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Chapter: 9
After the order of confinement was issued, all of the belongings that had been in the room of the main residence were moved to the west wing—and among them was Sylvia’s personal safe.
When I opened it, I saw gold coins piled high inside.
“Wow.”
The gleam pouring out from the heap of coins was enough to hurt my eyes. And for the record, every single one of these coins was mine.
She’d been saving her allowance since she was little.
One gold coin was enough to cover a commoner’s living expenses for an entire month…
If I converted this pile into Korean won, how much would it be? Tens of billions, maybe?
In my previous life, I’d trembled just spending ten thousand won on a single meal. And now, here I was, owning money worth tens of billions.
Moments like this really drove home the fact that I was living a completely new life.
“Miss, the carriage is ready.”
Already? That was fast.
“Okay. I’ll come out now.”
I tucked a few gold coins into a small pouch and headed outside.
As I’d instructed, a plain, unremarkable rented carriage was waiting in front of the west wing.
There was a reason I’d chosen a rented carriage instead of the family’s—and among those, a particularly shabby one at that.
Sylvia, who loved drawing attention, always rode in the most extravagant carriage available.
So if I rode in a rundown rented carriage, no one would ever guess that Sylvia Atlante was inside.
My confinement hasn’t been lifted yet, so it’s better not to get caught going out if I can help it.
The carriage started moving with a jolt.
The ride is awful…
It was incomparably worse than a car, and even compared to the luxury carriages Sylvia used to ride, it was the absolute worst.
“I think I’m going to get motion sick.”
“Are you feeling unwell, Miss? Shall I tell them to stop the carriage?”
It had been a muttered comment, but Bell startled at once when she heard it.
Afraid she’d actually stop the carriage, I hurriedly waved my hands.
“No! I’m fine. I can handle it.”
Thankfully, the carriage came to a stop not long after.
Fortrum Street was bustling, living up to its reputation as the capital’s finest shopping district.
After living what was practically a confined life in the west wing, being among freely moving crowds made me feel…
Like my chest just opened up.
“Miss… are you really sure this is okay?”
Unlike my satisfied self, Bell had looked uneasy for a while now.
Disobeying the duke’s order of confinement, going out without a single escort—it all clearly worried her.
She’d followed my order to bring a carriage without a word, but now that it was actually happening, she seemed scared.
“It’s fine. We’ll just shop quietly and go back.”
“Still…”
“Look. I’m dressed so plainly—no one would think I’m a noble.”
The fabric was high quality, but all the decorations had been removed, leaving the blue dress looking almost bare. Rather than a noble lady, it looked like something a well-off commoner might wear.
“But someone might recognize you…”
“Really?”
Bell fell silent.
She knew it too—that even someone who knew Sylvia Atlante wouldn’t recognize her in her current state.
No, in fact, the better they knew the original Sylvia Atlante, the less likely they were to realize it was her.
Truth tends to be hard to see when prejudice gets in the way.
“See? So stop worrying and let’s enjoy ourselves.”
I strolled down the street at an easy pace, like a tourist.
Warm sunlight, a pleasantly noisy crowd, and the reassuring weight of a pouch full of gold coins in my arms.
It was, in every sense, a perfect day for shopping.
More than anything, I loved the absence of people’s stares.
Back at the mansion, I couldn’t do anything without eyes following me, but here, no one cared about me at all.
There were occasional glances, sure—but they were rare, and they didn’t seem like looks of recognition.
“Ha… this is nice.”
A hum escaped me naturally.
“Miss, where would you like to stop first?”
“Hmm. Herbs—”
I was about to say the real reason we’d come to Fortrum Street when a clothing shop displaying dresses in its window caught my eye.
What did it feel like to try on clothes and buy them in person, again?
Since becoming Sylvia, I’d worn plenty of clothes that weren’t hospital gowns.
But none of them had been to my taste.
Outfits overflowing with Sylvia’s preferences felt overwhelming to me—ribbons, frills, and dresses covered in jewels.
They were flashier and more childish than dolls’ clothes.
And it wasn’t just that Sylvia’s clothes didn’t suit my taste.
After losing weight, a lot of them stopped fitting properly.
Until now, I’d been altering the smallest of Sylvia’s clothes to wear.
Even the outfit I was wearing had already been altered three times.
The maids said if they altered it any more, it’d fall apart…
Coming to Fortrum Street had another purpose, but since I had both time and money, buying a few outfits wouldn’t hurt.
“Let’s buy clothes first.”
I stepped into the nearest clothing shop.
“Welcome!”
A middle-aged woman who seemed to be the owner greeted me warmly.
“How may I help you?”
“I’m looking for something comfortable to wear.”
