Chapter 19
The incident began with a simple question from the maid assisting with her dressing.
“Come to think of it, my lady, your tastes are remarkably consistent, aren’t they?”
That single remark sparked agreement among the other maids.
“That’s true! Everything you wear is always so elegant and flowy!”
“A charming and lovely image—it suits you perfectly, my lady.”
A wardrobe that harmonized beautifully with her appearance. The bright pastel Rococo-style dresses created an adorably elegant atmosphere.
Before long, the maids began discussing which outfits complemented her best.
“Yellow, of course! It matches the color of your hair!”
“No, it should be purple, like your eyes!”
“What do you all know? Obviously, pink is the best choice for someone as lovely as our lady!”
The debate started with colors.
As they argued over which shade suited her best, they eventually turned to Lillian herself for an answer.
“My lady, what is your favorite color?”
Countless pairs of eyes fixed on her, glimmering with anticipation.
Was this really such an impassioned topic? Lillian, who had been sitting quietly as her hair was being styled, blinked in mild surprise.
“…Hmm. I suppose I’d say purple?”
A moment later, delighted gasps spread throughout the room. Those who had guessed correctly cheered in triumph, while the others sighed in disappointment.
“And what about clothing?”
“Clothing?”
“Yes! Have you ever considered wearing something different?”
Another maid eagerly inquired about her preferred style.
“But my lady looks best in her current style.”
“No, no! She might suit a mermaid-style gown surprisingly well! She has such an elegant air—I’m sure it would be perfect for her!”
Despite Lillian having yet to answer, the maids continued excitedly exchanging opinions.
Listening to their conversation in silence, Lillian eventually glanced around the dressing room.
It was filled with gowns and accessories chosen to match the tastes of Lillian Mernard.
Truthfully, they weren’t her own preferences. But compared to the tattered rags she had worn in the slums, they were far better, so she had no real complaints.
“Well, my lady? What do you think?”
“…Hmm?”
“About your clothing style. Do you truly prefer dressing like this?”
If Lillian’s style wasn’t her own, then what would be its opposite?
Deep in thought, she finally gave a small nod.
“Even so, I believe what I’ve worn so far suits me well.”
Here, her personal taste didn’t matter.
What Lillian liked, what Lillian believed to be proper—those became her own thoughts by default.
“I really wanted to see you in something different… But if this is what my lady prefers, then I suppose we have no choice… How disappointing.”
Some of the maids adorably pouted in disappointment, and, deep down, Lillian herself felt the same.
That afternoon, while enjoying tea alone, Lillian found herself recalling the events of the morning.
Curious about Daisy’s opinion—who was always by her side—she hesitated for a moment before gathering the courage to ask.
“What kind of outfit do you think would suit me best?”
Daisy, in the middle of eating a cookie, looked at her lady in surprise, as if wondering why someone so indifferent to fashion was suddenly bringing up such a topic.
“You? My lady, are you really asking me about clothing?”
“Yes. This morning, the maids assisting me asked if I had ever considered wearing something different. It made me wonder… Could it be that they suggested it because my current style doesn’t suit me?”
“Those impudent girls! I apologize on their behalf, my lady. Rest assured, I will reprimand them properly today—”
“That’s not why I brought it up, Daisy. I wasn’t offended by their words in the least.”
Daisy’s immediate indignation startled Lillian, causing her to hurriedly set down her teacup and wave her hands in protest.
She worried that the maids might be scolded unfairly. In truth, she had found the morning’s conversation rather amusing.
Calming down, Daisy nibbled on her cookie and pondered the question.
“To be honest, my lady, I think you would look wonderful in anything. But is there a style you’d like to try?”
“…I’m not sure. I feel like my current look suits me best. Suddenly changing it might feel odd.”
Since there was no pressing need to alter the style Lillian Mernard had cultivated, she saw no reason to suggest otherwise.
However, Daisy seemed eager to see her lady try something new and began gently coaxing her.
“My lady, change is natural as one grows. It may feel unfamiliar at first, but as long as it suits you, wouldn’t it be worth trying? If I may be so bold, I believe you would look stunning in other styles as well!”
Hearing such words from Daisy, the person closest to her in the duchy, made her more inclined to listen.
The main reason she had resisted change was her father.
Count Mernard had always been adamant—Lillian must never stray from the persona of Lillian Mernard. Even the slightest deviation could risk exposing her true identity, so he had strictly advised her to maintain every aspect of the real Lillian’s preferences.
Yet, contrary to the count’s warnings, the people at the ducal estate seemed far more accepting than she had expected.
In truth, as a person, there were many things she wanted to try.
But playing the role of Lillian meant countless restrictions—so many that she had given up before she could even consider them.
