Collector’s Cage - Chapter 9

Dormi nodded languidly. His indifferent answer didn’t put her mind at ease.

“If you don’t keep your promise, I’ll expose everything! You think I’ll die alone?!”

“Ah, I said I got it!”

She only felt a bit more at ease after that final threat. Not long after finishing the contract, the carriage jolted to a stop.

“We’ve arrived!”

Dormi lifted the cage. Inside, Hermie staggered from the small shake and tumbled forward.

“Ouch! Be careful!”

She was bruised all over from rolling around inside the cage. Dormi got out of the carriage and trudged into a dark alley.

“How long do you think the research will take?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“But you must have an estimate.”
“A month? Two months?”
“It’ll take two months? You said since you succeeded once, you could complete it quickly!”
“Well, I have to get another Fairy’s Tear first. Do you have any idea how long it takes to get a Fairy’s Tear?”

Hermie’s mouth clamped shut at Dormi’s valid retort. It had taken the Pumpkin Flower Guild two months to acquire a Fairy’s Tear as well.

But that wasn’t her only worry.

“…Do you really think he’ll believe I’m a fairy?”

Dormi lifted the cage to face level. Hermie, buried in the handkerchief, looked quite adorable even to Dormi, who had no sense of aesthetics.

“If you just don’t curse, I think he’ll believe it?”
“I don’t have wings, and there’s no sparkling dust.”
“Well, say they got damaged when you were captured.”
“What if he doesn’t buy it because it’s defective?”

Dormi shook his head as if she was worrying about everything.

“Sigh, how many people in the wide world have actually seen a real fairy that you’re worrying about?”
“…”
“If you just say it’s a rare fairy, he won’t spare any expense.”
“Just who is this person rolling in money?”
“Marquis Froy Ozette.”
“What?!”

An unexpected name popped out of Dormi’s mouth, and Hermie was so shocked she nearly fell over.

Working for a merchant guild required memorizing noble family names and faces as a basic skill.

Occasionally, transactions with nobles happened, and if you failed to recognize their status and made a mistake or caused offense, a small guild could be ruined overnight.

“S-s-so, we’re going to that person right now?”

Nobles were generally arrogant and haughty, but he was particularly notorious among merchants.

Marquis Froy Ozette was famous for his handsome looks and as a collector of rare items, but merchants who traded with him detested his pickiness.

He was an obsessive collector; if he took a liking to an item, artwork, or rare object, he had to have it regardless of the cost or who owned it. Some merchants had even crossed deserts to find items he sought.

Conversely, he was merciless towards items he deemed worthless. There were tales of him refusing to buy something a merchant had painstakingly brought across a desert simply because it didn’t please him, which spoke volumes about his exacting standards.

Finding something to his liking was difficult in itself, and once an item entered his possession, it would never see the light of day again.

Marquis Froy had earned the nickname “the devil who devours rarities.” His beautiful appearance made the devilish nickname fit all too well.

“Why? Do you know him? Ah, that’s a problem then. He’ll find out you’re not a fairy!”

“I don’t know him personally! I’ve just heard a lot because he’s so famous…”

“Phew, what a relief.”

Why does his sigh of relief look so irritating? Who’s the one being marched into the depths of hell here!

Hermie clamped her mouth shut and tried to calm her seething insides.

“I heard that noble is incredibly meticulous.”

“Yes. I know that too. But it’ll be fine this time.”

Dormi flashed a sly smile, as if he had some hidden confidence. Hermie’s heart pounded anxiously.

Dormi, now in high spirits at the thought of selling Hermie off for funds, hummed a tune and quickened his pace. The cage swayed with each of his steps. Adjusting the handkerchief, Hermie looked around with fearful eyes.

‘Can I trust this bastard? I’m not totally screwed, right? I won’t have to live like this forever, will I?!’

For a moment, her eyes met those of a baby mouse emerging from a sewer drain. It was slightly larger than Hermie, making it feel almost wolf-like. She ducked back into the handkerchief, trembling pitifully.

The roads, buildings, even the sewer rats. Suddenly, everything had become terrifyingly, unbelievably huge, making her afraid to stick her head out.

In her current state, Hermie was so small and weak that she wouldn’t even make a snack for a stray dog relieving itself on a distant wall.

It meant that one wrong move could end her life without a sound.