Chapter 08
Ordelphia let out another sigh as she glanced around the lobby, where not even an ant, let alone a person, had shown up for hours.
Do we really have no time left? At this rate, the hotel will go under.
It was still afternoon, but she had already been at the front desk for two hours.
In all that time, not a single guest had appeared, and as the manager, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of crisis.
Ssshhhh—
“The rain really is pouring down too hard.”
The heavens ignored her impatience and mercilessly unleashed a downpour.
Should I just consider today’s business a total loss? If it’s only for today, fine, but if this keeps up…
〈Do you really think you can live on your own out there?〉
The familiar voice of her mother echoed in her ears, and Ordelphia’s brow furrowed slightly.
She didn’t care about living well. She just wanted to live.
If she stayed in that house, if she was forced into marriage with a man she didn’t even know, she felt she truly wouldn’t be able to breathe—so she had run away.
“Hhh…”
She realized she had forgotten to breathe again while lost in thought, and drew in a deep breath of air.
Whenever she was alone, she had to press down those sticky, unpleasant feelings that crept up on her.
“Don’t think about it.”
The moment she spoke her resolve aloud, her blurred vision cleared.
“No, this won’t do. I need to do something.”
She deliberately busied herself, rummaging through the desk, and for the third time let out a sigh—just as a shadow flickered through the wide-open hotel doors.
Instantly, her dead eyes lit up. She cleared her throat and checked her attire.
It was far too simple to be called the dress of a count’s daughter, but as the outfit of a hotel clerk, it was neat and appropriate enough.
“Hm. Hem-hem.”
It was supposed to be a simple job, but since it was her first time doing it—and since it meant dealing with strangers—her fingers were icy with nerves.
The hotel lobby was wide, and the open doors let in a chill breeze that swept over her shoulders.
“Should I ask someone to stoke the fire higher before the guest comes in?”
She muttered as she glanced at the roaring fireplace on one side of the lobby, but soon shook her head.
No. She needed to focus on the customer about to step in.
The very guest I’ve been waiting for.
She knew she couldn’t be perfect from the start, but still, Ordelphia wanted to greet them perfectly—at least as well as the first desk clerk she’d ever met, Sebastian.
How much time passed?
Click, clack, click.
The sound of heels—though with a strange echo—approached, and at last, the first guest she’d been waiting for stood at the desk.
“Welcome to the Hillgrace Hotel.”
Ordelphia recited the line she’d practiced alone, deliberately curling her lips into a smile.
“Ah, yes.”
It was a woman’s voice, low but clear.
“Did you happen to make a reservation?”
She already knew no reservations had been made for today, but she asked anyway, her lips trembling.
The muscles she rarely used were pulled so forcefully into a smile that they were on the verge of cramping.
“No.”
Thankfully, the guest seemed not to notice. Ordelphia quickly continued.
“In that case, do you have a preference for your room? Our Hillgrace Hotel sits atop a hill, so the view outside the windows is quite beautiful. Once you choose a room, I can also guide you through some of our prepared services.”
It was only after she rattled off the prepared lines that she realized: in this torrential rain, boasting about the view was hardly appropriate.
But if the speaker panicked or flustered, even a small mistake could ruin everything.
Feigning composure, she neither corrected herself nor tried to explain further, and simply waited for the answer.
The woman studied her for a moment, then shook her head.
“Nothing special. Just… something warm would be nice. I got drenched in the rain. Preferably a room with a fireplace. If I could sip a hot glass of mulled wine in front of it, I’d ask for nothing more.”
Drip. Drip-drip.
Indeed, just as the woman said.
Though Ordelphia had clearly seen her close an umbrella at the entrance, water still dripped heavily from the woman’s outer garment.
It wasn’t waterproof leather but plain cloth, soaked through to the lining.
Did she get drenched because the rain was so heavy? But the wind isn’t even that strong… Did her umbrella break?
She set aside her small doubts and opened her mouth.
“Yes, madam. Currently, the vacant rooms are—”
Her words faltered abruptly.
She knew very well how bad it was to leave a sentence unfinished, but she could no longer continue.
A red umbrella.
That was what the woman’s pale hand was clutching tightly.
Ordelphia’s gaze instinctively flicked to the worn leather rulebook kept under the desk.
Rule No. 12: Do not accept female guests carrying red umbrellas on rainy days.
〈You still have your first copy of the rulebook, don’t you?〉
Before beginning her duties, the manager had hinted at the rules, asking if she had memorized them properly.
〈Yes. I have it, and I know it well.〉
She had proudly said she had memorized all 19 rules.
She hadn’t expected to have to apply one so soon…
The guest tilted her head at Ordelphia’s silence.
“So, what about the vacant room?”
“Ah, forgive me. Could you wait just a moment?”
Ordelphia swallowed dryly, hiding it, and opened the rulebook under the guise of checking the ledger.
Rule No. 12 was unchanged.
Rainy day. Red umbrella. Female guest. Do not accept.
She shut her eyes tightly, then opened them again. A rush of conflict passed through her, but she reached her conclusion.
This guest could not be accepted.
She was curious about what penalty awaited if the rule was broken—but she had no desire to find out firsthand.
Her instincts told her the consequences would not be pleasant.
When rules existed, it was always better to follow them. Especially in situations where you knew nothing.
And so, staring at the guest she had so long waited for, Ordelphia forced out the words:
“I’m terribly sorry, madam. It seems all our rooms are currently occupied. My apologies.”
“…What?”
“There are no vacancies.”
The guest blinked, astonished, and asked twice more as if to confirm.
But the answer never changed.
“What, are you serious? Then you should have told me right away when I came in!”
“I sincerely apologize.”
Stripped of her smile, Ordelphia bowed repeatedly, so earnestly that the guest, though angry, could no longer vent her frustration. She finally left, dripping wet.
“You could at least dry yourself before going…”
Ordelphia had offered, but the guest only snapped irritably:
〈Forget it. I need to find another inn right away.〉
Ordelphia let out a deep sigh.
It was such a waste. She was so frustrated she wanted to stamp her feet.
But before those feelings could fester, she shoved them deep inside.
“All because she had to be carrying a red umbrella.”
As she wiped the water that had dripped onto the desk, she prayed that this guest wouldn’t be the last of the day.
But three hours later—
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh, honestly. Forget it! Do apologies make a room appear?”
“I’m sorr—”
Before she could even finish, the guest snapped her umbrella violently, spraying water, and stormed out.
Ordelphia wiped the raindrops that had splattered on her cheek, her eyes as lifeless as a dead fish’s.
She had been at the desk for five hours now.
After chatting briefly with a few staff members who had since gone home early due to the worsening rain, she was left alone again.
During that time, she had welcomed eight guests in total.
And every single one had been a woman.
Carrying a red umbrella.
At first, she thought it was just a shame.
By the second, a coincidence?
By the third, too much to be a coincidence.
By the fourth, someone must be playing a prank.
By the fifth, don’t tell me they all bought their umbrellas in bulk from the same shop outside?
By the sixth through the eighth, she was on the verge of blurting out:
“We do have vacancies! You can stay in whichever room you’d like! Please, just stay at our hotel!”
But with superhuman patience, she forced herself to turn away every red-umbrella woman.
Now, staring out at the pitch-black night beyond the hotel doors, Ordelphia bit her lip hard.
“…Does this even make sense?”
