…
The next day, Amon got up early to share breakfast with his grandfather, Schulton. After their meal, he returned to his room to prepare for the day ahead. He opted for a simple attire, donning a dark blue polo shirt and black slacks. As a final touch, he took hold of his polished redwood baston and made his way towards Juliane's door.
Amon knocked lightly, but was taken aback when Juliane opened the door. The surprise was mutual as they noticed their mismatched outfits. Juliane was dressed in a brown shirt, a long skirt, and sandals, resembling the attire of the residents in Riverton Village. Her usually neatly arranged hair cascaded down her back.
"What is that lame outfit that you're wearing?" Amon questioned, his gaze sweeping over Juliane's appearance. "I specifically instructed you to dress appropriately, because as your boss, your appearance is a direct reflection of my standards. I thought I already explained it to you."
Juliane let out a sigh, her expression contemplative. "I spent the whole night thinking," she explained. "If I may suggest, I believe we should pretend to be residents of Riverton Village."
Amon arched an eyebrow, intrigued by Juliane's proposal. "Go on," he urged.
Encouraged by his interest, Juliane continued, "By blending in as villagers, we can truly observe and uncover what is happening there. We won't be seen as nobles and can get a more accurate understanding of the situation."
Though Amon was reluctant to admit it, he couldn't ignore how solid his assistant's argument was. If not for his personal involvement and the purchase of the painting, he might not have bothered investigating the matter at all. Yet, there was an inexplicable feeling deep within him that compelled him to follow Juliane's suggestion. And usually, Amon's gut feelings proved to be true.
"Very well, Ms. Johara. Help me look like… that," he furrowed his brows, pointing at Juliane's attire, "I only know how to make myself look the best, so I shall leave my disguise to you."
Juliane felt a little excitement about their cover, yet felt nervous that the young master might not like how she would dress him up.
Juliane approached Amon cautiously, her movements hesitant and shy. With delicate gestures, she reached out to touch his hair, her fingertips lingering for a brief moment as she applied a subtle layer of brown powder, camouflaging its golden hue. Carefully, she secured clips in strategic places, taming and concealing his locks. The young master remained composed, acting as if her touch didn't affect him, though a faint glimmer of amusement danced in his eyes.
As she positioned a wide conical hat atop his head, Juliane's hands trembled ever so slightly, her heart skipped a beat at the proximity of their bodies. The air seemed to still, time slowed down, as they shared this intimate moment in silence. Amon glanced at his reflection in the mirror, his brows furrowing as he observed the dirt smudged across his face. But Amon noticed that it was a stark contrast to Juliane, whose face remained clean.
Amon's voice sounded with a hint of mischief as he reached for the bowl of brown powder Juliane held in her hands, "Now, Ms. Johara, let me enhance your disguise. Don't move."
Juliane's heart fluttered at his unexpected gesture, her eyes widening in surprise. "Young master, what are you-" she began, but was silenced by Amon's gentle command.
"I said, don't move."
The wealthy gentleman rose from his seat and closed the distance between them. His fingers traced the delicate curves of Juliane's cheeks, leaving traces of brown upon her skin. As his touch lingered, a wave of warmth washed over her, causing her cheeks to blush with a soft, rosy hue.
"There you go... Now, we're the same," Amon said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He couldn't deny the joy he felt in teasing his assistant.
Realizing that their preparations had taken longer than intended, Amon urged Juliane to proceed. Little did he know that his gentle touch had awakened something within her. It was the first time a gentleman had ever caressed her face, and the softness of his touch lingered in her thoughts.
—
Moments later, Amon arranged for the services of a humble merchant who was transporting baskets of vegetables in his automobile, destined for the Riverton Village market. Amon and Juliane took their place in the back of the vehicle, dressed as farmers who had just harvested the fresh produce.
Upon their arrival in Riverton Village, Amon and Juliane discreetly made their way to the dilapidated house of the blind couple. At the entrance stood a middle-aged man with a bald head and a beard, his vacant gaze fixed on the surroundings. As their footsteps approached, he called out, "Who's there?"
Observing the man's gestures, Amon and Juliane deduced that he was one of the blind residents of the house. Juliane spoke up, "Excuse us, we are donors to the Blind and Deaf Community. We visited here yesterday, and-"
"Save your breath," the man interrupted, his voice filled with disappointment. "The village officials always take the money. It's the reason they took my wife. Sadly, I am not able to search for her in my current condition."
Amon and Juliane exchanged surprised glances. It was surprising to hear such sentiments directly from the blind man himself. Intrigued, Amon asked, "Sir, how can you be certain that the village officials take the money? After all, you are blind."
"I may be blind, but I am not deaf," the man responded firmly. "Besides, my nephew saw them and overheard their conversations."
At that moment, a teenage boy with thin brown hair and a slight build approached. His eyes scrutinized Amon and Juliane from head to toe, assessing their worn-out attire. With a skeptical tone, he said, "You may not be village officials, but you don't look like donors either."
"Palzier, please handle this. You know my condition," the boy's uncle instructed.
"Yes, uncle," Palzier responded, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the two visitors. "Now, tell us honestly, what is the true purpose of your visit to our humble home?"
Juliane stepped forward and held out a pouch of copper coins. "We came to bring you this," she explained.
With trembling hands, Palzier accepted the pouch. "So, you were the ones who came yesterday when I had to hide my uncle," he admitted. "I apologize for not facing you directly. I saw you with that village official."
Amon raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You were watching us?"
Palzier nodded, his voice filled with remorse. "I was hiding in the bushes, waiting for you to leave. I'm sorry."
Realizing that Palzier had been observing them, Juliane felt a sense of empathy towards the young boy. She gently asked, "If you need anything, please tell us, so we can help you."
The teenager's voice quivered as he spoke through tears. "Please find my blind auntie. I believe they took her to prison... When she tried to chase away those greedy officials, they became annoyed and took her away."
Juliane muttered, "That's cruel!" She instinctively reached out and patted Palzier's back, offering him comfort.
But Amon wrestled with conflicting thoughts. Helping the poor couple wouldn't directly benefit his business interests, yet they had gone to great lengths to disguise themselves and uncover the truth. If government officials were truly involved, reporting it could jeopardize his trading operations.