Chapter 36
After a while, when she finally stood in front of Franz—so timid and hesitant—Eiela felt dizzy, as if she might faint. All she could do was hope he would quickly say, “Next.” and release her from this unbearable moment.
Bathed in brilliant sunlight, Eiela shone dazzlingly. Each breath she drew made her full chest, bound by her dress, rise and fall in a steady rhythm. The way the tight fabric pressed and released made the motion look even more provocative, almost shocking in its subtle sensuality.
Franz never took his eyes off her. He silently lifted his teacup and took a sip.
The sun blazed; the silence weighed heavily. Time trickled by with infuriating slowness. Madame Dupont glanced at Franz, her expression faintly worried.
Does he not like this kind of style? No… that can’t be. But he isn’t showing a single reaction. Ugh, what a difficult man to read.
Still, it was her duty, so Madame Dupont forced a cheerful smile and said brightly:
“My, my, doesn’t she look splendid in everything? I must say, I’m astonished myself. This particular dress is one I poured my heart into—there’s only one in the whole world. At last, it has found its true owner. Ho ho ho.”
Franz set his cup down again, having barely touched it, and looked at her.
“That’s enough. How many are left?”
“Two dresses remain.”
“Include those.”
The words came so calmly, so casually, that Madame Dupont froze for a beat. Then, realizing what he meant, her lips twitched with barely contained glee. She almost grinned from ear to ear, but quickly composed herself.
“Yes. Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Good. You’ve done well.”
Franz rose from his chair, fastening the buttons of the jacket he’d left undone. As if remembering something, he added:
“Ah. And also prepare comfortable clothes, shoes, handbags, and accessories to go with them—all of it.”
He looked at her as if to say, You understand me, don’t you?
Madame Dupont bowed deeply.
“Understood.”
She followed with a formal word of thanks.
At last, realization dawned on Eiela. Eyes wide, she turned to Franz, just as his gaze met hers.
“…”
Eiela couldn’t speak. The prince’s eyes were fixed solely on her.
“Go change.”
“…Yes.”
After a long hesitation, she finally whispered an answer. Franz turned at once and left the parlor. She could only stare at his retreating figure, unable to call out.
When the door closed, she let out a tangled sigh. She didn’t even know what expression she wore, what emotion surged within her—it was confusing.
“Shall we try the next outfit then?”
Madame Dupont’s voice snapped her out of her daze. Eiela nodded.
“Yes.”
Madame Dupont cast a glance at the two dresses left unworn. She lingered wistfully on the revealing, daring gown, but quickly dismissed the thought. Pointless—it was unnecessary.
The prince had shown no change in expression from start to finish, which was vexing… yet if he bought all of these dresses, she had no right to complain. Her instincts had been correct.
Honestly, His Highness is too much. What’s so hard about saying “beautiful” if it’s beautiful, or “I like it” if he does? Slippery as an eel, that one. Ho ho ho.
Grinning to herself, she selected several dresses suitable for both indoor lounging and outings. She transferred them to another rack, then hurried to put one on Eiela.
The muslin dress, thin and slightly sheer, draped softly over her figure. Its gentle silhouette enhanced her elegance and femininity.
“…”
For a long time, Eiela simply gazed into the mirror.
The deep neckline revealed the whiteness of her throat, drawing the eye—but thankfully ruffles trimmed the edge, softening the exposure.
The layered skirt, gathered with fine pleats, gave her waist a more slender emphasis. Puff sleeves cinched at the middle with ribbons added charm, like a bow around her waist. Even she had to admit—it looked lovely.
“Any discomfort?” Madame Dupont asked.
Eiela smiled faintly at her reflection.
“No. Strangely enough, it feels very comfortable.”
It was more ornate than her usual outdoor wear, but it didn’t restrict her. She could move with ease, and the oppressive tightness across her chest was gone.
She had always thought glamorous clothes were synonymous with discomfort, but the dresses she’d worn today proved otherwise.
