IBYVS 36

Chapter 36

“Good work.”

“Oh, not at all. But really, weddings aren’t something you can prepare easily.”

I let out a breath as I took off the corset.

In this world’s high society, a bizarrely thin waistline is still considered fashionable.

The original me had strong abs rather than a slender waist, while Elia’s body was rather straight.

That’s why I said I’d try dieting, but Cedric and Calib both fiercely objected.

And then—

“I think it’d be better if we tightened Lady Elia’s corset a little more.”

“No, it’s fine as it is.”

“But a slimmer waistline is the current trend in high society.”

“Then I’ll distort the space around Elia’s waist with gravity magic.”

Cedric sternly opposed tightening the corset.

Honestly, who uses gravity magic for something like that?!

And on top of that, because of Angela’s belief that “The bride’s dress must be revealed only at the ceremony!”, he hadn’t even seen me yet.

He insisted on saying no just from the conversation outside the curtain.

Apparently Cedric didn’t like the idea of me changing my appearance.

Truthfully, I was worried too, since a tighter corset would probably be unbearable.

Thanks to Cedric, the corset was only used to straighten my posture.

While I was catching my breath, Cedric also tried on his tuxedo behind the curtain.

“His waist looks a bit plain, doesn’t it? Cedric-nim’s chest is broad but his waist is so slim that…”

The occasional body-related comments made my heart race—but that’s a secret.

Pretending nothing was wrong, I spoke to Olivia, who had been helping with the fitting.

“What’s next on the schedule?”

Olivia, my exclusive maid and also my wedding preparation secretary, quickly took out her notebook.

“Yes, once Lord Cedric’s fitting is done, you’ll need to check the bridal chamber’s interior.”

“The bri—”

Spurt.

“Kya! Lady Elia!”

Startled, Olivia quickly pressed a handkerchief to my lips where tea had spilled.

“What happened?”

Cedric, alarmed by Olivia’s high-pitched voice, swept aside the curtain.

Naturally, my gaze turned in his direction—

“Oh my, Lord Cedric! Please put on your shirt properly…”

Half revealed was a man holding onto the curtain rod, wearing nothing but a loosely draped shirt.

I froze, my lips pressed to Olivia’s handkerchief.

Olivia and Angela seemed to fuss around, but for me, time had stopped.

My gaze slid down from Cedric’s face… to his neck, collarbone, and further down—

…Wow.

“It’s nothing serious. Lady Elia just choked a little.”

Olivia dabbed at my mouth as she explained to Cedric.

“The tea must’ve been too hot.”

“I’ll make sure to be more careful.”

I somehow managed to turn my head away.

“Cedric, please… continue with your fitting. After this, um, what was it again…?”

I glanced at Olivia, who answered in my stead.

“The bridal chamber.”

“Y-Yes, we’re supposed to check that.”

“Ah.”

Cedric made a sound of realization. His look suggested he had figured out why I choked.

“…I-I’ll finish quickly.”

Rarely for him, he even stuttered before disappearing again behind the velvet curtain.

“Hehehe, how busy you two are.”

Angela laughed merrily, like teasing a child.

“Phew.”

When Cedric slumped into his office chair, Edwin—who was busy with his work—asked,

“Did the fitting go well?”

“A ceremonial suit is a ceremonial suit. Uncomfortable all the same.”

“See? That’s why I told you to have the waist tightened just a little.”

Though Edwin hadn’t even been there, he spoke as if he had seen it all himself.

In truth, the papers he was reviewing were none other than Angela’s revised notes.

Naturally, the tighter the fit, the more uncomfortable it would be.

And at weddings, the groom was the one who had to move around the most.

Greeting guests, making rounds—it was all the groom’s duty.

“I had the tailor make it loose for ease of movement, but then you had it tightened up again. How will you manage at the ceremony?”

“The weather tower says it’ll be hot that day.”

Edwin looked concerned as he set the papers down.

But Cedric calmly sipped his tea and replied,

“The weather tower’s predictions don’t matter. Sometimes you forget I wield weather magic.”

“…Ah, right. If it rains, you just clear the clouds; if it’s too hot, you bring in northern winds.”

That meant they’d have to inform guests—who’d be dressed for summer—to bring coats.

Another task added, Edwin narrowed his eyes.

Cedric had no real defense here.

After all, he had agreed when Edwin stressed mobility.

But when he tried the suit on, his thoughts changed.

