Episode 9
“Haah.”
Dahlia, who had been resting her chin on her hand while gazing at the garden, let out a small sigh.
Her cheeks were flushed red, like a perfectly ripened peach.
‘Me… getting married?’
A crumbling manor, no dowry to speak of, a household full of dependents with no particular talents, and herself—someone completely excluded from high society.
She had never once seriously imagined that she would marry.
The increasingly chilly autumn breeze slipped in and out of her chest like it was hollow, leaving her feeling strangely unsettled.
Her gaze slowly drifted across the trees painted in shades of red and gold.
Come to think of it, the Harvest Festival would soon begin.
At this time of year, she would usually be overwhelmed with research work—but she had never imagined she would be troubled by something far more distracting than her studies.
Dahlia simply spent her time idly staring out the open window at the garden, letting boredom pass her by.
“Dahlia.”
Just then, knock knock, Leonel entered the room.
“Aren’t you bored?”
“I’m not… bored…”
“A few days from now, there will be a party to announce the start of the Harvest Festival.”
He handed her an invitation. The sender was Princess Arabella.
Dahlia raised one eyebrow and let out a faint laugh.
She didn’t even need to think to guess what this was about.
She hadn’t been active in social circles lately—not even stepping outside—so it was obvious rumors had begun to spread.
And since her research had also made no progress, this was clearly meant to mock her again—imagining her standing against a wall in some outdated dress.
“Princess Arabella seems to be very fond of you?”
“What?”
Dahlia blinked rapidly, wondering if she had misheard.
“Every time an invitation comes from the Imperial Palace, isn’t it always personally written by Her Highness? The Harvest Festival party invites all nobles, yes, but it’s rare for nobles to receive a personally written invitation from royalty.”
“…Haah.”
Frustration welled up, and a sarcastic remark slipped through Dahlia’s lips.
“How kind of her.”
In high society, Princess Arabella was known as a beautiful royal figure. But Dahlia—who had always been top of her class at the academy—could easily tell just from conversation.
Arabella was exceptionally intelligent. Brilliant, even, across many fields, with an excellent memory. However, there was a reason she could not openly display her abilities: the Imperial Empire still clung stubbornly to deep-rooted gender discrimination.
‘But of all people… she only acts like that toward me.’
Suppressing a sigh, Dahlia shook her head.
“What are you talking about?”
Leonel tilted his head slightly, genuinely confused.
That innocent expression only made her irritation grow.
“You really don’t know anything.”
“About what?”
“Forget it.”
How could a man possibly understand the subtle power struggles between women in high society?
Rather than explaining further, she changed the subject.
“And what good is an invitation anyway? I can’t even go.”
She gently rested a hand on her slightly protruding stomach.
It wasn’t very noticeable yet, given the early months, but with her naturally slim frame—and the sharp eyes of noblewomen—it would not go unnoticed.
“Someone’s bound to realize something’s different about my body.”
“That’s why.”
Leonel cleared his throat, then slowly brought something out from behind his back.
The moment she saw it, Dahlia’s eyes widened in shock.
It was a corset—heavily decorated with lace, and uncomfortably suggestive in design.
“…Are you insane, Lancaster?”
To present a pregnant woman with a corset—and such an indecent one at that!
Dahlia suppressed the urge to swear and glared at him.
“Is this your taste now?”
She pinched it between her fingers as if it were something filthy. Looking closer only made it more embarrassing. Her face gradually turned red.
“…Calm down, Dahlia.”
Leonel, also flushed red, quickly tried to explain.
“This isn’t just any corset.”
“It’s still a corset.”
“It’s extremely rare.”
“…Yes, I’m sure it’s rare to you.”
“No, that’s not what I meant!”
Seeing her eyes narrow, he finally gave up and demonstrated.
“Look.”
He stretched the corset outward.
“Huh?”
Dahlia stared blankly as the corset stretched like melted mozzarella cheese.
“…What is this?”
Normally, corsets were stiff garments reinforced with whale bone-like structures to slim the waist. A soft, stretchable corset completely defeated its purpose.
She tilted her head and cautiously took it from him. It was lighter than a feather.
“I told you. There won’t be a problem even at the wedding.”
Leonel smiled and helped her to her feet.
“Rosine.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Help Dahlia put this corset on.”
“P-pardon? A corset?”
Rosine’s eyes widened as she entered the room.
“Just try it on first.”
“…Understood.”
Though it made no sense to put a corset on a pregnant woman, she could not disobey a ducal order. Reluctantly, she took it.
“I’ll wait outside.”
Leonel gave a small, knowing smile and left the room.
Once the door closed, Rosine, still skeptical, helped Dahlia remove her dress.
“I’ll help you put it on, my lady.”
“Alright…”
Dahlia herself remained suspicious.
She carefully lifted the corset. Unlike ordinary ones, it felt soft and light.
But it was still a corset.
‘This can’t be good for the baby.’
Rosine began tightening the strings at her back.
“Huh?”
Strangely, there was no sensation of pressure at all.
Dahlia blinked rapidly and looked at herself in the mirror.
Her figure looked neatly slim, with no bulging areas—but there was absolutely no discomfort around her waist or abdomen.
“…What is this?”
She quickly put her chemise dress back on top and rushed to the door, opening it abruptly.
“What is going on?”
Her eyes locked onto Leonel, who was waiting outside.
He looked entirely satisfied, as if he had expected this reaction.
“I commissioned it from the Magic Tower. It’s a specially crafted corset. It has enchantments that make you look non-pregnant on the outside while ensuring neither you nor the baby feel any discomfort.”
“Magic…?”
Dahlia covered her mouth in shock.
Magic was an extremely rare resource, even among nobles. With only about a hundred known mages in the Empire, that was hardly surprising.
To commission a custom enchanted item from them meant an enormous amount of money had been spent.
‘All this… just to hide a belly?’
She let out an incredulous laugh.
But Leonel looked completely unbothered.
“To be honest, I don’t care if people know. But you do.”
Although he always spoke casually, Dahlia was someone who deeply cared about how others saw her—and was easily wounded by it.
And he was the one who understood her best.
“We’ll prepare a dress too. Just wait a little.”
“If I suddenly wear a different style, people will get suspicious.”
“You still have that birthday dress I gave you. Everyone in high society knows we’ve been friends since childhood. It won’t be strange.”
At that moment, Dahlia’s eyelashes trembled.
She looked up at him in surprise.
“So it was still there… I thought it might’ve been sold, but it was hanging neatly in the wardrobe.”
Leonel stepped closer, a teasing smile forming on his lips.
“After all, you liked it, didn’t you?”
She should have answered—but her voice wouldn’t come out.
His smiling lips were the only thing she could focus on.
“I like that expression.”
He gently lifted her chin.
Almost instinctively, Dahlia followed the long, pale fingers that guided her closer.
Their bodies drew near, as if they might share a kiss at any moment.
Feeling his breath so close, Dahlia closed her eyes slowly.
It wasn’t her first kiss—but her heart still pounded as if it were new.
And just as their lips were about to meet completely—
