Chapter 15
In my previous life, I’d heard similar things abroad, but I’d never been told something so directly in this world.
Rix’s expression hardened openly. He looked clearly flustered.
When Len stared at him intently, Rix coughed awkwardly and looked away.
“Just… heard it somewhere.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Anyway—”
Rix furrowed his brows and immediately changed the subject.
“Don’t you want anything?”
“Wait a moment!”
“If not—”
Len hastily grabbed Rix.
As she clutched her head again, trying desperately to extract something from him, Rix finally relaxed a little and let out a quiet sigh, subtle enough to go unnoticed.
The moment she asked how he knew the phrase “I want to hide in a mouse hole,” his heart skipped a beat. Fortunately, he quickly diverted the conversation before she noticed, but hiding the speech patterns and habits ingrained in him completely was impossible.
After all, he was human.
Thinking he would need to be even more careful around Len from now on, she spoke as if making a wish.
“Can I tell you later? I really can’t think of anything right now.”
Her blue eyes sparkled brilliantly, even without a trace of moonlight.
No matter how hard she tried, nothing came to mind at that moment.
Rix had been debating whether to reveal his own hand first but decided against it for now and tucked it away in his chest. Then he nodded.
“Do as you wish.”
“Really?!”
“Really.”
“What a relief.”
Len let out a sigh of relief, as if she had narrowly escaped a monster.
Seeing Len’s unusually expressive face that day, Rix commented, somewhat amused.
“Think carefully. It doesn’t have to be a thing.”
“Just watch me.”
Len smirked at Rix’s words. What does he think I am? I’ll get everything one way or another.
Suppressing a laugh that threatened to escape at the sight of her thoughts being so transparent, Rix gave a small, amused smile.
“I’ve prepared the carriage outside. It’s late, so get in.”
“Thank you.”
As Rix stood first, Len followed suit. She clasped her hands over her chest and bowed politely.
It wasn’t pretension; the impractical dress she wore plunged deeply at the chest, making it dangerously revealing if not careful.
This is the kind of outfit celebrities wear on the red carpet. How can anyone wear this casually? Len muttered to herself.
As if reading her thoughts, Rix commented,
“You look uncomfortable.”
“Right? It’s ridiculously long and cumbersome. I can’t imagine how the previous saints wore this dress.”
Len swung the dress that dragged on the floor.
“Look at this. I could practically sweep the floor with it.”
Rix laughed, covering his mouth with a fist, while Len added,
“Still, it doesn’t get a speck of dust on it. The fabric must be really expensive. I’ve heard it costs a fortune.”
Sighing, Len stepped out from the sofa, and Rix passed her first to escort her to the door.
Seeing her from the front, her awkward stance looked even more comical. Since her etiquette lessons weren’t complete, the way her skirt caught on her legs made her look far from saintly. Standing on the podium like that…
The thought of Len climbing the stairs made Rix shiver.
Grabbing the door handle, he muttered to her,
“Then let’s change it.”
“Pardon?”
“That dress.”
Len looked down at herself. She knew she looked awkward, but he wanted her to change it? All the dresses seemed pretty much the same anyway.
“Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“I said I’d change your debutante outfit for you.”
Ah.
She had been so busy she’d completely forgotten.
Rix smiled without naming it.
“Perfect timing, I’ve finished designing it anyway.”
Rix walked quickly to the desk, found a blank notebook nearby, dipped a fine quill into ink, and in a flash, sketched something.
Len tilted her head, wondering what he was up to.
In under a minute, Rix tore the paper off and strode toward her, handing it over.
Len’s eyes widened as she took the paper without understanding why.
“Like this.”
Rix smiled proudly. Even he thought it was genius.
A carriage emblazoned with the Marpla Count’s symbol—a dove in the clouds—appeared. Its hooves made no sound as it stopped in front of the capital’s most famous clothing store.
People quickly recognized the emblem of the Marpla Count family and whispered among themselves.
Though their words layered over each other, the key point was clear:
“The Marpla Count has returned to the capital.”
This meant the otherwise dull social scene was about to be stirred once more.
As people quieted and the carriage door opened, the elegant Countess Marpla and her two daughters stepped out together.
As rumored, they were not dazzling like diamonds, but they shone with the gentle glow of pearls and the lingering sparkle of sapphires.
