The Star Troupe's book market bustled with people.
Irene trailed behind Joyce, chatting nonstop as they browsed the stalls. Joyce interjected here and there, but as usual, Irene did most of the talking.
"So many people! Even folks from the other two towns came. Sister Joyce, have you found the book you want? If you don't hurry, someone else might snatch it away."
Joyce smiled softly, unhurried.
"The Star Troupe only stays for five days. Yesterday was their first day setting up, so of course people will rush here after hearing the news."
"I didn't know so many people in the territory liked books."
Although Joyce's words didn't exactly answer her question, Irene continued the conversation without minding the lack of logic.
Joyce shook her head.
"This isn't about liking books. They just hope their children—or themselves—can one day hold a respectable job, instead of working hard their whole lives with no chance to rise."
Irene sensed the heaviness behind Joyce's calm tone. She knew Joyce's parents had been miners who died in an accident, and that Blake had taken pity on her and recommended her to the Baron's Manor.
"So their goal is just to buy introductory materials," Joyce continued. "Unlike me—whether I go early or late, it doesn't matter. I'm not in a rush. Let me help you find your cookbook first."
"Okay! With Sister Joyce helping, I'll definitely get the best one."
When it came to books, Irene trusted Joyce completely.
Time passed unnoticed.
Ron had already spent two hours wandering the book market—and Sig had spent two hours tailing him. Ron had long noticed, but didn't bother exposing him.
During this time, Ron found several rare books on philosophy and science. The stall owner said they'd been sitting there for years without a single buyer.
Ron first felt surprised, then laughed.
In a world dominated by swords and magic, anyone talking philosophy would seem insane.
He bought the science books. They were cheap—ten copper coins for three.
After browsing enough, Ron decided it was time to leave. A pity he hadn't met the Star Troupe's leader. As he wondered what Joyce and Irene had bought, he spotted the two girls at a nearby stall.
"Have you bought everything you wanted?" Ron approached, smiling.
"Young Master!"
Both greeted him. Irene sounded natural; Joyce sounded stiff and cautious.
Ron noticed Irene holding two thin booklets, while Joyce held a thick hardcover tome that looked quite valuable.
"With Sister Joyce's help, I picked the two best ones! This one is a cookbook from all twelve kingdoms, and this one is an ingredient atlas!"
Without Ron asking, Irene reported everything proudly. Ron glanced at the atlas and curiously opened it.
He didn't recognize a single ingredient. Some looked bizarre or revolting, yet the descriptions claimed they tasted delicious—and were especially good for soup.
Irene leaned in.
"Five-whiskered worms can't be found in Carlo Kingdom. Only the Kata Kingdom has—"
"No. Absolutely not."
Ron shut the book immediately and handed it back.
"It's almost lunchtime. Let's head back."
But both girls hesitated.
"What is it?" Ron asked.
Joyce stepped forward before Irene could speak.
"Irene , let me explain. This is my own matter."
Facing Ron, she said, "I want to buy a certain book, but the price exceeds my budget. Most of my savings went into buying this one."
"Oh? How much are these books?" Ron thought, Isn't the manor salary decent? Why can't she afford two books?
"The one in my hand is ten silver." Joyce said quietly. "And the other one…"
"Eighty silver coins! Are you buying it or not? You call him Young Master, so he must be rich! Borrow money from him!"
The stall owner's thunderous voice blasted like a bell in their ears.
Ron expected a burly giant—only to see a dwarf. Barely 1.3 meters tall.
He stared, surprised.
"What are you looking at? Rude brat! Are you buying or not?"
The dwarf glared, clearly displeased by Ron's scrutiny.
"My apologies," Ron said calmly. "I've never traveled before, so I was curious. If I offended you, I apologize."
The dwarf grunted, accepting the apology, and repeated his question.
"I want to buy it," Ron said, "but the price is outrageous. How about twenty silver?"
"Twenty?! No sale!"
Irene and Joyce stared blankly at Ron. Who would've thought a noble Lord could haggle like this? If Egbert saw this, he'd probably faint.
After several failed attempts, Ron sighed and looked toward Joyce.
He hadn't expected such stubbornness.
"You all can leave! I'm not selling anymore."
The dwarf stuffed the book under his arm, visibly irritated.
"Hey! Aren't you a bookseller? Why hide the book when someone wants to buy it?"
"Who said I was a bookseller? I'm not selling it! Go on!"
"If you're not selling, why sit at a bookstall?"
"I, Hadley, am a blacksmith! This stall belongs to the Troupe Leader. I'm only watching it!"
A blacksmith?!
No wonder he had no scholar's temperament like the previous sellers—or Joyce.
Suddenly, Ron realized a crucial point:
Hadley was clearly close to the Star Troupe's leader.
"Since you're only watching the stall, why hide the book?"
