If the Shut-In Lady Gets Exposed
Episode 3
That evening, after Shasha had visited my room, the topic of the Imperial Ball came up at dinner just as she had said it would.
I was already cornered. There was only one choice left for me. So I gave up.
Having little interest in fashion, I answered my brother’s question about the dress without much thought.
“The one I wore last year. It’s practically new, so why not?”
The idea that women go crazy over clothes, jewelry, and bags is just prejudice. And the idea that men don’t care about fashion is just as much of a stereotype.
It was actually Shasha who absolutely refused the idea.
Considering that my brother, unlike most men, enjoys romance novels, it’s clear he has above-average sensitivity. With his refined aesthetic sense, he was quite attuned to the latest trends in the capital.
“Are you joking? If you wear last year’s dress again, people will think the Roha Viscount’s family is broke.”
“I only wore it once! It’s basically new! And even if I buy another one, I won’t wear it again anyway.”
As I scratched my itchy ear with my fingernail, Father squeezed his eyes shut. A moment later, he declared firmly,
“Dear, call a dressmaker to the house. No matter the cost, we’ll have a fine dress made.”
“No! Father, I don’t need one! If you have that kind of money, just give me an allowance instead!”
“It’s not waste—it’s circulation of wealth! And an investment in my daughter.”
As if to signal that the discussion was over, Father shook his head stubbornly. Beside him, Shasha added with a satisfied expression,
“Mother, Madame Duoi’s salon is the most popular these days. Please contact her.”
The Roha Viscount’s family was wealthy. Compared to other noble houses, we may have lacked a bit in power, but financially we were comfortable.
Thanks to the promise of generous compensation, Madame Duoi postponed all her other appointments and visited our house early the next morning. Plump and dressed in a flamboyant gown, she looked every bit the master of fashion. She entered my room, took my measurements, and held various fabrics against me while chattering away.
I didn’t even understand all the names of the fabrics she mentioned, but she quickly found a wonderful conversation partner—my brother, Shasha Roha.
“My lady has such lovely skin that any dress would suit her. How about a brown dress to match her hair? It would give a nice mood.”
“What about burgundy instead? I heard it’s quite trendy among ladies these days.”
At Shasha’s response, Madame Duoi’s eyes widened. Covering her mouth as she laughed, she replied brightly,
“Oh my! Young master, you have quite the sense for fashion. Indeed, burgundy is an excellent choice. Ah, now that I think of it, I have just the perfect burgundy fabric for such fair skin.”
“And for jewelry, gold would look clean and elegant.”
“That’s quite bold and daring. Hehe. As you say, burgundy and gold complement each other well.”
“Excuse me, but I have no idea what you two are talking about.”
Burgundy this, gold that. Brown and that color looked all the same to me.
As their conversation showed no signs of ending, my mind began to drift. Finally, my patience ran out.
“How is that any different from the one I was going to wear?”
I rushed to the wardrobe and pulled out last year’s dress.
“Look. The color’s similar, and it looks basically the same.”
At my protest, Madame Duoi’s eyes widened again—this time for a completely different reason than before.
“My lady is quite… hmm… simple…? Unlike the young master.”
She searched for her words before finally speaking. Shasha shot me a mortified look.
“Look carefully. This one is more vivid, and that one is deeper.”
“Yes! Exactly! Vivid burgundy is already outdated. If you wore that to the ball? You might as well write ‘No Fashion Sense’ across your forehead.”
“Right. It’d be better to go naked than put her in that dress.”
“The young master is absolutely correct. Quite right indeed.”
As the two of them harmonized perfectly, I examined the dresses again.
No matter how I looked at them, they seemed practically identical. Their passionate debate over nearly the same color felt absurd.
Realizing this wouldn’t end anytime soon, I sighed heavily. Even if I lived as a shut-in warrior of the bedroom, I knew when to give up.
“Fine, fine. Then grant me one request.”
“What is it?”
“I get cold very easily. So I need a large shawl.”
“A shawl? That’s such a grandmother— I mean, elderly—item. Why would you need that?”
Madame Duoi looked skeptical. Shasha nodded in agreement.
“The trend is off-shoulder dresses. You’re the only one who wants to cover up with a shawl? What would you do without me?”
What would I do? Probably live extravagantly off the viscount’s fortune.
I stuck out my tongue at him and stated firmly,
“I don’t care about trends. If there’s no shawl, I won’t go to the ball. Make sure to prepare one.”
Madame Duoi looked at Shasha for approval. When he reluctantly nodded, she did the same.
Only then did I fully cooperate with their dress-up game. Otherwise, we might have stayed up all night over one dress.
The day before the ball, the dress and accessories arrived from Madame Duoi’s salon.
After several fittings, the final dress was undeniably beautiful—even to someone like me who felt little about fashion.
A burgundy off-shoulder gown. The color risked looking old-fashioned, but the thoughtful design made it appear sophisticated instead.
With puffed sleeves and gathered details at the chest, it flowed richly downward.
As Shasha had ordered, it suited me perfectly. Even my parents remarked that they should continue using Madame Duoi’s salon in the future.
That is—before I put on the shawl.
Because I had made such a fuss about being cold, the shawl was wide and thick.
It looked exactly like something a grandmother would wear while knitting with a cat in her lap.
The moment I draped it over myself, the chest details disappeared and the dress became ordinary.
Naturally, Shasha immediately complained.
“The shawl really doesn’t suit you.”
“Your brother’s right. Showing your shoulders is much prettier.”
“But the ballroom is freezing. I’ll catch a cold. I like the shawl. If you don’t let me wear it, I won’t go.”
The shawl was my trump card.
With that ultimatum, my family reluctantly agreed.
I returned to my room and happily began choosing a book.
“I can only bring one, so I must choose carefully.”
A thick hardcover would be hard to hide, so something thin and softcover would be better.
“Hmm. The Emperor of a Political Marriage Is Exactly My Type… too predictable.”
Pass.
“The Queen Marries Five Times? That one was a bit steamy. Better not risk getting caught.”
One must always consider the worst-case scenario. I praised myself for my wisdom.
Then a new book I had recently bought caught my eye. A thin, elegant volume with a black leather cover.
I picked it up slowly.
“The Demon Duke Is Obsessed With Me…”
The cheesier the romance novel, the more fun it is. An obsessive male lead was a classic trope—and my preference.
I nodded. It was perfect for hiding.
Standing before the mirror, I rolled up the book and tucked it into the bodice of my off-shoulder dress. Of course, hiding it in my chest wasn’t entirely invisible—but with the shawl? Completely different story.
“Oh! Perfect. This is it!”
I grinned.
An Imperial Ball is only exciting the first time. After that, it’s all the same. Popular people attract more attention; outsiders like me fade into the background.
My brother belonged to the former. I was clearly the latter—distinctly so.
“I’ll pretend to mingle around Shasha, then slip away quietly.”
There was only one good thing about the Imperial Ball.
The desserts were better than at home.
Finding a random room to lounge in and killing time was my specialty.
I felt slightly sorry for Shasha, but he had never once noticed me slipping away before.
This time would be no different.
With that thought, I curled my lips into a sly smile.
