Chapter 45
“Ugh! I was just trying to recommend a dress that would suit the lady. Hic… You’re so cruel!”
“I told you not to touch me without permission.”
“I didn’t realize you were someone so important… Sob, sob.”
Crying and playing the victim despite being in the wrong?
Odette rose from the sofa and approached the boutique attendant.
“Do you seriously not understand what you did wrong?”
The attendant’s face turned pale, her expression collapsing into a pitiful frown.
Perhaps she had assumed Odette was off somewhere with the shop owner, selecting jewelry.
“I-I just wanted to suggest a dress that would suit the lady knight….”
“This one?”
Odette picked up the dress that had fallen on the floor.
Even from afar, she could tell it was unsuitable for ordinary wear. Up close, it was clear—
It was the kind of provocative dress a courtesan might wear.
“Look me in the eye and tell me—do you truly believe this dress would suit the knight?”
“…Hic. N-no.”
The attendant shook her head, tears welling up.
“Then why did you suggest it?”
“I-I thought it might be a good change of pace… Since it’s different from what she usually wears.”
“A change of pace? For whom? You? Seems like mocking customers is your idea of fun.”
The attendant didn’t seem genuinely remorseful, so Odette was about to scold her further—
But then, she froze, her eyes widening.
Why… are her shoes facing the wrong way?
The attendant’s feet were twisted in the opposite direction.
Odette’s gaze sharpened in horror.
The moment the attendant realized where she was looking, she panicked, attempting to twist her foot back into place.
But—
“AAAAAH!”
A scream of agony tore through the boutique.
Her ankle was completely broken—there was no way she could simply put it back.
“I warned you… not to touch me.”
The knight ran a hand over her face, looking genuinely distressed.
A sorcerer who couldn’t be touched or attacked?
Could it be… Princess Trisha?
Princess Trisha was the Empire’s only Barrier Mage, a woman who had fought alongside Caesar on the battlefield.
Blonde hair, blue eyes, and the ability to repel both humans and monsters—
How many people in the Empire could match that description?
It must be her.
“Y-your Highness…”
The boutique owner had entered, holding a design book, and now stammered in disbelief at the sight before him.
The knight—Trisha—immediately raised a finger to her lips, signaling for silence.
Odette, however, had already heard it clearly—
“Princess,”
The shop owner had almost said it outright.
Odette lifted her gaze to look at Trisha.
In the original story, Trisha had harbored an unrequited love for Caesar, turning into a formidable rival against the heroine.
But that wasn’t the case for me.
After all, my goal is to push Caesar and Trisha together.
“Ahem! Did my staff make yet another mistake?”
The boutique owner shot a sharp glare at the attendant.
Odette stepped forward on Trisha’s behalf.
“She was rude to the lady.”
“Unacceptable. She will be dismissed immediately. Get up!”
The owner’s tone grew menacing, but the attendant remained motionless.
“Hic… I-I can’t get up. My ankle is completely broken!”
“Then crawl! Damn fool, hurry up!”
Ugh, this is getting too noisy.
Odette turned away from them and approached Trisha.
“Would it be alright if I helped you pick out a dress?”
If Trisha refused, so be it—
But she at least wanted to make an effort.
“You would really do that for me? To be honest, I was admiring your dress just now—it’s exactly my style.”
Odette was wearing a simple, understated gown.
Well, technically… it was just Amelia’s dress with all the ribbons ripped off.
She glanced down at her outfit, then smiled at Trisha.
“Since we seem to have similar tastes, it’ll be easy for me to make recommendations.”
“I would truly appreciate that.”
Odette smiled warmly.
“I noticed a few elegant designs over there that might suit you.”
She led Trisha to the rack, pulling out a few dresses and holding them up for her to see.
“What do you think?”
“I love them all.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’ve been away from high society for so long that I don’t even know what’s in fashion anymore. But I suppose it’s time I return… That’s why I was wondering—”
Trisha hesitated, looking uncertain.
“Would you… be my friend?”
Odette blinked in surprise before nodding immediately.
“I’d love to. Or rather—please, be my friend.”
“Really?”
“I actually don’t have any friends, either.”
“I-I see… I… My name is Trisha.”
There was a brief pause.
Then, Trisha added softly— “Trisha Elbern.”
She had chosen not to introduce herself with her royal title.
“Let’s get along well, Lady Elbern.”
“Yes.”
Odette held Trisha’s hand, observing her features—similar yet different from her own.
So, since she’s the emperor’s daughter… that makes her my sister?
She had believed that after her mother’s death, she had no family left in the world.
Trisha’s hand was rough, calloused from years of wielding a sword despite being a mage.
“Your hands… are really beautiful.”
At Odette’s words, Trisha quickly withdrew her hand, murmuring softly,
“That’s not true. Your hands are beautiful, mine are covered in scars and calluses.”
“They’re strong hands. That’s amazing.”
At that same moment, across the street from the boutique…
Caesar stood half-dressed, his shirt removed, while tailors and their assistants took his measurements.
His gaze, however, was fixed on Odette and Trisha, laughing together through the large boutique window.
“Trisha doesn’t seem to recognize that Odette is her own blood.”
Golden, standing behind Caesar, responded,
“Even if Her Highness doesn’t realize it, Your Grace should not let your guard down. The Crown Prince and His Majesty have sharp eyes.”
“What about Maxcallion Saxen?”
“We sent an invitation offering him high-quality garments free of charge. He was delighted and said he would definitely come.”
“Then, fate will bring them together soon enough.”
Everything was going exactly as planned, yet Caesar’s expression remained hard.
“When did he say he would arrive?”
“In three days.”
So, they’ll have their tearful reunion on the day of Odette’s dress fitting?
Caesar recalled the letters Odette had tried to send—one to Saxen Manor, the other to the Imperial Academy.
The contents of the letter hardly mattered.
It was the words themselves that unsettled him.
Health.
Gratitude.
Longing, happiness, memory, nostalgia.
She had promised never to forget them.
It was like stabbing daggers into his heart, one by one.
What’s so sentimental about this?
These were the people who enslaved her, treating her as a mere servant.
What’s there to be grateful for?
Caesar steadied his breath, buttoning up his shirt.
“I’ll find out soon enough. Just why she holds them so dear.”
Meanwhile, Odette…
“Caesar being busy is a blessing.”
With him preoccupied, she had been steadily extracting and storing her divine power into orbs.
“If I swallow them all at once, I’ll have unimaginable strength.”
Each day, her divine energy replenished itself, and she collected it bit by bit, preparing for the moment when she would need to use it all at once.
“Just two today.”
Odette tucked two bottles filled with luminous orbs into her bag and quietly slipped out through the back door.
She made her way toward the western forest.
After walking for a while, she spotted a “No Entry” sign.
Odette ignored it, moving forward as she searched her memory.
“It should be around here somewhere.”
Yet, no matter how much she waved her hands, she couldn’t feel any magical barriers.
“Did Eric reinforce the wards?”
It was unlikely that he would leave a breached barrier unguarded.
She also noticed that the layout of the trees seemed different.
The pathways and streams remained the same, meaning the land itself hadn’t shifted.
Yet, the positions of the trees and rocks were strangely altered.
“Something’s off.”
After scanning her surroundings, Odette uncorked a bottle and swallowed the divine orbs.
The moment they touched her tongue, they vanished, sending a surge of energy coursing through her veins.
She clenched her fists as power filled her body.
“Should I take one more?”
Just as she reached into her bag for another bottle—
A voice called out behind her.
“Lady Odette.”
Her fingers froze over the bottle’s neck.
Slowly, she turned around.
“S-Sir Jacques?”
