“What…?”
His displeasure fully bared, he rose from his seat and prowled toward Roselia. Though she realized she had overstepped, she forced her expression into a firm mask and held her ground. Klaus loomed over her, his gaze arctic, his voice a sharp lash.
“You’ve barely been here a month. What could you possibly know to spout such nonsense?”
“Don’t you think that because I haven’t been here long, I can judge this place more objectively than anyone else?”
Seeing Roselia retort without yielding an inch, Klaus let out a scoff of disbelief.
“Do you even know why I’m so obsessed with work and money?”
“I may not know your personal history, Your Grace, but I do know this: for the sake of your relationship, money is not what matters right now.”
At Roselia’s words, which seemed to negate everything he had built, a flare of anger ignited in his eyes.
“Damn it, Antonio.”
He closed the distance in an instant, snarling as if ready to seize her by the collar. Roselia gritted her teeth against the rising tension, meeting his gaze with a cold, steady face.
“Even if you don’t go around provoking my nerves with such matters, my head is already about to burst. If it weren’t for you, no one else here would dare say such things to me.”
*I suppose that’s true,* I thought. *That must be why Closette grew up the way she did.*
I felt a pang of pity for her. She had likely built walls and locked herself away, growing accustomed to a solitude hidden beneath that haughty, prickly exterior.
“If money is the Duke’s way of making amends, why didn’t you do the same for the Crown Princess?”
It was a rebuke: while he tried to patch things up with Closette using coins and gifts, he hovered around the Crown Princess, coddling her with genuine care.
“Damn it! The Crown Princess already has more than enough money! All I can do is console her loneliness!”
Watching him grow agitated, Roselia replied calmly.
“You see the Crown Princess’s loneliness, but you don’t see your own sister’s?”
“What…?”
For a moment, his navy-blue eyes froze. Klaus stood rigid, words failing him. Roselia, watching him as if he had only just realized the truth, pressed on.
“Don’t tell me you actually thought the young lady has been fine all this time?”
“……”
*How can he be so worried about the Crown Princess while being so oblivious to his own flesh and blood?* As Roselia stared at him in disbelief, Klaus muttered lowly.
“I always provided her with the best of everything, never letting her lack for anything. I thought that was the best I could do.”
*How could he think that was enough?*
Roselia sighed and shook her head.
“After the late Duke and Duchess passed away, there were only the two of you left. For the young lady, you are all she has. Think of how lonely she must have been at such a young age.”
The original story didn’t specify when the Duke lost his parents, only that it was before he came of age. Since he was approaching thirty, it must have happened over a decade ago. For fifteen-year-old Closette, it meant she had lost her parents before she could even speak properly.
Thinking of it that way, Closette seemed all the more pitiable. To have been raised under a cold-blooded man who knew nothing but ledgers—it was no wonder she was closer to her nurse, Melda, than to her own brother.
“The young lady may not say it, but she is hurting.”
Klaus, rubbing his forehead as if pained by her nagging, replied coldly.
“Even so, I cannot postpone my schedule for a mere birthday banquet. She is nearly an adult; she will understand. Stop with the useless meddling and focus on finding a way to pay off your debt.”
“But this isn’t just a birthday banquet—it is the young lady’s debutante…!”
“Antonio.”
At the way he used her name as a threat, Roselia clamped her mouth shut.
“Do not make me say it twice. You are giving me a headache. Leave at once.”
Roselia opened her mouth as if to protest further, but resigned herself and bowed stiffly.
“I apologize for wasting your valuable time, Your Grace. I shall take my leave.”
With a dark expression, she exited his office.
* * *
Closette sat in the salon of a boutique on the main street, waiting for her custom dress with a sullen pout.
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t expecting anything anyway.”
Seeing Closette sipping tea with a face so composed it suggested she felt nothing at all, Roselia’s heart grew heavier.
“Still, it is your debutante…”
“I told you not to worry. If this were a one-time thing, I might be disappointed, but it’s nothing new.”
Roselia found herself smiling faintly; the way she sipped her tea so haughtily made her look like such a precocious young lady.
Just then, the shop’s madam entered with the completed gown.
