He had a big build, a build that Elizabeth found herself comparing to Knight Sebastién Wright. His shoulders were broad, and muscles thick and hard, pressing against the black button up long sleeve, each taut muscles outlining from his black long sleeve.

His complexion was darker than what Elizabeth had seen in Hara. It was darker than hers, but still lighter than the men in Vie town. Rising from his strong jaw then to his angular face and high cheekbones, lips formed readily plump and paleish blue, black eyes narrowing down at her with the tiniest of moles below the corner of his left eyes.

He sniffed, his chest rising exaggeratedly, resulting in Elizabeth seeing how the robes that binded his V collar together had losendd roughly, allowing an explicit display of his sunkissed solid chest.

"What is it Vushka?" The native word rolled out of his lips eloquently yet strangely teasingly.

Elizabeth cut her eyes at him. He didn't seem to be a Werewolf. By his dirty clothes, and the flower pot in his hands Elizabeth suspected he worked here.

"It was an accident, just now," She quickly defended, although she knew this worker would still end up reporting her to his master.

The smirk on his face only seemed to widen. "Well I saw you just now so I know it is an accident," He replied.

Elizabeth's chest was not good. Fear of what would happen when he reported her made her heart ache, though perhaps he could tell the Duke it was an accident?

"But it wouldn't matter anyways, the vase cost a small fortune, it was shipped directly from Qian Nation." The man taunted, black eyes telling no lies.

Elizabeth felt nauseous. Qian was the farthest from Hara, it laid across the sea. It was one of the three great nations, the second being Hara. They were infamous for the ceramic business, and any sort of merchandise shipped from Qian cost more than she would cost if she was sold.

She swallowed and spoke. "H-How would you know I can't afford it?" Her lips enclosed into a pout. "I have money, it's just a vase, how much would it cost anyways?"

He arched one eyebrow, foot coming towards Elizabeth. "How much would it cost?" He was growing closer to Elizabeth. "Four hundred thousand pounds."

Elizabeth was backed to the table by the man. She raised her head so she wouldn't seem so small now that he was so close. "F-four hundred thousand pounds? Great gods for a piece of Vase? If it's that expensive, why doesn't your master hide it in a metal enclosure or something?"

The man threw his head back as he laughed, the strong smell of flowers and the faint smell of cigar permeated from him, assaulting her nose.

Elizabeth felt the cooing flames in her stomach once again. Strange.

After he sobered from his laughter he lowered his head towards hers, their forehead almost grazing each other.

Elizabeth attempted to step back a little but as she merely shook the table and made something else fall from the table she jolted.

The man backed away from her a bit as she turned around and saw she broke something else. This time a glass ball?

"Seriously, why is this happening to me again? What even is this thing? A Qian luxury ball? Am I going to have to pay six hundred thousand pounds for this one too?" She bristled, seeing the shattered ball on the ground.

She had not even received her salary yet and she already had a ten hundred thousand pounds debt on her head. Where had mercy gone?

She slowly yet dramatically craned her neck to the back. "You…. This is your fault," she pressed his bare chest with her index finger.

He lowered his black eyes to her finger. "My fault?" His lips twitched.

"Of course! You-You were the one closing in on me you-you…." She searched her brain for an insulting word that would match his character.

He placed his thumb with a black ring on it on his lips, withholding the smile that attempted to burst free from his face.

"If you're looking for an insult then feel free to use prick, or bastard, whichever suits your fancy." He aided her.

She squinted her eyes, glaring intensely at him, to which he registered that she was trying not to act adorable?

"You raging prick, dirtwagon, sod, nincompoop….eh…eh… this… I do not even know how much an Investigator pays and I am already rolling in debt?" Elizabeth bit down on her knuckles.

The smile threatening to appear on his face collapsed. "Investigator?" 

She looked back at him. "What's it to the gardener?" At this point she really did not care if he was a gardener or not.

"You're here for the Duke?" He continued with the questions.

"Are you supposed to be asking questions for your Master? I hear servants have gotten whipped for that." She mumbled, looking down at the broken Vase and glass Ball in front of her, missing her chance to see the abrupt flash in the man's eyes.

"What makes you think I can not be the Duke's assistant or something of sorts?" The man asked, trying to catch her eyes that looked down at the broken things.

She suddenly looked up at him. "Please," her fingers caught the edge of his shirt. "Nice try, my friend."

She rolled her eyes and dropped her hand.

He simply burst into another laughter. "You are utterly amusing Miss, if this Villa had you around perhaps it would cease to be as boring as it is currently."

Elizabeth did not reply to him.

"I am Constantine Rousseau, and you are?" He introduced himself.

She rolled her eyes again. "Call me Elizabeth– Wait Rousseau?"

"Duke Constantine, I had been waiting for your presence for quite some time, yet here you are freely conversing with my assistant."

Elizabeth looked up at the stairs to see Oliviér standing at the top. His face was cold, and his rigid golden-red eyes were staring down at Constantine with the same hardness it did at the Knight Sebastién.

Elizabeth suddenly felt she had done something worse than breaking the Vase and glass Ball.