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Chapter 04
I Don’t Like It
Inside was dazzling. There was no better word to describe it.
The walls were painted pure white, and the chandelier sparkled with crystal plated in gold and platinum.
“…It’s very fancy.”
“It is beautiful. It is not just simple luxury, Lady.”
Anastasia narrowed her eyes. Esteban Hohongel was a leading figure in fashion and jewelry in the kingdom.
Even though he was old, he had an endless passion for beauty.
His clothes and creations were so high in quality that they could be given as gifts to visiting dignitaries.
There was even a rumor that anything touched by his hands—no matter how small—could be sold for more than silver of equal weight.
“Then… where exactly did you see beauty in me, wearing riding clothes, that made you bring me here?”
Around them, there were eyes filled with suspicion and ridicule.
Anastasia ignored them. She knew it was rude—but they were the ones who were rude first.
She could ignore such mockery now.
She had endured far worse.
“Lady Anastasia of the Etranger ducal family, what do you think beauty is?”
It was quite a philosophical question.
And also a luxurious one—something Anastasia had never been asked before.
“Well… it’s been a long time since I felt beauty from clothes or accessories.”
Under Esteban’s wrinkles, his eyes shone.
It was the fire of a true artist—someone who expected to create the most beautiful thing in the world.
Esteban knew that, even in his aging body, his passion was still burning like a young man’s.
“It is balance, Lady. Look here. This place is not simply decorated with excess. The candles soften the strong white light of the chandelier.”
Indeed.
Light hitting the white walls spread and scattered softly across the space.
“Also, the walls and decorations maintain a simple tone to balance the ornate clothing.”
“…What does that have to do with me?”
“Lady Anastasia Etranger. I know it is improper to say this, but may I speak honestly?”
“Go ahead, Sir Hohongel.”
He was a knight by title as well, honored for his work in crafting and tailoring. There was no reason not to address him properly.
“You possess the most perfect balance of any lady I have ever seen. Your eyes, your radiant skin, and the coexistence of warmth and coldness in your expression.”
Warmth and coldness together.
Anastasia knew how much expressions affected a person’s impression.
Her family had always changed their expressions depending on the situation—like switching masks.
But Anastasia was no longer the foolish girl who only gave and suffered.
Now she had a soul frozen deep inside, controlled her own power, and carried both warmth and quiet strength in her posture.
That was the harmony Esteban spoke of.
“You have changed so much since I last saw you two years ago. At first, I did not even recognize you.”
“…I also did not recognize myself, so I won’t ask about that offense again.”
Esteban then led Anastasia to a special tailoring room for a one-of-a-kind custom outfit.
However, an annoying incident occurred.
“…Anastasia?”
Cecilia Etranger, the duchess of the Etranger family, had recognized her.
“…Madam?”
Esteban looked slightly flustered.
The duchess’s face was full of anger.
“How are you here?”
The duchess ignored Esteban and spoke sharply to Anastasia.
But now, her words were no longer a blade to Anastasia.
“Is there any law saying I must not be here?”
Anastasia narrowed her eyes and faced Cecilia directly.
Cecilia’s brows twisted, her expression tightening. Then she quickly opened her fan to hide her emotions.
“…Go back to the ducal estate while I’m speaking kindly. I don’t know why you’re here or how you got in… but you wouldn’t dare damage the Etranger family’s reputation by roaming around Esteban Hohongel’s shop in riding clothes, would you?”
Esteban was caught in the middle.
If he sided with the duchess, his pride as an artist would suffer.
If he sided with the second daughter, he would be opposing the duchess—a dangerous position.
“I don’t like it.”
But the one who broke the situation… was Anastasia.
“…What did you say?”
“I said I don’t like it. Please guide me, Sir Hohongel. I will take responsibility for what happens after.”
She did not want to listen to her family. She did not want to submit.
This life would be different.
Anastasia clenched her teeth and stared sharply at Cecilia.
Cecilia flinched at her fierce gaze.
Meanwhile, Esteban looked delighted—relieved of responsibility.
“Th-this way, Lady!”
At that moment, Cecilia grabbed Anastasia’s wrist.
“I don’t know where you’ve thrown away your manners. Are you even listening to your mother—”
Smack.
Anastasia coldly pushed her hand away.
Mother?
Disgusting.
All kinds of dark emotions boiled inside her.
“Don’t touch me.”
Cecilia was shocked. Anastasia had never spoken like this before.
“…What authority do you have to act like this? Aside from the name of Etranger, what else do you have?”
Anastasia smirked.
“You think I only have the name Etranger.”
“What else could you possibly have?”
Anastasia lightly stepped forward.
At that moment, a cool wind surrounded her.
Golden petals of golden osmanthus began swirling.
Cecilia panicked.
“Y-you…! The duke will punish you!”
Anastasia scoffed and grasped the air.
The swirling petals gathered and formed the shape of a cross.
A sword.
Just its silhouette.
Cecilia’s face turned pale. The nobles around them gasped.
But Anastasia did not turn it into a real blade.
She let it scatter again into petals.
“I guarantee it.”
She stepped closer to Cecilia.
“Your duke’s whip is nothing compared to my magic.”
“Such insolence—by what right—!”
“By the right of a court mage.”
And then—
“The Golden Osmanthus Grand Witch.”
Her name carried weight.
Cecilia raised her fan in anger and struck toward Anastasia’s cheek.
But Anastasia caught it.
She easily crushed it with magic, breaking it in half.
“Mother.”
Her voice was cold and sharp.
“Please leave. I heard only the noble are welcome here.”
Cecilia was furious.
Esteban ignored her anger. Anastasia did the same.
Soon, Zhenis Etranger and Aslan Etranger arrived.
“What’s going on, Mother?”
“Zhenis.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Anastasia is here.”
Aslan blinked. Zhenis frowned.
“Why is she here?”
“How would I know? She has no manners. I feel like storming in there and grabbing her hair…”
Then a calm voice came from behind.
“Calm yourself, madam.”
It was the head of the family, Sorvan Etranger.
He spoke calmly.
“Anastasia is… nothing more than low-born blood, isn’t she? Wearing fine clothes does not change her nature.”
A statement that denied her existence.
And yet, the family strangely felt reassured by it.
The curtain opened again.
“…My goodness.”
Everyone’s attention turned.
Anastasia walked out slowly, wearing a bright yellow dress.
She looked elegant and mysterious—almost sacred, like the golden petals she summoned.
Esteban was satisfied.
“Lady. Are you satisfied?”
Anastasia looked at everyone’s mixed expressions of envy and admiration, then at Esteban.
“I will attend the ball tomorrow.”
It was simple.
The royal masquerade ball had a “night” theme. A bright yellow dress would not suit it.
“Lady.”
Esteban took her hand and knelt once again.
And before everyone—
He made a promise no noble lady had ever received.
“Before you depart tomorrow night, I will create and deliver the most suitable dress for you.”
Anastasia glanced at Zhenis and Cecilia, then smiled.
“Very well. I look forward to it.”
As always, the passion of an old artist was something one could trust.
