IOBAO 05

Chapter 05 …

It could not be helped.

After all, she possessed an impure bloodline. She was unable to see the faces of the Akhir imperial family properly.

At least one fortunate thing remained—she could still see Ezet’s jet-black hair.

His eyes as well. It was simply extremely difficult to read emotions from them, but she could at least distinguish their surface color.

Gold.

Cold black, deep blue, blood-red—those colors would have suited someone as cold and cynical as Ezet far better.

Yet Ezet’s eyes were a brilliant gold.

For some reason, it reminded her of the sun hanging over the Northern Gate Stone Territory, filled with biting cold.

Perhaps because it resembled Ezet’s eyes so closely.

The divine beast Ror asked:

〈Did you say the Northern Gate Stone Territory has many monsters?〉

“Yeah. A lot. It’s still one of the Gate Stone Territories, after all. That should be good for you two.”

〈Master. When you say it like that, it makes us sound like monsters too, doesn’t it? We’re legendary divine beasts, you know? Extremely sacred beings? Jeokjo, whom people would burst into tears and fall prostrate worshipping just from seeing us walk down the street?〉

Ol grumbled, but Diarin pretended not to hear him.

“Ah, I should sleep first. They said tomorrow I’ll need hours of skin treatment again.”

And not just skin care.

They said they would treat her hair, tint her fingernails and toenails pale pink with flower dye, and polish them until they gleamed.

There would also be full-body massages, and even a famous dress designer from the capital had been scheduled to visit.

Ever since arriving at the Concle grand estate, Diarin had never once received such extravagant luxury treatment.

Well, after this, they would probably even bring lingerie from some famous salon.

‘That wouldn’t be bad either.’

If she had to wear it anyway, she should ask them to buy one covered in gold.

Before long, Diarin fell asleep.

The next day.

Diarin slowly rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling once.

‘…This really feels like sitting on a bed of thorns.’

The familiars immediately reacted to their contractor’s emotions.

〈Ror, Master’s mood is getting worse again.〉

〈This devil has rarely ever been in a good mood to begin with, Ol.〉

〈That’s true.〉

Diarin ignored the chatter between Ol and Ror with one ear. She habitually tried to brush back the hair near her ear, but froze when she met a sharp glare.

“Honestly! How many times have I told you to be careful? You’ll ruin your hair, Lady Diarin!”

“Ah, yes.”

Diarin obediently lowered her hand.

She stood before a large mirror decorated with silver ornaments, wearing only her undergarments, petticoat, and a flowing robe.

Standing behind her was the head designer, Monsieur Rimud, muttering in displeasure.

“This is exactly why collateral bloodlines are such a nuisance…”

Monsieur Rimud’s assistants busily adjusted the dresses. They were all experts at pretending not to hear things.

‘Monsieur Rimud.’

He was a designer with unrivaled prestige.

An arrogant designer who accepted commissions only from nobles of count rank or higher.

It seemed Duke Concle had given very strict instructions to the butler and head maid.

Still, Monsieur Rimud did not look pleased. Diarin could easily guess why.

‘He probably thought these dresses were for Elise.’

Elise was Duke Concle’s real daughter and the sole young lady of House Concle, around Diarin’s age.

As if proving that fact, every dress displayed in the reception room looked suitable for a noble lady in her early twenties.

After being filled with anticipation only for a collateral relative of Concle to appear instead, it was understandable that Monsieur Rimud’s expression was poor.

‘Well, anyway.’

Diarin decided to choose a dress.

Since Duke Concle had gone to such lengths, she ought to meet his expectations.

Besides, Diarin already had a clear standard in mind.

The most expensive dress here!

Mages were creatures overflowing with greed just as much as curiosity.

There had even been great archmages who hoarded treasures like dragon lairs and built personal sanctuaries from them.

Diarin was not quite that extreme, but seeing so many beautiful and expensive things still put her in a good mood.

As expected of dresses brought to dazzle Elise completely, every single one glittered with blinding luxury.

The fabric thread count exceeded sixty, making it durable, and the large diamond decorating the chest used a brilliant cut—

‘No, I’m evaluating these too much like a mage.’

Pulling herself together, Diarin resumed examining the dresses like a normal noble lady before selecting the one that looked the most expensive.

An assistant immediately hurried over.

“My lady, would you like to try this dress on? Please wait just a mome—”

“Oh, Lady Diarin Concleister.”

Monsieur Rimud lightly interrupted.

With a professional voice, he said:

“This dress does not suit the color of your eyes, Lady Diarin.”

“My eye color?”

“Yes. Rather than that dress…”

Monsieur Rimud brought out a bluish-purple gown.

“How about this one? It’s very enchanting.”

The bluish-purple dress was elegant and pretty, but lacked any real splendor.

Diarin’s goal today was very clear.

Choose a dress so expensive it would make people gasp.

When Diarin tilted her head slightly, Monsieur Rimud perceptively narrowed his eyes with a smile.

And as always, he repeatedly emphasized her adopted status by calling her “Lady Diarin Concleister.”

“Please continue looking around, Lady Diarin Concleister.”

“Understood, Monsieur Rimud.”

There were many candidates.

For example, this golden dress.

The watteau pleats attached to its shoulders trailed lightly across the floor, while the beautiful fabric, like a layer of mist itself, was embroidered endlessly with grapevines in gold and silver thread.

