Chapter 83
Cecilia was dumbfounded.
Judging by the situation, it seemed Hailey thought she had copied her dress.
As the daughter of the honorable Count of Mingcen, she could no longer endure such humiliation.
“If Lady Hailey’s dress color had really been leaked, then surely no one would’ve dared wear the same shade—just like with Lady Angelina!”
Cecilia’s argument made sense. If Hailey’s dress color had truly been leaked, the young ladies would have gone out of their way to avoid it.
Hailey was blessed with exceptional beauty, and the Marquis of Pier was from one of the most prestigious noble families.
What could anyone possibly gain from wearing the same color as her?
Lady Cecilia herself was upset that her dress was similar to Hailey’s, but there was nothing she could do.
After all, her favorite color was cobalt blue.
Hailey bit her lip, frustrated, because Cecilia’s words left her without a retort.
Lady Cecilia must have been deceived by Lady Liriana.
Could it be the two of them plotted this together to make a fool of me?
The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she barely held them back.
If she voiced them, her own reputation might suffer.
Even so, Hailey still believed Liriana and Cecilia had tricked her. What infuriated her most was that she had no proof.
“…I—I don’t think Lady Liriana would have leaked it, either…”
Lady Bertia, who had been gazing out the window at the line of carriages entering the Imperial City, spoke with a startled expression.
She was one of the young ladies who had earlier shouted at Liriana, asking how she could do such a thing.
Bertia blinked over and over, as if doubting her own eyes.
Hailey asked, “What on earth do you mean?”
“…Rather than explain, you should see for yourselves.”
When Lady Bertia pointed toward the window, everyone turned their eyes in unison.
The moment she stepped down from the carriage, Helene drew the gaze of every noble present.
Traditionally, guests invited to a debutante ball wore attire that was modest enough not to outshine the young ladies being presented.
But Helene was already a woman of dazzling, eye-catching beauty.
To think she could appear even more radiant than usual—and that such brilliance suited her so well—was a mystery in itself.
“Unbelievable. She’s supposedly of commoner birth—yet she doesn’t even know that she mustn’t outshine the debutantes?”
One noblewoman, draped in opals, spoke in disbelief.
“B-but… she really is beautiful…”
A young nobleman was so entranced by Helene that he completely lost himself.
Though they scolded her in whispers for being inconsiderate, none of the nobles could look away.
“…E-everyone’s staring at you.”
Blaine wanted to bite his tongue and die.
His wretched mouth never said what his heart wanted.
He had meant to say, beautiful or lovely, but the moment he looked at Helene, his speech failed him once again.
“I know. It’s too extravagant, isn’t it?”
Yet Helene showed no sign of shrinking back.
Smiling lightly, she reached out her hand, asking Blaine to escort her.
Summoning courage, Blaine presented her with a rose that Pael had prepared for him.
The deep red rose suited her perfectly.
“…Oh my.”
Breathing in the fragrance, Helene tucked the rose into her headband, as if it had been the missing piece all along.
Her hair, long and dark crimson, cascaded down her back even further than usual tonight.
Her exposed collarbones gleamed pale as jade, while a massive ruby necklace around her neck magnified the brilliance of her face.
Her dark red gown was embroidered with tiny rubies that glittered like stars, and the chiffon skirt spread like the petals of a rose.
She looked splendid enough to be mistaken for the true star of the debutante ball.
Beautiful—almost devilishly so, as if mimicking a goddess to ensnare mortals.
Guiding her hand, Blaine caught the faint curve of her lips and sensed she had a scheme in mind.
It was clear this ball would not pass without incident.
“…I-if Lady Liriana really had leaked the dress color, wouldn’t she have told her stepmother about Lady Angelina’s gown first?”
The noble girls pressed themselves against the window, peering at Helene.
Bertia was right.
Who would dare wear the same shade as Lady Angelina, the future empress—or at least the future grand duchess?
Only a fool devoid of sense would do such a thing.
“……”
“No matter what, surely Lady Liriana would’ve told her stepmother…”
Bertia’s voice grew softer, tinged with pity.
If Angelina was a newly-bloomed rose in a fresh, vibrant red, then Helene was a fully-opened crimson rose at its most fragrant.
Though their hues differed in saturation and brightness, their gowns shared the same off-shoulder cut and floor-length train.
Helene’s gown drew every eye in the hall.
With such a reception, when Lady Angelina later appeared, people would surely notice not her beauty first but rather how her gown resembled Helene’s.
Hailey, too, rushed to the window and looked out.
With every step Helene climbed, more nobles gathered to stare.
To outshine the debutantes at their own ball—her reputation would be in ruins.
But this was high society.
Even as they criticized Helene, they couldn’t help coveting her dress, her necklace, even her hairstyle.
Hailey was no different.
How could she dare…
If she herself had been Lady Angelina, she would never forgive Helene.
To showcase such a similar gown first at the once-in-a-lifetime debutante ball—Helene had practically invited Angelina’s eternal enmity.
Would she even be invited to the next social gathering?
And yet… Hailey felt a smile tug at her lips. She pressed them together to hold it back.
“…A-are you all right, Your Ladyship?”
The young ladies surrounded Lady Angelina anxiously.
Her face had hardened, but she quickly forced a smile again.
“…Well.”
“…What matters isn’t the color of my gown, but the fact that I am the one wearing it.”
Angelina was about to say more when Hailey suddenly interjected.
Hailey wanted to see.
Would the so-called “angel,” Lady Angelina, still be an angel when someone stole the attention that had always belonged only to her?
But this was dangerous. Angelina was not someone one could afford to make an enemy of.
How dare she interrupt her?
As Angelina’s stiff gaze turned on her, Hailey hurried to explain:
“…Ah! B-but Lady Angelina, didn’t you tell me that very thing before? Truly, Your Ladyship is in a class of your own!”
Bowing quickly, she rushed the words out.
The other young ladies followed her lead, parroting Hailey’s praise like little parrots.
Hailey carefully studied Angelina’s expression.
Sometimes, the “angel” was frightening.
“…Perhaps it’s best we prepare to head out now,” Angelina said, shifting the subject.
It seemed the guests had all arrived.
At last, it was time for the stars of the ball to make their entrance.
Led by Angelina and ending with Liriana, the debutantes lined up in the Crystal Hall.
They stood in a row to the music of the orchestra.
At the seat of honor sat the Emperor and the Grand Duchess.
Beside them sat the rarely-seen general and the chancellor, along with other distinguished figures of society.
Though people said the same thing every year, this debutante ball truly was extraordinary.
The angel of the Empire, Lady Angelina of the Duchy of Herbiente.
The devout young lady Liriana, famed for reforming her “red witch” stepmother.
And Lady Hailey of the illustrious Marquis of Pier.
The nobility was brimming with young women destined to shape society.
The guests eagerly awaited to see what impact they would have on the future.
The debutantes entered, forming a circle. They bowed to one another and began to dance.
Fortunately, none of the young ladies ignored or slighted anyone, easing the Grand Duchess’s earlier worries.
After the ritual of the debutantes concluded, it was time for introductions by name.
Since order was determined by rank, Lady Angelina stood at the front.
At the blare of a trumpet, the chatter ceased and all eyes turned to the grand staircase.
“Presenting Her Ladyship, Angelina Herbiente, daughter of the Duke of Herbiente!”
