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Chapter 53
“Have you ever heard of Vivian Wharton, Ezekiel?”
“She’s a famous dress designer, isn’t she?”
“You know her well. Since there are no grown women in the ducal household, I thought you might not know.”
One morning at breakfast, when we were seated closer together at the table than usual, Ezekiel, Michele, and I discussed Vivian Wharton’s unexpected visit earlier that morning.
“Her name carries so much weight that the brand even shows up in the papers now and then. It would be hard not to know of her.”
“That certainly means she’s a hot topic.”
This was a golden opportunity. I explained in detail Vivian Wharton’s proposal for collaboration.
Michele, who had been subtly pushing the broccoli around on his plate, opened his eyes wide.
“No way… Aunt, are you some kind of magnet? All these famous people keep getting drawn to you.”
His serious expression only made him look cuter.
“They come to me because I’m the Duchess. Next year, when you’re officially recognized as heir, famous people will start coming to you, too.”
“No. Aunt, that’s exactly the problem with your way of thinking.”
I was startled when Michele suddenly contradicted me.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“You always attribute everything you achieve to someone or something else.”
“I…”
“Aunt, you need to take more pride in the things you accomplish yourself.”
It was an unexpected piece of advice. I blinked slowly, reflecting on my own words and actions up until now.
Taking pride in the things I accomplish…
My father had always spoken as though everything I did was trivial. I had come to believe that unless I struggled to prove myself—even in the smallest things—my existence had no value.
“If she came looking for Aunt first, that alone shows she has good instincts.”
“This time, I agree with my nephew,” Ezekiel added after Michele’s words.
“Diminishing your own achievements is never good. When we say you’ve done something worth being proud of, there’s no need for you to step in and devalue it.”
His words were firm but surprisingly helpful. I realized I had been belittling myself out of habit.
“…Thank you for pointing it out.”
The tension on my face eased. Ezekiel raised his glass of wine to shoulder height. The glass in front of me was also filled with delicious wine.
“To the success of this collaboration.”
“And to the smooth visit of Crown Princess Giovanna.”
Clink—
The glasses met with a bright, clear sound, ringing as if to foretell a bright future.
“From the toy industry to House of Wharton’s pop-up store—there seems to be no end to the expansion of the domain.”
A few days later, Valentina came to report on the sales changes following the granting of the Royal Warrant. Though she could have simply sent a letter and had Olly read it out to me, Valentina insisted on coming in person.
“I can’t miss a chance to see the Dogaressa!”
The way she clung to my arm with cheerful familiarity wasn’t unpleasant. It felt like gaining a cute friend.
“Is everything going well with President Wharton?”
“Yes. I even appointed someone specifically to handle President Vivian Wharton’s pop-up shop.”
“Who? You never mentioned that before!”
Valentina’s eyes sparkled. Perhaps her curiosity was stirred because the person in question was famous.
“There she is.”
As if on cue, the person walked through the open door, perfectly aware we were talking about her. She was dressed in attire far brighter and more polished than a maid’s simple gown.
“Anna!”
Valentina recognized her immediately.
“Isn’t Miss Anna the one closest to the Dogaressa?”
“That’s right. She used to be my most trusted maid.”
“But how…?”
The household staff, except Valentina, showed no surprise at Anna’s change in appearance. Everyone knew why she had dressed up more carefully than usual.
Only Valentina, bewildered by a reason she didn’t yet know, looked confused. Anna bowed politely to her.
“I’m Anna, temporarily serving as President Wharton’s assistant.”
How this came to be was a few days earlier.
While putting away a heavy dress in the wardrobe, Anna lingered on the fabric, unusually absorbed.
“I never thought President Vivian Wharton would come here herself!”
She must be thinking of Wharton because of this dress.
That afternoon had been a whirlwind—Wharton’s surprise visit, the proposal to open a pop-up shop, and her offer of collaboration.
Anna, trying hard to suppress her excitement, said,
“Since President Wharton is so famous… there must be some amazing people helping with the shop, right?”
Even for a temporary pop-up, there was a lot to prepare—from displaying dresses to handling logistics—if it was to be successful.
“The boutique staff working with her must be so lucky…”
“No matter how many boutique staff she has, there should be at least one person who knows Betra’s circumstances well.”
“That makes sense. To keep working with someone like President Wharton and help with the pop-up… that would be such a dream.”
Every word she spoke dripped with envy.
“Anna, wasn’t fashion your dream? Do you think working in a boutique would suit you?”
“Well, working formally at a boutique would let me learn more. I’d also get chances to meet people and broaden my perspective.”
“And if you were next to someone like President Wharton, would that be good?”
“Of course. Just being near her would be a learning experience.”
But then her face fell. As a maid in the household, she probably thought it impossible to even speak to someone of Wharton’s stature. And she was right—unless I helped her.
“As it happens, if a boutique opens in Betra, they’ll need extra hands, even temporarily.”
“That’s true.”
“But I’ve been so busy lately with other things. I’d like to rest.”
Watching her expression, I spoke casually, as if thinking aloud.
“Isn’t there someone who could communicate with President Wharton in my place? Someone who’d have to spend a lot of time with her, talking to her often.”
“….”
“If they were also interested in fashion, the president would surely like them.”
“That person would be so lucky…”
Anna didn’t catch on at all. She simply couldn’t imagine such an opportunity.
“Do you envy them that much?”
“Of course! How wonderful would that be?”
“Perfect, then. You can help with the pop-up.”
“Wha… what?!”
“If you envy it so much, then you do the communicating.”
Anna froze, as if she’d misheard.
“M-me? Help with President Wharton’s pop-up shop?”
Her eyes shook violently, as though the idea was too dreamlike to believe.
“You love fashion and beauty work. And you once said even getting into a workshop required connections.”
Getting a chance to meet with the head of House of Wharton face-to-face was like a stroke of divine luck. After all, Wharton only dealt with the highest-ranking women on the continent.
“I hear that while opening the pop-up, President Wharton is also planning a dress line inspired by Betra’s scenery and aesthetics. Why don’t you sit in on those meetings?”
“H-how could I possibly…”
“You’ve seen Betra’s landscapes longer than President Wharton has. You’ve explored every corner of the city on your days off. Who better than you to introduce her to its beauty?”
Anna, lost in her delightful imaginings, suddenly snapped back to reality.
“But what about my duties as your maid, Madam? I can’t just abandon the work I’ve been doing for so long.”
“I may not trust them as much as I trust you, but I do have other maids, don’t I?”
“Still…”
I placed a hand on her shoulder—something I had never done before. And with it, I spoke the words I had always wanted to say someday.
“You’ve done so much for me all this time. I can’t always be the one just receiving.”
