The inside of the boutique was a disaster zone. It looked less like a shop and more like the aftermath of a miniature, very sparkly hurricane. Shards of crystal perfume atomizers glittered like malicious diamonds across the floor, mingling with the torn silk of ruined gowns.
Good grief, Seraphina. You really did a number on this place.
A wave of second-hand shame washed over me. The sight was made all the more pathetic by the boutique's owner, a man with tired eyes and a balding head, sweeping the debris into a sad little pile.
"Ah… Lady Seraphina!"
The moment he saw me, the color drained from his face. A flicker of pure, unadulterated anger flashed in his eyes before it was forcibly extinguished, replaced by a practiced, wobbly smile. It was the smile of the powerless, the weary expression of someone who had to bow to the whims of spoiled nobles to make a living. It was a look I knew all too well.
My heart twisted. It reminded me of my part-time job at a crowded pub back in Seoul. I'd seen every kind of customer, including the belligerent ones who, after a few drinks, thought it was their right to swear at the staff, overturn tables, and generally act like kings in a kingdom of sticky floors and cheap beer.
Back then, I was the one forced to smile and apologize. I had to swallow my anger, my pride, my exhaustion, all for a meager hourly wage.
I will not be that person now.
Even though I wasn't the one who had created this mess, this body and its reputation were now my responsibility. I owed this man a sincere apology.
"I came to express my deepest regrets for my behavior last night," I said, my voice clear and steady.
"...Pardon?"
"It was entirely my fault. There is no excuse for my actions. It was not a simple mistake; it was a failing on my part, and I am here to take full responsibility."
I poured every ounce of sincerity I could muster into my words. Perhaps I overdid it.
"M-My lady? Is something the matter?" The owner's face had shifted from pale to a ghostly white. He looked like he was staring down the God of Death himself. "Are you… are you still displeased? Please, tell me my failing, and I shall correct it!"
"No, I just—"
"Why are you speaking so politely? My lady, it's far more terrifying than your usual shouting!"
Wow. It seems the original Seraphina had set the bar for human decency incredibly low. I let out a small sigh.
"Very well. Is this better?" I asked, reverting to a more clipped, noble tone.
"Infinitely, my lady!"
"Then will you accept my apology?"
"…"
"And my offer of compensation for the damages?"
His eyes widened. "Truly?"
Does he think I've been lying to him his entire life? I suppose Seraphina probably has.
"Yes, truly," I affirmed. "As compensation, how would you like… a Radiant Floor Room?"
"A… what?"
"A room where the floor itself radiates warmth. You must know of it."
"I know of pouring water over hot stones in a sauna…"
"No, this is different. It creates a gentle, dry heat that warms the entire space from the ground up. An ondol," I said, using the term from my past life before catching myself. "A radiant floor. You truly don't know of it?"
He stared at me blankly, just as Kaelen had. Perfect. This was my opening.
"What a shame," I mused, letting my gaze drift sympathetically. "You don't know about the radiant floor. It would be so wonderfully beneficial for your ailing mother."
"My… mother?" he whispered, his defenses wavering.
"I heard a whisper of her condition. That she has been unwell, especially with this lingering chill."
"Y-yes, that's so."
"The radiant floor is the perfect solution," I continued, my voice now filled with the passion of an architect explaining a brilliant design. "Imagine it. A floor that is constantly, gently warm. There's no need for a bed; she can simply rest on the heated surface, letting the warmth seep into her bones. It's a therapeutic heat, far superior to a stuffy sauna."
I could see it in his eyes. He was hooked. The desperate hope of a son who would do anything for his mother. I delivered the final, calculated line.
"On cold winter days, when the chill seems to seep into your very soul… it's the ultimate comfort for an elder with stiff, aching joints."
"Like… like my mother?"
"Precisely."
A moment of stunned silence passed. "But… you would give such a thing to me? Your Ladyship?"
"Oh, I won't give it to you," I said with a small smile. "I'll build it for you."
"You will… build it?"
"Yes."
His face crumpled with disbelief. "You… you can't be serious."
"Of course, you wouldn't believe me," I said, preempting his doubt. "You're thinking, 'What trick is this wicked girl trying to pull now? How could she possibly build such a thing? Does it even exist?' But then you think of your mother, and a part of you wants to believe. It's captivating, isn't it?"
"…"
"Then let's make a contract," I declared.
"A contract?"
"A construction order contract. Bring me a pen and parchment."
Though utterly bewildered, the owner did as I asked. I quickly sketched out a simple but official-looking document.
Client: Proprietor of the Silverwood Boutique. Contractor: Seraphina de Valois.
"The contract amount will be the total cost of the damages I caused last night. Instead of monetary compensation, I will construct one Radiant Floor Room in the lot behind your shop. What do you say?"
The owner stared at the contract, then at me, his mind clearly struggling to process the situation.
"So… instead of paying for the broken things… you will build this… this radiant room?"
"Exactly."
It was the perfect solution. The Barony was bankrupt; I didn't have a single coin to my name to pay for the damages. But with this project, I could turn a negative into a massive positive. This was the first stone in the foundation of my financial empire.
This is my specialty, after all. I was an architecture student. I may not have had grand ambitions beyond getting a stable job, but I had studied. I had bled for my credits. And here, in this world, that knowledge could be revolutionary.
Construction. Since ancient times, it was the business that minted money. Buildings, bridges, dams… if you could build it, you could profit from it. And I was about to start my very own construction enterprise.
"Well?" I prompted gently. "Shall we sign?"
After a moment more of hesitation, the boutique owner took the quill and signed his name.
It was done. The first construction contract secured by Rina, the former architecture student from South Korea, now living as Seraphina, the villainess of Silverwood. My first step had been taken.
"He is a man driven to the edge."
We had just left the boutique when Kaelen's cold voice sliced through the air.
"Meaning?" I asked, turning to face his impeccably handsome, expressionless face. The air around him seemed to have dropped a few degrees.
"Cornered people grow desperate," he stated. "Their judgment becomes clouded. They become easy prey for those with sinister intentions."
"Prey?"
"Yes."
I arched an eyebrow. "Ah. So the boutique owner is the poor, innocent prey, and I am the wicked predator?"
"Whether your intentions are sinister will be revealed by your actions, my lady."
The chill intensified. I finally understood.
"You don't actually believe I'm going to build that room, do you?"
"That is not it."
"Then what?"
"I believe you are taking advantage of a desperate man's weakness."
…This was practically the same thing. I sighed. It seemed everything I did in this new life was destined to be misunderstood.
"Let's be clear, Kaelen. You think I'm going to take this contract and do nothing, right?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Lady Seraphina is someone who has never soiled her hands with labor in her life."
"And how would you know that?"
"I have heard the talk."
"So you haven't seen it with your own eyes?" I challenged.
"No, but…"
"That is pure prejudice, Sir Valerius," I said, looking up at him. For the first time, a flicker of emotion—surprise—crossed his stoic features.
"I'm a little disappointed, Kaelen. I thought a knight of your caliber judged people based on their character, not on rumors."
"That is…"
"You saw me sign that contract. You believe I will use it as an excuse, to endlessly delay compensating him for the damages while giving him false hope. That is prejudice. It is the root of all conflict. It divides families and crumbles societies."
He fell silent, likely thinking my argument was nothing but clever sophistry. I didn't press the point.
"In any case, I know what you think of me. Now, if you would be so kind as to step aside?"
"My lady?"
"Two steps to your left. Thank you. I need to take some rough measurements."
I turned my attention to the empty lot behind the boutique. This would be my construction site. First things first: assess the land.
"It's a modest build, so I don't need precise surveying, but the ground has a slight incline. The foundation will need to be raised."
I knelt, ignoring the dirt on my fine dress, and scooped up a handful of earth. I sifted it, felt its texture, and rolled it between my fingers.
Ah, this takes me back.
My Soil Mechanics lecture flashed through my mind. We'd spent an entire semester analyzing soil composition, particle volume, and pore space. We'd shoveled it, baked it, and rolled it into little dirt worms just like this. All that tedious work was now proving invaluable.
The composition is good.
Just a few inches below the dark topsoil was a rich, reddish clay. Bingo.
I stood up, dusting off my hands, and met Kaelen's utterly bewildered gaze.
"What?" I asked.
"…"
"Is this the first time you've seen a lady touch dirt?"
"It is the first time I have seen you do so, my lady."
"Then you'd best get used to it. You'll be seeing it quite often."
His eyes narrowed with a strange new curiosity. I ignored him and began walking, leaving the site behind to survey the rest of the domain, my architect's eye scanning the terrain, specifically noting the river that ran through its center. I needed a source for large quantities of that excellent yellow clay.
Back at the mansion, I didn't rest. This was my first project. A strong start was everything. One bad review and my burgeoning business would be finished before it began.
The client's happiness is my future profit.
Pulling an all-nighter was second nature to me. Fueled by years of assignments and part-time jobs, I spent the entire night sketching, calculating, and drafting. By the time the sun rose, I had a complete set of blueprints. I went straight to the estate's administrator.
"How much timber do we have in storage?" I demanded.
The administrator, a sleepy man who hadn't even had his breakfast, blinked at me. "My lady?"
He probably thought I was drunk again.
"I need lumber for a construction project," I said, unrolling the blueprints on his desk. "Have the quantities listed here delivered to the lot behind the village boutique. Immediately."
My bulldozer-like determination seemed to stun him into submission. Before lunch, a neat pile of timber was waiting at the construction site.
"Alright. Let's begin."
I removed my cumbersome outer coat, leaving me in a simple shirt. I pulled on a pair of sturdy work gloves and picked up a shovel. The handle felt surprisingly comfortable in my hands.
All those manual labor jobs during vacation are finally paying off.
I started with the foundation, digging up the earth and moving it to the build site, tamping it down in thin, solid layers. A common mistake was to pile up too much soil at once. The surface would seem firm, but the inside would remain soft, leading to a tilted building years later. I wouldn't make that mistake.
As I worked, I glanced over at Kaelen, who was standing nearby like a beautiful, silver-haired statue, diligently performing his escort duty.
"Hey."
"You called, my lady?"
"I did. I have an order for you."
"Yes?"
"You're going to help me dig."
The silence that followed was profound.
"Is there a problem?" I asked sweetly.
"…"
"If you help, the work will go twice as fast."
"…"
"Ah, what a shame. The boutique owner's poor mother must still be shivering from the cold. A warm radiant floor would soothe her suffering so much… but it will be delayed. Why? Because the noble Sir Valerius refuses to dig."
"…"
"Ah, if only she could warm her stiff joints on that floor, a smile might finally return to her face. But that joy will be postponed. Why? Because the honorable Sir Valerius refuses to dig."
"…"
"Ah, the simple, final wish of a woman who may not have much time left…"
"Give me a shovel."
A wicked grin spread across my face as Kaelen, his jaw tight, took the shovel I offered.
And so it began. The villainess lady of the barony and the silent, nameless knight, working side-by-side, digging a foundation. The news of the bizarre spectacle spread through the domain like wildfire.