Episode 59):
As soon as Pamela was brought up, Frederick’s gaze twisted, just as expected.
“Live together long enough, and feelings are bound to grow.”
“Even so, I don’t like it.”
“So you want to enjoy the rights but not bear the responsibilities?”
“I just want to choose my own life. And besides, as a member of the family, I don’t think I’ve been that unfit for my role.”
It wasn’t as if this was the first time she had been dragged into such things. She’d done her part networking, cultivating connections, shaping the flow of rumors, or even covering up problems.
Frederick admitted it without protest.
“True, I won’t say you’ve done nothing. But perhaps it’s about time you ended that sort of life.”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t push it too far. A person can’t live getting only what they want.”
For once, Cordelia’s lips curved into a rare sneer.
“And you? Haven’t you gotten everything?”
Her mocking tone beat against Frederick like an accusation, but he didn’t flinch.
“And I carry that much more.”
While you try to carry nothing at all.
Even catching the unspoken rebuke, Cordelia didn’t mind. She was used to it. She was always treated as a woman who chased ideals without thinking, someone who lived thoughtlessly.
Her worries would always seem trivial to this man. After all, as he himself said, he was in the position of making greater, grander, more difficult decisions.
Which was exactly why she would never say it aloud. Not now, not ever.
“This just came to mind, but I want to ask you something.”
Of course, Cordelia had never been the type to sit back and take things quietly.
“Then why don’t you keep a mistress?”
“Because there’s no need.”
“Oh, really? Then if Pamela said she wanted to take a lover, would you just accept it? Because that would be the natural thing to do, right?”
Cracks appeared in his calm mask. While Frederick’s face froze frighteningly stiff, Cordelia leaned closer with a gentle smile and drove the wedge in.
“Why not? Yours was a political marriage too, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t reply, but his narrowing eyes betrayed his discomfort. Cordelia rose, leaned toward him, met his gaze, and whispered kindly.
“You couldn’t, could you? Don’t drag me into something you wouldn’t do yourself.”
Having finally cast off the unease that had been nagging her, she felt lighter. It would have been better if she’d said it back when it was first thrown at her, but when she got too angry, her mind always went blank—what could she do?
“I’m leaving. Keep your promise.”
Cordelia gathered her things and turned away, her footsteps deliberately more graceful than usual, as if to show him. Frederick’s eyebrow twitched at the sight, but nothing more.
“Um, Lady Cordelia. May I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“Uh… what exactly is happening right now…?”
Noah quietly lifted his arm. The tailor, who had been fastening a button on his sleeve, cried out in alarm.
“Please stay still!”
Startled by the booming voice, Noah froze like a statue. His gaze flicked to Cordelia, who sat across the room in a chair, watching the scene with great amusement.
“All done! What do you think?”
The tailor lifted his head proudly.
On Noah’s head rested a violet hat that bared his broad forehead, softening his awkward expression. He wore a white shirt lined with gold embroidery and buttons, paired with tan trousers, his broad shoulders cloaked in violet velvet that added an air of elegance.
Cordelia gave a light thumbs-up.
“Perfect.”
“You truly have an eye for these things.”
“Of course. You know my taste well, don’t you?”
“Indeed, milady has always been our finest patron.”
Only Noah seemed out of place in the cheerful mood. Still, he didn’t spoil it—after all, she hadn’t seemed in good spirits earlier, but now she looked pleased. That was enough.
Even so, these clothes… they clearly cost a fortune.
“By the way, how much do these…?”
The fabric clung softly to his body, smooth to the touch—it had to be top quality. Ever since becoming a painter, he’d been used to dressing simply; this sort of luxury felt alien.
Cordelia’s voice was gentle as she answered his careful question.
“Don’t worry about the price. I’ve already paid.”
“I can’t just accept something like this. Since I’m the one wearing them, I should—”
“Ah-ah. You have to accept whatever I give in return, don’t you? That’s fair, isn’t it?”
Thinking of the painting he’d given her, Noah groaned quietly. Still…
“But this isn’t just one or two outfits!”