"This book is mine! I can do whatever I want with it. The marked books are the ones for sale!"
"Mister Hadley," Ron said earnestly, "we truly want to buy your book. That's why we've stayed so long."
Hadley's expression softened.
"But eighty silver is too expensive. You should at least explain why it's worth that much."
Hadley hesitated. Finally, he sighed.
"All right. I'll tell you the origin. You definitely won't lose money."
Ron: "We'll judge that ourselves."
Hadley began:
"I got this book from a beautiful woman. She said it records a secret of the Olivia Empire."
"A royal secret for eighty silver?" Ron blurted, unable to stop himself.
Hadley flushed with anger, but Ron gestured for him to continue.
"She asked me to forge a crystal ball and paid with this book. Then she disappeared."
"What secret does it contain?" Ron asked.
Hadley shook his head.
"I don't know. I never opened it."
Everyone froze.
"You didn't even look?!"
"It's a royal secret of the Olivia Empire! I don't want trouble!"
Ron rubbed his forehead.
"So she might've lied. What if there's no secret? Is it still worth eighty silver?"
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
Hadley's confidence was crumbling.
Ron struck while the iron was hot.
"Mister Hadley, let's compromise. We raise our offer by thirty silver. You lower your price by thirty. Fifty silver. How about it?"
"No—"
"Mister Hadley," Ron cut him off quickly, "the information you shared might not even be true. We're taking the risk buying it. Or does Mister Hadley want money without effort? Are all members of the Star Troupe like this?"
At the last sentence, Ron shifted his gaze.
A tall, bronze-skinned man stepped out from behind Hadley.
He'd noticed him earlier—and his provocation worked perfectly.
"Hadley," the man said, "sell it to them. I'll pay the difference."
"Troupe Leader Cheers," Hadley called out respectfully.
Ron smiled inwardly.
As expected—this was the leader of the Star Troupe.
"Are you implying we can't afford it?" Ron asked, playing the rich young master role flawlessly.
"Of course not," Cheers replied with perfect composure. "This is simply an apology for any trouble caused by the Star Troupe."
Ron found him interesting—kind yet cunning.
"No need. I can afford it."
Ron handed Hadley fifty silver coins. Irene stared at him, wondering what had gotten into him today.
Hadley glanced at Cheers, who nodded, and completed the transaction.
As Ron prepared to leave, Cheers stepped forward.
"It's nearly lunchtime. May I treat Young Master to a meal? The Star Troupe has collected ingredients from many nations, and we have a renowned chef. The dishes will not disappoint."
Ron pretended to think for a moment.
"Very well. I'll try foreign cuisine today."
Cheers smiled politely. "An honor for us. Please allow me a moment—I have a small matter to tend to. Someone will escort you."
As Ron left, Cheers whispered to Hadley:
"Invite the knight following him as well."
Hadley scanned the crowd and spotted Sig instantly.
Inside a simple tent, only Ron, Irene , Joyce, Sig, and Cheers stood.
Cheers bowed deeply.
"My apologies for hosting you in such a humble place, Lord Arnold."
Irene and Joyce's eyes widened. Sig instantly drew his sword, positioning himself before Ron.
Cheers remained calm, still bowing.
"Sig, put the sword away," Ron said. "If he meant harm, he wouldn't have stood three meters away."
Sig reluctantly obeyed, still on guard.
"Thank you for your leniency, Lord," Cheers said. "Judging from your expression, you do not seem surprised?"
"Surprised that you know who I am? You already hinted at it earlier," Ron replied coolly.
"Lord truly has exceptional insight."
"You can skip the flattery."
Ron eyed him carefully. He had underestimated this man. From the moment he appeared, Cheers had been treating Ron with the etiquette reserved for nobility—just subtle enough not to reveal it.
"Didn't you say there were good dishes? Bring them."
Cheers immediately ordered the meal. Plates of exquisite food were served. A chef stood proudly beside them.
"This is our famous chef, Worton," Cheers introduced. "Worton, please introduce the dishes."
Worton was surprised to learn Ron was a Lord, but quickly recovered and explained each dish respectfully.
Ron lifted his knife and fork—but Joyce stopped him.
"Lord, let me taste first."
Although her action bordered on disrespect, the intention behind her eyes was clear: protecting him from possible poison.
Cheers and Worton both understood. Worton's face stiffened with offense, though he said nothing.
"It's fine. Thank you, Joyce," Ron said gently.
"But, Lord—"
Ron speared a piece of meat, placed it into his mouth, and savored it slowly.
A smile spread across his lips.
"It truly is delicious. A famous chef indeed. Adding anything else would be an insult. Everyone, try it. And where's Mister Hadley? Invite him too—I still want to talk with him."
Worton's expression instantly turned proud.
"Thank you, Lord. Your praise honors me."
Joyce bowed and apologized to him.
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