Officially, all perfumes from Salon Rue were the work of Madame Oted.
Lancelot du Lac, who was born and raised in Britain, was well aware of this.
“The owner of Salon Rue has never changed. Nor have they ever hired anyone else separately.”
“I’m not a perfume expert, but if I were you, I would choose this scent for the banquet.”
Olivia had precisely selected a cool, refreshing fragrance.
“The other scents, how should I put it, have too strong a base. They’re intense from start to finish, so I think the scent would be more memorable than the lady herself. Perfume should serve to highlight the lady, not be the main focus.”
It was a sharp assessment from a working professional.
After examining all the other testing strips, she pointed out something unexpected, based on her experience and accumulated expertise.
“I don’t know much about it, but I get the feeling all the other scents were trying to copy something. A sharp opening, a smooth dry-down. But it doesn’t suit them… Which of these was the first perfume released?”
“The scent at the very front was my first work.”
Click-clack—
The moment Olivia finished speaking, the sound of high heels echoed from behind.
Creeeak—
Through the opened gap stood a woman with long, thick, dark brown wavy hair tossed over her shoulder. Her dress, embroidered as if with real flowers, added to the visual opulence.
Click-clack, click-clack——
As she walked over, she pointed a finger at the three sample bottles.
“In order, these are the first works I began creating, and they are also Salon Rue’s bestsellers.”
I think I understand why the mercenaries considered them arrogant.
Their elegant gait and mannerisms were similar to noble etiquette, and even their speech was identical to that of the aristocracy.
Although the owners of salons mostly learned etiquette and refinement, it was rare for them to use it so directly.
After all, acting like a noble would inevitably lead to being criticized by the guests.
Belatedly, she lifted the hem of her dress slightly with one hand and bent her knee in a curtsy.
“I am Madame Oted. I had heard Sir Lancelot was here, but it seems an unexpected and welcome guest has arrived as well.”
“It is only natural courtesy to offer the most famous perfume in Britannia to such a distinguished person.”
Lancelot deflected the greeting with his characteristic light tone and subtly shifted back, as if introducing Morgana.
Morgana also gave a slight nod of her head.
“A pleasure. Morgana le Fay.”
“You are the most famous person in the capital of Britannia these days.”
Since it was a shop that catered to nobles, they must have heard many stories. Though she omitted much, her words implied she had a general understanding of the factional fights within the royal palace.
Morgana pointed to the famous perfume and asked another question.
“I heard you make an excellent product.”
“Thank you for such high praise. I’ve been quite worried lately, as many say my recent work hasn’t been living up to my earlier form.”
She seemed aware of the fact that she hadn’t been able to surpass her initial creations.
Morgana pointed to the perfume with the refreshing scent and asked.
“I am looking for a specific scent. Do you happen to have any other varieties that have a brilliant, striking top note like this perfume? Could you perhaps recommend some?”
“Hmm, there is perfume number one…”
Madam Oted walked through a place lined with numerous scent testers.
After walking for a while, she picked up one of the testers and handed it over.
“This has chrysanthemum in it, so it has a rather splendid scent.”
It has a floral scent, but isn’t it supposed to be sweet?
Morgana’s doubt remained even after smelling the scent.
The fragrance was uniquely sharp, to the point where it was hard to believe it was meant to be chrysanthemum.
After hearing Olivia’s words, she realized most perfumes have a very strong initial scent. When Morgana smelled it and gave no response, she handed over another tester.
“This is also one of my cherished perfumes. The initial note is quite refreshing, you see.”
This time, conversely, the mint scent was so strong it made her nose tingle.
It was enough to make one doubt whether she really created her first work herself.
Morgana deliberately handed back the last tester she had been given.
“I like this one the most. May I have one of these?”
“Oh my, would you really? It seems the most famous person in Britain has exquisite taste as well.”
She was so visibly pleased that it was hard to believe she had been acting so haughty until just moments before.
She was trying her best to keep a straight face, but her continuous smiling and friendly demeanor made it obvious to anyone that she was in a good mood.