This was already the third outfit he’d tried on today. Cordelia’s eyes narrowed at his protest.
“Was five sets too few after all?”
“Of course. These days, if you’re attending banquets and such, you need at least ten. Doesn’t milady herself order that many each year?”
“See, I thought so too.”
“I was wrong. Please have mercy.”
With a stiff smile, Noah begged, and Cordelia tilted her head as if granting pardon. As he peeled off the outfit, the sight of his well-toned chest and thick arms caught her eye.
How were his shoulders that broad? They made you want to just throw yourself into them.
Even more defined than when she had last felt his body against hers, his chest looked sturdy, his waist narrow in comparison.
It was a shame he only showed her his front—she wanted to see his back too. But before she could maneuver, Noah was already slipping into the next shirt.
The rustle of fabric against skin, the way his long lashes shadowed his eyes, the way the folds of cloth shifted as his body moved—it all drew her gaze.
Perhaps thanks to his life as a prince, Noah seemed to have no qualms about undressing before others. That composure irritated Cordelia a little.
Wasn’t he being too defenseless? Surely he hadn’t just swallowed all the warnings she’d given him whole?
“Lady Cordelia?”
“Huh?”
“I’m dressed now.”
Cordelia, lost in wandering thoughts, blinked and quickly refocused on him.
The green silk tunic hugged his torso closely, paired with wide trousers that tapered at the ankles. Brown boots and a feathered green hat completed the look, giving him a fresh, spring-like impression—though winter was nearly here.
“Oh, that suits you well. When I first heard the idea, I thought it’d be too hard to pull off.”
“Indeed, it suits you splendidly!”
The tailor nodded earnestly. Quite a change from when Cordelia had first summoned him to dress Noah—back then, he had been doubtful.
‘I never show my designs to anyone, but I want to dress him so well I’ll make an exception. Excited?’
‘If he’s someone who’s captured milady’s heart, then I’m eager indeed.’
Even as he flattered her automatically, the tailor’s eyes had been uncertain—until the moment Noah walked in, wearing the fluttering white lace bishop-sleeved shirt and black trousers Cordelia had chosen.
The tailor had cried out like a man possessed:
‘Good heavens, it’s been ages since I’ve seen muscles so perfectly shaped!’
Overcome with excitement at such a subject, he had taken Noah’s measurements in a frenzy, questioned him briskly, and then vanished like the wind.
Three days later, he’d returned brimming with enthusiasm, armed with fabrics and sketches. Cordelia had handed over the money and materials, and as soon as word came the clothes were finished, she arranged Noah’s visit.
Now, at her cue, Noah removed the hat. His bangs fell messily over his eyes, drawing a look of irritation from the tailor, who asked carefully:
“By the way, your hair seems a bit long. Would you consider cutting—”
“No.”
Noah cut him off firmly. Cordelia, who had already failed once to persuade him, only shook her head. The tailor read the signal quickly and closed his mouth with regret.
So that’s why she insisted on making matching hats.
Once Noah had tried on the last outfit, he stood quietly at Cordelia’s gesture. Without so much as a heavy breath, he stood there like a statue from a temple or palace.
“Is something not to your liking, milady?”
“No, I like them all. But…”
Cordelia pointed at the green outfit he’d worn fourth.
“The silk, that shade of green. Is there a darker tone, but in a lighter fabric?”
“That one was already made for spring, so it’s quite light, but…”
“So there isn’t?”
“Nothing comes to mind immediately, but I’ll check with the workshops and shops we frequent. There may be imports from across the sea or from the Empire.”
“Then look into it and let me know.”
After dismissing the tailor and sending the servants to tidy up the clothes, only the two of them remained in the room. Clad in all white, Noah toyed with the red cloak draped over his shoulders with a gloved hand.
“Um… may I take this off now?”
“They won’t confiscate these if you take them home, will they?”
“No, though they might inspect them a little.”
“Good.”
Noah looked as though he hoped she’d end things here. But Cordelia wasn’t foolish enough to give up such eye candy so easily.
Settling into her chair, she fixed her gaze on him and murmured:
