at the next table spoke to her.
It seemed they were curious after hearing she was a Vine Rose guest.
“Ah… yes.”
Rosie replied briefly and called a server.
“Well then, I hope the rest of your meal is enjoyable.”
The stranger turned away in embarrassment. A server brought Rosie a fresh fork.
But the lobster had grown cold in the commotion. After eating just a few more pieces, Rosie and Daisy left the restaurant without properly enjoying the meal.
“What a waste.”
“Right? It was so good…”
“It’s fine. We can come back another time, can’t we, Rosie?”
“…Yeah. Of course, Daisy.”
Rosie felt a strange warmth at Daisy’s gentle words.
Her first nice restaurant. Her first time eating lobster. And all with the first friend who had ever approached her on her own.
Despite the upsetting scene, Daisy cheerfully spoke of “next time.”
More than anything, Rosie was simply happy to be friends with her.
‘I’m someone who could die any day… and I’m making a friend?’
She felt sorry for Daisy, who would mourn her someday, but at this moment, Rosie cherished this warmth deeply.
After her relationship with Lily fell apart when she was young, she had never made a friend her age again.
In truth, Daisy was Rosie’s first real friend.
