Inside a private room on the second floor of the Rose Pavilion, Audrey ordered a few coffees and pastries, then quickly dismissed the waiter.
After that, she stood there, visibly conflicted, a faint blush creeping onto her face. Hands awkward at her sides, she looked at Mozo—who was growing increasingly suspicious.
"Miss Hepburn… are you alright? You don't look so good."
At those words, Audrey finally made up her mind.
She took a deep breath—
and, with startling speed, shrugged off her outer coat.
The movement was so sudden that Mozo didn't even have time to react.
He simply watched, stunned, as the scene unfolded before him.
And what shocked him even more—
was that beneath the coat, she was wearing nothing but a single piece of black lace lingerie.
His gaze landed—purely by accident—on the striking curves framed by delicate lace.
For a split second, the thought "impressive" nearly slipped out—
but he caught himself just in time and turned his head away.
Raising a hand, he said firmly:
"Miss Hepburn, please put your clothes back on. I have no intentions toward you. What you're doing is disrespectful—to both of us."
At the same time, his eyes flicked around the room, ears straining for any sound outside.
Was this some kind of trap?
He only half believed it.
For one, scams like that didn't really exist in this era.
For another… he was broke. Not exactly worth targeting.
Still—
if it wasn't a trap, then why was she doing this?
As for Audrey—
her face flushed red as she glared at him, equal parts embarrassment and indignation.
He turned his head away?!
Was her body really that unappealing?!
Instead of relief, she felt annoyed.
Still, she pulled her coat slightly back over herself—
but deliberately left the mark on her chest exposed.
Even so, there was no hiding the view.
The Tulip of the Floriculture Faculty truly lived up to her reputation.
Then, her voice trembling slightly, she said:
"Please turn back. What I want to ask is… do you recognize this mark?"
The mark?
Mozo blinked—then remembered.
Ah, right. There was a green mark.
It just… hadn't exactly been the most eye-catching thing at the time.
He cautiously glanced over—
and froze.
Then, without thinking, he stepped closer, leaning in to examine it carefully.
At that proximity, Audrey felt her head spin.
The warmth of his breath brushing against her skin sent an involuntary shiver through her.
But this could be a matter of life and death.
So she endured it—forcing herself to stay still as he… examined it.
Thankfully, he didn't touch her.
Otherwise, she wasn't sure she could've handled it.
Even so, after a while, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Are… are you done yet?"
Mozo snapped out of it and quickly stepped back—
then, without thinking, blurted:
"Thanks for the hospitality."
"…"
"…"
Silence.
Heavy, suffocating silence.
Mozo immediately wanted to slap himself.
Before she could react, he hurriedly changed the subject:
"Right—could you tell me what exactly happened?"
As expected, her anger dissipated slightly.
After thinking for a moment, Audrey frowned.
"I need to know whether you truly understand what this is. Or… you'll have to show me what you can do."
Now that she'd calmed down, something felt off.
Mozo didn't seem like a supernatural at all.
But she couldn't be sure.
There were plenty of people who knew bits and pieces of hidden knowledge—yet lacked the means to actually step into that world.
Most of the people she knew were like that.
…Though even then, there were barely a few dozen in total.
Mozo thought for a moment, then raised his hand.
"Hide yourself—the mark of the thrall." (Ancient Elvish)
He watched expectantly.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
This only deepened Audrey's suspicion—and her irritation.
Had she made a complete fool of herself?
Not only had she failed to deal with the mark—
she had let a stranger see far more than she ever intended.
And worst of all—
the carefully maintained image she had built over four years was now damaged.
That image was her ticket into a better life.
Her foundation for becoming a noble's wife.
And now—
just thinking about how she had come here, alone, with a strange man, into a private room—
her heart ached.
That alone would count against her in the eyes of the nobility.
Damn it!
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
Finally, she yanked her coat back on, shoved past Mozo, and stormed toward the door.
Seeing her leave, Mozo called out, still unwilling to give up:
"Miss Hepburn—why not try repeating what I said?"
That did it.
She spun around like an angry cat, eyes blazing.
"Repeat what? So you can get another look at my body?! Do you have any idea how much today has damaged my reputation? Do you know how much effort I put into maintaining it?!"
Her voice wavered.
She felt like crying.
Her reputation—half ruined.
The mark—still unresolved.
Her carefully prepared runes—completely used up.
She had lost everything.
And deep down, she knew—
none of this was actually Mozo's fault.
If anything, he had saved her life.
But knowing that didn't make it easier.
Not when her pride as a supernatural, and her fear for her life, were both spiraling out of control.
After taking several deep breaths, she steadied herself, one hand pressed to her chest as she gestured forward.
"I'll repay what I owe you. You don't need to know what it is—just know that I will."
"And one more thing—if you breathe a word of what happened today, I swear you'll regret it."
Mozo stared at her, completely baffled.
He still had no idea what was going on.
But one thing was certain—
For the first time, the "dream world" he thought was just his imagination had intersected with reality.
He didn't want to let this chance slip away.
But his attempts had failed, and Audrey was clearly on edge.
Was there really nothing he could do?
Gritting his teeth, he said:
"Just repeat it once. I don't need to look. And didn't you say you owe me? Let this count."
She had already reached the door, hand on the handle.
Turning back, visibly irritated but holding herself in check, she muttered:
"You…"
Still, she knew he wasn't to blame.
And she did owe him.
After a few steadying breaths, she forced herself to say it:
"Hide yourself—the mark of the thrall." (Ancient Elvish)
Then she added coldly:
"That's it. I'm leaving. And remember—keep today to yourself. Understood? Hm… hm?"
Mid-sentence, something felt off.
Her expression changed.
Quickly, she pulled open her coat and looked down—
The mark was gone.
Gone?!
Her head snapped up toward Mozo.
Then back down.
Then up again.
She repeated the motion several times.
Each time, her face grew more awkward.
Finally, she clasped her hands in front of her chest, leaning forward slightly with an embarrassed, hopeful smile.
"Ahaha… um… about just now… could you maybe pretend you didn't see or hear anything?"
Mozo stared at her, utterly speechless at the drastic shift in her demeanor.
Then he pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Miss Hepburn… your entire persona just collapsed."
Audrey Hepburn kept smiling—
but inside, she felt like her heart was bleeding.
What… had she just done?