47.
“You don’t know much about these things, so just stay still and let your aunt take care of it.”
The dresses she bought were either jarring shades of pink smothered in ribbons, or stuffy, full-coverage designs in drab, muddy colors.
There was no consistency, but they all shared one trait: none of them suited Harriet.
I could have understood if my aunt simply lacked a sense of style. But she was remarkably skilled at curating exquisite dresses and accessories for Bella.
‘I suspected it back then, but now I know for certain. My aunt purposely made me look ridiculous.’
I would have been grateful for even the most plain, decent dress. Instead, she chose outfits so bizarre and garish that they left an indelible impression; I couldn’t bear to be seen in them twice, which made attending social events an exercise in humiliation.
I couldn’t exactly demand a new wardrobe, so I simply stopped going out.
‘And whenever a situation arose where Bella needed to shine, I was dragged along as a prop, just to be the punchline. To her, I was nothing but a toy. But why, in God’s name, did she hate me so much?’
Hadn’t we once been as close as sisters? Back then, I thought Bella was the kindest, most beautiful soul in the world. I had been foolish enough to mistake her calculated cruelty for genuine affection.
“Harriet! Look at this! I picked the very first rose that bloomed in the garden just for you.”
Young Bella, smiling like the sunshine as she held out a red rose, had been more radiant than the flower itself. My heart used to swell with pride, thrilled that she was my cousin…
Harriet shook her head, pulling herself from the bitter memory.
Hadn’t I returned specifically to end this life of being pushed around by Bella? Past grievances were now nothing more than fuel for my resolve.
‘The Bella of that time is dead. One must let the dead go from one’s heart.’
Now was the time to face the devil that had been born from the corpse of that angelic facade.
* * *
A massive crowd had descended upon the House of Count Lilburn for their charity bazaar. The Countess of Lilburn served as chairwoman of the ladies’ association at the Temple of St. Paolo, and a bazaar for the poor provided the perfect stage to “boast” of one’s piety.
In truth, it was little more than a social outing disguised as charity.
‘The gardens of the House of Count Lilburn are this vast?’
Harriet struggled to keep her composure as she scanned the expansive grounds, now a labyrinth of white tents.
Before, I wouldn’t have dared to dream of attending such a place. My uncle wouldn’t have taken me, and I was too terrified of the inevitable mockery to even beg for an invitation.
But no one was mocking her now. Her hand held an invitation addressed to the Countess of Felon.
“Hello, Countess Lilburn. I am Harriet Listerwell, attending on behalf of the Countess of Felon. We met once at the Vanderbilt party, if you recall.”
“I certainly do! Welcome. I did receive word that you would be coming in the Countess’s stead.”
“The Countess of Felon asked me to convey her deepest apologies for her absence.”
“It is quite enough that you have come in her place, Miss Harriet. The items at the bazaar sell out quickly, so do make sure to claim anything you like! Ho ho!”
Harriet laughed politely and exchanged pleasantries. In the past, she would have been so lost that she would have hidden in a corner, but fortunately, she now had an acquaintance to anchor her.
“It’s been a while, Miss Annabelle.”
When Harriet offered her greeting, Annabelle Leighton, who had invited her to the tea party, welcomed her warmly.
“Oh, Miss Harriet! Your dress is exquisite! Where did you have it made?”
“At the . My guardian, the Countess of Felon, is a regular there.”
“My goodness! That place is legendary for its prices.”
“Is it? I’ve asked several times, but they never tell me the price, so I wouldn’t know.”
At that, the young ladies surrounding them let out pained groans of envy. The story of a girl who gained a wealthy guardian and suddenly rose in status was the ultimate fantasy for the social set.
Harriet exchanged light banter, basking in just enough envy to be satisfied, before wandering off in search of someone worth provoking. Today’s goal was to generate buzz; these pleasantries were merely a means to an end.
Just then, a group of young women gathered nearby captured the attention of the entire event.
‘Found them.’
Harriet walked toward them with a casual, gentle smile, taking a path that seemed to steer clear of them, as if she were headed elsewhere.
“Huh? Harriet Listerwell?”
Caroline, who had been glued to Bella’s side, spotted Harriet with supernatural keenness.
‘Thank you, Caroline. I knew you wouldn’t miss me.’
As Harriet wore a satisfied smile, the gazes of Bella’s circle converged on her. Harriet looked at them, feigning slight surprise, then greeted them with a bright, airy grace.
“Oh, Bella! Long time no see. How have you been?”
Bella was as beautiful as ever. She stood there, shining like the Golden Rose of Genoa. However, the eyes that widened at the sight of Harriet were clearly filled with shock—a flicker she quickly masked with a practiced, hypocritical expression.
“Harriet! My goodness, you’ve become so pretty I almost didn’t recognize you!”
“Your skin has certainly cleared up, but to the point of being unrecognizable?”
“Well… you used to suffer so much from that condition.”
Bella seemed intent on reminding everyone of Harriet’s past, but that was precisely what Harriet had hoped for.
“That’s true. I only ever heard doctors claim it was a ‘lifelong condition.’ But as it turns out, there was a way to fix it after all.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s just that… oh! My friends are right here, I shouldn’t be rambling on about such trivial things. I’m sorry. Have a wonderful time today.”
Harriet apologized as if regretful for detaining them and walked toward a tent on the other side. She could feel the stares piercing her back.
‘When you leave a conversation dangling, people grow curious, even if they weren’t interested to begin with.’
Clear, flawless skin was the ultimate currency of beauty for every noblewoman. Among Bella’s friends, there were those who struggled with acne or blemishes and were forced to mask them with thick layers of powder; they must have been dying to know what lay behind her words.
Sure enough, in the spot where Harriet had just left, the whispering began.
“How on earth did her skin get that good?”
“She said there was a way to fix it, didn’t she? What could it be?”
They were ravenous with curiosity, but they couldn’t follow her. They were Bella’s circle, and Harriet was, so to speak, ‘Bella’s enemy’—the one who hadn’t even shown remorse after landing Bella in trouble.
Bella could not have failed to notice their shift in attention.
‘Harriet Listerwell. What have you done?’
Bella was just as shaken by the change. She had dismissed the rumors of Harriet’s transformation, thinking, *‘It’s just Harriet, what could have changed?’* which made the reality of the encounter all the more jarring.
There wasn’t a single trace of the old hives or acne on Harriet’s skin.
‘I tried so hard to make her look like that!’
The effort she had poured into ruining Harriet’s appearance had bordered on obsession. She had researched the foods that triggered Harriet’s allergies and mixed them into her meals; she had gifted her lotions infused with ingredients she knew would cause breakouts—all under the guise of sisterly care.
‘How can all those years of effort collapse in just one year? How can this be?’
She had been convinced that even if the skin cleared, the scars would be permanent. She had been certain that Harriet would never, ever be beautiful.
“She really has become pretty.”
The whispered remark pierced Bella’s ears. It made her feel physically ill, recalling the days when everyone used to gaze at Harriet alone.
Bella turned back to her friends, smiling as brightly as the summer sun.
“Oh, by the way! Since we’re on the subject of skin, I tried the new cream from recently. It’s incredibly moisturizing and smells divine.”
“ cream? That one that’s always out of stock?”
“Is it? I received it as a gift, so…”
“From whom?”
The conversation soon returned to Bella’s orbit. She led them with ease, the center of interest as always. Having skillfully reclaimed her position, Bella smiled at her friends, while secretly grinding her teeth.