“D-Did you finish shopping?”
Chris came running over and asked with a bright smile. Vendia narrowed her eyes and replied,
“Chris. Are you still going to insist you're not handsome? A crowd of women gathered just to look at your face.”
“T-That's not it! They're just curious about me!”
“Does that make any sense?”
“I-Isn't that heavy? I-I'll carry it for you!”
Wanting to escape the topic, he quickly changed the subject and snatched the bags from her hands.
Shasha immediately held out her own bags too, asking him to carry them, but Chris pretended not to notice. Instead, he stuck close to Vendia's side and grinned.
“Ugh.”
“Give them here.”
Seeing Shasha grumbling unhappily, Vendia reached out to take the bags herself. Only then did Chris reluctantly take Shasha's luggage as well.
Definitely the type with a "my woman only" setting.
“Let's get out of here first.”
Afraid the women might follow them, the three hurried away from the plaza almost as if they were fleeing.
“T-Then I'll go get a carriage.”
Once they reached the entrance, Chris ran off to find a hired carriage, leaving Vendia and Shasha standing on the sidewalk.
That's when she felt someone's gaze.
A sharp, prickling stare.
Turning around to find the source, she met a pair of fiery red eyes beneath equally fiery red hair.
“What are you looking at?”
“Well, look who it is. Our tenant.”
Vendia greeted him much more warmly than she had on their first meeting.
About ten steps away, sitting at a café terrace, was Ron.
The second-floor tenant who had demanded a fireplace in the middle of summer and spoken rudely to her from day one.
As usual, he was dressed in expensive-looking, luxurious clothes.
His face, however, was a mess.
Yesterday his forehead had been split open.
Today his lip was cut.
What exactly was he doing every day?
Whenever he left the mansion and returned, he always seemed to come back with new injuries.
Not that it was any of her business.
“Mind your own business.”
Ron scowled even harder and snapped at her.
Vendia really wanted to punch him in the head.
But she restrained herself.
People always said landlords held the power.
That only worked when people actually wanted the property.
In a building nobody wanted, the tenants held the power.
“Our esteemed tenant. The fireplace is working fine now, right?”
“If there's a problem again, I won't let it slide.”
“Of course, of course.”
“Hey. Are you making fun of me?”
Sharp, isn't he?
“Oh, come on. Why would I ever make fun of our precious tenant?”
“Quit talking to me. And stop acting familiar.”
Ron raised an eyebrow and turned away.
Exactly what she wanted.
Vendia also immediately dropped her smile and looked forward again.
“Who do you think he really is?”
Curious, Shasha leaned close and whispered into her ear.
It was understandable.
Ron lived in a luxury mansion, wore only the finest clothes, yet had no surname—just a single name.
“A noble, probably.”
“Really? I thought he might be a nouveau riche merchant.”
“If he were newly rich, he wouldn't live in a mansion. He'd buy some extravagant estate and show off his wealth. Nobody like that would choose a half-collapsing apartment building.”
Vendia had already suspected as much when she saw the rental contract.
The signature had contained only a single name.
No family name.
Which meant he was likely a noble hiding his identity.
Or someone who needed to remain hidden.
She hadn't cared enough to investigate.
As long as the rent was paid, that was enough.
Besides, she herself was living under the name Dia.
Everyone had their own circumstances.
About five minutes passed as she and Shasha discussed dinner plans while waiting for Chris.
Then—
“There he is!”
“Get him!”
A group of rough-looking men came charging toward them.
Or rather—
Toward Ron.
Six intimidating men surrounded him in an instant.
“You little rat. Did you really think we wouldn't find you just because you hid?”
“Are you blind? Does this look like hiding to you?”
As Thug Number One spoke, Ron casually scraped his chair back and stood up.
Seeing that Ron wasn't only rude to her gave Vendia a strange sense of comfort.
To be fair, sitting openly on a café terrace in broad daylight hardly counted as hiding.
“You bastard!”
Enraged, the thug threw a punch.
“...Huh?”
Vendia and Shasha gasped simultaneously.
They had expected Ron to dodge.
Or hit back.
Instead, he simply took the punch.
That seemed to be the signal.
All six men began beating up Ron at once.
Considering his personality, Vendia had assumed he was strong.
Yet he stood there silently taking the blows.
Is this why he's always covered in injuries?
“Eeeek!”
People on the café terrace screamed and scattered as the fight erupted.
Vendia also began quietly backing away.
“Aren't we going to help him? He's your ‘our esteemed tenant,' after all.”
The quick-witted Shasha grabbed her arm before she could retreat further.
“Shasha. We're outnumbered. And how exactly are we supposed to beat six professional thugs?”
“Well... that's true... but morally speaking...”
Even as she said that, Shasha subtly moved closer to Vendia.
“They're deliberately avoiding vital areas.”
Huh?
The voice was much lower than usual.
Vendia turned toward Chris.
At some point he had returned and was standing beside them, staring at Ron with unfamiliar eyes.
His dark gaze had become sharp.
Focused.
Vendia followed his line of sight toward Ron.
But she couldn't see what Chris saw.
To her, Ron simply looked like he was getting beaten up.
Well, well...
So the clueless act isn't perfect after all?
She stared at Chris.
Feeling her gaze, he slowly looked down.
Their eyes met.
His dark eyes widened instantly.
Then panic erupted across his face.
“...A-Ah! N-No! I-I just... I've been beaten up a lot myself...!”
Apparently he had only just realized what he had revealed.
He stammered more than usual.
His face turned bright red.
Anyone could tell he was suspicious.
But perhaps it was part of being a heroine—
Sometimes it was better to pretend not to notice.
“R-Really! Ever since I was little, I've gotten beaten up a lot, so that's why I know...”
“Mhm. Sure. You're absolutely right.”
Vendia nodded as if soothing a child.
Internally, however, she was laughing.
Her instincts had been right all along.
“B-But it's true... really...”
“What's going on over there?!”
Chris's gloomy muttering was drowned out by a new arrival.
The city guards.
Fortunately, the guards saw the fight and immediately rushed over.
The thugs ran away.
Ron ran away too.
And the three of them returned to the mansion in a hired carriage.
That night—
Vendia's eyes snapped open while she was sleeping.
“Who's there?”
“Master. It's me. Chris.”