Yet even after the three descended, the coachman waited for someone else.
People slowed their pace.
Viola, the eldest, turned her head and smiled.
What kind of important figure will step out next?
Sofia felt the eyes of the crowd on her, brimming with curiosity. She played along, pretending not to notice, and cheerfully said,
“Hurry and come down!”
A white hand emerged from the carriage interior toward the coachman. A woman. The crowd’s eyes sparkled even more.
Who was this newcomer from the Marpla Count’s carriage?
Time seemed to slow under everyone’s curiosity. Even the horses moved cautiously.
Yet inside emerged a figure wearing a deep black hood, like a dark sorcerer, head to toe concealed. No face was visible.
Those who realized she was a woman alone were disappointed.
The four entered the store immediately.
No one noticed the silver dress sparkling under the black hood of the last woman to enter.
“Countess!”
Inside, someone called from afar. Their lively voice drew the four’s attention. The Countess’s eyes widened.
“Dahlia!”
“It’s been a long time! How long have you been away from the capital for your recuperation? I’ve been wanting to see you so badly.”
“I’ve missed your skill as well.”
Dahlia held her head high, adorned excessively with flowers. Her bright yellow dress outshone even the Countess.
Len stepped back, nearly tripping over the dress, but Viola supported her.
“Thank you.”
“Not at all.”
Watching Viola’s pure smile on her fair face, Len thought she’d fit perfectly as a heroine in a romance novel.
“But who is she?”
Len asked cautiously. Viola smiled shyly.
“She’s Madame Dahlia. The owner of this clothing store.”
“There are ten branches nationwide. Her clothes are the latest trends, almost impossible to get. And very expensive, too.”
“Sofia!”
Viola scolded Sofia for her rude comment. Sofia shut her mouth and glanced at Madame Dahlia. Then, secretly, she whispered to Len.
“Madame Dahlia is rumored to sell her soul to the devil to create innovative dresses.”
“The devil—ugh!”
Len almost shouted it out loud, but Sofia quickly stopped her.
Then the Countess gestured to the three. Len swallowed dryly.
Madame Dahlia held Viola’s hand and said warmly,
“You’ve become so beautiful. I wonder which gentleman will take you.”
“And me?”
“Sofia, you’re only just of debutante age. You’ll have to wait a little longer.”
At Dahlia’s honest words, Sofia pouted.
The Countess pulled Len’s arm, hidden between Viola and Sofia. Dahlia couldn’t see her face under the hood.
“I came to fit this person’s clothes. Three outfits should suffice.”
“Then I’ll guide you to my office separately.”
Dahlia, quick-witted, didn’t question Len’s suspicious identity. The Countess’s use of this person implied she was a very important guest.
Relieved, the Countess followed Dahlia’s summoned attendants, while Viola admired Sofia’s shiny pink dress as they entered.
Dahlia locked the door.
“This place is safe.”
Smiling widely to reassure the four women, Len, suffocating under the hood, asked,
“Can I take it off now?”
“Yes.”
Dahlia quickly thought about whom the Countess was speaking respectfully to but found no one obvious. She smiled professionally and waited.
Len pulled back her hood.
Her silvery hair flowed like waves. When Dahlia met her blue eyes, as if a lake was captured in them, she felt her breath catch. Such pure, noble blue.
Len removed the hood completely and set it on the sofa. The silver dress, glittering like her hair, was revealed. Dahlia immediately recognized it.
“Saint…?”
The Countess nodded with a smile.
“Oh my.”
Dahlia covered her mouth, placed her hand on her chest, and bowed in respect.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Saint.”
“No, please rise.”
Len flusteredly waved her hands. She wanted to help her stand, but the narrow-fitting dress made walking awkward, so her hands flailed awkwardly.
Quick-thinking Viola helped Dahlia stand instead.
Dahlia repeatedly covered her mouth, whispering oh my under her breath. Len smiled awkwardly.
Once her heart settled, Dahlia cautiously asked,
“Did you come to fit the Saint’s dress? I heard the temple makes them separately…”
“No. The dress needs one or two adjustments, but today I want to fit something else.”
Dahlia’s eyes sparkled. Excited by a new challenge, she quickly grabbed pencil and paper, ready for instructions.
“I have a rough plan, but…”
Not exactly my plan.
Len swallowed the rest silently and awkwardly extended her hand.
