If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 2

The snip of the scissors sounded unusually cheerful. After several cuts, the once long hair that reached down to her waist was now a short bob that rested on her shoulders.

Georgiana carefully set aside the chopped hair, ready to sell it to the old woman in the market who had always admired her golden locks. Then, she bent down and began applying the dye from the container to her hair.

It took multiple applications, but she meticulously covered the roots. When she rinsed it out a few minutes later, the radiant blonde had completely disappeared.

Drying her now dark brown hair with a towel, she looked at her unevenly cut bob in the mirror and beamed.

The heavy feeling of her long hair was gone, and with it, her gloomy mood lifted. She should have done this sooner.

After tidying up and washing her hands thoroughly with soap, nearly an hour had passed.

The shopkeeper, who had been lingering by the door wondering if something had happened, was startled and gaped at her changed hair.

“Oh, miss! Your hair?”

“Thank you for everything. Goodbye.”

Hastily bidding farewell to avoid any questions, she pushed the door open and walked out, only to bump her head into a man’s arm coming in.

“I’m sorry.”

Instinctively apologizing, Georgiana checked if any brown dye had stained him. Above her head, a rich, resonant baritone voice descended, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Are you all right?”

His voice was neither too fast nor too slow, and it carried a tone of politeness mixed with slight annoyance.

“I’m fine. I didn’t see you coming in, I’m sorry…”

As she apologized and looked up, she froze, blinking at the man towering over her.

“Ah…!”

Though she knew it was rude to stare, she couldn’t help but let out a sigh through her parted lips. The breath she exhaled was several times faster than usual.

The afternoon sunlight streaming from the top of the bell tower poured down on the tall man, as if God himself was bestowing a blessing.

Her heart pounded twice as fast at the dazzling sight.

She had never seen such a face before. Despite working as a governess and visiting various noble households, she was certain she had never encountered anyone this noble and beautiful.

Beneath his neatly combed black hair, his perfectly shaped forehead and sharp nose were striking. His well-defined eyebrows, long almond-shaped eyes, and cool ocean-blue irises drew her gaze like a masterpiece on the wall. His light-colored lips, set in a straight line without the slightest tilt, added to his serious and calm demeanor.

The man seemed to shine even without the light. Georgiana couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes shut and open them again. His appearance was surreal.

She found herself frozen in place, unable to move. The man’s straight brows furrowed slightly as he observed her standing still. His lips, which had been tightly closed, parted at a slight angle, releasing a cool tone.

“If you’re done apologizing, could you please move?”

His question snapped Georgiana out of her daze as if cold water had been poured over her head. Her pale face flushed with heat, turning as red as the dyes in the shop.

“Oh… yes, yes. I’m sorry!”

In her haste to move, her bag burst open, and the bundle of hair she had hastily stuffed inside fell to the floor. The long strands, golden like silk, scattered across the floor. The man’s cold gaze fell on her as she frantically tried to pick up the hair.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Ignoring her apology, he stepped over a few strands of hair and walked inside. The shine of his shoes, visible in her lowered gaze, contrasted starkly with her worn-out ones.

Feeling a deep sense of shame, Georgiana clutched the gathered hair and fled the scene. As the door closed behind her, she heard his low voice ordering art supplies.

Her face remained flushed until she was far from the shop. Her reflection in the sunset-lit river looked pitiful. As she crossed the bridge with a limp, the crooked signpost creaked in the wind, indicating she had entered Humblelum.

Just a few blocks and a small bridge away from the townhouses of the nobles, the world changed completely. The faces of the busy passersby among the street’s filth were as gloomy as hers. After turning through the haphazardly laid streets a few times, she opened the peeling green iron gate and handed over the hair she had brought.

The old woman at the general store, who received the blonde hair, smiled with her blackened teeth showing.

“Hair grows back quickly, so I’ll be counting on you next time, too.”

She even gave Georgiana more money than expected, saying that pure blonde hair was rare. The old woman, who had been doing business in this alley for a long time, was known never to make a loss, something even the children running through the alley knew well.

Georgiana received several times the amount she would have earned through labor for her hair. She left the general store with a bitter expression.

Her wages from being dismissed, combined with the money for her hair, gave her unexpected income. But she knew the moment she entered the house, Willow would take every penny from her, so her steps were not light.

She decided she needed to buy some groceries immediately. As she looked around the shabby marketplace, her gaze was drawn to an old shoe shop. The green velvet shoes, which had been in the same spot for days, seemed to shine particularly brightly today.

Though they weren’t adorned with jewels or even imitation gems, the simple design stood out to her through the dusty glass. She found herself standing still in front of them, captivated.

As if entranced, Georgiana found herself clutching the green velvet shoes, having paid for them without fully realizing it. Thinking of the scolding she’d receive for buying something so frivolous, she hid the shoes at the bottom of her grocery bag and headed home.

“I’m back,” she announced.

The two people who had been conversing with their heads close together turned to look at her simultaneously. Their eyes widened in shock at the sight of her new haircut, and both shouted at once.

“What’s with your hair?”

“What the hell!”

Willow jumped up so violently that the chair fell over, rushing towards Georgiana and yanking her short hair as if to tear it out.

“You turned yourself into this mess without a word?”

His breath reeked of alcohol, a stark contrast to the refreshing scent of the man she had bumped into earlier.

She wondered if poverty and despair could be bottled into a scent, it would smell like this. She suddenly felt ashamed, thinking the man might have caught her scent.

“What are you thinking about?”

Slap. Willow’s thick palm cut through the air. He had never hit her face before, so cutting her hair must have been a significant shock.

As she straightened her head, she tasted blood in her mouth, and her cheek burned as if scalded with hot water.

“Willow, stop it!” Her mother, who had only just gotten up, grabbed Willow’s arm as he raised it for another strike.

Georgiana had never expected her mother to help her; it was always for her own reasons.

“You need to take her to the ballet performance tomorrow. What if she gets a mark on her face? If you must hit her, hit her somewhere else!”

“Do you think the director will be pleased with this look? Eric specifically asked for her as she was.”

“He didn’t say he’d pay more for blonde hair, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Still. We could’ve gotten more money, and she comes back looking like this today!”

Willow grabbed Georgiana by the collar, shaking her like a rag doll, his anger palpable.

From their conversation, Georgiana gathered that the ballet performance was not a good place. She bit her lip and endured Willow’s rage, mentally escaping to the little flower she saw by the roadside and the green shoes they hadn’t yet discovered.

It was a technique she had developed to protect herself in such situations. As she was being shaken, the purse containing her earnings fell to the floor along with the groceries. Willow snatched it up quickly, his eyes gleaming.

“What’s this?”

“…It’s the money I got from selling my hair.” Anticipating that the money would be taken from her, Georgiana answered calmly.

“What? That ugly hair of yours fetched this much? You should have told me sooner. We could have been cutting and selling it all along.”

Holding the jangling purse in his hand, he finally let go of her and gave a twisted smile. Freed from his grip, she painfully picked up the groceries that had fallen to the floor. A few potatoes and apples had rolled out, but fortunately, the hidden shoes went unnoticed.

“You’re not fired again, are you?”

Marianne, eyeing the heavy purse with suspicion, tried to peek inside. Georgiana subtly turned her body to block Marianne’s view.

“No, nothing like that. I’ll wash my hands and prepare dinner.”

As she tried to leave the room, feigning nonchalance, Marianne’s mocking voice followed her.

“It doesn’t matter if you get fired or not. Soon, you won’t be able to do that job anyway.”

“W-what do you mean by that?”

Could their earlier whispered conversation have been about…