Chapter 29
I brushed my hair back and said,
“You don’t have to make things up just to comfort me.”
“Aw, come on, have you been getting fooled all your life or what? I’m serious. Of all the captains I’ve ever seen, you’re the sleekest and sharpest one!”
“What on earth does that even mean?”
Sleek and sharp? Make up your mind. Either it’s sleek or it’s sharp.
Besides, Cerulean hardly ever shows emotion—how could anyone claim he’s smitten? The Cerulean I know isn’t the type to fall head over heels for anyone!
While I was internally scoffing, Kalima clenched her fist and cheered me on.
“The Captain really likes you, Madam. So hold your head high! In love, the one who loves more always loses anyway!”
“That’s actually not true, Kalima. In fact…”
In our relationship, the one losing was—
“…Huh?”
I froze mid-sentence. It suddenly felt like I had opened a door that should’ve stayed shut.
I shook my head quickly, trying to scatter my uneasy thoughts. Just then, Kalima fiddled with a box and asked,
“By the way, what’s this box?”
“A wedding dress, apparently.”
“Ahh, that dress she practically shoved on you after barging into the boutique?”
Kalima narrowed her eyes, both hands gripping the lid.
“Suspicious, isn’t it?”
“Extremely.”
“I’ll open it first.”
As Kalima lifted the lid, I couldn’t help imagining the box exploding—boom!—or a red boxing glove springing out.
But inside was simply… a dress.
Oh. That actually looks quite elegant.
A wide, bell-line gown with a deep neckline and large floral embellishments—very much the style of an earlier generation. Yet, somehow still timeless and graceful enough for today.
As expected of something from the Imperial wardrobe!
It was too beautiful to believe it was meant to humiliate me. Kalima inspected every inch carefully, then shrugged.
“Looks fine from the outside. No hidden needles or anything.”
“Ugh.”
Needles—now that’s a thought I didn’t need.
Do I really have to live worrying about things like that now?
But honestly, it was possible. Kalima smiled brightly.
“Well, let’s try it on, shall we?”
It was meant to be worn at the ceremony, so I had to at least see it on. I slipped my arms into the sleeves.
The dress wasn’t bad. In fact—it was objectively beautiful.
But when Kalima saw me, her face twisted like a wilted zucchini.
“…So you have to wear this particular dress?”
“Yes.”
Her face darkened even more.
“That’s some high-level passive aggression.”
“Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
Because honestly, when I first saw myself in the mirror, I thought, is this a new form of torture?
Even so, it was hard to be sure—it was such an elaborate kind of torment.
The dress looked like something out of a fairy garden—lively and flowery.
The problem was, it looked nothing like me.
The bust was too loose, the sleeveless design left my arms fully exposed, and the abundance of flowers made my shoulders look impossibly broad.
And worst of all—
“This length is so awkward, it makes you look shorter.”
“Well, Madam, you are taller than most.”
Apparently, Vanerinne was over ten centimeters shorter than me. The hem that should’ve swept the floor barely covered my ankles.
Kalima rested her chin on her hand and muttered,
“Where do you even find a dress that mismatched? That takes real talent.”
“I know, right.”
I gave a weak laugh—there was really nothing else to say.
Looking down at the dress again made me sigh, but I pulled it off briskly and started getting dressed again.
“Anyway, nothing’s going to fix this today. Let’s go eat something delicious and rest. I’m craving the cream tea from that café nearby.”
“I’m in!”
Because, really, sugar fixes all headaches. Kalima eagerly followed behind me.
The café we always went to was small and shabby, but the food was still great.
After finishing our tea and a plate of warm scones, we sat in a nearby park. Lazy pigeons who hadn’t gone to roost yet fluttered around our feet.
Kalima watched them curiously.
“It’s so peaceful around here.”
“Right? It’s my hometown. I’ve never lived anywhere else.”
I gazed fondly at the street bordering the park.
“When my mom was alive, I used to think this scenery was boring. Every weekend morning, we’d have brunch at that café and feed the pigeons leftover bread from this bench.”
