Chapter 24
“W-wait, isn’t that wording a little weird?!”
Liriope shouted, covering her burning face with both hands so that Theo wouldn’t see it.
From Theo’s perspective, the phrase “to hold” would naturally mean simply embracing someone. After all, he had once said out loud that he wanted to embrace her. So of course, it was strange that she had imagined anything else.
But really—how many people in the world could hear that face, that voice saying “to hold,” and still think it was nothing more than a hug?
[What on earth are you imagining, Lipe?]
Theo’s voice, tinged with laughter, cut into her flustered thoughts.
Liriope quickly dropped her hands from her face and shouted at him.
“I-I wasn’t thinking anything at all, okay?!”
She’d yelled like that out of guilty panic, and once again, Theo let out a small chuckle.
That languid, quiet laugh—low and yet somehow pressing down on her chest—was infuriatingly pleasant to hear. Without realizing it, Liriope bit down on her lower lip.
[Anyway, if you haven’t thought about it yet, then start thinking now. About the reward you want… and what I want as well.]
Having said what he wanted, Theo moved to cut off their telepathic link as was his habit—but paused.
He hesitated, looking momentarily unsure of what to say, and then let his warm baritone flow toward her.
[I’ll end it here, Lipe.]
The instant the connection cut off, Liriope grabbed her face in both hands, still blazing hot, and let out a strangled, ridiculous scream.
But laughter was mixed in with that scream.
Her lips twitched and quirked out of control, refusing to stay still.
The fact that Theo had remembered her request not to hang up so abruptly—and had actually tried—made her heart itch so badly she almost wanted to scratch at her chest.
How could one person toy so much with another’s feelings?
It hadn’t even been a full day since she resolved to suppress her ballooning affection for him, and yet her heart for Theo was already spilling over.
As she replayed in her mind the little troubled expression he’d worn in that brief pause before saying goodbye, Liriope began to laugh strangely.
“Pffthhhahahaha…”
“Of course, of course! This Ferroche will select the most perfect dresses for the two of you—it’ll be simply marvelous.”
At Liriope’s request for “friendship dresses,” Ferroche’s face lit up with excitement.
For a designer who constantly thirsted for something new, Liriope’s proposal must have been both intriguing and delightful.
After all, as someone who only tailored dresses for marquesses or higher-ranking ladies, the designs she was asked for by high nobles or royals were always more or less the same.
And when it came to ready-made dresses, lower nobles balked at unique designs, leaving Ferroche with no choice but to churn out similar creations over and over.
So when Liriope told her that any design was fine as long as it suited both herself and Rosearine, Ferroche couldn’t help but get excited.
Especially since Liriope and Rosearine were opposites in appearance—hair color, eye color, features—thinking up a design that harmonized them would set the heart of a top-class designer racing.
Ferroche declared she would go search for fabrics that would complement Liriope’s golden-blonde hair and Rosearine’s platinum-blonde hair, and she disappeared into her workshop.
Meanwhile, Liriope and Rosearine sat together on the sofa, sipping tea provided by the atelier.
Well—Liriope sat in ease.
From the moment they entered the atelier, Rosearine’s cheeks had been flushed pink, and as they sipped tea she kept stealing glances at the workshop door, fidgeting restlessly.
Anyone could see she was flustered with excitement.
Liriope found her rather cute like that, and smiled as she reassured her.
“Madame Ferroche’s designs are nothing to worry about.”
Rosearine, who would never dream of disliking one of Ferroche’s designs, nodded fervently at her words, her eyes sparkling.
“There’s no reason to doubt Madame Ferroche’s work.”
“Exactly, exactly.”
“Thanks to you, Lady Liri, I’ll actually get to wear a custom Ferroche dress. It’s like a dream come true.”
Rosearine covered her mouth with both hands, overcome with emotion.
Liriope chuckled lightly as she set down her teacup.
There were parts of this world’s setting that she couldn’t quite agree with.
Of course, she knew the author had added the detail that Ferroche’s custom designs were reserved for only the highest-ranking nobles, because later in the original story, Carden would give Rosearine such a dress as a way to win her favor.
But still—the idea that counts or below weren’t even allowed to commission a famous designer was rather absurd. A viscount or baron, maybe, but a countess wasn’t exactly low-ranking.
