Cleio Aser, Registered at Seventeen (5)
The next afternoon, Cleio, who had just returned from her classics class and was taking a nap, was awakened by an uninvited guest.
It was a hotel courier sent by Katarina, Chel's mother and a hotel entrepreneur. The courier brought a sealed envelope.
The envelope was made of thick paper with elegant embellishments. The courier, too, was tall and impeccably dressed in the uniform of the De Neige Hotel chain, without a single wrinkle.
'She really does care about appearances, doesn't she?'
Cleio, still drowsy from her nap, yawned continuously even as she signed the receipt for the courier.
The moment the courier turned the dormitory corner and disappeared, Cleio tore open the envelope.
Despite the grand formality, the contents were simple — a single card with only the time and place written on it.
Saturday, 3 p.m., Camellia Hall
— Katarina Tempête de Neige
'It's Monday today, so that's five days later? Works fine for me if she's in a hurry.'
Rubbing her eyes to shake off her sleepiness, Cleio immediately went down to the matron's office to call Dione.
First, a polite operator answered, then Levi, the Grayor family's secretary, picked up and connected her to the drawing room.
["If you're calling, that must mean it's good news, right?"]
"I think you're the one with the gift of 'foresight,' not me, Lady Dione."
["Ahahaha. Alright, just tell me what's going on."]
"There's something I'll need you to handle as my agent rather than guardian. The matter we've been waiting for."
["How did she contact you?"]
"A card. Only the time and place written."
There was a crash on the other end, as if something had been broken, and Dione quickly spoke again.
["Got it. Send that card to me through a courier right away. Same terms as before?"]
"Yes, no intention to sell. We'll proceed with a lease contract."
["I'll prepare the paperwork. Come to my house Saturday morning — I'll send a carriage."]
It was a reassuring answer.
***
Five days passed quickly.
The Grayor Trading Company building stood near the Royal Circus, overlooking St. Lizabeth Square — right in the city center.
The family's reception room occupied the second floor. Though the building looked modest from the street, the lot stretched deep to the back, making the interior quite spacious.
Dione, half-reclined among exotically patterned cushions, greeted Cleio.
"Here you are. Sit wherever you like."
Wearing only a robe and her hair loosely tied, Dione looked uncharacteristically casual — but still stunning, of course. Perhaps talk of money worked better on her complexion than any cosmetic; her cheeks were flushed like ripe fruit.
"You must've worked hard preparing the documents over the past five days."
"It's a profitable job. No reason to feel tired."
She casually picked up Lady Katarina's card and fluttered it between her fingers.
"Normally, a major contract like this wouldn't be settled in a single meeting... but this time, we might be able to close it right away."
"What makes you think so?"
"Katarina has to attend the Dernié Continent Hospitality Conference starting next week. This year it's being held in the Kingdom of Phedre. Even with express trains and ferries, it'll take a day and a half to get there. Once she's back, another week will have flown by."
"Sorry to interrupt, but... what exactly is a hospitality conference?"
"It's a gathering of everyone in the lodging industry from across the continent — even overseas. They exchange information and scope out competitors. You remember when the Dernié continent standardized all train gauges about ten years ago? Passenger traffic exploded afterward, and now hospitality is big business."
That was Dione for you — an expert on anything that made money.
'If the lodging business is that lucrative... maybe I can squeeze a bit more out of Katarina.'
"Anyway," Dione continued after sipping her iced tea, "property prices in the Oreilles district are rising by the day. A week away on a business trip, and the price tag will literally gain another digit. Lady Katarina knows that as well as we do."
She set down her glass and went on.
"My guess is she wants to lock down terms with you before someone else grabs the deal. That's why she sent such a presumptuous card — like a slap in the face. Since she made the first rude move, we'll have to be well-prepared."
"Ah, that's considered rude?"
"She didn't adjust the date or ask your availability. That means she considers you beneath her. Honestly! How can someone be so naïve? You should at least read a society etiquette guide."
Cleio, for her part, had just learned that such a thing as a society etiquette guide even existed.
'This isn't something you can understand just from language alone. She's reading that one card like it's a turtle shell for divination.'
"With the living, breathing etiquette guide right here, I don't see why I need to bother reading one myself."
The subtext — that's why I'm paying you — hung softly in the air.
Dione caught it immediately.
"Well, you're not wrong. Alright then, let's go over this once more. Annual rent: minimum 2.5 million dinars, up to five years, with renewal terms afterward. Correct?"
"Correct."
"Katarina will probably try to buy it outright, but... I'll do my best. You're the only one in the Oreilles district holding such prime land, so you can afford to play hardball!"
"That's what I wanted to hear. Oh, and we haven't yet set the commission rate for my etiquette tutor."
Dione's languid eyes snapped open, her clear, water-blue irises sparkling like gems.
Cleio pulled the Aether Imprint Contract from her bag — time to add a new clause.
If Dione managed to finalize the land lease with Katarina and handle all subsequent legal and administrative matters, Cleio would pay her an 8% commission from the total annual rent.
'Best to keep good ties with the Grayor Company. They'll be useful for sourcing magical supplies too... I can afford to be generous here.'
For the first year, Cleio also agreed to pay the full commission upfront plus an additional 2% success bonus.
