“Oh my, have you already had your dresses made?”
One of the young ladies, who had been trying to get under Charlize’s skin today by subtly bringing up Duke Remut, spoke up as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment.
In truth, she was cursing Charlize out on the inside.
It was because of Charlize’s remark a moment ago—her comment about how she couldn’t understand why an idiot would want to drink before such an important event had felt like a direct mockery. Fearing they might provoke Charlize’s temper, they had quickly pivoted.
“At my grandfather’s order, the designers visited today… let’s see, about ten times?”
At her words, the young ladies’ eyes lit up. What kind of unique items was she planning to show off this time? The young lady hated Charlize, yet she envied the power, wealth, and beauty she possessed.
“…If I may ask, if it isn’t too intrusive, what color dress will you be wearing to this banquet?”
One of the relatively timid young ladies among the group asked.
Upon hearing that, Charlize felt a brief moment of internal confusion. *Why are they asking about the color? And not even the design?*
In that instant, a memory belonging to the real Charlize surfaced in her mind.
“Goodness, what will you do if you come wearing the same color as me?”
It was an incident from a previous banquet where she had poured wine all over someone’s dress, claiming they had stolen her color. Recalling it in more detail, Charlize had asked Askin to be her partner that day. He had rejected her coldly, as he always did, and that had been her childish way of venting her frustration.
*Good heavens, she really did rack up quite a bit of karma.*
Charlize clicked her tongue at the memory. At the same time, she realized why the young ladies were looking at her with such desperate eyes. Ever since that banquet, knowing Charlize Alzbeit’s dress color in advance had become a matter of survival for them. Being made a laughingstock at a grand banquet in front of so many people was the absolute worst outcome—especially when the culprit was a person of power they couldn’t even protest against.
“Let’s see, what am I wearing this time…”
Charlize’s gaze drifted lazily. The sight of her taking a sip of her drink with a languid air, then wiping her lips, was beautiful enough to captivate even the women watching her. It was no wonder that while Charlize earned tremendous resentment for her evil deeds, a group of people secretly admiring her from the shadows continued to emerge.
“Ah, do you want to see for yourselves?”
Charlize’s gaze shifted toward one spot. She knew full well what lay in the room next to this one. She signaled a servant, who threw open the double doors connecting the chambers.
The moment the doors swung wide, the dress room beyond was fully revealed. Despite the limited time that had passed during the day, the mansion’s maids had already perfectly organized every item the designers had brought. It was a meticulous, breathtaking arrangement.
The pupils of the imperial troublemakers widened until they almost popped out of their heads.
“…Ab Dress Shop? No, is that Biark?”
“Duchess-To-Be, may we please take a closer look?”
One young lady spoke up urgently, her eyes sparkling, even spitting a little in her excitement. Once Charlize gave her permission, they rushed toward the display.
*Good heavens, this is…*
And then, they saw it. Though these were all pieces they were seeing for the first time, they appeared impossibly luxurious and refined. It was the result of Duke Alzbeit spending his fortune without a shred of restraint.
“…Did Lepapa ever have products like this?”
“This definitely looks like it’s from Ab Dress Shop, but I’ve never seen a design like this! It’s gorgeous!”
“My goodness, I never imagined a color could look like this…”
As a group that usually hovered around Charlize, these young ladies took great pride in their fashion sense. They were busy marveling, questioning whether such exquisite pieces had really been tucked away in the boutiques and accessory shops they frequented.
Amidst the growing commotion, they discovered one more detail: a mark.
「one of one」
The empire’s master craftsmen always left their own unique signatures on their work. Designers were no different. When a piece was crafted only once for the entire empire, it was stamped with this mark—the hallmark of a true original.
Seeing that stamp on every single item before them, the young ladies felt a shiver of thrill. Some were left utterly stunned, wondering just how much wealth had been poured into this collection. Naturally, the uproar only intensified.
Even after returning to their seats, they couldn’t conceal their excitement. While Charlize remained silent, they buzzed with impressions.
“Oh my god, and she said those weren’t for sale…”
“I’ve never seen a design like that. It must be custom-made!”
