🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter: 16
Time passed in a blur after arriving in Dewan.
Standing under the warm yellow light of the hotel room, Natalie stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror.
The crimson lace dress looked as if she had stolen someone else’s clothes—it did not suit her at all.
Perhaps that was natural. After all, the dress was meant for Dorothy.
The moment the three women arrived in Dewan, the first thing they did was spend time tracking down a tailor.
Fortunately, they were able to place an order at a relatively unpopular dress shop. Even then, it was only for repairing a dress that had been abandoned due to another lady’s change of mind. Yet Dorothy was delighted.
Natalie, frustrated, chose the most expensive silk at the dress shop and added extra embellishments.
Dorothy, who resembled the baroness, had the lightest eye and hair color among her four siblings. The pastel pink and crimson dresses, like spring flowers, suited her bright and charming aura perfectly.
Dorothy would wear the pink dress to the ball that evening. The crimson dress was a spare, in case she received another invitation.
Natalie wore the spare dress. If she wanted to avoid standing out, it was wiser to blend in with the crowd by wearing the latest fashion rather than pretending to be modest.
“Maybe it’s so unsuitable that I’ll stand out anyway…”
Natalie then examined her hair from every angle.
“A half-up hairstyle is in fashion now? Creepy.”
This season favored a modest and elegant style.
The tailor had advised that the half-up hair, exposing the forehead, was especially trendy—coincidentally similar to the style that worked well in courtrooms.
Feeling as if she had gone back three years, Natalie unconsciously scrunched her face when a knock sounded on the door.
“Mother.”
“Natalie, are you ready?”
It was the baroness, dressed for the ball after a long time. She fidgeted nervously with her fingers as if her clothes felt awkward.
“Yes, everything’s ready.”
“The dress is beautiful. Of course, so are you.”
Knowing all too well that the crimson dress did not suit her, Natalie responded with an awkward smile. When silence fell, the baroness hurriedly rummaged through her handbag.
“W-would you like to try this perfume? The tailor said you should smell it, and Dorothy said it was fine.”
Natalie took the small apricot-colored bottle, feeling uncertain. She felt compelled to show some reaction as her mother stared intently.
She dabbed a few drops on her wrist, and a fruity scent quickly filled the air.
“…Apple? Or lemon?”
“It’s meant to imitate lily of the valley. It’ll help ease your nerves a bit.”
“I see.”
Silence fell again.
It seemed her mother had something she wanted to say. Natalie spoke up.
“Go ahead.”
After hesitating, the baroness finally spoke.
“Natalie, dear. Could you greet the princess and then return to the hotel when the time is right?”
It was basic etiquette to greet the host when a ball began.
“Your face may not be remembered by many now, but you spent three social seasons in Dewan. Some people might remember you, and just in case…”
“…Ah.”
The baroness meant that if anyone recognized her, Natalie should briefly greet the princess and then disappear.
“As you know, this might be Dorothy’s last chance.”
Her tone and expression were more earnest than ever.
“I hope you won’t be too upset.”
“Yes, don’t worry. That’s exactly what I intended to do.”
She truly intended that, yet a certain sense of misery lingered. Natalie forced a smile.
“Alright.”
The baroness responded quietly, and another awkward silence followed.
“…By the way, the hotel is really wonderful. It must have cost a fortune…”
“That’s fortunate.”
The baroness hastily changed the topic. Natalie, still awkward, replied a bit hastily. The baroness, interrupted mid-sentence, moved her lips but eventually gave up the long-awaited conversation.
“…Let’s go. It’s been ages since Malik House was opened to the public, so there’s no harm in hurrying.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Although her reply was smooth, she found it hard to take the first step.
Her heart thumped anxiously.
Only then did Natalie realize she was afraid of standing in front of people.
“Natalie?”
“…The hem is a bit long.”
At her mother’s urging, Natalie forced a smile. Dorothy, being slightly taller, made the dress trail along the floor.
Natalie grasped the hem in her hand, took a short, deep breath, and began to follow her mother out of the hotel room.
‘I’ll just greet the princess, stand by the wall for a bit, and leave the hall. Nothing will happen in that short time.’
