Chapter 54
Since she had come for the ball and had no other plans, she shook her head.
Then, she worried that perhaps Lydia might want to hang out with her friends. Surely she wouldn’t…?
“Good. The tailor is coming this afternoon.”
Thankfully for Eleanor, Lydia’s purpose was simply to look at dresses with the tailor. Relieved, Eleanor smiled gracefully.
“Alright, let’s go together.”
“Okay! Leopold and I picked your dress—hope it’s alright?”
Oh… right. You and Leopold picked it…
Eleanor’s lips froze, her casual response halted.
“…?”
You and… who?
Seeing Eleanor wide-eyed, Lydia cheerfully explained again.
“Leopold and I picked a design that would suit you.”
From the moment she mentioned preparing the dress, Eleanor had half-thought that Lydia must have chosen it herself. After all, their parents didn’t pay much attention to her.
It was likely that her younger sister and contemporary, Lydia, had picked it. But Eleanor was taken aback to hear that Leopold had been involved.
No… why… how did this happen…
Noticing her older sister stunned, Lydia started explaining on her own.
“Leo specially lent us the royal tailor.”
The words sounded almost destructive to Eleanor.
The royal tailor who made clothes only for the royals—for a mere countess’s daughter…
He truly was a prominent male lead.
Considering the Empress and the princess were also there, it surely wasn’t an easy task—but still, he did it.
“So Leo helped me choose while entrusting your dress to the royal tailor.”
“…Really?”
Eleanor suddenly felt uneasy. The Empress and the princess would also wear dresses made by the royal tailor.
Was it acceptable for the sisters, daughters of a non-prominent family, to wear dresses made by the same tailor?
The styles wouldn’t overlap, but Eleanor worried about the prideful two women in attendance.
Whether Lydia had considered that or not, she smiled innocently, giving nothing away.
Eleanor forced a polite smile, her thoughts conflicted.
Vanessa glanced at Eleanor from the side.
“Since he’s coming later, let’s check the dresses and start the fittings.”
“Alright.”
“Your dress will suit you perfectly,” Lydia said confidently. Being the female lead, she had an eye for these things, so Eleanor was unconcerned.
Still, the fact that they, mere sisters, were wearing dresses made by the royal tailor—and that Leopold had given his input on Eleanor’s dress—bothered her greatly.
Seeing her older sister again after so long, Lydia was her usual lively self.
“I’m so glad to see you, sister!”
Hearing her younger sister’s heartfelt cry, Eleanor smiled warmly and benevolently.
I’m glad to see her too… but…
‘Am I really supposed to wear a royal tailor’s dress?’
The thought of the dress gave her a headache.
Royal tailor Miguelon arrived at the Stikov Count’s estate at the hottest time of the day.
Behind him came nearly ten assistants, setting up a circular platform and arranging mannequins for the dresses.
Eleanor was impressed by the efficiency. Seeing the dress set before her, she was even more astonished.
The off-shoulder gown was shaded in blue at the top and bottom, with the middle section adorned in white lace—resembling a clear summer sky dotted with clouds.
The neckline was studded with tiny diamonds, converging at the center of the chest into a single teardrop-sized diamond.
Delicately finished sleeves had long, translucent fabric covering the hands, and the layered hem was voluminous.
Lydia stood beside Eleanor, who was genuinely admiring the dress.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
“…Yes,” Eleanor admitted honestly. Even the Empress and the princess would have to acknowledge its beauty.
It used luxurious fabric and jewels generously without going overboard, achieving restrained elegance.
The problem was… could she, an extra, really wear such a dress?
It was far too beautiful for someone in her position…
“This was carefully chosen by Leo himself,” Lydia said, mentioning the Crown Prince. Eleanor’s shoulders tensed instinctively.
She suddenly recalled the time she was injured during a mountain incident and he had sent her blue roses and ruby shoes.
Coming up to Bairn, he had meticulously brought them along to store at his home.
Seeing this dress revived the same question she had back then:
‘Why is the Crown Prince sending this to me?’
“…Why did His Highness give this to me… Lydia, did you ask him?”
There was only one reason a male lead would care about an extra’s older sister: the female lead.
Maintaining her composure with her mischievous sister, Eleanor asked, and Lydia tilted her head, shrugging.
“No, I didn’t ask him.”
“…Then?”
“Leo offered it first! To both you and me.”
Eleanor thought it over. If that was the case, perhaps he wanted to gift Lydia a dress and included Eleanor to give a valid excuse. Giving it to both at once avoided any complaints.
“Did the Empress and the princess agree?”
Even though she doubted it, Eleanor asked just in case.
“I’m not sure. He probably handled everything since it’s the royal tailor,” Lydia replied with a smile.
Seeing her clear, innocent eyes, Eleanor forced a smile.
Yes, I thought she wouldn’t know…
She turned to check Lydia’s dress as well. If her own dress for an extra was this exquisite, how magnificent would Lydia’s be?
“Want to see my dress too?”
Seeing Eleanor glance at her dress, Lydia eagerly linked her arm and led her over.
Eleanor admired Lydia’s dress as well. It was different in style from her own.
