Swish.
A heavy gown fell to the floor, then was lifted by a slender, silk-clad foot and handed off to be hung on a coat rack by the wall.
Elaina sat at the edge of her bed, her fingers resting lightly at her waist. As her body moved with a gentle rhythm, the flesh-colored stockings slowly slid down her legs, like a shell being peeled from a boiled egg, revealing smooth, elastic skin to the damp summer air.
Her feet were long and elegant, with well-defined lines and delicate bone structure. The arch of her foot curved perfectly, and though there was no one to admire them, her ten translucent toes were adorned with a striking shade of purple from impatiens dye.
Rising onto her toes, Elaina stood up. Her hands moved behind her back, followed by the rustling sound of fabric. With a long, relaxed hum, a corset was unfastened and tossed into the wardrobe.
The full-length brass mirror was expensive, but under the dim evening light, its reflection was far from clear. Elaina walked up to it, letting her fingertips trace the silhouette of her sensual figure, her lips parting with a frustrated sigh.
She pressed her heated body against the mirror's cold surface, but it did nothing to cool the fire in her chest.
She was a mature and voluptuous woman—and yet, she hadn't been touched by a man in over a decade.
A man...
Her fingers brushed against her lips in the mirror, and inexplicably, Rus's face appeared in her mind. In an instant, the flames of desire were snuffed out.
Pulling a sheer nightdress from the wardrobe and slipping it on, Elaina sat down at her vanity.
Click. A porcelain hairpin was set aside on the table, and a cascade of dark, silky hair fell over her shoulders like a black cloud. Crossing her legs, she leaned closer to the mirror, gently tapping the corner of her eye with a finger. "Damn that man."
Just thinking about that scoundrel made her blood boil.
He had actually used her son to put on a show and win people's support, without a single thought for how she—his aunt—might feel!
The image of her son's injured forehead made her heart ache, her chest rising and falling with anger.
But a scoundrel was still a scoundrel. If he wanted financial backing, he would have no choice but to come to her.
Elaina now had a clearer picture of Rus: shameless, despicable, cunning, and greedy—especially with a nearly pathological obsession with power and titles.
Of course, it made sense. A rat from the gutter dreaming of becoming a glamorous noble—it was hardly surprising.
So Elaina was convinced: if Rus wanted to infiltrate noble circles, he would have to beg her.
Knock, knock, knock.
A crisp, rhythmic knock sounded on the door. Elaina felt a moment of smug satisfaction for her accurate prediction, though it was quickly followed by irritation.
Despite his lowly birth, Rus was nearly flawless in matters of etiquette. In all of Eagle Keep, only Old Gordon and Rus knocked like that—and Old Gordon would never visit her at this hour.
But how dare he come? Did he think a few sweet words and some groveling would be enough to make her give him money?
Elaina admitted she'd lost the upper hand during their last encounter, but this time, she was ready.
She would make Rus understand that the world did not bend to his will.
Throwing on a dark robe, she asked coldly, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Aunt," came Rus's voice—just as she had expected.
Elaina lowered her tone. "It's already late. You shouldn't be here."
"This is my castle," Rus replied. "And besides, you wouldn't want Westone to find out, would you?"
The mention of her son made Elaina's brow tighten.
She had spoiled Westone terribly. If he saw her meeting with Rus, who knows what kind of tantrum he'd throw.
With a creak, the door opened. Elaina returned to her vanity and sat down, her voice frosty. "What do you want?"
There were no slippers in this world, but the floor was covered in a soft wool carpet. Though she wore a deep purple robe, her legs and bare feet remained exposed.
Rus's eyes lingered on the ten purple-tinted toes. He clicked his tongue. "Aunt, did you dress like this just for me?"
Rolling her eyes, Elaina shifted her posture, leaning forward to hide her feet—but in doing so, she accentuated the curves she was most proud of.
Realizing this, she covered her chest with a hand. "Rus, do you really have nothing better to do?"
Rus averted his gaze. "Of course I do. But getting to spend time alone with such a beautiful lady? That takes precedence over everything."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere." Elaina crossed her arms. "You know what I want to hear. If you're not here for that, then leave."