“There you are, Lillian.”
Just then, Ersivan approached them.
Since receiving a stern lecture from Madame Henshu, Ersivan had made a habit of visiting Lillian after his training sessions.
And today was no exception.
As Daisy rose from her seat to excuse herself, she suddenly turned to Ersivan with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“By the way, Your Highness, what style of clothing do you think suits my lady best?”
“Clothing?”
“Yes, her overall style. Right now, she has such an adorable and lovely image. But do you think she would suit other styles as well?”
At Daisy’s question, Ersivan instinctively let his gaze roam over Lillian.
A dainty hat adorned with ribbons, a lace-trimmed choker, a vibrantly colored dress in shades of soft pink and yellow—she was every bit the picture of elegance and charm.
The adorable appearance she had often heard about through rumors—objectively and subjectively—suited her well.
“My fiancée would undoubtedly look just as lovely in something different.”
“Don’t you want to see what that ‘something different’ might be?”
“That depends on whether my fiancée herself is willing to consider it.”
“That works out perfectly! My lady seemed quite interested in trying something new. Isn’t that right, my lady?”
Daisy poked Lillian lightly in the side, urging her to respond. When their eyes met, Daisy gave her a playful wink.
She had clearly picked up on Lillian’s unspoken thoughts.
“…Oh.”
Was it really okay to embrace change as Daisy suggested?
But what if that overly suspicious man found it strange?
As anticipation and anxiety tangled in her mind, leaving her dizzy, Ersivan took the lead.
“Then let’s go for now. You can decide once we get there—whether you want to try something new or keep your current style.”
Daisy, understanding his intent immediately, hurried off to prepare.
When she asked if they had enough time, Ersivan simply responded that they would leave at once.
“…Wait a moment. Leave? Where exactly are we going?”
Was she the only one who didn’t understand what was happening? She had barely finished her tea, yet everyone else was already on their feet, busily getting ready.
Daisy and Ersivan, now prepared to depart, turned to her in unison.
“To the shopping district, of course.”
“The shopping district!”
Their response came in perfect synchronization, as if rehearsed in advance.
The three of them arrived in the heart of the city’s shopping district.
A dazzling array of lights adorned the bustling streets, but among them, one stood out above the rest.
They had arrived at the most renowned salon in the North.
“You certainly got here quickly.”
As they approached the entrance, a woman in oval glasses clicked her heels against the floor and strode toward them.
With deep blue hair reminiscent of the ocean’s depths, she tilted her head in greeting, though her expression was far from warm.
“Naturally.”
“…Next time, I won’t entertain such sudden requests!”
“I’ll make sure you’re compensated handsomely, so spare me the glare. I’m sure I’ll be the one paying the greater price anyway.”
“Of course. I leave everything in your hands, Duke Valencia.”
Though their exchange was laced with polite smiles and formal tones, the tension beneath it was undeniable.
With the brief yet loaded greeting complete, the woman finally turned her gaze toward Lillian.
Her sharp eyes scanned Lillian from head to toe, lingering intently. After a moment, she adjusted her glasses and extended her hand.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Mernard. I am Helen, the designer and owner of this salon.”
Her introduction was anything but ordinary. Lillian was taken aback.
Helen was infamous for her high standards and rarely showed her face in public.
In fact, the only time she had ever appeared at an event was during the grand opening of her salon.
People whispered that she was seen only once a year—at the annual fashion show held in the imperial palace.
And now, here she was, personally welcoming them. What an incredible honor it was to be received as a guest at her salon!
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madame Helen. It’s truly an honor to see you in person.”
“Today, I will be attending exclusively to you, Lady Mernard. Take your time and make any request you wish.”
“…Exclusively to me?”
“Yes. I have dismissed all other clients, so you may browse at your leisure.”
She had assumed the conversation between Ersivan and Helen had been about an appointment, but in reality, he had rented out the entire salon.
Nobles from faraway lands traveled to the North just to visit this place. How much must it have cost to reserve it for themselves?
As Lillian attempted to calculate the staggering amount, she soon gave up.
It was simply beyond her comprehension.
“Now, let’s set aside the pleasantries and step inside. The sooner we finish, the better for everyone, wouldn’t you agree?”
Urged on by Helen’s impatience, the three of them entered the salon.
Upon stepping inside, the waiting area and payment counter came into view. Behind them, thick lemon-colored curtains concealed the inner space.
Helen pulled the curtains aside with both hands before turning to Lillian with a confident smile.
“Well, Lady Mernard? What do you think?”
“…It’s breathtaking. I mean it sincerely, it’s truly beautiful.”
The salon was a masterpiece in itself, a pinnacle of elegance.
Lillian couldn’t help but gape in awe as she took in her surroundings.
