Tristan stepped into the small bathroom and shut the door behind him. He reached for the toothbrush out of habit, then froze when he saw the bristles were already worn. The toothpaste tube was half-empty. Even the towel hanging on the rack looked old.
His face immediately tightened.
Everything in this body, everything in this house, had belonged to another man. The thought of putting a used toothbrush in his mouth made his stomach turn. In the palace, even the sponge he washed with had been freshly prepared every other day. He had never touched anything that had already been used by someone else.
He put the toothbrush down.
He would need a new one. New clothes too. Fresh towels. Basic necessities. But there was a problem. The problem was simple yet irritating: he no longer had court attendants to send out for these things.
Tristan left the bathroom and as he walked back into the room, he realized that the living room was quiet now. The earlier shouting had died down completely. He found that slightly strange, but he didn’t waste time questioning it. He needed to find one of the women and ask where the nearest place to buy basic items was.
He opened his bedroom door and nearly walked into Cora.
She was standing right outside the door, one hand raised as if she had been about to knock. In her other hand she held the remaining stacks of cash the landlord had left on the floor earlier.
Cora’s eyes narrowed the moment she saw him.
"You forgot this," she said, lifting the money slightly.
Tristan looked at the cash, then at her. He stretched out his hand.
"Thank you." he said but Cora did not give it to him.
Instead, she tilted her head, her wavy hair shifting over one shoulder, and studied him with clear calculation.
"Where did you get this kind of money? I want to know."
There it was.
Tristan had already expected the question. Of the three, she was the only one who had asked the important thing earlier. The other two had been too busy with their pride.
He lowered his hand slowly and met her gaze without flinching. Then he quickly deduced that this was a great opportunity to start the daily task.
"You want to know?" he asked calmly, straightening his shoulders.
Cora’s eyes sharpened. "I asked, didn’t I?"
Tristan gave a small, humorless smile.
"Information like that isn’t free. Especially not from me."
Cora let out a short, cold breath. "You’re a wandering soul wearing someone else’s body. Someone else’s body that you stole, let’s not forget that... So You’re not in any position to negotiate." Cora snapped, the calm demeanor she had been wearing thinned off.
"Who makes such rule?" Tristan replied evenly, "since you want something from me, I’m trading that for what I need." He maintained firmly, holding her gaze intensely.
Cora’s fingers tightened slightly around the cash.
Tristan continued, his voice steady and precise, the same tone he once used when dealing with difficult court officials.
"I’ll tell you where the money came from. In exchange, you tell me one real thing about yourself. Something personal, you know what you want to know is personal too. After that, you take me to a place where I can buy basic necessities. I need a new toothbrush, clothes, and a few other things. I don’t use what belongs to other people."
Cora’s lips parted slightly as she stared at him. She shook her head in disbelief.
"That’s two conditions," she pointed out flatly.
"Yes," Tristan agreed without hesitation. "And the information you want is worth more than two. You’re getting a fair deal."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was quiet but sharp. Cora’s eyes moved over his face as if she were trying to peel back his thoughts. Tristan simply waited, his posture confidently straight, expression controlled.
Finally, Cora clicked her tongue.
"Follow me."
Tristan felt a small spark of satisfaction. He stepped out of the room and followed her through the living room toward the front door. He assumed she was taking him to a shop or market.
Instead, the moment they stepped outside, Cora stopped in the doorway, turned around, and looked at him with a cold little smile.
"You can find your own way."
Then she stepped back inside and began closing the door.
Tristan’s eyes narrowed. "We had an agreement."
Cora paused just long enough to meet his gaze through the half-closed door.
"When you’re ready to stop playing games and actually tell me where the money came from, knock. Until then, the money stays with me." Her voice dropped slightly. "For a wandering soul, you’re far too confident about striking deals."
The door shut firmly in his face.
A second later he heard the lock turn.
Tristan stood there in silence.
He looked down at himself and only then realized he was still wearing the thin bathroom slippers that had come with the body.
He clenched his fists in pure annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be his life. He had never had to live like this. He thought, gritting his teeth.
Behind the door, Cora’s voice came one last time, muffled but clear enough.
"Don’t keep me waiting too long... wandering soul."
Tristan stared at the closed door, a deep frown now replacing his earlier warm demeanor.