CHAPTER 39
The doctors bowed their heads in apology, and Damian gritted his teeth and lifted his chin. His profile—tears struggling to emerge as he stared at the skylight—was absurdly solemn.
“Ah…”
“Guh…!”
Louisa sighed softly, and Damian drew a sharp breath.
The preparations for the banquet had begun. Ideally, they would have started as soon as the invitation arrived, but for Louisa—who had been quite busy in the north—the schedule was intense.
Partly because there was no suitable designer in the region, and partly by design.
Wealthy noble families usually had famous designers visit with catalogs in hand. Designers would seldom go to a store—rather, they’d come to the clients.
“This is designer Charcoming. I’m truly honored to be invited. No—thank you, truly!”
Louisa, who wouldn’t be caught dead shopping in a store, naturally preferred the latter.
She had requested someone who could work quickly, and Browne didn’t take her lightly.
He had brought in one of the finest designers—famous for being exacting and selective.
Charcoming entered the room, eyes shining with adoration as he looked at Louisa.
His teal-green eyes complemented his red hair. His passion flared as soon as he saw her, and he blushed and shouted, “Bravo!”
He looked genuinely awed, leaving her speechless.
“Do you have any style preferences?”
“No—just do as you see fit.”
“Bra—vo!”
Charcoming rolled his tongue and exclaimed in excitement, grabbing Louisa’s hand.
“Trust me! I, Charcoming, was wrapped in silk from birth! I was born to create beauty!”
His energy bubbled over. It seemed nothing could stop him.
“If I could see the Goddess of Spring in person… that would be you, Your Grace. You hold such varied charms—I’ve finally found my muse, and I can’t calm down.”
Louisa stared in amusement at the overexcited designer.
“‘Muse’… what have you gotten into?”
“Regardless of how beautiful you already are, Your Grace, if you transform in any way, you’ll make it your own. Ah—I need to begin right away! I feel so inspired!”
It was a relief she found out now. Louisa watched the enthusiastic designer work with fascination.
“May I ask, who will be your partner? Your fiancé, the First Prince? Of course, it’s to match the outfit.”
“Yes. I’ll go with His Highness. Although I expect he’ll wear his paladin uniform.”
Heh. A man in uniform, of course! Then, I will design a concept that suits them both—simple, yet eye-catching. Not too extravagant, yet not plain!”
His enthusiasm screamed trouble. Louisa hoped it wouldn’t cause more headaches.
Sunlight filtered through half-drawn curtains. Louisa stirred, hand to her ear, hearing “Bravo” echoing.
It seemed like yesterday, though it felt fresh—Charcoming, in the sunset glow, pouring over ideas and almost keeping her at the duke’s mansion until dawn.
He was apparently so famous among nobles that scheduling him was difficult—but after yesterday’s passion, it made sense.
It would’ve been disastrous to say “Just do whatever”—he’d pour his heart into every minute moment.
Louisa could only hope he toned it down for her sake.
“…Did I have an appointment with the baron today?”
She murmured, feeling weary. Meeting Baron Albert should have been exciting, given her investment—but today, it felt like a chore.
Since the wine succeeded, Albert Rose became a minor celebrity; scandals were a concern.
He wanted to go public with the partnership—but Louisa, who had no desire for attention, found it a burden.
She firmly refused, promising to reveal it later once she was less pressured.
They set a private meeting for business updates—but it approached too quickly, and she felt uneasy.
Why did time speed by only when she didn’t want it to? And why was the weather suddenly perfect?
And most importantly…
“Why did they have to set it for today?”
She thudded her fist into the bed, lamenting.
Clad in a light mint dress with puff sleeves and wide-brimmed hat, she strolled through the streets. Fortunately, the duke and duchess were out, so her trip was easy.
If not for her health, she could wander freely. But she rarely did anyway.
Louisa walked with Merry toward their meeting place.
“Miss, this is your first summer festival, right?”
“Summer festival? When is that?”
“It usually happens around now, but it was postponed two weeks because it overlapped with the banquet.”
“Oh. Then I’ll take vacation time. You should go enjoy it.”
“Ah—no! I didn’t mean it like that.”
Merry jumped and waved her hands vigorously—Louisa stopped in surprise.
“I thought you might like to visit, even just once. I’ve been before—I don’t need to go again.”
“Hmmm, a festival is just people gathering, eating, and having fun, right?”
“Well, yes…but summer festivals are about nighttime! Nobles might not like street food, but fireworks are always popular! People will even fight for best seats!”
That’s… exactly what Louisa hated. Crowds, noise, hassle.
But Merry’s bright, eager expression left her unable to say no outright.
“…Maybe I’ll think about it.”
“Yes!” Merry beamed. “Even if you don’t enjoy outings, watching fireworks from somewhere quiet will be lovely! I’ll find a secret good spot!”
Yesterday, and now this—why were there so many enthusiastic people around her? She forced a hollow smile at Merry’s shining eyes.
Right—this is my life, isn’t it?
Continuing slowly, she internally groaned about all the obligations.
As she uneasily scanned her surroundings, she spotted a familiar silhouette.
Raphael?
In a daytime boutique district? It seemed out of place. He usually appeared for lunch appointments—but perhaps he wandered normally too?
Louisa peered at him curiously, then narrowed her eyes as she noticed someone by his side.
A petite woman with full sky-blue hair and green eyes clung to Raphael’s arm.
Isn’t she the novel’s heroine?
Her face, once hazy in memory like fog, flashed clearly now. Louisa watched the pair closely.
The heroine’s simple, temple-issued dress looked plain for a noble—but this was definitely the heroine.
She smiled innocently, looked up at the silent Raphael, and gently grabbed his arm—then he stopped in response, slowing his step.
He’s accompanying her in person—have they grown closer?
Louisa watched them with a strange expression. Fortunately, they continued left, away from her, and didn’t notice her.
“Mademoiselle? Are you okay?”
Merry spoke softly, noticing how still she’d been standing.
“…Nothing. Let’s go.”
“Yes. Oh—could that be the First Prince?”
“Maybe.”
“M-mademoiselle…”
“Yes.”
“I—I think he looked in your direction.”
“Probably just looking past me.”
“…Okay.”
Merry hesitated but followed without protest.
Louisa’s spine tingled, but she pressed forward, her pace quickening slightly—and Merry matched her stride.