“Now, shall we try shoes?”
Madame Dupont quickly selected pairs that matched. Eiela’s eyes lit up at a pair of pearl-colored shoes gleaming nearby. Drawn to them, she walked over, and Madame Dupont, perceptive as ever, slipped them onto her feet. They fit her petite feet perfectly.
“Oh my! A flawless fit.”
Eiela looked down, smiling softly.
“They’re beautiful.”
Her lips curved with genuine delight, a glow of anticipation brightening her face. The smile struck Madame Dupont like lightning.
No matter how proud other women were of their looks, before this girl they would seem ordinary. Eiela seemed touched by a mysterious vitality, an otherworldly beauty. Her porcelain skin gleamed in the sunlight, so bright it almost blinded one’s judgment. But perhaps it was not illusion—perhaps it was simply her natural radiance.
Madame Dupont, though dying to know what future awaited these two, reminded herself: she was a merchant, not a gossip.
“Now you look truly alive, my dear. Too much greed can ruin a person—but a life without any desire at all is also no good. You may think beauty is meaningless, not worth the effort. But life doesn’t work that way. Cultivating one’s natural charm is important.”
Her tone softened, coaxing.
“In the end, appearance is part of who you are. A wise woman never neglects it. The question is—will you place your precious self in a beautiful jewel box, or toss her into a common paper bag? The answer lies in your heart.”
Something stirred deep inside Eiela. An unnameable ripple that told her—yes, she wanted to be the best woman, better than any other.
“This is my heartfelt advice. Please don’t forget it. And if you ever need more, come to me anytime.”
Eiela’s eyes shone as she looked at her. That gaze belonged to someone who had just realized something important about life.
Eiela then stood admiring the view of the grand fountain before the palace, its cascading waters flowing down into channels that wound through the gardens. Everywhere, green leaves glistened in the sun.
“Mr. Murray, this place—Grenville—it feels unreal. If heaven exists, surely it must look like this. It’s so beautiful.”
Her eyes sparkled with childlike wonder. Murray, seeing her delight, couldn’t help but smile.
“Ha ha. Grenville is one of His Majesty the King’s favorite summer palaces.”
“Oh, truly? I see. Then… that large statue in the fountain—is it King George I? I recall in history class he was famed for his naval victories.”
Indeed, George I had once been the rightful owner of Grenville.
“Ha ha ha, close—but no. That’s Poseidon, god of the sea. The fountain was commissioned by King George I after his victories, to celebrate the unification of the continent. We take pride in it—the jets of water rise higher than any other fountain.”
Eiela nodded in agreement, impressed.
“It certainly looks that way. The gardens alone are vast and stunning—there must be countless sights beyond this.”
“To see all of Grenville would take a full week. You should enjoy it slowly with His Highness.”
“But the prince must be so busy…”
Her face fell slightly, and Murray smiled faintly. He liked her far better like this—so openly expressive—than with her usual reserved demeanor.
“Then ask his permission.”
“Do you think he’ll grant it?”
“Of course. As you know, His Highness is a generous man.”
Generous—when he wishes to be, Murray thought, but kept it to himself.
“Yes, that’s true,” she agreed, smiling at him.
“That’s a relief,” he murmured under his breath.
Guided by Murray, she walked toward a pergola in the garden. Hanging thick with clusters of wisteria blossoms, it looked like a picture come alive.
And seated within, absorbed in a book, was Franz.
As she drew near, he sensed her presence, lifted his head, and stared. His half-lidded gaze traveled over her without haste, yet with such weight that she felt it.
Under that silent inspection, Eiela spun lightly on her heel, making a full turn. The wide skirt flared, floating and fluttering before settling gently again in the breeze.
“You…”
The look in his eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing?
She only shrugged her shoulders.
“Well? How is it?”
“Not a waste of money.”
Franz spoke plainly.
His tone was light, almost teasing, yet she knew he meant it. And with that, Ella’s heart eased.