Rus raised a brow and smiled. "I was surprised by what happened with Westone, too. But under the circumstances, it was the best option."
"I know it hurt you, Aunt. That's why I came to offer some... real compensation."
"Compensation?" Elaina let out a cold laugh. "And what exactly are you offering? I know the finances of Eagle's Reach better than you do. Are you going to give me the last of Hawk Town's rent?"
Rus didn't reply. Instead, he pulled a bottle of red wine from behind his back. "Why don't we talk this over with a drink?"
Elaina arched an eyebrow and rattled off, "Produced in 1176 of the Lumen Calendar, from the Ponge Vineyard. Marketed as the first red wine bottled in glass, which caused quite a stir. At its peak, it sold for seventy silver coins a bottle—but its taste and quality were mediocre. It's since dropped to forty."
She glanced at him with disdain. "This bottle's been opened already, and the wine is paler than real Amethyst. Baron Rus, are you trying to use the same tricks on me you use in Monne City?"
"Aunt Elaina, your eye for detail is as sharp as ever," Rus said with a grin. "You're right. It's not real Amethyst—but don't underestimate me."
"If I want to sleep with a woman, I don't need cheap tricks."
Elaina opened her mouth to snap back—but the words stuck in her throat.
Because, in truth, Rus was handsome.
Thick black hair gave him a sharp, energetic air. His dark eyes and chiseled features drew in anyone who looked at him. And tonight, wearing a light brown leather vest with a gray-blue cloak slung over one shoulder, he exuded a rugged charm.
With that kind of looks—and his usual silver tongue—it was no wonder women called him "Little Bee."
"Just one drink, Aunt Elaina," Rus said with a teasing smile. "Otherwise, the nights in Eagle Keep can get rather dull."
Before she could refuse, he poured himself a silver goblet of wine, downed it in one go, then poured half a cup and slid it across to her.
"If you still have nothing to say after this, I'll leave right away."
Elaina smirked. "If that's all you're offering, fine. But let me remind you—this level of effort won't make up for the pain you caused me and Westone. You're still not getting a single coin."
Rus said nothing, simply gesturing politely.
Gracefully, Elaina lifted the cup and took a sip. The moment the wine touched her tongue, her eyes lit up.
As a seasoned merchant, she'd tasted countless wines—but none had ever delighted her senses like this one.
There was no trace of the usual acidity. The texture was soft and silky, like milk. Its sweetness was honey-like without being cloying, and a subtle tang lent it a remarkable depth.
Despite herself, she finished the entire glass. A flush crept up her cheeks. "Where did you get this wine?"
"I made it," Rus said with a smile.
"You?" Elaina gave him a disbelieving look. "Impossible. You've only been in Eagle's Reach for half a month."
Rus chuckled. "Technically, it's just a small modification of an existing wine."
That made more sense. She pressed on, "What's the cost?"
"Oh, that's a trade secret," Rus said playfully. "But I can tell you this much—it's based on Magnus Vineyard's Flowing Amber."
Elaina blinked, then walked to the corner of the room and opened a cabinet, pulling out a clay jug. "This one?"
Five silver and seventy copper per jug—about a kilogram of red wine per container.
Rus nodded. "Of course."
Elaina opened the jug, poured some into a cup, and took a cautious sip—only to immediately frown.
Flowing Amber wasn't exactly fine wine, but it was good enough for casual meals and daily use.
But now, after tasting Rus's modified version, the original tasted like dishwater.
Was Rus truly this capable?
Elaina was still skeptical. "How do I know you're not lying?"
"Simple," Rus said, already prepared. He grabbed the jug, took out a sealed vial from his coat, poured in the liquid, and began gently shaking the jug.
A few minutes later, he pushed it back to her. "Go ahead."
Still doubtful, Elaina poured herself a new glass and cautiously touched it to her tongue.
No mistake—it was the exact same flavor as the wine Rus had brought!
As any good merchant would, she immediately began calculating costs and profits in her mind.