CHAPTER 3
The designer summoned by the duke’s household worked with efficient precision. After quickly and accurately taking Isolette’s measurements, she sat down and began asking a string of questions. Did Isolette dislike any specific decorations? Had she ever worn clothing from their atelier?
“What about colors you don’t like?”
“…Aren’t you making it in black anyway?”
“Well, yes. But it’s still good to know.”
Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, the designer spoke with candid ease. She confessed that she’d really come to introduce herself to Isolette.
Did she know how many designers dreamed of dressing her? She asked it almost with frustration.
“Why don’t you commission your own clothing?”
The designer hinted that there likely wasn’t a single atelier in the capital that hadn’t thought of that possibility. It was a question Isolette had heard ever since becoming an actress. She smiled.
“The costumes provided by the troupe are good enough for me.”
“Seriously? Do you know how many designers want to see their work in Soleus just because of you?”
It didn’t seem like the designer had any plans to leave soon. Without being asked, she began talking at length, saying she’d never stayed this long at the duke’s residence before. She once saw the duchess when she was just an assistant, but after becoming a designer, she’d only worked on menswear.
“Personally, I prefer women’s clothing. There’s so much more you can do with it.”
Her name was Helen. She said she’d be delighted if Isolette remembered that, gazing at her with a look of pure awe.
It was a look that felt unfamiliar yet recognizable—something Isolette had seen from people who genuinely loved their craft.
“Isolette, even if you wore ready-to-wear, you’d still look different from everyone else. But from a designer’s perspective, it’s such a waste.”
Helen pouted a bit. The comment weighed on Isolette, and she offered a somewhat awkward smile. If she weren’t such a famous actress right now, Helen probably wouldn’t have spared her a second glance.
“I’d love to stay longer… but if I want to finish your outfit, I’d better go.”
With a face full of regret, Helen stood. Her assistant, still clearly a young apprentice, gave a shy bow.
“See you next time, Isolette.”
As Helen left, Anne approached. It seemed she’d had another maid wait outside to see the guests off. In a calm voice, she asked Isolette:
“She’s not usually that talkative. If she made you uncomfortable, should I say something before she returns next time?”
Helen had likely talked so much because of who she was facing. If it had been Julian or someone else of higher standing, she would’ve gauged the mood more carefully.
Isolette didn’t hold a noble title, so Helen had felt freer to speak her mind. Isolette shook her head.
“I don’t think I’ll see her again anyway.”
Who would’ve thought she’d have a funeral dress tailored at the Empire’s top atelier? Isolette let out a hollow laugh at the duke family’s extravagance.
Among those who remembered the old days, no one was unaware of the relationship between the late Duchess and Isolette.
“Don’t you think so?”
Anne didn’t respond to Isolette’s question.
But Isolette understood. Designers who dressed the high nobility were notoriously proud. It was practically unheard of for someone like her—a commoner—to be treated so warmly.
She thought back to Helen’s words.
Among actors, some had unique outfits made just for them, commissioned through private patrons. The quality of the clothes varied depending on the patron’s wealth.
Some designers even refused such work, so kindness like Helen’s always made Isolette a little uneasy.
Perhaps sensing this, Anne quickly changed the subject.
“The house feels a bit overwhelming right now. Would you like to take a walk in the garden?”
“The garden?”
“It might help calm your mind.”
With an invitation so considerate, there was no reason to refuse. Isolette rose from her seat. Anne followed with a light robe in hand.
Though only half a day had passed, the mansion was already steeped in mourning.
In contrast, the garden glowed. It had always been well-tended, but it truly came to life after the Duchess began taking personal interest in it.
Soaked in spring sunlight, the green was impossibly vivid, and the flowers bloomed without a trace of withering.
The breeze was sweet. Isolette stopped just before stepping into the garden.
Of all the gardens and flower beds she’d seen in her life, this was the most beautiful. The orange-tinted sunlight touched every corner, stirring old memories.
She remembered—back then, the garden hadn’t had nearly this many flowers.
Something must’ve sparked it. One day, workers were planting trees in a garden that had once been nothing but greenery. After that, the Duchess often spent her time there.
Even at a young age, Isolette could tell: those lilacs had been planted for someone specific.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
A soft voice fluttered behind her. Anne bowed slightly and stepped back as Julian’s aide arrived. Julian wore more relaxed clothes than the night before.
“My mother loved this place.”
He naturally stepped forward. One arm held the robe Anne had handed him earlier. Isolette hurried to catch up as the hem of the robe swayed with his steps.
“No one would know the trees were ever moved unless they were told.”
“The gardeners must’ve spent a lot of time here.”
“Not many people are left who even remember.”
He didn’t just mean the former staff. Isolette looked at him as he toyed with a rose in passing, gently brushing its petals.
He straightened his back and looked at her. Julian tilted his head slightly, as if trying to assess something from his new height.
“I’ll have to revise our order with Lusimont.”
“…What?”
“I thought we had enough casual clothes left from Leila, but I guess not. It’s short notice, but it’s better than having you wear ill-fitting clothes.”
So the clothes she’d been wearing belonged to Leila, the youngest lady of the house who was currently away. Julian looked ready to send someone to the atelier immediately.
Isolette rolled her eyes slightly.
There was no need to go that far. The fit was loose, but not unwearable. And if it really became a problem, she could just run home briefly.
Julian saw the expression on her face and let out a low chuckle.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
“In what way?”
His clear eyes curved gently. His tone was hard to read, but he looked amused.
He stepped closer. With the sun behind him, it looked as though he was cloaked in light.
The scent and glow that filled the space around her made Isolette dizzy for a moment. Standing before her, Julian softly whispered,
“It’s no fun if you say it outright.”
Then he draped the robe over her shoulders.
“The sun hasn’t set yet, but if you’re not careful, you’ll catch a cold.”
His movement was gentle.
“Do you like the garden?”
Isolette nodded. It was so beautiful, anyone would admit it. But whether it would stay this way was another question. Julian was now the master of the house, and everything would be rearranged according to his vision.
“Will you leave it as it is?”
“…We’ll see.”
His answer was vague.
Isolette stepped forward first. To see the lilacs she’d glimpsed through the window, she had to go deeper into the garden. Julian seemed to realize where she was headed and followed at a leisurely pace.
Inside, lilacs bloomed in full glory. To the unknowing eye, it would look like they’d always been there in clusters.
“…Would it be alright if I took some after the funeral?”
“Lilacs?”
“Yes. Even just one bloom would be fine.”
Now that the Duchess was gone, Isolette didn’t think she’d have a reason to return here again. And since everything felt like it could vanish at any moment, she wanted to take something—even if it withered. It was a comfort for the emptiness she hadn’t yet resolved.
Julian looked between the lilacs and Isolette.
“If it means something to you, then yes.”
The day after they sent obituary notices to the other noble houses, the front page of every newspaper was plastered with headlines about the Duchess’s death. The content was all similar. They recounted her life, but every article inevitably ended with something about Julian.
Some papers expressed doubt about the young Duke, while others speculated which lady would link arms with him next.
“Any interesting articles?”
Isolette tried to think of something that might catch Julian’s interest but came up blank. She didn’t know exactly what he liked.
“I’m not sure what you’d find interesting. But I imagine you could’ve predicted all of it.”
“Then I guess there’s no need to read the papers today.”
The reason for the stack of newspapers was that this was Julian’s study. Someone from the theater troupe had come in person to deliver their reply—which had been quite overwhelming. Then Julian had invited her to tea, offering an hour in exchange for the trouble.
Though it turned out to be more of a tea tasting session than an actual tea party, it didn’t matter. This might be the least expensive price Isolette could offer in return for receiving the troupe’s letter from the future Duke himself.
“I didn’t know you were involved in the tea business.”
“It’s more like indirect investment. Food-related ventures are risky unless your target clientele is thoroughly vetted.”
He carefully documented his final thoughts on the tea. Sensing there’d be no more tasting, a servant neatly cleared the table and left.
“Which one did you like best?”
Isolette hesitated. She felt she needed to answer cautiously. Conversations with nobles were never easy.
Julian smiled as he waited.
“It wasn’t meant to be a difficult question.”
“Which one did you like?”
“You don’t have to follow my lead. What gets distributed isn’t about my preferences—it’s about the product’s value.”
The higher the rank, the earlier they were trained to assess value. Isolette had heard something similar in passing from the Duchess.
Not just about size, but what kind of cut, what kind of craftsmanship made a gem truly good. How much padding gave a dress its ideal silhouette.
To rule something, one must know how to lead desire. That was the foundation of their long-standing education.
Julian gently urged her again.
“I’m just curious. Who knows? If your judgment is good enough, it might be the one I choose.”
He had a remarkable ability to charm. And yet, it was always she who ended up paying for believing in his words.