Charlize sipped her drink with detached calm until she spotted the young lady of Count Rotaria, who wore a sour expression. The girl was secretly sliding her own bag—which had previously been displayed prominently on the table—behind her.
Charlize remembered how the young lady had attempted to subtly, if rather blatantly, steer the conversation toward her fiancé by showing off that very bag.
“As you can see, there’s just so much…”
Charlize wiped a drop of her drink from the corner of her lips with an elegant gesture and let out a light, dry scoff.
“It seems a ‘limited edition’ isn’t really such a big deal, is it?”
At Charlize’s indifferent tone, the young lady of Rotaria flushed a deep, irritated red. But there was nothing she could do.
In the meantime, the group of ladies, jolted back to reality by Charlize’s comment, began cautiously asking what color dress she intended to wear.
*I cannot be the target at this banquet!*
They had asked with one mind, but Charlize offered only an inscrutable smile.
“Since the imperial workshop is working on several pieces… I’m not sure which color I’ll be wearing on the day.”
Charlize replied, resting her chin on her hand. The same young ladies who had actively chimed in when the Rotaria girl brought up her fiancé a moment ago were left reeling, scrambling to read the room.
Charlize had no intention of bullying them for wearing the same color this time, but…
*That said, I have no desire to reveal the color of my dress either.*
The moment Charlize’s gaze turned icy, someone cautiously raised their hand, calling out to her.
* * *
“Um, by any chance… for the Goddess’s Blessing commemorative banquet, will your fiancé… Duke Remut be attending as well?”
*Crack.*
If this room had been a lake, a frost would have frozen it solid. The atmosphere, which had been somewhat harmonious due to the luxury goods I had displayed, was immediately replaced by a biting, mid-winter cold.
“…”
Seriously, is this girl determined to pick a fight until the very end?
I intentionally remained silent, refusing to answer. For a fleeting moment, a flash of gloating crossed the eyes of the young lady of the Count before me.
It was subtle, but to me, it was clear as day.
*It’s become certain that Charlize wasn’t oblivious to malice; she was aware of it and simply didn’t care.*
Charlize’s body and memories were acutely sensitive to malice.
It was sensitive enough for me to catch that minute flicker of gloating and ridicule.
“He’s coming, though?”
I answered brightly.
But the expressions of the troublemaking young ladies looking at me were strange. At the same time, a memory of Charlize’s surfaced. It happened last year, at the final imperial banquet before Charlize left for what was essentially an exile disguised as a trip.
“He said he’d come! He said he’d come!”
Despite having been rejected by Askin once, Charlize had forced him to promise to attend the banquet, yet Askin had never shown up. Charlize had bragged everywhere that her fiancé was coming, but he never arrived. In the end, she drank heavily, as she always did, and caused a scene. Because of that, she committed an accident that even the Imperial family could barely manage to smooth over. And that was how she ended up leaving on her trip.
“Ah… so he is… coming?”
The daughter of the Count spoke cautiously, carefully watching my reaction.
“Then, after the Goddess’s Blessing commemorative banquet ends that day… late at night, my fiancé is planning to hold a celebration party for our engagement proposal.”
It was a honeyed, simpering voice.
“The ‘Truze 120-year-old’ wine, of which there are only twenty bottles in the entire empire, is scheduled to be served that day. If possible, I would love to invite the Duchess-to-be, but… I suppose you wouldn’t be able to attend, as you must spend your time with Duke Remut, wouldn’t you?”
At the Countess’s daughter’s words, the surrounding young ladies made a fuss as if they had been waiting for the cue.
“Oh my, heavens, Lady Rotaria, were you proposed to, not just getting engaged?”
“I had no idea! You’ve already received one? What a joyous occasion. Congratulations!”
Even while making such a commotion, they were still watching me out of the corners of their eyes. The Countess’s daughter, perhaps thinking of something amidst the blessings, maintained a look that didn’t sit quite right, yet she smiled at me all the same.
Her polite voice continued.
“You have recovered your relationship with Duke Remut, haven’t you, Duchess-to-be? You should just get married quickly!”
…Goodness. Charlize, the people you could even remotely call friends are these ‘disaster’ members.
‘Why on earth did you only make friends like this?’