After all, it had been three years. Countless scandals had occurred since, and no one would pay attention to her.
They shouldn’t.
Yet, contrary to Natalie’s hopes, the moment she entered the hall, someone recognized her.
From a vantage point overlooking the ballroom entrance, Ian was watching the guests, just as his assistant had instructed. More precisely, he was observing the problematic bride candidates recommended by Catherine.
“Your Highness, the lady who just entered is the daughter of Viscount Lington.”
Marcus alternated between the guest list and a small portfolio of portraits.
Leaning against a pillar, Ian’s gaze fell on Miss Lington. Dressed in pink satin, she looked both confused and excited as she frantically scanned the ballroom.
‘Pink again this time.’
The prince identified ladies by color rather than memorizing faces—but now with so much pink, that system was becoming unreliable.
“Viscount Lington went bankrupt recently due to gambling. The advantage is that he is small-minded in everything but gambling, so he won’t overreach.”
No one could fault him for being indifferent in choosing a bride, considering he thought of a wife as little more than a one-year contract.
“Additionally, Miss Lington is rumored to be the child of the viscountess’s affair, and a year ago, her marriage was unilaterally canceled.”
“The Duchess of Horace is thorough. Every candidate is formidable.”
Mechanically, Ian smiled, replying in a hollow tone. Marcus frowned at the prince’s habitual indifference.
“Please focus, Your Highness. You show too little interest.”
“Haha, it’s only a one-year marriage. Why bother so much?”
The prince’s joke left Marcus exasperated.
Having an unsuitable spouse would ruin the prince’s reputation, and divorce was the most assured and peaceful way to strip succession rights—a method Ian himself had jokingly endorsed: “I cannot become a rebel.”
Marcus recognized that a divorced man was better than a rebel, but anyone who cared for him could not help feeling frustrated.
So, even knowing it was futile, Marcus hoped Ian would marry the best of Catherine’s candidates. Just as he was about to scold the prince,
“Your Highness, perhaps a bit more attention….”
“…Hah.”
The prince sighed deeply. Marcus, remembering how Ian hated repetition, shut his mouth immediately. Judging from a sideways glance, the sigh was not directed at him.
The prince’s brow furrowed strangely as he looked toward the entrance. More than irritation, it was curiosity.
“Why is she here….”
Ian murmured with a complicated expression.
From time to time, someone would appear in his life so bothersome he could not ignore them.
Straightening from the pillar and looking anxiously at both sides, he began scrutinizing the entering woman.
Three years had passed, yet she looked exactly as she had the last time.
The same unstable appearance, the face younger than her age, the tears and sniffles in the courtroom—all unchanged. Only her attire was more elegant, suitable for a royal ball.
Aside from appearing nervous, she looked fine at first glance. Ian secretly felt relieved but did not realize it.
“Did she steal that dress…?”
From his perspective, educated in taste from a young age, the crimson dress was entirely unsuitable for her.
‘She’s better than I thought.’
Leaning against the wall, Natalie thought to herself. She blended into the background and, whenever someone approached, moved busily as if she had a reason to be there.
‘Who would’ve thought that dodging dance requests would be useful now.’
Despite her tension, no one seemed to recognize her. Perhaps she had nothing to worry about from the start. Charlotte Princess’s ball was completely different from any other she had attended.
Malik House, hailed as the most beautiful mansion in the capital, lived up to its reputation. Every guest was a prominent figure.
‘Though a few provincial ladies like me were probably invited too.’
Natalie had been to royal balls before.
When she debuted, she was invited to the Obon Palace, where the king held court. But that ball was open to any debutante; the crowd was filled with young nobles and their parents searching for marriage partners.
In contrast, this ball was different. Nobles and high-ranking guests she had only seen in illustrations were now alive and moving before her.
For instance, the Duchess of Horace, called the queen of society. Elegant and enchanting, she drew glances from anyone with eyes.
Once again, Natalie reminded herself: this was not a ball where a mere Viscountess Warfield would be invited.
Lost in thought, she, like the other guests, could not tear her eyes from the duchess.
