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Chapter: 22
The Baroness was both delighted and anxious at the same time. Natalie, seeing that her mother seemed to need an explanation, told her she was too tired today and would explain everything tomorrow, then closed the door behind her.
Mechanically, she stripped off her dress and accessories, changed into her thin pajamas, and fled to her bed, pulling the covers over her like an escape.
Today was undoubtedly one of the worst days of her life.
The whole day had been full of people making her life miserable. She felt miserable as a powerless person who could only endure and furious at herself for being so foolish. Breathing roughly, she irritably tossed off the covers and sat up abruptly.
“What choice do I even have? Death or becoming a divorced woman—there’s no real option.”
Staring into the pitch-black darkness, she couldn’t hold back her anger any longer and punched the pillow beside her.
“Is the prince everything? Fine, you think you’re great. But you’re human too; one day, you’ll cry as well.”
She muttered the words like a curse, recalling the smiling face that had constantly looked at her.
“…Hmph.”
After staring into the void for a while longer, she swallowed her sniffle, lay down quietly, and once again, with the covers over her head, shed silent tears.
But the next morning, the three ladies of the Warfield Baron household didn’t need to go to the dress shop.
“…….”
Natalie stood with her arms crossed in a defiant posture, staring at the stacks of boxes piling up in the hotel suite’s sitting room, her eyes puffy from sleep.
The Baroness and Dorothy, who had come out of their rooms due to the early morning commotion, also couldn’t take their eyes off the colorful boxes filling the sitting room table.
“We’ve prepared a variety since we weren’t sure of Lady Warfield and the two young ladies’ tastes,” said a neat-looking man with a slightly sensitive expression, politely introducing himself as Prince Ian’s assistant, Marcus Pebble.
“However, the dress that Miss Daus personally selected for her is in the white box, so please take note of that.”
As the Baroness and Dorothy frantically opened the boxes, Marcus quietly added to Natalie.
Natalie vowed she would never wear the dress in the white box. She knew full well it was a meaningless act of rebellion.
“We will come to escort you around nine o’clock in two days, Lady Warfield, and the two young ladies,” Marcus concluded.
The storm-bringer completed his task and swiftly departed. Natalie was thoroughly irritated by his final words.
The mere act of sending the dresses and accessories had been enough to annoy her, but the assistant’s promise to arrive in two days was the icing on the cake.
The prince clearly hadn’t considered the possibility that she would refuse his offer.
‘Does he really think that even being a princess for just a year would automatically be considered an honor?’
If so, it was enough to make her want to explode.
‘I don’t want to die, and I’m not exactly imagining a field of flowers in my head.’
“Oh my, this dress is lovely,” Dorothy muttered while opening the boxes, full of excitement and anticipation even in her monologue.
Hearing Dorothy’s joyous voice, Natalie absentmindedly glanced at her.
Dorothy was looking at the white box—the very one that Prince Ian’s assistant had whispered was for Natalie.
“I can’t pull off this color, so you can wear it, sister.”
No. Absolutely not. Absolutely nothing like that was going to happen. Natalie screamed silently inside her head and walked back into her room. But she couldn’t have a moment to herself.
No sooner had Natalie entered than the dressmaker sent by Prince Ian burst in. She measured every inch of the three ladies’ bodies from head to toe, promising that if Natalie chose her dress within three days, she would have it altered first.
“Then, I’ll go with this dress.”
Prince Ian’s confidence and certainty were infuriating. Completely exhausted in such a short time, Natalie pointed at the pink box with her fingertip.
“What? But Natalie, that’s…”
“I like this one.”
She was stubborn for the first time in a while.
The day she hoped wouldn’t come arrived quickly.
Two days passed in the blink of an eye, and the day of the ball finally dawned. How quickly the day flew. The sun had already begun to set, and the final touches were underway.
“How shall we do the hairpiece, Miss Daus?”
Donna, the young maid helping the three ladies while they stayed at the Dwan, asked Natalie.
She had been sent by Bianca. Feeling bad about not being able to help Dorothy this season, Bianca was overjoyed to hear that the three ladies had been invited to the royal ball and immediately sent a letter to the Rutherford townhouse, requesting that a maid be sent.
Of course, she had to operate without the Count of Rutherford knowing, so the young girl, without much experience, came with an introduction letter and knocked on the hotel room door.
