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CHAPTER 07
The first breakthrough came in the form of a dress.
It was the gown Erna Hardy would wear for her debut at the royal palace.
Brenda Hardy studied the dress with a conflicted expression. It faithfully followed tradition in one respect—it was pure white, as every debutante’s gown should be. Beyond that, however, it was anything but conventional.
The neckline plunged daringly low.
Half of Erna’s shoulders and the gentle curve of her bosom would be exposed before the entire aristocratic society.
“What an extraordinary woman…”
Brenda muttered under her breath with a weary sigh as she leaned back into the wing chair.
The design had been Countess Meyer’s idea.
Brenda’s objections—that a more modest, traditional debutante gown would be more appropriate—had been dismissed without a second thought.
According to the Countess, nothing would be more ridiculous than a young woman making her debut at twenty while dressed exactly like girls five years younger than herself.
The remark had infuriated Brenda, but because it was true, she had found herself unable to argue.
Among Lechen’s nobility, young ladies usually made their social debut at the Founding Day Ball when they were around fifteen. Occasionally, illness or family circumstances delayed it by a year or two, but no one had ever debuted this late.
People might politely accept the explanation that Erna had spent her youth recovering from poor health in the countryside.
No one would truly believe it.
If she was destined to attract attention regardless, then she should do so spectacularly.
The dress itself was breathtaking.
Its puffed sleeves rested delicately off the shoulders, while the full skirt flowed gracefully to the floor. Layers of chiffon along the hem were tinted the palest shade of pink, lending warmth and life to what would otherwise have been a simple white gown.
It looked exactly as the dressmaker had promised—
Like a flower blooming for the very first time.
Of course, such a gown was far too extravagant for the daughter of an impoverished viscount.
But Walter Hardy, determined to restore his family’s fortunes through his daughter’s marriage, no longer cared what society considered appropriate.
Having steeled herself, Brenda rang the bell on the side table.
The maid she had sent away soon returned, bringing Lisa, the young maid assigned to attend Erna.
“Lisa, I have an important task for you.”
The girl straightened immediately.
“Yes, Madam! I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“Excellent.”
Brenda smiled faintly before rising from her chair.
“Make sure Miss Erna wears this gown.”
She stopped in front of Lisa.
“And if she isn’t dressed in it before it’s time to leave…”
Her smile disappeared.
“…you’ll be dismissed.”
* * *
Biern awoke much earlier than usual.
Granted, it was nearly noon—still an absurd hour by most standards—but for him, it was practically dawn.
“I’m delighted to see you awake so early, Your Highness,” Mrs. Fitz remarked as he emerged from the bath. A rare smile softened her usually expressionless face.
“Thanks to you, the servants have been spared His Majesty’s displeasure.”
Biern laughed quietly and strode toward the dressing room.
The attendants preparing his formal clothes paused at once and bowed respectfully.
The smile vanished from his face as easily as it had appeared.
He acknowledged them with nothing more than a slight nod.
Once dressed, he stood before the mirror while the attendants busied themselves making the final adjustments.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the gold embroidery of his ceremonial attire. Dust motes drifted lazily through the brilliant light.
Biern watched them in silence.
The ball would proceed perfectly well whether one troublesome prince attended or not.
He knew his father’s threats were empty ones.
King Philip III—the wise and beloved ruler of Lechen—would never truly force him at swordpoint.
Even so, Biern had decided to attend.
Privilege always came with obligations.
As long as he wished to enjoy the freedom his position afforded him, he owed the crown at least the bare minimum of responsibility.
That was the balance he had always maintained as a member of House Dniester.
“Everything is ready, Your Highness.”
The butler stepped back after making one final adjustment to his cloak.
Biern glanced once at his reflection.
The slightest lift of his lips transformed his expression entirely.
Without another word, he walked toward the front entrance, where his carriage already waited.
Behind him, the attendants watched with expressions of quiet admiration.
Mrs. Fitz followed him all the way outside.
“It might have been wiser to leave for the capital yesterday,” she said anxiously. “If the roads are crowded, you could arrive late.”
“That wouldn’t be such a terrible thing.”
“Your Highness!”
“Perhaps I should hope for a fallen tree to block the road.”
His tone was playful, but his movements remained graceful as he stepped into the carriage.
The carriage rolled away from the Grand Duke’s residence.
Outside, the late spring afternoon shimmered beneath clear blue skies, the countryside unfolding like a painting.
* * *
“This is all your fault! Every bit of it!”
As the royal palace finally came into view, Brenda Hardy exploded.
Walter Hardy sighed heavily before glaring at his wife.
