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Chapter 19
Lilliane chose the dress, and Rena did her hair.
Ever since Minuet brought home the invitation to Grand Duchess Crowley’s tea party, the LeVine estate had been in an uproar. Now her only task was to behave properly today and not cause trouble. Hugging her etiquette book tightly to her chest, Minuet hurried after Lilliane.
Grand Duchess Crowley’s garden was beautiful.
The garden where Minuet’s skill had shone was now bathed in the June sunlight, glittering as brightly as it possibly could.
It was crowded with noblewomen dressed in colorful, dazzling gowns that almost outshone nature itself. There were royals from distant lands, daughters and ladies from prestigious noble houses, and even famous journalists.
“The lady wearing the blue feathered hat is the Crown Princess of the Kingdom of Gloria, and the one beside her is the young lady of House Cernois…”
At some point, Lilliane began walking in step with Minuet, quietly naming each guest from behind her fan.
“They say this is modest compared to a debutante ball.”
Minuet swallowed hard, hiding her astonished expression behind Lilliane’s fan.
The tea party held in the garden was practically a ballroom transplanted outdoors, a display of the Grand Duchess’s immense influence over society. Lilliane’s elaborate attire, which might have seemed excessive elsewhere, blended in perfectly here.
As if it were only natural, Lilliane walked straight to the center table and found her name card at the most prominent seat. At her sister’s subtle signal, Minuet awkwardly followed her toward the center.
As expected—the queen of this year.
Though the young ladies who had lost the seat beside Grand Duchess Violet glared at Lilliane in frustration, Lilliane calmly enjoyed their jealousy.
“I apologize. I must step away briefly.”
As guests exchanged polite greetings with practiced smiles, Jereina hurried over and whispered something to the Grand Duchess. Violet rose from her seat.
“I have committed rudeness by leaving such important guests unattended. I shall return shortly. In the meantime, please enjoy your tea and the beautiful garden.”
As the Grand Duchess left with Jereina, guests expressed regret—but soon enough, their voices rose again in new conversation. All of it was praise for the garden featured in the newspaper.
As expected of Violet Crowley of Nicander.
A royal of Visk.
The flower of high society, whose refined style and taste never faded with age, captivating the nobles of Nicander.
“As expected of the Grand Duchess Crowley. How did she cultivate such a beautiful garden?”
A woman said to be royalty from a small country praised the garden loudly.
“Do you happen to know who decorated it?”
“That’s exactly what we’re most curious about. Who could it be?”
“I would love my garden arranged like this. Perhaps she brought a decorator from Nicander? I’ve never seen this style in Visk.”
Listening to the flood of compliments accompanied by the soft sound of a cello playing at the garden’s center, Minuet’s lips twitched upward again and again.
“It was not brought from Nicander.”
Setting down her teacup and lightly dabbing her lips with a lace handkerchief, Lilliane spoke casually.
“Oh my, Miss Lilliane, do you know who decorated the garden?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Who is it? I must meet them at once.”
Pressed from all sides to reveal the secret, Lilliane reluctantly lowered her handkerchief.
She shrugged slightly, and her gaze landed on Minuet. The intention behind that look was unclear.
“Why are you looking at Miss Minuet—?”
The puzzled expressions soon turned to realization.
“Surely not?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
At Lilliane’s confirmation, the noblewomen who had already decided to entrust their own gardens to the decorator of Crowley’s estate became unsettled.
“Surely… you don’t mean that Miss LeVine herself decorated the garden?”
“I heard her health is still fragile… no, that’s not the issue, but…”
As suspicious gazes turned toward her, Minuet’s shoulders shrank in discomfort.
“My health is fine. Thank you for your concern.”
The highlight of the tea party should have been the queen of the debutantes. But the throne filled solely by Lilliane was no longer a particularly interesting topic.
If she could not monopolize society’s attention herself, Lilliane wished at least to redirect it toward another LeVine.
After all, her sister was also a LeVine.
Even if not as brilliantly as herself, drawing attention would not be a loss.
This year, the newspapers were obsessed with one name: LeVine, LeVine, LeVine.
Miss LeVine who rejected the Crown Prince.
Miss LeVine, the debutante queen of the year.
If a rural noble unaware that House LeVine had two daughters read the papers, they would think the press had gone mad, speaking so differently of the same house.
The noblewomen of central Ivelia often remarked that this year the Countess LeVine’s heart must be traveling between heaven and hell.
That, Minuet could understand.
What they could not understand was why Countess LeVine did not restrain the daughter who had only recently risen from her sickbed and seemed to know nothing of propriety.