“Is it for you, miss?”
“Yes.”
The shop owner examined me with sharp eyes, then nodded.
“You have such a lovely figure—you’d look good in anything!”
That was a first.
Before I got sick, I’d been chubby. Afterward, I’d been so thin people called it creepy.
And Sylvia had been… the complete opposite.
“The tailors must have had a hard time making clothes to fit the young lady. It must’ve taken twice the effort compared to others!”
The face of the young lady who’d said that—her roundabout way of calling Sylvia fat—came to mind.
She’d been close with Aerin, and disliked Sylvia so much she’d said things like that to her face.
Well, that hadn’t been the only time Sylvia was called fat.
Each time, Sylvia would flush red with humiliation and lash out in anger.
But people criticized Sylvia for her reaction—not the ones who’d insulted her.
“I hear Sylvia Atlante threw something again at the last party! Such terrible manners—tsk tsk. The Duke of Atlante must be in quite a bind, having a daughter like that.”
The bigger problem was that after incidents like that, Sylvia would binge-eat to relieve her stress.
The bingeing led to more weight gain, which led to more mockery, more anger, and even more bingeing.
A vicious cycle.
In any case, the old Sylvia could never buy ready-made clothes.
She always had to summon a tailor and have everything custom-fitted.
Sure, wealthy nobles think nothing of calling a tailor to their home. But there’s a difference between choosing not to—and being unable to.
Sylvia had been firmly in the latter category.
So wearing pre-made clothes like this felt strangely emotional.
“How about this? It’s a brand-new design from this season!”
The owner recommended a knee-length forsythia-yellow dress.
With small green flowers embroidered into the fabric, it looked lively and bright.
When I stepped out wearing it, the owner clapped her hands.
“I knew it would suit you! It’s like it was made just for you. Not everyone can pull off something like this, but your skin tone—”
She was really good at flattering people. Embarrassed by this unfamiliar praise, I quickly cut her off.
“Do you have anything else?”
“Of course! This one isn’t new, but it’s a popular design that’s stayed in fashion.”
I tried on outfit after outfit she recommended, and each time, the shop owner and Bell showered me with praise as if it were a competition.
“Wow! That one looks great on you too, Miss!”
“She really has a good eye. Long-necked figures like yours suit designs like this especially well. Here—try this one too!”
The impromptu fashion show went on for quite a while, only ending after a small hill of clothes I’d tried on had piled up.
The shop owner asked in a gentle voice,
“Shall I ring these up for you?”
“No. I still have more to buy.”
I called over Bell, who’d been standing around awkwardly.
“Bell. You pick some too.”
“…E-excuse me?! Wh-what do you mean—”
“Shopping isn’t fun if you do it alone.”
“B-but, Miss…”
Before Bell could finish protesting, the shop owner—sensing a business opportunity—quickly cut in.
“We have clothes that would suit this young lady as well!”
Before Bell could object, she was whisked away to try things on.
When she stepped out wearing a fresh-colored dress instead of her usual maid uniform, she looked like a girl her age.
“Um… umm…”
Bell fidgeted with the hem of the dress, sneaking glances at me.
I smiled warmly at her.
“It suits you.”
Her face flushed shyly, and while she stood there, I picked out a few more outfits the owner brought over.
Next to my mountain of clothes, a smaller pile formed—Bell’s.
“Have you decided?”
The shop owner asked eagerly, eyes shining as she calculated her profits.
I said the line I’d always wanted to try ever since seeing it in a drama.
“I’ll take everything up to here. Please ring up everything you picked out.”
“…E-everything?”
At her shocked expression, I smiled in satisfaction.
“Yes. Every single one—nothing left out.”
Swallowing hard, the owner hurriedly began wrapping the clothes, afraid I might change my mind.
“M-Miss!”
“Hm?”
Bell reacted belatedly.
“This is… this is too much…”
“It’s fine. You know I’m rich.”
And more than the money, I honestly didn’t think this was too much for Bell.
She’d endured all kinds of hardship as Sylvia’s personal maid, and even after a month had passed, she still sometimes looked afraid of me—which made me feel even worse.
I want to apologize properly, but…
I felt conflicted, because I wanted Bell to fully open her heart to me before my apology could truly reach her.
Money isn’t everything—but it does express feelings, at least a little.
Thinking that, I finished paying.
Despite buying so much, the pouch of gold coins barely felt any lighter.
In fact, once I got my change back, it would probably feel heavier.
But if it gets any heavier, it’ll be inconvenient to move around…
After a brief moment of thought, I found a solution.
Then I just won’t take the change.
I smiled sweetly at the shop owner.
“The remaining money is a tip.”