The pink gown had puff sleeves and lavish ruffles, giving a playful, lively impression. A wide neckline with white frills featured a large, slightly darker pink ribbon.
The flared hem had interspersed ruffles, giving it a classic yet cute appeal.
It highlighted Lydia’s soft, girlish charm perfectly.
“Did His Highness pick this too?”
Eleanor inwardly applauded, thinking it fit her perfectly—like pink cotton candy.
“I chose this one myself.”
“Huh?”
“Unlike you, I was there when choosing the dress.”
Lydia leaned close, grinning. Eleanor felt slightly uneasy thinking that Leopold had chosen her dress instead.
He wouldn’t be upset with me…
There was no way to prove it wasn’t intentional. Eleanor gazed at the dress with a strange sense, as if she had returned from an outing after stoking the fireplace.
“Shall we start the fittings now?”
Seeing a gap while the sisters laughed over their dresses, Miguelon stepped in promptly.
“Miss Eleanor Stikov, nice to meet you. I am Miguelon, the royal tailor.”
“Oh, pleasure to meet you. You’ve worked hard making my dress without me,” Eleanor said politely, smiling warmly.
He shook his head, his long curly hair tied in a single bundle.
“His Highness explained everything so well that it was easier than expected.”
“…?”
“Shall we start the fitting? Any adjustments need to be completed before the ball.”
Though slightly bristling, Eleanor understood his busy schedule with royal wardrobes and decided to cooperate promptly.
Eleanor tried on her dress first.
Although Lydia had taken her measurements herself, Eleanor’s dress was likely based on her previous clothes, so adjustments were expected.
She worried if her pre-Oclama measurements still fit—but the dress slipped on comfortably.
Perhaps her efforts at Oclama paid off.
Lisa helped with dressing and naturally let Eleanor’s hair down.
When Eleanor appeared, Lydia gasped.
“Sister! It suits you perfectly! You look so beautiful!”
Seeing her younger sister’s sparkling eyes and praise, Eleanor felt a little embarrassed.
She wasn’t unattractive, but compared to the heroine, she naturally felt lacking.
Thus, she couldn’t help but feel bashful at the heroine’s excessive compliment.
“Made with measurements from a few months ago, so it’s a bit roomy,” Miguelon noted, stroking his chin as he examined Eleanor.
A dress should be slightly snug to maintain posture and a clean line, but Eleanor’s dress was already snug, making further adjustments tricky.
Only the waist needed minor adjustments to prevent the layered hem from overwhelming the upper body.
“On the day of the ball, adorn the waist with fresh flowers. Are there any parts you’re dissatisfied with?”
The dress was already perfect; Eleanor had no complaints. Any more modifications could be excessive. She planned to choose subtle-colored flowers for the waist.
“Next, let’s fit Miss Lydia.”
Lydia looked radiant in her dress, smiling as if a halo shone around her.
Eleanor’s genuine praise made Lydia blush, smiling shyly in return.
Since the size fit perfectly, they proceeded as-is. Miguelon promised to pick the flowers himself before leaving.
“Leo says Miguelon is a perfectionist, serious about decorations,” Lydia whispered. Eleanor understood, imagining Miguelon’s attention to detail given the Crown Prince’s face.
No need to worry about the flowers—Eleanor didn’t mind.
After the fittings, Eleanor parted with Lydia and returned to her room.
Oclama’s room was now familiar, but Bairn’s room no longer felt strange either. She had spent 11 years as the heroine’s sister there.
Eleanor settled into the red velvet sofa, beautiful in winter but heavy in summer.
“Getting a little tired after fitting,” she murmured.
“Perhaps because you usually wear comfortable clothes at Oclama,” Lisa said, massaging Eleanor’s shoulders. They hadn’t needed to dress up in Bairn much either, and the long monsoon had left no chance to dress up.
“Miss, while meeting the tailor, a letter arrived from the Marquis of Maxil,” Vanessa said, handing it to Eleanor. Eleanor brightened at the name Maxil.
“He wants to go to the Etuar Dessert House tomorrow together.”
“I’ll need to prepare,” Eleanor replied, folding the letter.
Lisa clenched her fists, “Don’t overdo it.”
“I’ll try,” Eleanor said, though unsure. Back in Bairn, Lisa eagerly resumed dressing Eleanor.
Her long-suppressed desire to dress up in Oclama reignited in the imperial capital.
Seeing the maid pondering tomorrow’s outfit, Eleanor smiled. Vanessa’s lips twitched, about to speak, then swallowed her words when Eleanor looked at her.
“Why?”
“Nothing.”
“So bland.”
Leaning against the sofa, Eleanor prompted Lisa to maintain dignity, scolding her. Vanessa thought:
‘Why are you always so pretentious in front of family?’
Forced smiles and hollow conversations—it felt strange, but she lacked the courage to comment.
Especially with Eleanor, the word “pretentious” was almost traumatic.
Still, she seemed like an actress putting on airs…
Reflecting, Vanessa shook her head. The thought of pretension made her chest tighten and guilt rise.
‘I’m the lady’s aide now.’
Reaffirming her role, she decided not to meddle in unnecessary matters, including things Eleanor wouldn’t like.