“Surely… you did not tend the garden yourself?”
“Oh, surely not. A daughter of House LeVine…”
One young lady spoke with her mouth hanging open, unable even to bite into her pastry. Another waved her hands quickly, thinking it improper.
“Yes, I did. I chose each flowerpot myself.”
Before Lilliane could deny it, Minuet shyly spoke of her accomplishment.
“Each… flowerpot?”
The noisy tea table fell silent as if cold water had been thrown over it.
“Of course. And the flowers planted in them, I—”
Under the table, Lilliane sharply stepped on Minuet’s foot.
“Ah!”
Startled, Minuet looked up and saw the expressions around her. One young lady set down the pastry she had not yet dared to eat, staring at Minuet in shock.
“No, no. My sister spent such a long time ill that she still struggles with communication. She means she had the servants choose them one by one, of course. How could a count’s daughter soil her hands with dirt? Isn’t that so?”
At last understanding, the guests relaxed and nodded. A few still looked doubtful, but the idea of a noble lady getting dirt on her hands was unimaginable.
“Ah… of course. I was quite startled.”
“Oh dear, you made us misunderstand.”
Though Lilliane’s gaze remained fixed on the guests, the shape of her lips was directed at Minuet.
Please.
Minuet’s shoulders shrank as she read her sister’s silent plea.
Tea was served. The guests, who had been proudly discussing their jewels and gowns, each picked up sugar cubes for their cups.
Sit beside someone older and observe their manners.
The line from the book echoed in Minuet’s mind. She dropped a sugar cube into her tea as the others did, stirred carefully, and set the teaspoon down.
Plop.
Trying to appear refined, she mimicked what she had once seen somewhere—lifting the saucer gracefully, raising her little finger, and sipping.
This is quite well done, actually.
Though no one acknowledged it, pride swelled within her.
But the guests, still chattering moments ago, were once again horrified. One young lady turned her back entirely, unable to watch further.
“Ow.”
Lilliane stepped on her foot again.
With deliberate exaggeration, Lilliane clinked her teaspoon onto the saucer and noticeably lowered her finger, pressing the saucer back onto the table.
Only then did Minuet realize her mistake once more.
The saucer stays down.
The teaspoon rests on the saucer.
Once again, silent but terrifying words formed on Lilliane’s lips.
Please.
Just.
Pull yourself together.
“Grandmother, I’ve arrived.”
The one who greeted the displeased Grand Duchess brightly was Onyx.
“Tsk. Minuet is in the garden. Will you greet her?”
Onyx had not expected Minuet’s name to come from his grandmother’s mouth. He removed his hat with an embarrassed expression.
“So the rumor reached you as well. I thought you might not know, since you rarely read newspapers.”
“Do you think I am so old I cannot hear? There are those who inform me.”
“And did those who informed you also say it was nothing worth worrying about?”
“Why would it not be worth worrying about?”
Though flustered, the Grand Duchess waited for his answer.
“If it is merely a desperate act, then we need only wait. If she truly refuses to marry me, then we can simply find another suitable match.”
As Onyx spoke casually, laying out each point as if solving a problem, the Grand Duchess’s expression hardened.
“Marriage is built on love and faith. Is that truly what marriage means to you?”
“Grandmother, I am the Crown Prince. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince of a declining Visk. For someone like me, marriage is merely an alliance with a house that benefits the nation. It would be regrettable to lose House LeVine, with its many mines and lands abroad, but His Majesty would simply find another wealthy family.”
“To hear such words from you. The crown has ruined you.”
Have you grown so much that my admonitions no longer reach you?
Knowing her scolding would no longer change him, Violet spoke with resignation.
“Ruined? I’ve simply become an adult.”
“So will you greet her or not?”
“Well… I have done something rather absurd.”
Onyx smiled faintly.
How many women must have fallen for that effortless smile?
Even the elderly Grand Duchess, who could hardly withstand it, frowned as if summoning her last strength.
“Grandmother, it seems I have concealed my identity from that young lady.”
The Grand Duchess, who had been listening intently, sank back onto the sofa in disbelief.
“What do you mean? How could you hide that you are the Crown Prince… Are you saying Minuet does not even know who the Crown Prince of her own country is?”
She is more cunning than you think, nearly rose to Onyx’s tongue.
“Even so, why would you hide your identity?”
Understanding her frustration, Onyx glanced toward the bustling garden and smiled.
“Who knows. Grandmother, it seems I’ve been bewitched lately.”
Among the many people gathered in the garden, Minuet, bathed in the warm spring sunlight, shone softly.