A faint glint of predatory resolve flashed across Dione's beautiful eyes.
"So paying me this much means you expect results worth that amount, huh? Then I'll make sure you don't regret the fee."
***
When all the documents were gathered and Dione had adjusted her attire, she returned to the reception room.
Gone was her usual fluttery dress — instead, she wore a sharply tailored navy jacket and a slim skirt. The change suited her perfectly.
As she checked her neatly coiled hair in the mirror, she stopped Cleio, who was just about to stand up.
"Sit down. We'll leave in a little while."
"It's already half past two. If we don't go now, we'll be late, won't we?"
"Oh, really—how would you survive in this harsh world without me? You're supposed to be late. If you show up right on time after receiving such a card, she'll look down on us. Sit quietly and eat some chocolate."
Then, she took a chocolate shell from a golden paper case and popped it straight into Cleio's mouth.
It was so natural a gesture that Cleio didn't even have time to protest being treated like a child.
The brandy-filled chocolate melted on her tongue, and before she knew it, she was completely focused on the treat.
Following Dione's orders, they departed twenty minutes late and arrived at Camellia Hall around 3:20 p.m.
Camellia Hall, the De Neige family's townhouse in the capital, wasn't far from the Aser estate.
Of course, the scale was incomparable—an imposing main gate, a grand central building, two annexes with guest suites, and attendants waiting at the entrance for arriving carriages. The opulence was overwhelming. Grand banquets were held there year-round.
Naturally, Dione Grayor showed not the slightest sign of intimidation. She strode across the colonnade as if it were her own home.
It wasn't the attendants who led the way; she nearly outpaced them. Cleio followed quietly behind.
Click.
With confident steps, Dione entered the reception room. Her clear, ringing voice carried as she greeted first, smiling brightly.
"It's been quite some time, Lady Katarina—since the Spring Flower Ball, I believe. I did send word in advance, but I trust you've been well?"
Katarina, who had been standing arrogantly before the centerpiece, raised her sharp eyebrows.
***
Dione was a genius warrior.
She held her own against the cunning Katarina and turned the Battle of Camellia Hall into a victory.
'Good grief. For medicine, go to a pharmacist. For money, go to Dione.'
The final lease amount was settled at three million dinars per year, with a five-year contract. Afterward, terms could be renegotiated and renewed as needed.
It was only possible because the land, purchased for 5.5 million dinars, had already skyrocketed to more than ten times its original value.
In addition, Dione's meticulous portfolio—filled with data on land prices, zoning prospects, and construction plans—had clearly played a major role.
'Amazing. Even Minister Verme, who owned this plot in the previous draft, only managed to get 2.5 million dinars per year.'
Cleio gazed in awe at Dione, who sat across from her sipping hot chocolate.
Though the young lady looked as delicate as ever, her voice was hoarse from two hours of fierce negotiation, and her gloved fingertips were smudged with ink from the documents.
Having once merely pretended to be a young entrepreneur, Cleio knew she could never have forced such favorable terms out of Katarina.
"When she said, 'Mr. Cleio wants to make this into the prestigious De Neige Hotel, but as a business adviser, I don't think it necessarily has to be De Neige,' and smiled sweetly—good heavens, even I felt chills."
Katarina, for her part, seemed driven to madness by Dione's presence, but the truth was obvious—the stronger hand lay with them.
There had been many suitors for the Oreilles district land, one of them none other than Katarina's business rival, Viscount Rayton. The moment Dione mentioned that, the match was decided.
There was no need for proof; Katarina already knew.
Pressed for time—she was leaving for Phedre that very day—Katarina summoned a notary and lawyer and finalized the contract that same afternoon.
Having fled the Carolingian Kingdom twenty-two years ago after the revolution, Katarina was known for her bold and decisive manner. She must have realized that any further delay would only harm her side.
"Do I have something on my face? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"I was staring in admiration—wondering how you pulled it off so perfectly."
"Oh, that's all?"
"What do you mean that's all? Not only did you raise the lease rate, but you also secured long-term accommodation privileges at the De Neige Hotel. I can only be impressed."
"I plan to use those privileges too, you know."
"Of course."
Dione, who hadn't so much as smudged her lips while drinking her hot chocolate, set the cup down and gave a small laugh.
"You probably can't imagine it, young master—you who receive tens of thousands of dinars in allowance. But our Grayor Company sometimes earns less than a hundred thousand dinars in net profit a year. At best, ten times that—but it fluctuates wildly."
Cleio knew the reason: despite dealing in magical goods as lucrative as magitech devices, their profits were unstable—because of Vasco's mercurial temperament.
"I see…"
"You can't compare it to Baron Aser's business in stability or scale. Look here—an apprentice knight in the Royal Capital Defense Order earns 1,000 dinars a month. Even that's considered an excellent match for a lesser noble or commoner. And here I am, handed a thirty-thousand-dinar deal—how could I not give it my all?"
"Even so," Cleio said, "I was truly impressed that you had already arranged demolition contractors in advance and managed to take half the first year's rent as an initial deposit. I'd never have thought of that."
"Ahaha! See? You can't imagine it—and that's why I have work to do. Next time a good deal comes up, tell me right away. I, Dione Grayor, will faithfully and sincerely maximize your profits."
"How could I possibly refuse?"
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