“My lady! You’ve been waiting a long time! Here is the cyan blue dress you ordered. I’ve arranged the sapphires, diamonds, and aquamarines to emphasize a refreshing, cool feel.”
The excited woman droned on.
“Especially this part here—inspired by your blue eyes, with these blue diamonds as the accent…”
Closette, listening with a bored expression, waved a hand.
“More importantly, I need to order a tuxedo for my Il Domestico. Can you have it done in three days?”
“Surely for your ladyship, a cyan blue rather than a cobalt blue—wait, pardon?”
The madam blinked in surprise. Closette continued, her tone sharp.
“I need the tuxedo my Il Domestico will wear in exactly one week.”
“Even so, three days is just too…”
“You know that the Dukedom only trades with this boutique, don’t you?”
“Four days! Please, four days!”
At the madam’s frantic reply, Closette nodded haughtily. The woman immediately scrambled to call in her assistants. Roselia, suddenly surrounded by several women, had to have her measurements taken with a bewildered expression.
Closette, watching the scene, scanned the dresses on the racks with a mischievous smile.
“Madam, I’ll give you more time, so please make two.”
“Pardon? Two of the exact same tuxedo?”
Closette beckoned her closer and whispered something into her ear. The madam’s eyes widened, her face twisting in confusion.
“Pardon? Are you serious?”
“No more talk, just get it ready. I’ll have Melda pick up the next set.”
“Yes…”
The madam looked as if she were about to weep, but she turned with a resolute face to drive her assistants forward. The assistants looked as though they’d been struck by lightning. Meanwhile, Roselia stood there, utterly drained.
As they left the boutique, Closette was practically vibrating with excitement, while Roselia followed with the haggard look of someone who had pulled three all-nighters.
“I’m looking forward to it. Aren’t you? Hehehe…”
*A man’s tuxedo is just a tuxedo, isn’t it?*
Just then, a voice called out to them.
“Lady Closette.”
Closette and Roselia turned. Standing there was Jucid, whom they had seen at Marquess Herden’s tea party, accompanied by her own Il Domestico. Closette’s expression soured. Jucid, however, looked at Closette haughtily before her gaze shifted to Roselia—at which point she blushed.
*What… you too?*
Seeing Jucid react just like the other young ladies who fawned over Roselia, the Il Domestico beside her looked quite resentful. Caught in the crossfire of his menacing glare, Roselia felt only deep awkwardness.
“Aren’t you Lady Jucid? What brings you here?”
“Oh my, didn’t you know? I’m a regular at this boutique too.”
Closette’s expression crumbled.
“Didn’t you use the boutiques in the center of the shopping district, Lady Jucid?”
“Well, I felt the style here suited me a bit better, so I switched.”
Jucid had her hair styled in an updo, just like Closette. And that wasn’t all. She was wearing the same sapphire necklace Closette had been sporting lately. Her eyes were blue, too, though hers leaned more toward a cool blue-gray.
Roselia, finally grasping the dynamic, frowned. Jucid was clearly jealous and trying to mirror everything Closette did.
“Oh, did I mention this? My brother told me he would take me to the Laphelios Empire soon. I’ve been so busy with banquet invitations.”
“I see…”
“Ah, may I bring my brother to your debutante banquet as well?”
“…If the young Marquess comes to grace us with his presence, I would be grateful…”
“Surely the Duke isn’t going to miss this banquet, right?”
“……”
“It is your debutante, after all. No matter how busy he is, he’ll be there. I’m already trembling at the thought of seeing the Duke.”
Roselia sighed inwardly. *She couldn’t beat Closette in anything else, so she’s using the ‘brother’ topic to feel superior.*
Sensing the conversation spiraling, Roselia intervened politely.
“Young Lady, the carriage is waiting, so we should hurry.”
“Oh? Ah…”
Closette, finally freed from the bragging, caught her breath.
“Lady Jucid. I shall be going first. I’ll send you an invitation, so let us meet at the banquet.”
Just as Closette turned, Jucid added, “It would be lovely if Antonio could bring the invitation…”
Both Closette and Roselia stared at her.
*Why me?*
While Roselia looked bewildered, Closette glared at Jucid with sharpened hostility.
“I don’t send Antonio on such errands.”