Randall led them to a side room where there was an office. "Please, sit down," he pointed to the chair behind the desk. She was the owner of the art store now and more than deserved to sit there.
Aristia sat down on the desk like the boss that she was and placed the drafted agreement on top of the table. There were some quills and parchments on the table.
Randall watched her as she sat down patiently. His gaze moved to her hair.
'It's definitely magic,' he thought.
When she had first come to his store, he hadn't known her identity because of her hair and eyes. They were the normal features possessed by most commoners and aristocrats, except for pure nobility.
When he discovered her identity and saw her in the Viscount Estate, she had the same hair color as those of the royal family.
It was only magic that could cause her to conceal her features.
His thoughts were pulled back when she signed the paper and pushed the agreement toward him.
