Chapter 32
“A Dress Too Bright”
Despite my frustration, my lips refused to cooperate — they moved of their own accord, spilling out words like a leaky faucet.
“Um, yesterday the Duchess sent over the wedding dress. I also practiced the waltz with Cerulean. But I was so bad that we ended up just doing the Patty-Cake Polka instead. Oh, right, that’s when we greeted each other, didn’t we? Ah, I’m just repeating things you already know.”
The words came tumbling out without order, a jumbled mix of thoughts and chatter.
Ah, I’m rambling. How humiliating.
Edel Azhian, the sharp, composed journalist — wasn’t someone who rambled. And yet, here I was.
The Duke crossed his arms, listening silently — attentively, even. Then, he spoke a single word.
“Patty-Cake Polka?”
“Yes. The one children dance in the street, you know? Facing each other like this.”
“I don’t recall.”
“Pardon?”
The Duke stared at me quietly, arms still crossed. A bead of cold sweat slid down my back.
He’s not… asking me to dance, is he?
What is this man? I take it back — he’s nothing like Cerulean. He’s twice as hard to deal with!
Luckily, before I had to stand up and dance out of sheer awkwardness, the Duke turned away and muttered,
“Well, I’m sure you learned properly enough. Cerulean handles things neatly.”
Then why did you look at me like that?
I squinted at him, and he — sensing my gaze somehow — added under his breath,
“…I just can’t picture you dancing.”
Fair point. Even I couldn’t imagine someone as elegant and composed as Cerulean doing something as silly as the Patty-Cake Polka.
“But he was so good at it! Like someone who’d known it forever!”
I flailed my hands as I spoke quickly, praising Cerulean like a fan at a concert. Finally, the Duke gave me a sideways glance and said flatly,
“I didn’t ask.”
“…Right.”
This conversation was going nowhere. I gulped down my café au lait in frustration.
The more we talk, the less I understand. What’s going through his head? What does he even want to talk about?
I hadn’t expected to have a one-on-one conversation with the Duke in the first place.
It’d be so much easier if Cerulean were here.
As I fiddled with my fingers, lost in thought, he suddenly spoke.
“Finished your drink?”
“Huh? Oh—yes.”
Because you made me so tense I downed it in one gulp, that’s why.
He stood abruptly.
“If you’ve got time, follow me.”
“Eh? Where to…?”
Where on earth are we going?
He didn’t answer — just started walking. I had no choice but to follow.
The place he took me to was the same boutique Cerulean and I had visited before.
The boutique’s madame froze, eyes wide like she’d just seen a ghost.
“…My goodness. Is that truly His Grace, the Duke of Luke, before me?”
True to his reputation as a man indifferent to the world, the Duke didn’t respond, simply stood there, aloof.
I felt like a secretary trying to smooth things over. Smiling awkwardly, I said, “Yes, that’s him, Madame.”
“Oh my! And you’ve come with your daughter-in-law!”
Daughter-in-law?!
I froze at the unfamiliar title. The madame, however, was a professional. Unlike me, she recovered quickly, smiling warmly.
“So then, what brings you in today, Your Grace?”
Only one person here hadn’t lost his composure — the Duke. He nodded toward the displays.
“What else does one do in a boutique? Show us some dresses.”
“Ah, of course. One moment, please.”
If it were me, I’d be panicking. But she nodded knowingly.
I tugged on the Duke’s sleeve, whispering, “Wait—if this is for me, I don’t need any more clothes! Cerulean already bought plenty.”
Why drag me here without saying a word?!
The Duke looked down at my hand clutching his coat. Then, with a light flick, he freed himself and said only one thing:
“Yellow.”
Honestly, he was a man who only said what he wanted to say.
I just gaped at him, speechless, as the madame smiled brightly and ushered me inside.
“Right this way, Madam Daughter-in-law.”
That word — daughter-in-law — still felt so foreign.
Being pushed inside, I whispered, “Are you sure this is a good idea? You don’t even know what he wants.”
It’s not easy to read a customer who walks in unannounced demanding dresses!
But the madame looked fired up.
“Even if it’s difficult, it’s worth it! To have the Duke of Luke as a client — this is priceless publicity!”
“Ah.”
That made my eyes light up too.