‘It already looks lacking to me… it won’t look good in Elia’s eyes either.’

So Cedric had even considered a male corset after discussing with Angela.

Of course, Elia opposed that as too much, so it was scrapped.

Edwin asked,

“By the way, is Lady Elia still on a diet?”

“No. She officially declared this morning that she quit.”

“Good. I told you diets are the root of all evil.”

The reason Cedric had been horrified by Elia’s dieting was none other than Edwin.

“I keep telling you: if you’re feeling down, eat meat. For gloom, try waltzes or pig songs. Kindness and warmth all come from carbs.”

This was Edwin’s new philosophy after attending his sister’s wedding.

“And who’s the one who has to cling to Lady Elia to lift her curse?”

“Me.”

“So between you and her, who’s the superior—A or B?”

“B.”

Cedric answered obediently.

Edwin grinned with satisfaction.

“Then you must always prioritize Lady Elia’s mood. If she suddenly decides not to marry, curse or no curse, everything goes up in smoke.”

Though Cedric was technically Edwin’s superior, they leaned on each other in private matters.

But Cedric’s objection to dieting wasn’t just for that reason.

‘She doesn’t need to do anything at all. She’s fine just as she is.’

He liked Elia as Elia.

As long as her health was fine, there was no need to lose weight.

‘And a corset that squeezes bones? Absolutely not.’

That was unacceptable.

Edwin’s eyes fell on a small box atop Cedric’s desk.

“And what’s that?”

Cedric lifted it slightly.

“A trump card.”

“…Pardon?”

Though Edwin looked puzzled, Cedric gave no further explanation.

It was the groom’s guaranteed victory kit he had secretly received from Angela before leaving the dress room, passed like some shady deal.

Edwin studied Cedric’s oddly determined expression, then turned back to his paperwork.

“How was the bridal chamber inspection?”

If there were flaws, they’d need to commission repairs right away.

But Cedric gave no answer.

“…Hm?”

Edwin looked up from his papers.

“…”

“…”

He was left speechless.

Because that Cedric—of all people—was bright red from neck to face, sweating buckets.

Well, sure, the office faced south, so it could be hot.

But when Edwin glanced at the air conditioner, it was blasting cold despite it being only May.

In fact, he felt chilly enough to keep his jacket on.

And yet Cedric was…

“…I’ll just take that as everything’s fine.”

Again, no reply came.

Edwin quietly pulled a partition to block Cedric from view.

His boss sat there like a statue, fists clenched, blushing so hard it was embarrassing to watch.

‘Strange. Wasn’t this a contract marriage?’

Edwin checked the contract again.

It clearly stated they’d marry to gain access to the Sanctuary of Knowledge, with a huge settlement payout afterward.

‘But with that attitude…’

Edwin suddenly remembered the day Elia came to sign the contract.

Shaking his head, he picked up his quill, muttering to himself:

‘Guess there won’t be any settlement payout after all.’

Meanwhile, Calib was receiving a secret report.

“So. It’s confirmed?”

His chilling voice didn’t sound like that of a seven-year-old at all.

Sitting in his chair, Calib crossed his legs and smirked slyly.

His sharp eyes curved, and his crimson pupils gleamed.

The very picture of a scheming villain.

“What should we do?” asked the messenger.

Tapping the armrest with his nails, Calib replied,

“Form an elite team around Chef Bilt. Prepare dinner according to the preferences we learned during wedding prep.”

“Yes, sir. What about dessert?”

Calib’s eyes briefly sharpened, then softened.

“What a strange question. Obviously, we’ll serve what Elia likes.”

“R-right.”

The messenger bowed and left.

Calib then pulled a notebook from between scattered books.

Flip flip— pages densely filled with black ink.

Each paragraph began with the name Elia.

Elia’s likes, Elia’s dislikes, Elia’s hobbies, Elia’s talents, Elia’s…

Yes.

This was one of Calib’s top secrets: a notebook containing everything about Elia.

The so-called “How to Win Elia’s Favor” Notebook.

He pulled out another journal, chuckling darkly.

“Huhuhu…”

Dipping his quill, he wrote:

[Imperial Year 201, May 1st. Complete success in sabotaging Elia’s diet. A triumph achieved in just three days. Confirmed that she ate macarons. At last, no more watching Elia silently chew on salads. I’m happy.]

Calib hoped Elia would always be happy in the Grand Duke’s castle and never leave.

Finishing his diary, he contentedly returned to his homework.