In any case, even if she was accidentally stealing a moment originally meant for the heroine and crown prince, Liriope didn’t mind.
If anything, since it was better for side characters to stir things up, she figured this might even help prevent Rosearine’s heart from being swayed.
“If you ever want a Ferroche dress, Rose, just tell me.”
Liriope smiled at her.
“Of course, since Madame Ferroche has her standards, it’d have to be on the condition of making it a ‘friendship dress’ with me. But that way, you could wear her designs whenever you like.”
She tossed the bait generously, knowing how much Rosearine longed for a custom dress.
Rosearine’s expression shifted at that.
Though she had denied it before, the thought of wearing a dress that matched Liriope’s still seemed a little uncomfortable for her.
Liriope quickly added,
“Oh, of course, I won’t actually wear it. We’d just commission something with a similar design, and then only you would wear it. Because, you see, Madame Ferroche’s—”
“I—I’d love to wear a friendship dress with you, Lady Liri!”
Rosearine suddenly cut her off, blurting out the words.
Fidgeting with her skirt hem, she added shyly,
“As long as you don’t dislike the idea, I’d like to match with you. Even our day dresses.”
Liriope forced a smile, trying not to look too awkward, and nodded.
Apparently, her desire to wear Ferroche’s creations outweighed her discomfort at matching outfits.
So she really does love Ferroche’s designs that much.
Among the fabrics Ferroche presented, the one both Liriope and Rosearine chose was a red cloth.
Liriope had picked it because she thought it would suit Rosearine perfectly, while Rosearine had chosen it because she thought it would suit Liriope.
When they realized that, they burst into laughter together.
The red fabric shimmered with golden hues whenever it caught the light, giving it a mystical quality.
For the grand imperial ball on the eve of the Hunting Festival, dresses made from that cloth would surely capture everyone’s attention at once.
And since they would be worn by the world’s most beautiful heroine, Rosearine, and by Liriope—who, though cast as the “villainess,” was every bit as beautiful—together they were certain to cause a stir.
“Then I’ll sketch each design to suit you both and send them to the ducal residence,” Ferroche said.
Liriope nodded.
“In that case, Rose, why don’t you come by the ducal house that day? We can check for any changes together then.”
“Yes, Lady Liri,” Rosearine answered brightly.
After leaving the atelier, the two of them felt it would be a shame to part ways immediately, so they strolled to a nearby tea shop.
As soon as they sat down and ordered tea, they began chatting about Ferroche’s upcoming designs, and before long their tea and desserts were served.
Liriope reached for one of the cookies and bit into it first.
“Actually, I thought you were trying to put me in difficult situations,” Rosearine suddenly said, catching Liriope completely off guard.
Cookie still in her mouth, she looked at Rosearine in surprise.
“When you told me you wanted to show me the imported tea… and the day both His Grace the Archduke and His Highness the Crown Prince showed up during our teatime…”
“Oh, well—that was…”
Even Liriope hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to appear that day, so she had been just as flustered.
“And then, when you suggested we wear matching dresses at the ball. I wondered if maybe all of it was just to trouble me somehow.”
“Ah… I see.”
At Liriope’s quiet murmur, Rosearine gave an awkward smile and wrapped her hands around her teacup.
Liriope stayed silent, watching her hands, waiting for her to continue.
“I think I’ve been misunderstanding you, Lady Liri.”
Rosearine’s eyes, now glistening with moisture, met hers.
“Mm…”
Unsure how to respond, Liriope scratched her cheek with one finger. Rosearine, looking guilty, bowed her head.
“I must have offended you. I’m truly sorry.”
“No, no. I’m not offended at all. Honestly, it makes sense you’d think that way.”
After all, it had only taken three short lines in the novel to describe just how mercilessly “Liriope” had bullied Rosearine back in their academy days.
So of course Rosearine would be suspicious now.
When someone who had been the ringleader of her tormentors suddenly started acting friendly, how could she not be wary?
Letting out a small sigh, Liriope said,
“To be honest, I know the way I treated you until now was wrong.”
Rosearine’s eyes flew wide open, as though they might pop out of her head.
Liriope gave a sheepish smile and added,
“I’m sorry. You must have suffered a lot because of my petty jealousy.”
For Rosearine, hearing the words “I’m sorry” from the very person she thought would never admit her wrongs—let alone apologize—was nothing short of shocking.