Now that I think about it, this is a chance for me, too!
The “Cerulean Luke romance” headline was getting stale anyway. But “The Duke of Luke visits boutique with daughter-in-law” — that’s fresh!
‘A broad-minded father-in-law who treats her like a true daughter, even accompanying her to the boutique!’
Meanwhile, the Duchess’s absence from the dinner would look all the pettier by contrast.
Yes. This could work. This kind of story sells itself.
Unlike Cerulean, who was often in gossip columns for his looks and tragic background, the Duke was practically a mystery to the public.
Even a small detail about his preferences could cause a stir — and this, this was far juicier than a “small detail.”
Alright. Let’s make this count.
Just as I was burning with journalistic zeal, the madame shut the door behind me and sighed deeply.
“Compared to the last dress, this is nothing. The Duke doesn’t seem like a difficult client at all.”
“The last dress?”
Surely she didn’t mean the light green gown I’d worn?
The madame’s face paled as she recalled it.
“He couldn’t tolerate even the tiniest detail being wrong. Said the ribbon shade was slightly off — made us rip it off and re-sew it right there…”
“What?! Really?”
“In front of His Lordship, no less. My hands trembled, my heart pounded… It was no small ordeal.”
Late at night, alone with a man like Cerulean — yes, I could imagine the pressure.
I looked at her with sympathy, and she solemnly placed a hand over her chest.
“But I emerged a better seamstress for it. I have no regrets.”
“Well, I’m glad it was a happy ending.”
Apparently, she’d transcended to some new plane of craftsmanship through trauma.
That reminded me of something. I leaned closer, lowering my voice.
“Do you also sell boutonnieres here?”
“Of course! You can show me your design or choose from our premade ones.”
“Perfect. I’ll pick from the ready-made ones — I’m hopeless at design.”
A boutonniere was an accessory for a man’s tuxedo — and if I couldn’t even choose my own clothes, designing one was out of the question.
I picked through the box she brought out, finally choosing two after a long while — there were so many pretty ones.
“These two, please.”
After much deliberation, I found ones I loved. The madame narrowed her eyes with a knowing smile.
“What a sweet couple you two must be.”
Where did that come from?
I blinked, confused, as she cheerfully ushered me toward the fitting area.
“Now then, let’s try on what I’ve coordinated! I can’t wait to see His Grace’s satisfied smile.”
That seemed… unlikely. Still, I hoped for some reaction as I changed.
In hindsight, no reaction would’ve been better.
Eager to meet his one requirement — yellow — the madame dressed me in a bright sunflower skirt with a checked top. Cheerful, like I was off to a picnic. Admittedly, it suited my tall frame perfectly.
“Wow, Madame, I really like this! Skirts usually get tangled around my legs, but this one feels so light!”
“Oh ho ho, I’m glad to hear it.”
Both of us assumed that if I liked it, surely the Duke would too.
But oh, how wrong we were.
The moment he saw me, his face twisted in displeasure.
“…Trivial.”
“Pardon?”
Before I could even ask what he meant, he turned on his heel and strode off. His broad back quickly disappeared from view.
Panicking, I fumbled for my purse.
“W-wait! The bill—”
“His Grace has already paid,” the madame said.
“What?”
He paid — but left looking that annoyed?
He doesn’t even seem like the type to care about women’s clothes, so what did he dislike?
I rushed outside after him, ready to ask — but—
“…Gone?”
Just like before, he had vanished into thin air. All that remained was the paper box with my old outfit inside, crumpled in my hand.
“What the heck? Is he toying with me?”
“Maybe he just wanted to buy you something that suits you.”
“Ah! You scared me!”
I yelped, clutching my chest. There stood Kalima, smiling serenely.
“Where have you been?! I could’ve used your help ages ago!”
“Ahaha, sorry! I just… froze when I saw His Grace.”
Before I could scold her further, she took the box from me with an easy smile.
“Wow, that outfit really suits you. It’s lively and fresh — even looks refined enough to pair with yellow sapphires.”
“Right? I couldn’t believe it was just from the display! …Wait, no, that’s not the point here.”
I did love the outfit. Too bad the Duke apparently hated it. I brushed my hair back with a sigh.
“The Duke said it looked trivial. Clearly not his taste.”