“Is there nothing else you’d like? We’re not just famous for our perfumes; our dresses and parasols are also quite renowned.”
“Then, shall I take a look at the parasols?”
“While we wrap up the perfume, would you like to come out and choose one? Hey, come here and show the guest our parasols.”
At her call, an employee quickly approached.
“I’ll guide you. Please follow me.”
“Then I’ll prepare your order while you look. Just a moment.”
Oted placed a hand over her chest, offered a greeting, then lightly disappeared into the warehouse.
Only after she had vanished did Lancelot, who had been smiling brightly, ask in a ventriloquist’s voice.
“It didn’t seem like you were very fond of it.”
This is why I can’t stand perceptive kids.
It wasn’t actually bought to be used as perfume.
However, Oted’s behavior made it seem, as Olivia had said, like someone who had tried their hand at perfumery without knowing much about it, so it was just a comment tossed out to check.
Though the price was quite high, fitting for a high-end perfume, it was an amount that didn’t even make a scratch in Morgana’s finances, now that she had gotten her hands on Tir na Nog’s money.
Money is meant to be spent freely when you have it.
‘She didn’t seem to particularly like the steady sellers.’
It was the perfume that first made Salon Rue famous in Britain.
If she had to compare it, it felt like the medicinal tea of Tir na Nog, but since it consistently brought in money, what reason was there to dislike it?
As if to prove a point, her complexion brightened as she chose a different perfume.
Following the employee’s guidance, Morgana replied as she walked.
“Let’s call it an investment. People usually have to be in an open and receptive mood to let information slip.”
It’s a cheap price to pay for information.
Morgana followed the employee and moved to where the parasols were.
On one wall of the spacious shop, her life story was written like a history, accompanied by small illustrations and text.
Seven years ago, she first worked as a maid under a small tailor, learning the trade by watching over their shoulder.
Five years ago, she opened her own shop.
Five years ago, beneath the words announcing the opening of Salon Rue, a small bluebird and flowers were drawn.
As Morgana stared intently at it, an employee opened a parasol and explained.
“Ah, three daisies and one pink rose are the official seals of our salon.”
“Then what is this bluebird for?”
“That’s just, um… wh-where there are flowers, birds will naturally fly in.”
The long-tailed bluebird had yellow pigment on the tips of its wings and tail feathers.
It was not a bird easily found in reality.
And the present. The start date of the fragrance business was not listed.
Along the path following the history, a painting of Salon Rue’s flowers was hanging abruptly.
The employee offered a parasol and asked.
“The design with lace details on the edge, like this, is the most popular. Would you like to see it?”
As Olivia moved to take the parasol and open it for her, Morgana lightly reached out her hand.
“No, I’ll open it myself. How it looks when it opens is important too.”
“As expected, the young lady knows her things.”
Olivia handed over the parasol without suspicion.
Morgana pretended to have difficulty opening it on purpose, gripping the handle and grunting.
Just before another employee stepped in, unable to watch.
Pop—
She opened the parasol, and the recoil pushed against a hanging frame. With a crash, as the frame fell from the wall, Morgana pretended not to know and made a fuss.
“Sorry, my mistake. I’ll pay for it, so just add it to the perfume bill later.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll clean it up right away.”
While the attendant, without suspicion and with practiced ease, straightened the wobbled table and the flower vase, Morgana, with her parasol hooked over her shoulder, stared at the wall.
Once the frame that had been hanging in the middle of the historical timeline was removed, a mark remained inside, as if another smaller piece of paper had been hung there for a long time.
It was exactly the same size as the paper with the timeline written on it that was just there.
Morgana pretended not to notice and turned her head.
As Olivia said, the person who made the perfume, the perfumer, didn’t seem to be here.
Probably one of the people close to Madame Oted.
There was no talk of them being business partners, but the bluebird that had been depicted together since the opening.
Madame Oted, who had no real talent for perfume.
‘I need to find out who uses the bluebird as their symbol.’
The one who created the genius, bestselling perfume was no longer at Salon Rue.
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