The moment Diarin pointed at the dress—

Tap.

“You truly have excellent taste, Lady Diarin Concleister. However…”

Pulling the golden dress away, Monsieur Rimud sighed regretfully.

“This dress is such a deep and intense gold that it would rather dull your complexion, Lady Diarin. I believe this dark gray dress would suit you much better. What do you think?”

“That dress?”

“Of course, Lady Diarin.”

The dark gray dress was neat.

Too neat. A priest could probably wear it without issue.

‘Why not just tell me to layer priest robes instead?’

Diarin mocked inwardly while smiling at Monsieur Rimud.

“This is amusing.”

Monsieur Rimud, who had been subtly tormenting Diarin to soothe his inner irritation, lifted an eyebrow.

“Amusing, you say? What exactly do you find amusing?”

Calmly brushing her hair behind her ear, Diarin replied:

“Why, choosing dresses, of course. Looking at your masterpieces feels like admiring works of art.”

“Ha ha. You flatter me, Lady Diarin.”

Now in a better mood, Monsieur Rimud generously selected a dress of fairly decent quality and presented it to her.

“Lady Diarin Concleister. What do you think of this milk-white dress? The curve spreading from the waist is extremely refined and elegant.”

Diarin glanced at the dress before quietly nodding.

Monsieur Rimud smiled with narrowed eyes.

‘Good. So she’s not a woman completely ignorant of her station.’

It seemed this lowly collateral-blood girl had finally realized that simply wearing one of his dresses was already an honor to her family.

“Well then, all of you? The young lady has chosen her dress, so hurry and help her into it.”

“Yes!”

Diarin applied makeup matching the pure white gown and even wore a small lace hat.

Once gloves, shoes, and the jewels Concle had prepared in advance were added, she dazzled brilliantly.

Monsieur Rimud became slightly irritated.

He had intentionally dressed this collateral-blood lady in a mid-tier dress because he disliked how she kept picking only the highest-quality gowns—

And yet she still looked this beautiful.

Still, this was the Concle ducal house.

Even for Monsieur Rimud, continuing to act petty here would be troublesome.

So, like a designer entertaining a customer, he politely said:

“It suits you wonderfully, Lady Diarin Concleister. It feels as though this dress was born for you.”

The assistants quickly caught on and applauded.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Diarin asked:

“Does it?”

“Of course. Then shall we settle on this dress?”

“Sure.”

The moment she answered, Monsieur Rimud immediately began writing the bill.

Payment would be handled by the head maid, and she would naturally inspect Diarin’s appearance before paying.

‘The head maid will certainly be satisfied.’

Monsieur Rimud sneered inwardly.

How could a low-ranking bloodline possess such noble and elegant beauty?

At this point, it almost felt like his work had benefited from her instead.

‘Hmph. Well, I’ll still earn a handsome sum.’

Monsieur Rimud wrote down double the dress’s original price.

He was certain the head maid, once she saw Diarin, would pay without complaint.

The moment Diarin signed the receipt, Monsieur Rimud no longer felt the need to maintain even minimal courtesy toward her.

Pleasing the head maid—the true power within the household—was far more important.

So, leaving even Diarin behind, he immediately went to escort the head maid in.

“Now then, Head Maid. Please see for yourself.”

Monsieur Rimud naturally expected praise from the head maid.

At the very least, he expected a satisfied gasp.

But—

“What in the world is this disgrace, Monsieur Rimud?”

What returned instead was only the head maid’s icy rebuke.

Monsieur Rimud, who had been smiling so brightly his eyes nearly disappeared, froze in confusion.

‘Disgrace?’

Puzzled, he turned toward Diarin—

And stiffened completely.

That dazzling adornment?

That painstaking styling?

Gone.

Diarin looked as though she were wearing only the dress.

Even the folds Monsieur Rimud had personally arranged were completely ruined.

It was the “mid-tier dress” he himself had selected.

Now that all the extra decorations he had intentionally layered on her were gone, the gown honestly looked almost ragged.

Monsieur Rimud stared blankly.

‘W-When did she remove all of it?’

〈I did. Pathetic little human.〉

The voice of the divine beast Ror echoed where only Diarin could hear it.

If Ror had been physically present, she thought he would absolutely be wearing an expression of utter disdain right now.

Meanwhile, the head maid shouted furiously:

“I repeatedly warned you, yet you dressed the young lady with such carelessness!”

The head maid, who had once attended the late Duchess Concle and later Lady Elise Concle in succession, personally managing their wardrobes for years, felt outright insulted.

“Who exactly chose this pile of rags?”

At the icy accusation, Monsieur Rimud hurriedly regained his senses and answered:

“Lady Diarin Concleister said she preferred bright styles and selected it herself—”

“Oh?”

Diarin turned away from the mirror and spoke.

“That can’t be right. White is the color I hate most.”

That was precisely why she had obediently worn the dress on purpose.

Diarin glanced toward the head maid.

“You know that too, don’t you, Head Maid?”

That was true.

This collateral noble lady, who lived quietly like a dead mouse in the annex, never wore white clothes.

It was the one personal preference the head maid of House Concle knew about Diarin.

Which meant this damned designer had not only disrespected House Concle, but had also dared lie directly to her face!

“Monsieur Rimud!”

Blood vessels bulged in the head maid’s eyes.