Chapter 19
“Wait a second, Count.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Actually, there are a lot of problems.”
Lucian Sissen’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. “Alright, keep it brief.”
“Are you serious about coming here? Don’t we have any other options?”
“Is it not to your liking?”
“No, it’s not that… You might not realize this because you’re so well-off, but how on earth am I supposed to afford a dress at Leblanc? This is definitely going to blow way past my budget.”
I was looking for something decent, not the absolute height of luxury. I’d been living as a Viscount’s daughter for two months now—long enough to ensure I wasn’t some fool who had lost all sense of financial reality.
Lucian stared at my dead-serious expression for a moment before a polite smile played on his lips.
“It doesn’t matter what your budget is. I’m the one paying.”
“You’re buying me a dress? There’s really no need—”
“There is,” Lucian interjected firmly. “This is an apology gift. I didn’t intend to just give you a recommendation and leave it at that.”
His tone left absolutely no room for further protest. I gave him a long, steady look.
“You realize what it means when a man buys a woman’s debutante dress, right?”
“You can simply take it as a gesture of goodwill.”
Easy for him to say. No one else was going to see it that way. Usually, a debutante dress is provided by someone close—parents, a guardian, or a fiancé. While one could argue he was doing it as a favor to Mrs. Mason, people don’t care about the fine print. They only care about what they see.
God, this is exhausting. Fine, have it your way.
I didn’t exactly want an expensive gift from Lucian Sissen, but since I couldn’t dodge it, I decided to frame it differently: this wasn’t a gift for me, but for Yunette Diaz.
“It’s almost time for our appointment.”
I couldn’t bring myself to block him again as he opened the carriage door. Lucian stepped out first and waited for me. Trying my best to look like I was actually accepting his escort, I stepped down from the carriage.
As we entered the boutique, the opulence of the interior immediately hit me. The soft lighting and chic furniture were captivating. Mirrors were placed strategically to make the space feel vast, and the dresses—the very ones that set the trends in the capital—were displayed with meticulous care.
“Oh, welcome, Count! It’s been quite a while.”
The staff lined up and bowed. They were incredibly polite, but perhaps because it had been a while, it felt a bit much. Madame Violet, the owner, hurried forward from the center of the room to greet Lucian warmly.
With her high-pitched voice, bold but sophisticated makeup, and perfectly styled hair, she hadn’t changed a bit. As the head of a top-tier boutique, every move she made radiated confidence and ease. Yet, even she showed a careful respect in front of Lucian Sissen.
“I hope you’ve been well. It’s such an honor to have you back.”
While offering Lucian a bright smile and pleasantries, her eyes drifted toward me. In a split second, she scanned me from head to toe. It was a very natural, subtle appraisal masked by a smile—the gaze of someone measuring my status and background based on my appearance. I’d expected as much, so I didn’t react.
I’m not sure if Lucian told her I’m a Viscount’s daughter or not.
But I could guess what she was thinking. The pale purple dress and accessories Daisy had picked out for me were neat, but they certainly didn’t scream “luxury.” I looked like a typical daughter of the lower nobility. I likely fell far short of the high-society clientele she usually dealt with.
She hesitated for a tiny fraction of a second before flashing another bright smile.
“Is this the young lady you mentioned?”
“Yes.”
Violet smoothed over the awkwardness with professional ease. Lucian gave a curt reply and turned to me.
“Pick out whatever you like.”
“…Alright.”
Lucian left me with the staff and headed toward the waiting area. It really seemed like he only came along to handle the reservation and the bill. The thought that I’d have to hand-pick a dress that suited Yunette myself was becoming a real chore. I had a brief flash of regret that I hadn’t brought Daisy along.
No, that wouldn’t have worked. I have another goal today.
Once I was done with Lucian, there was somewhere I had to go alone. It had to be alone.
Just then, Violet spoke to me.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Madame Violet of Leblanc. I was a bit slow with my greeting because I was so surprised—it’s the Count’s first time bringing a lady here. May I ask your name?”
“It’s Yunette Diaz.”
“I heard from the Count that you’re looking for a debutante dress. You must have come from quite a distance. With the ball less than three weeks away, you must have been very worried.”
It was a classic conversational tactic—pretending to empathize. Combined with her polite posture, it sounded sincere enough, but there was a subtle undercurrent of condescension. She didn’t know who the Diaz family was, and she didn’t bother to ask. She probably didn’t see the point. Who I was didn’t really matter to her; if she were the type to be picky, she would have declined Lucian’s reservation in the first place.
“Our schedule was fully booked, but of course, we must honor a request from Count Sissen.”
“Right. Thank you.”
If you translated what she was actually saying, it was: The only reason I’m making a dress for you is because of Lucian Sissen. She was implicitly pointing out that I didn’t belong here.
She’s not wrong.
That’s why I hadn’t even dreamed of coming to Leblanc. It was easier to just blame everything on Lucian.
“As the Count requested, we’ll prepare everything from the dress and shoes to the matching accessories. Let’s start with your measurements, so if you’ll just follow me.”
I followed her to the fitting room. Under the soft glow of the lights, I changed into a robe, and the staff moved quickly with their measuring tapes.
“You’re quite slender with no excess weight at all, so your lines are lovely. A design that emphasizes the waist would suit you. It might be even better to show off your shoulders a bit.”
Violet watched me from a short distance away, offering her unfiltered thoughts. Then, in a soft tone, she asked, “Do you have a specific design or fabric in mind?”
I paused for a moment as if contemplating, then replied, “I’ll trust your judgment, Madame Violet.”
“Oh, well in that case, I shall do my absolute best.”
Her smile deepened at my answer. Seeing that, I felt a bit flat—she was so predictable. She absolutely loathed people who interfered with her work using their own mediocre taste. Her professional pride was stronger than anyone’s. Since she’d never do a sloppy job even for a “lower-tier” client, it was better to just go with her opinion.
However, Violet also disliked people who were completely spineless. In the end, I’d still have to look at several drafts and make the final decisions and tweaks myself. That was exactly why she was so difficult to please.
“Since we don’t have much time before the banquet, it would be best to try on some dresses I’ve already designed and basted, then make adjustments from there. Does that sound alright?”
“Yes, of course.”
After that, a tedious cycle began. Putting on a dress, standing in front of the mirror, checking for improvements, and then switching to another one.
I am dying of boredom.
I muttered to myself as I pulled off the sixth dress. Enough time had passed that I wouldn’t have even been mad if Lucian had ditched me and gone home. I was reaching my limit.
I spoke up to Violet, who was busy discussing things with her assistant tailors.
“I think this is enough.”
I caught her eye and quickly laid out my thoughts.
“I like the third dress the best. The fit doesn’t need much work, and if we just adjust the lace on the sleeves so it doesn’t hang quite so low, like you mentioned, I think it’ll be perfect.”
“Oh, we’re of the same mind.”
She looked at me with a hint of surprise. But then she tilted her head slightly and followed up with a question.
“But don’t you think the third one is a bit plain for a social debut? Usually, guests prefer something more dazzling, like the fifth dress. What do you think?”
I thought she’d just agree and we could wrap this up, but I got an unexpected response. The fifth dress was clearly a masterpiece that had taken a lot of effort.
But it’s way too flashy for my taste.
I preferred something reasonably modest. That fifth dress practically screamed “Leblanc Boutique,” and anyone who knew their fashion would recognize it instantly. It was easier to avoid anything that would draw unnecessary attention.
Just as I was thinking about how to phrase my choice so she’d stick with the third one, Violet smiled brightly and clapped her hands.
“If you’re having trouble deciding, shall we ask the Count?”
