Volume 6 Chapter 21-2 It Is Common to Forget Because You Blend Into Everyday Life Too Much
She leaned forward on the desk, now resting against the backrest.
The madame crossed her legs in a dress, saying, "It's so noisy here."
It seemed mismatched with her elegant dress, but perhaps because she was an ex-adventurer, it oddly suited her.
"So what happened?"
"That's a given."
The smiling madame made a fist and said, "With persistent men──"
"As expected of the [War Maiden of a Thousand Needles]," she replied.
Flora tilted her cup with a wry smile, and the madame mirrored it with a bitter expression, saying, "Just let it go."
"That name reminds me of the past."
The melancholic madame murmured, "That person..." and then drank deeply from her cup, as if to blow those thoughts away.
Flora followed suit, drinking from her cup as the madame fully returned to her adventurer days.
"Still, why the madame?"
Flora tilted her head, thinking that while the madame was indeed an incredible former adventurer, she had already retired by then.
She spoke of other adventurers who must have been available for the task.
"I also didn't understand at first, but..."
The madame's bitter expression fell upon the freshly poured tea.
In the gently swirling tea, the madame's somewhat lonely eyes reflected back.
"Lady Flora, do you still have that dress?"
Taken aback by the sudden topic, Flora nodded with a puzzled expression, "Uh, yes."
"It's my supreme piece and my best memory."
The madame smiled slightly at Flora's grin, saying, "I see."
"That dress... actually has runes woven into it. Though it only glimmers a little."
"Runes, you say?"
Flora tilted her head, continuing, "It's the ancient wisdom of the dwarf, right?"
"Indeed. Apparently, I have dwarf ancestry."
The madame shrugged and pulled out a rune dictionary similar to the one Randy and the others had.
"I read it since I was young. Apparently, I picked up the technique to weave runes."
"Is that why you were targeted?"
The madame propped her chin and looked up at the glass roof, saying to wide-eyed Flora, "Probably."
"I didn't know. I thought it was just a trick. 'You've been looking lighter since you fixed your clothes,' they often said, but I never imagined it was a faded technique like runes."
"So, that's why you were targeted... right?"
"Yeah. After I retired and opened my shop, they showed up every single day."
The Madame laughed self-deprecatingly, her eyes far away as she said,
"One day, *that legend from the Adventurer's Era* said they'll wipe out the [Apostles of the Dark Sky]... but then they went missing."
"So, what happened then?"
Flora leaned forward involuntarily, and the Madame laughed, crossing her legs, saying, "That's bad manners."
"Well, it's just that..."
The Madame shook her head and spoke of how peace had returned, recounting her ascent as a designer, as history states.
"That person told me. Just in case, I should return to my old surname and stop the *trickery.*"
Flora, looking far away, instinctively covered her mouth, murmuring, "Well..."
They'd known each other for a long time, but she had no idea the Madame had been married.
"But when I was making your dress... I was a bit sleep-deprived and carelessly──"
The Madame scratched her head like a child caught in mischief, and Flora nodded, saying, "So that's why..."
The official reason for Madame Valmoir's retirement is that she created the finest piece.
It is what the public has been told.
In fact, even her 2 disciples say, "That work has yet to be surpassed."
But the truth is that the Madame sensed the dangers that could fall upon her and her disciples and laid down her needle.
The mysterious organization was supposed to be destroyed, but with busyness dulling her judgment and old habits resurfacing, there's no guarantee that it won't happen again.
If wicked people became aware of the Madame's power, they might exploit it this time.
Hence, she chose to retire to prevent any mistakes.
"So... I thought they were after me again this time."
The Madame picked up her cup and once again lowered her gaze to it.
"If that's the case... that person might show up again to save me... though I doubt it."
The Madame put the cup down without taking a sip, and Flora murmured, "He must have been a wonderful person."
"Wonderful, huh? He left me all alone. When I find him, I'll give him a good smack!"
Madame snorted, and Flora suggested using the Marquis family's influence to search.
"I'll pass. I want to believe they're alive."
The Madame sighed deeply, resting her chin on her hand.
"Just let me believe that I simply got tired of it and left..."
The weight of those words left Flora speechless, and she gazed up at the glass ceiling like the Madame.
* * *
"Damn it. That old monster."
"It's all the young master's fault. Absolutely. The young master's fault."
"You were laughing at the photos too."
"I wasn't."
The slanted evening sun cast long shadows over the two sprawled in the training ground.
"Well then. Shall we resume?"
Keith, with a cheerful face, was met with Randy sitting up and raising his palm.
"I feel heavy today. You know, I think I'm catching a cold."
Randy exaggeratedly coughed, "Cough cough."
"A cold, you say?"
Randy nodded, "Exactly," to Keith's furrowed brow, but...
"That's impossible. Fools don't catch colds."
"Indeed. I have no recollection of the young master ever falling ill."
The sharp-tongued mentor and disciple poked at Randy's lie.
"Are you two picking a fight? I can catch a cold too──"
"If you're that healthy, then there's no problem. We'll push hard until Ms. Elizabeth returns."
"No, I really feel heavy──"
Randy had forgotten.
The existence of the 'Suppression Rune' woven into his clothes by Liz and Ellie.
"You're definitely going to tell the ex-wife. 'Your husband is a pervert who enjoys bullying his disciple──'"
Keith pulled the cuffs of his gloves tightly with a frown.
The gloves creaked as they tightened,
"Just kidding..."
But it was too late for Randy, who turned pale.
"You still have the energy to spout such nonsense. I could be a bit harsher."
"Noooooo!"
"See! It's the young master's fault!"
The cheat-like final boss, the musclehead he acknowledged, and the housekeeper who raised him would shatter the Madame and Flora's gloom more easily than breaking the glass ceiling, but that was a tale for another time.
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