“My fault? Are you seriously blaming me because someone else’s carriage overturned?”
“If you hadn’t mortgaged our townhouse in the capital to the banks, we wouldn’t be arriving at the palace looking like complete fools on the night of our daughter’s debut!”
Too exhausted to continue arguing, Walter simply closed his mouth.
Throughout the quarrel, Erna remained silent, staring blankly through the carriage window.
Schwerin lay close to the capital, Bern, and the journey was usually a short one.
But an accident along the road had delayed them for hours.
By now, the ball had already begun.
To Erna, however, that fact felt strangely distant.
If only the road had remained blocked forever…
She lowered her eyes, fighting back tears.
She was about to enter the royal palace wearing such an indecent dress.
She wanted to disappear.
The moment she had first seen the gown, she had refused to wear it.
Only Lisa’s desperate pleading had changed her mind.
“If you refuse, I’ll be dismissed today!” the maid had cried.
Unable to bear the thought of costing the innocent girl her livelihood, Erna had reluctantly compromised.
She would wear the dress—
But only if she could cover herself with a lace shawl.
Though visibly displeased, Brenda had eventually agreed.
“You remember everything Countess Meyer taught you?”
Walter asked sternly as the carriage passed through the palace gates.
“You’ll do exactly as you were instructed.”
Erna searched desperately through her thoughts.
What did she teach me…?
Nothing came.
The palace loomed ever closer.
Her fingers clutched the lace shawl so tightly they trembled.
* * *
“Viscountess! What on earth happened?”
Countess Meyer hurried down the palace steps the instant she spotted the Hardy family.
The King and Queen had already arrived.
The formal presentation of this season’s debutantes had long since ended.
“There was an accident on the road,” Brenda explained breathlessly.
“We’re… we’re terribly late.”
Victoria Meyer shot her a look of utter disbelief.
Then her attention fell on Erna.
“What is this?”
She seized the lace shawl draped over the girl’s shoulders.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Brenda hurried to explain.
“It was the only way we could persuade her to come.”
She lowered her voice.
“She refused to wear the dress otherwise. You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”
Pathetic excuses.
Countess Meyer clicked her tongue in irritation.
Without another word, she caught Erna by the wrist and marched toward the grand staircase.
Brenda Hardy’s incompetence made her blood boil.
“Countess… please… just give me a moment…”
Erna pleaded quietly.
“A moment?”
Victoria didn’t even slow her pace.
“His Majesty is already inside. What more time do you think you have?”
There was no possibility of transforming Erna into a polished society beauty now.
Perhaps…
Perhaps her innocence itself would prove irresistible.
The image of a pure country girl might succeed where polished sophistication could not.
Reaching the great doors of the ballroom, Countess Meyer addressed the guards.
“Open the doors.”
The massive doors, carved with the white wolf—the emblem of the House of Dniester—swung slowly open.
Light, music, and conversation flooded outward.
“The House of Viscount Hardy has arrived!”
The herald’s booming announcement echoed across the ballroom.
Hundreds of heads turned toward the entrance.
In that instant, Victoria Meyer realized something.
Appearing late like this…
Dramatically…
Would attract far more attention than entering alongside dozens of other debutantes.
This disaster had become an opportunity.
Meeting Walter Hardy’s eyes, she reached for Erna’s shawl.
Only then did Erna realize what she intended.
“No—!”
She instinctively tried to stop her.
Too late.
The lace slipped from her shoulders.
“Go, Miss Hardy.”
With one firm push between the shoulder blades, Countess Meyer sent Erna forward.
Like a priceless jewel thrown onto the grandest stage in the kingdom, Erna stumbled helplessly into the brilliant sea of light.
* * *
She couldn’t breathe.
That was the only thought Erna could manage.
Her heart pounded so violently it felt ready to burst from her chest, and every breath caught painfully in her throat.
Breathe…
She forced herself to inhale.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
The magnificent ballroom stretched endlessly before her, glittering with crystal chandeliers and filled with elegantly dressed nobles.
She took one trembling step.
Then stopped.
Only now did she remember the gown she was wearing.
Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her exposed shoulders and looked around in desperate search of help.
There was no one.
Only unfamiliar faces.
Blinding lights.
The countless eyes fixed upon her.
Everything blurred together until the room resembled a watercolor left out in the rain.
What should I do…?
She stood frozen, trembling like a frightened fawn abandoned in the middle of a pack of wolves.
At that very moment, above the murmurs sweeping through the ballroom, the herald’s voice rang out once more.
“Prince Biern has arrived!”
The effect of that single name rippled through the ballroom in an instant. Every conversation ceased, and every eye turned toward the entrance.