Donna, who looked around sixteen or seventeen, was capable of handling chores as well as makeup and hairstyling. Though not very wealthy, she became a beacon of light for the three young ladies, who didn’t know much of anything themselves.
“…How can we make it look subtle?”
“Hmm. Then we’ll finish with a small pearl pin.”
Donna wasn’t fazed by Natalie’s occasional cryptic instructions.
“All done, Miss Daus.”
“Natalie, are we ready?”
Just as Donna spoke, the Baroness knocked gently on the door to urge Natalie along.
“I’m going! Thank you, Donna.”
“Enjoy yourself, Miss Daus,” Donna murmured as she watched Natalie dash off.
“You’re one of the rare young ladies I’ve had the honor to assist who’s truly beautiful. And that dress ruined everything…”
Donna had a talent for styling, but even she couldn’t overcome the aged look of that dress.
“We’ve been waiting, Lady Warfield, and the two young ladies.”
The carriage carrying the three Warfield daughters stopped at the rear entrance of the duke’s estate. Waiting for them outside the carriage was none other than the Duchess of Horace, Catherine.
“So this must be Miss Dorothy Daus. My goodness, why have I only just discovered such a charming young lady? May I call you Dorothy?”
“It’s my honor, Lady Horace,” Dorothy replied as if in a dream.
“If Lady Warfield permits, I would love to be your young daughter’s chaperone,” Catherine said warmly.
Dorothy, captivated by Catherine’s mysterious eyes, only realized the meaning of her words belatedly. As Dorothy gasped and covered her mouth, the slightly calmer Baroness bowed deeply in gratitude.
From a step behind, Natalie could hear the prince’s voice ring out like clockwork:
“I can accomplish a lot with you as my wife for a year.”
She understood immediately what he meant.
Though she hadn’t given any reply yet, the reward for participating in that disgusting scheme was already spectacular.
“Then take my hand, and let’s enter together. I’ll introduce you to my friends,” Catherine said, offering her arm to Dorothy. As Dorothy hesitated, Catherine took the lead with confident, graceful steps. Natalie quietly followed behind with her mother.
Dorothy couldn’t believe that the highly admired Lady Horace had become her chaperone and kept sneaking glances at her face, even knowing it was improper. Catherine caught Dorothy’s gaze and smiled warmly.
“No need to be nervous. This is a relaxed gathering with only my closest friends, all of whom are well-mannered,” Catherine said.
That must mean she only invited those who would carefully observe etiquette. At least no pervert would be rude to the Daus family. Natalie felt a small sense of relief.
Upon entering the hall, her eyes naturally widened. The duke’s ball, worthy of a queen of high society, was more than just splendid.
Wax candles lit every corner, and chandeliers sparkled like stars in the glow. With all windows removed to match the warm weather, the hall felt almost outdoors. The sound of flowing water blended with the elegant orchestra, while sheer white curtains fluttered beautifully.
It felt as though she had stepped into a fairy gathering on a midsummer night, and Natalie’s tension eased slightly.
The moment Catherine appeared, all eyes turned to her. Young Dorothy, arm in arm with Catherine, looked like the heroine of the evening and the center of attention.
The Baroness, with Catherine’s assistance, watched her youngest daughter greet the guests from a few steps away, then turned to glance at Natalie standing beside her.
“Is this all really not a dream?” her mother’s gaze seemed to ask, and Natalie’s lips curved into a small smile.
She nodded slightly to her mother.
‘Yes. What wouldn’t I do to see this expression?’
Clasping her hands tightly as if they were freezing despite her racing heart, she thought.
Then commotion erupted at the entrance. A crowd surged, and blind cheers and gasps could be heard.
‘He’s here.’
Natalie knew the prince had arrived.
“Oh my, Prince Ian seems to have arrived. Natalie, shouldn’t you go greet him? After all, Lady Horace’s kindness wouldn’t exist without him.”
“He seems very busy,” she said with an awkward smile, using it as an excuse. The murmuring of the crowd seemed to grow closer. She turned her head, half expecting the worst.
“…….”
The feeling when that unnervingly beautiful man, who seemed to sap everyone’s spirit, spotted her from afar, waved cheerfully, and began striding straight toward her.
‘Why is he smiling….’
It was truly complicated.
The moment their eyes met, the sound of the world seemed to vanish, and her breath caught as though watching the prologue of a play.
She could hardly move.
‘No. Don’t come. I said don’t come.’
Her last ounce of reason screamed as the prince, long-legged, appeared right in front of her in an instant.
