The Good Witch of the Lake

"—this is the cloth made from flowers that only bloom at the bottom of an oasis, the bead embroidery is specially made by the Royal Palace's glass craftsman, and this is the pelt of a deep sea monster that only surfaces during the Midnight Sun. Lastly, a colorful fabric infused with holy water from a snowy village—the color won't fade regardless of how often you wash it."

"Well, well…" Roze nods in understanding—when in truth, she's overwhelmed.

Even for Roze alone, the room is already narrow enough. Yet, despite all the clutter, the man somehow manages to elegantly spread out all his materials. At this point, that proficiency of his can only be called a skill.

"Now, how about these? Are you ready to bargain, 'Witch of the Lake' Roze?"

The man that treats the witch-her like royalty is a merchant and also an acquaintance of her late grandmother. Seemingly smiles all the time; he has sleek-eyes with sharp glints reminiscent of a wolf's—his name is Tien.

—this is also the by-product of her yesterday's frustration.

"By any chance, do you also sell robes? Anything is fine."

Roze, who regularly sells potions to Tien, made a casual inquiry. She doesn't want anyone to learn that such a triviality actually bothered her all day. Despite that, Tien seemed to have realized something and the very next day, ferried across many goods on the boat.

"I greatly recommend the lavender one—the pink hue carries a sensual undertone, don't you think? Hey, hey, why don't you just take this one?"

"I absolutely refuse." Roze shudders at the parade of colors. The vividness is too bright for her eyes.

"Thought so~" Tien shrugs his shoulders like a know-it-all.