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Misha, pretending to browse the dresses, had been circling around Retina before clicking past her on her heels.
Was she there in the mirror’s reflection too? Retina glanced back at Misha, leaving behind the overly excitable Pomparian.
Honestly, should she applaud Misha for the nerve it took to keep picking fights even after learning that the girl she’d thought was of low status actually had the mighty Deneuve family backing her? Retina’s half-lidded eyes drifted lazily toward Misha.
Well, it was humiliating to bow your head to someone you’d scorned for three years just because it turned out she wasn’t low-born after all—especially when that someone was Cecilia’s daughter.
Misha had once spread false rumors that Retina was at the academy only through a special admission because her parents had ruined the family estate. There was no way she would back down easily now. Whenever she saw Retina, she made no effort to hide her irritation—though she always managed to keep her composure when Retina was with her brothers.
“Everyone else inherited the duke’s dark navy hair, but I guess you just can’t hide your mother’s lowly blood, can you?”
Misha giggled behind her hand. She used to gnaw on her nails in jealousy, and after graduation she’d started digging into Retina’s past. At this point, one could almost believe her fixation on Retina was more like obsession—or even twisted affection—than mere hatred.
And finally, she’d found something to fuel that jealousy. The information she uncovered was true: Retina’s mother, Cecilia, had indeed been a commoner.
The Duke of Deneuve had lost his first wife to illness. Though his marriage to Cecilia wasn’t arranged, he respected her and never took another wife. He fell in love with Cecilia—a commoner—and Retina was born from that love.
The duke invited the pregnant Cecilia to move into the ducal estate, but she chose instead to live in a small village on the estate. She wanted to raise Retina quietly under her own surname so the child wouldn’t become a burden to the family.
Until, one day, she suddenly passed away.
Retina stared coldly at Misha, who had just insulted not only her but her late mother and family. The reason Retina could live confidently despite being an illegitimate child was because of her family’s unwavering love. Her father and brothers never cared what others said; they treated her as their precious youngest. But Misha Refaire had now crossed that line and insulted them too.
She could tolerate insults aimed at herself—but not at her family.
“Isn’t this dress pretty?”
“Yes, it’s truly lovely. It suits you perfectly, Lady Misha.”
“Well, what wouldn’t suit me?”
Retina silently watched Misha, who, after picking a fight, now acted like nothing had happened as she picked out dresses with her maid. Pomparian’s dresses were long forgotten.
“Hey, Lina.”
“Yes, my lady? Do you need something?”
“No, I just want to ask you something.”
“Anything! I’ll answer whatever I can!”
Still gazing at Misha, Retina thought carefully about what irritated her rival most. Then her eyes lit up.
“Is this salon popular among noble young ladies?”
“Popular? Of course! There’s a reason it’s the first shop on the street. It sets the trends for dresses these days! There are so many clients that even the maids compete to get in!”
“Really?”
A sly smile spread across Retina’s face. Unlike most students at Evelynte Academy—who were high nobles or elites—Retina had been quiet and plain, and often ignored. People saw her as meek and naive. In truth, she simply preferred reading a book over dealing with petty drama. She wasn’t a saint.
“Yes! You might not have noticed, but most of the dresses seen at recent parties come from here—‘Berrymax Fantastic Elegance.’ It’s not just famous among young ladies; it’s the most famous salon in all of society right now.”
Lina was thrilled that Retina was finally showing interest in dresses and answered eagerly. Retina realized she’d seen some of these designs at parties.
So, the salon’s reputation was that important, huh.
She nodded thoughtfully. Her brother Sart had given her extra spending money for this shopping trip—100 gold coins, to be exact—and told her to charge more to his name if needed. She’d thought he’d lost his mind, but for a ducal household, it was a trivial sum.
“Mister, I’d like to see that dress.”
Misha called Pomparian over from where he stood near Retina.
But Retina caught Pomparian’s arm as he tried to go to Misha.
“Mister Pomparian, I’ll take the dress you showed me earlier—and that one too.”
“Huh?”
“Why? Is that a problem? My wardrobe’s rather empty since I came back to the capital. Your designs are excellent, so I’ll need several more dresses.”
She pointed to the exact dress Misha had chosen. Pomparian hesitated, but his instincts honed from years in the salon told him Retina outranked Misha. He politely handed the dress to Retina instead.
“Hmph! Do you think that’s the only dress here? Fine, I’ll just pick another. That one looked tacky anyway.”
“I’ll buy that too.”
“You think these are the only dresses in the shop? I’ll just pick another one.”
“That one too.”
“This one—”
“Actually, I’ll just take everything from here to there. Dresses, shoes, fabric—the lot. There are too many parties coming up in the capital to bother choosing one by one.”
Retina crossed her arms and gestured to the entire display.
‘Berrymax Fantastic Elegance’ dresses cost as much as a family of four’s monthly living expenses per piece, but Retina wasn’t even looking at the price tags.
“We were just talking about refreshing your wardrobe, my lady! Perfect timing. We’ll take them all. Charge it to the Duke of Deneuve—Sart Deneuve.”
Even Lina, who’d worked for the family since childhood, didn’t try to stop her. In fact, she clapped in delight. By Deneuve standards, Retina’s wardrobe was laughably modest.
Lina quickly handed Pomparian a heavy pouch of gold coins and a signed card bearing the ducal seal.
“Y-you think this is the only salon on Rue Leblème? There are plenty of other places to buy dresses!”
“You’re right. There are lots of salons. Lina, should I ask Sart whether he wants to buy up every salon on this street? With all the noble ladies flocking here, it’d be quite a profitable venture. A place this popular wouldn’t suffer from losing one customer.”
“Wha—?! You…!!”
“Know your place. Don’t overstep.”
Retina stared straight at Misha, throwing her usual taunt right back at her.
She was born with everything—why should she bother caring about petty people? A word from her could make anything happen. The only reason she usually didn’t respond was because it was tiresome.
“Hmph!! Come on, Becky! There’s nothing here I like anyway!”
Misha spun around and stormed out. Retina knew it was a childish tactic, but it was also the most effective one against Misha.
Retina sighed, massaging her temples as she watched her rival leave. She had only reacted because Misha had dragged her family into it—but she wondered if she’d done the right thing.
This was exactly why she hadn’t revealed her Deneuve identity sooner. She could already imagine the gossip that would follow her at the next party.
“So, about the dresses…”
Pomparian approached with shining eyes, hands clasped eagerly.
“Didn’t I say I’d buy them all?”
“Yes, yes, of course! Oh dear, my memory’s going already. We’ll tailor them to today’s measurements and send them to the ducal estate. May I visit soon to finalize designs for the fabrics?”
His hands flew over the order book, while staff rushed to pack dresses. All eyes in the salon were fixed on Retina now.
“Take your time browsing. I’ll buy everything except what the others pick.”
As Retina left, the young ladies who had paused mid-selection scrambled to grab the dresses they wanted for upcoming parties.
