Rosie's Games

Chapter 20: Boring Tales

Rey Pratt was a thirty-three-year-old man who had started doing business before he could speak. Or at least that's what his father told him.

Growing up traveling and selling merchandise in cities and empires, Pratt developed a keen sense of instinct that had saved him on more than one occasion.

This instinct had saved him since he took over the business years ago, and for years, Pratt had experienced and mingled with different types of people and cultures.

Over time, Pratt had his own debts to pay. Some of them involve his life while some were for his business, but none of them made him feel as awkward and... confused as the woman who was sitting across from him with a cordial smile on her face.

After his daughter woke up, she told everyone she felt lighter and better. However, this didn't mean that the treatment had worked.

They needed to wait for the night to determine if the pain would return. After all, a dark curse that someone has had since they were born would only show symptoms during the night.

The immense pain that Alma would feel every night had traumatized not just him, but his whole family. He could only hope that the treatment had worked.

"Three nights," the woman smiled. "She won't feel pain for the next three nights. That should be plenty of time for us to talk about the conditions that I have."

"You seemed confident that Alma would really feel better. You must not forget that if you fail" he was about to tell her that he would have her head. "There are consequences."

The woman gave him a rather bland smile. It was as if she had already expected this. Pratt was certain that this was the first time that he met this woman yet he couldn't remove the feeling that she somehow knew him.

No matter how much he thought about the past, he couldn't remember meeting her. Was it because she looked ordinary? Yes, the woman looked nothing special. She had black hair and dark brown eyes her face was something that one would see in the streets.

Pratt wasn't even sure if this was a disguise as his people assured him that the woman wasn't holding any relic that could change her appearance. How could someone just walk inside the black market without a disguise?

The woman must have other methods to disguise herself.

Then was it black magic?

No. Those people the black magicians were all males. Moreover, relics can only change physical appearance but never gender.

"Are you going to tell me your name?" he asked.

"Lin."

"Lin?"

"Anonymity, Mr. Pratt. I am sure that is the least you could give someone who is going to make your daughter feel better."

Pratt narrowed. The woman's confidence astounded him.

If the woman knew him well, then she should have heard about the rumors of his cruelty, not just in business but in all of his affairs.

His daughter was a very touchy topic even for him, and he wasn't someone that wouldn't hesitate to punish anyone who would make him feel like a joke. The sourc𝗲 of this content nov(𝒆l)bi((n))

"You seem confident that she will feel better?" he asked.

"Are you not?"

"Confidence differs from being hopeful, Miss Lin."

The woman snorted.

"I am leaving."

Pratt nodded. Seeing this, the woman paused.

"You will not hold me captive?" she asked.

He would have.

Logic dictates that he needed to make her stay until the night falls when he would determine if what she said about his child was true.

But the Duke told him to let her go.

The Duke seemed confident that she would come back.

"I am giving you two nights, Mr. Pratt," Rosalind said. "I will be back after that. Let's discuss everything then."

With that, the woman got up and left without saying another word.

A loud sigh echoed inside the room as Pratt got up and went to see the Duke that was waiting for him in the next room.

To his surprise, however, the Duke was nowhere to be seen.

"He left," Deny, the man with intimidating red eyes, told him. He turned and realized that Deny, the mysterious guard of the Duke, had disappeared too.

Seeing this, Pratt could only give a low chuckle. Then he shook his head and went straight to his daughter's room.

Tonight will be a very long night.

.......

Rosalind couldn't stop herself from smiling as she started walking down the streets of the black market. In the past, she was only able to get into this place when she reached the age of thirty-eight!

By then, the place was very prosperous. Everything that was against the law could be found in this market.

She glanced at the array of weapons and poisons that were displayed on the side of the cobblestone street that was almost identical to the streets that could be found in the capital.

She had no idea who created this place. There were rumors that all the black markets were located in another plane that was a remnant of the wars against the Dark Lord.

In the past, those things were too complicated for her to understand, but she thought of studying about the Dark Lord, his dark arts, and the possibility that her darkness Blessing might be connected to the man who terrorized the continent thousands of years ago.

"Hm?" she lifted an eyebrow when she found a bookstore. She didn't hesitate and immediately went inside.

She was just thinking about her lack of knowledge! What were the odds that she would stumble upon a bookstore?

"Miss? Where do you want to go next?" Marcella's voice interrupted her stupor. "I can take you to "

"There " Without hesitation, she pointed at the bookstore.

She went inside and immediately started reading some books, hoping to find something about the Dark Lord or the history of the seven blessed individuals. But what she found was something about magic and swordsmanship and some romance novels and poems that everyone seemed to love in the capital.

"What a coincidence," a clear voice interrupted her stupor. She lifted her eyes and was surprised to see a man wearing a black mask. The mask didn't actually surprise her, but that she immediately recognized the man behind the mask. "I didn't know that boring tales interest you as well," he said.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning. In her panic, she had forgotten that she was wearing a different face.

How did the Duke of the North recognize her?