“She sounds like a wonderful mother.”
“She was.”
I nodded firmly. My mother wasn’t just kind—she was beautiful too, with delicate shoulders and a pretty face. Suitors never stopped coming.
As I reminisced, Kalima murmured quietly, looking at me sideways.
“And a child raised by such a good mother goes on to capture the heart of Cerulean Luc—”
“Aah! I told you, it’s not like that!”
Why did we always circle back to him? I screamed, covering my ears.
Kalima scolded me with a mock-stern face.
“Madam, you’re about to be married. Why do you react like that every time your husband is mentioned? This isn’t very fitting for someone who once wrote explicit columns about married life, you know—like journalist Edel Azian.”
“Wow, that was exactly like my old editor.”
To be fair, I only wrote those columns because my editor begged me to, over and over.
Kalima tilted her head.
“Still, for someone who gets that flustered, you managed to become a gossip journalist—and a famous one, at that.”
“I wouldn’t say famous…”
“Oh please. Some people subscribe to The Newcastle Times just because of you.”
“Thank you, dear reader.”
I bowed politely in thanks.
“People say hobbies and jobs are different, but in my case, I got early training. My mom used to tell me endless stories about my dad.”
“So your father was quite the gossip-worthy character, then.”
“Embarrassingly, yes.”
I scratched my cheek awkwardly. In short—
“The kind of guy who says, ‘Let’s break up,’ when he hears his girlfriend’s pregnant?”
“…What?”
“And when asked if he really won’t take responsibility, says he doesn’t want to?”
That was my dad.
Kalima gasped in genuine awe.
“Wow. That’s the kind of guy they write marriage advice columns about.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I nodded.
“So my mom decided she was better off without him.”
“I see…”
I told it lightly, but it was a heavy story. I shrugged.
“Still, I do wonder what kind of person he was. For all I know, he could be somewhere close by.”
Mom had often talked about his personality, but never his name, face, or any identifying detail. He could’ve lived next door and I’d never know.
I smiled softly.
“If Dad were around, I probably wouldn’t have ended up in this contract marriage with Cerulean. So, my current concern should be what to do with that expensive, gorgeous, totally unsuitable dress.”
“Ahh, back to reality.”
Kalima buried her face in her hands, then let out a small laugh.
“You know, I actually wasn’t sure before. I wondered if the Duchess of Luc was really trying to sabotage the wedding.”
“I get it.”
Vanerinne’s public persona was flawless. If I hadn’t been directly involved, I’d never have known what she was really like.
Kalima rubbed her chin, looking serious.
“But after seeing that dress, I’m convinced. She’s no ordinary woman—she’s a villain.”
Considering how badly that dress suited me, I couldn’t blame her for saying that. And since it came from the Imperial collection, refusing it wasn’t even an option.
Back then, I thought she’d come to the boutique in a rush, but maybe that was calculated too—so I couldn’t reject her offer in public.
The thought made me shiver. I rubbed my face in frustration.
“It’s such a delicate situation that I can’t even write about it. She always strikes first. And who knows what she’s planning for the ceremony itself.”
“Ideally, I’d stay by your side twenty-four hours a day.”
Kalima sighed.
“But it’s tricky. I’d have to disguise myself to get into the Luc estate.”
“Huh? Why? Don’t tell me you’re a fugitive?”
Was she some wanted criminal hiding her face?! I asked in alarm, but Kalima burst out laughing.
“I told you, I’m just a mercenary. But I used to be pretty famous when I was a knight—someone might recognize me.”
“Because of your skill?”
“No, because I was a troublemaker.”
“…”
So, a notorious troublemaker. That tracked.
Kalima sighed again.
“If the dress were too long, we could just shorten it. But since it’s too short, we’ll have to add fabric—and no matter how good the tailor, it’ll show. What a nasty trick.”
Her grumbled words made my eyes widen.
“Wait—Kalima, what did you just say?”
“That if it were long, we could cut it, but—”
“That’s it.”
“What?”
I grinned brightly.
“That’s exactly it—the way to fix that disastrous dress.”
