Chapter 48
Meanwhile, Ainar was in a foul mood.
It hadn’t even been a full day since he’d confidently declared that everything would be fine, and yet he was already hearing that unsavory rumors about Rosy were quietly circulating inside the hotel.
Just as he expected, the source of those rumors was none other than Lily Kikern.
“Unbelievable. How ridiculous.”
Ainar tossed the stack of papers he was holding onto the floor as though it wasn’t worth another glance.
The papers were covered with vicious gossip about Rosy—claims that she was a lascivious woman who seduced men, rumors that she had once been married, and even accusations that she had been a mere maid in the capital and was pretending to be a noblewoman here.
Truth and lies were intricately mixed together.
If there was any consolation at all, it was that the rumors hadn’t yet spread too far—but that was only a matter of time.
Ainar pressed his fingers against his forehead and muttered,
“I should never have let her stay here in the first place.”
So this was the result of holding himself back because of Cleadon’s appearance.
He had already found Cleadon irritating enough, but now the man seemed even more unbearable.
Jerome, who stood beside him, shook his head slightly at Ainar’s words.
“You may think so now because nothing has happened yet, but it’s best not to draw unnecessary attention from Lord Diero while he is still in Beidos.”
His blunt remark made Ainar’s eyebrow twitch upward.
It wasn’t as though Ainar was unaware of that fact—he was simply irritated.
Jerome, oblivious to Ainar’s growing annoyance, continued speaking.
“And besides, it’s merely gossip about some commoner maid. Hardly the sort of matter you need concern yourself with, my lord.”
Ainar’s eyebrow shot up higher in displeasure.
While the other hotel employees had sensed the peculiar tension between Ainar and Rosy, Jerome had yet to properly grasp the atmosphere.
More precisely—Jerome knew Ainar was behaving oddly toward Rosy, but he never imagined that Ainar actually held any real feelings for her.
After all, this was Ainar Portrey.
A man who could meet any noblewoman in the Empire if he so desired.
The idea that his master would genuinely fall for a mere maid-born commoner was absurd.
So Jerome failed to notice how Ainar’s expression darkened further as he carelessly continued speaking ill of Rosy.
“Perhaps this is a good opportunity to remove her entirely. This hotel is for nobility, and her situation practically amounts to deceit. There’s more than enough justification. I worry, my lord, that you might be associated with a woman like that and dragged into filthy rumors if—”
Bang!
Ainar slammed his desk before Jerome could finish, the sound echoing sharply as he glared at him.
“Since when has the Vine Rose become a place exclusively for nobles? Whether she was a maid or a commoner, nothing changes the fact that she is a guest holding the key to the Rose Room. Keep your useless words to yourself, Jerome.”
Jerome could do nothing but shut his mouth. Ainar was correct—the Vine Rose was never meant for nobles alone. It naturally catered mostly to high-ranking aristocrats only because the Rose Queen herself managed guest selection.
The regulations might not be important to them as hotel operations were not their primary duty, but the fact remained—Rosy had come here with a legitimate key.
“…What if she stole it?”
Jerome muttered, pointing out that such a thing hardly belonged to a girl of her background.
Ainar nodded lightly.
“Perhaps she did.”
But even if that were true, he had no intention of expelling Rosy from the Vine Rose.
“It doesn’t matter. This is the East. And here, there’s nothing I can’t do.”
“…Yes, my lord.”
Jerome bowed his head at Ainar’s arrogant declaration.
No matter how irrational Ainar’s judgment became or how unreasonable his commands were, no one in the East would dare criticize him for it.
Ainar continued,
“Spread a counter-rumor.”
“…A counter-rumor, my lord?”
“Make it sound as though Rosy is the daughter of an extraordinary noble house. So convincingly that no one can help but believe it.”
From that day onward, the rumors about Rosy grew even more rampant.
One story claimed she was a lowly maid using men to climb the social ladder—lustful and calculating.
The other said the exact opposite.
“Did you hear?”
“You mean Lady Rosy?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, come on. You don’t actually believe that maid rumor, do you? Look at her—her beauty, her dignity. There’s no way she’s a maid.”
“No, not that rumor.”
“What? There’s another one?”
“Yes! And this one’s supposed to be the real story. They say Lady Rosy is actually a noblewoman from another country—practically a princess from a grand house!”
“Ah! That explains it. I always sensed a different sort of grace from her, unlike the nobles here.”
“Right? I never believed that other rumor for a second.”
Never before—and likely never again—would such completely opposite rumors swirl around a single person.
Cleadon was having quite a busy time.
Not only was he chasing traces of black magicians—most commonly found in the East—but he also had to investigate Ainar Portrey’s false identity as the hotel’s “manager.”
But digging up information on a Portrey in the East was no easy task.
All Cleadon had managed to uncover so far was that Ainar was posing as the Vine Rose’s manager and that several members of the Portrey family had already infiltrated the hotel.
Rosellina, upon hearing his report, remarked:
“Impressive, isn’t he? Ainar Portrey.”
Even the actual owner of the hotel, Rosellina, hadn’t realized he had seized the manager’s position—and apparently filled the place with his own people.
Had Cleadon not run into him on the cruise by chance, they would have remained completely unaware.
Rosellina clicked her tongue and waved a file.
“Look at this. The manager of the Vine Rose is supposed to be Ian Zendro. That’s what the records say. Honestly…”
“For him, altering a few documents wouldn’t have been difficult.”
“It wouldn’t have been easy either. You know that as well as I do, Cleadon.”
Cleadon fell silent at her remark.
No one understood better than he how much Rosellina invested into managing this hotel.
Through the Vine Rose, she generated enormous political capital, gathered information to surveil her rivals, and even influenced public opinion to her advantage.
And aside from Cleadon, no one knew that the princess herself owned this hotel.
The fact that Ainar was quietly rotting it from within, right under her nose, was astonishing. He had been remarkable even as a child—apparently, he had only grown more formidable with age.
Rosellina sighed.
“Sigh… If only I could have gotten Ainar Portrey on my side. None of this trouble would have been necessary.”
If Portrey cooperated, she wouldn’t have to scour the East piece by piece to find the black magicians. Recovering what they’d stolen from her would be far easier.
But—
“That’s wishful thinking. The chances of Ainar Portrey abandoning his ambitions and pledging loyalty to the Imperial Family are almost nonexistent.”
Cleadon’s voice was unusually dry.
Rosellina let out a soft sigh.
“I know. That’s why it feels even more frustrating.”
Cleadon offered a faint, bitter smile.
Sensing the mood grow heavy, Rosellina deliberately shifted the topic.
“Oh, by the way, Cleadon—who was that woman? The one we saw last time. I’m sure we ran into her on the cruise too, didn’t we?”
She didn’t ask because she was truly curious—it was simply a change of subject. Still, when she thought about it, it was odd.
Cleadon rarely paid attention to others, yet he seemed strangely aware of that woman.
“I’m not sure who you’re referring to.”
Rosellina chuckled when Cleadon responded without any change in expression, as if he truly had no idea what she meant.
She had hoped that a woman who caught Cleadon’s interest, regardless of status, might be worth observing—but from his reaction, that day seemed far off.
Rosellina teased,
“Never mind. Anyway, take things slower, will you? Meet a woman once in a while. Maybe then we won’t have such ridiculous rumors about us, considering you do nothing but work and avoid everyone.”
Her words held no sincerity—just mischief.
Cleadon snorted softly.
